This last week, a good friend came to visit me at the Choza. We had a lovely few days together in Concepcion, but naturally, we headed to the beach for the last little bit of her trip. We didn’t make much of a plan, and we didn’t need one! We took the bus to Manuel Antonio and had a wonderful time.

It was good for me, to be a tourist, to see a different place, to experience another part of Costa Rica. As we walked around I marveled at the fact that yes, I live in this country, this country with rolling mountains, glorious beaches, and kind people.

One evening we walked the length of the beach, past all the crowds of people and umbrellas and chairs to the other side, a rockier side. When I’m not distracted by people, my eyes are drawn to my natural surroundings. The trees that line the beach grow a little crooked, stretching their necks towards the ocean. The white sand is interrupted by weather beaten black rock, and the sun dips below the sea in the distance. I started to notice the layers of forest here, recognizing trees and plants I’m familiar with from the landscape around the Choza. As we turned around and headed home, I suddenly, faintly heard a familiar sound.

It was the cicadas. And I smiled.

A month or so ago, if you took a walk down the road from the Choza, or if you hiked through the forest around there, the only thing you could hear was the cicadas. With a loud, piercing buzz, at times they were deafening—really it was something amazing. It wasn’t hard to get used to the noise, but sometimes it would really drive me crazy! The forest is not a quiet place! It is FULL of life. In the last few weeks, the noise has really died out, and I don’t hear them nearly as much as I used to. So it was funny for me, to hear the cicadas at the beach, and remember my inner conversations with them a few months ago, “You guys are so loud!!”

It reminded me of a lesson I’ve been learning—life is life, no matter where you go. Even at the beach, the cicadas are still there. So often I think we try to escape where we’re at—we dream of blue skies and vacations at the beach when we’re stuck in the city in the day to day. Maybe we even go on those vacations and experience a taste of something new and different. But in every culture I’ve ever had the pleasure of visiting, something I always find is that the people there are just doing life, just like I am back at home. They experience struggles and frustrations, just like we do. They still have to cook dinner, and there are still those darn cicadas in the backyard.

While vacations are good, and it is good to get away, it’s good for me to remember that life is life, no matter where I go. This is especially pertinent to me, as I’ve been here for four months now, and am beginning to consider what life will look like once I get back to the States. “The grass is greener” mindset is something I’ve had to fight on both sides of this experience—first in coming here, and now, soon, as I go back home. This has been an amazing experience—I have grown in changed in ways I couldn’t have foreseen. But it has not been without its struggles. In the same way, I know that adjusting to living in the States again will come with its own set of struggles. But it is in these hard things that we learn and grow and are changed for the better and when it is all said and done, I wouldn’t change a single thing.

Thinking about this idea is helping me focus in these last few months here. I want to squeeze every last drop out of my Costa Rica life, I want to keep learning how to be settled where I’m at, even as I’m looking toward the next step.

Until next time!

-Mariah

The last two weeks we’ve had a building project going on here at the Choza—maybe you’ve seen the progress on Facebook? We’re building Solin a new work shed, called a “bodega” in Spanish. Solin is super excited about it (as are we, of course). So I thought, this week, in honor of Solin’s new bodega, it would be fun to have a blog post on Solin! I asked him about it, and he said he thought it was a good idea.

Solin has become a great friend over the past few months. Without the kindness he and his family have shown me, I don’t know where I’d be! We have crazy conversations about all sorts of things, from religion to science to culture to education. He is incredibly bright, does amazing things with a machete, is kind, patriotic, extremely hardworking, and has a contagious sense of humor. We sat down to chat yesterday mid morning. He answered my questions in Spanish, but I’ve translated it here to English. If you’d like to see the Spanish version, just ask!

Without further ado, The Interview:

M: Solin, what’s your name?

S:  Solin Garcia Sanchez.

 

M: Where were you born?

S: In a hospital in San Jose.

 

M: How many siblings do you have?

S: “Three that I know of,” he said with a wink and a smile.

M: What did you think of school?

S: It’s a necessary evil (again with the winking and the sarcasm).

 

M: What do you like the most about Costa Rica?

S: Pura Vida.

 

M: Anything else?

S: The women.

 

M: What is your favorite place in Costa Rica?

S: Here in this region. It’s the place I grew up.

 

M: Tell me about your family.

S: My family is very big. My dad’s parents had 14 kids, my mom’s parents had 12 kids, and I only have 3 aunts. My grandfather was one of the visionaries of Concepcion. My dad and my mom were born in this place.

 

M: What do you think about life in general?

S: You have to respect it. It’s something sacred. It’s something made by God.

 

M: Is there something interesting about to happen in your life? (I was hinting at something…)

S: No day is more important than another. Every day is interesting.

 

M: Okay, but…your wedding?

S: My wedding is important, yes of course. But it’s also important to close your eyes, to breathe. Yes, it will be a beautiful moment…I am going to give my life to a person I care for very much. She is going to give me her life, and I will care for her so much.

 

M: How do you know Carolina (his fiancé)?

S: From my grandparents house.

 

M: Your dad’s parents or your mom’s parents?

S: Well, they’re not my grandparents. They’re neighbors, but they’re like grandparents.

 

M: What do you think about your job?

S: It’s nice. I like it. The earth is sacred, and I work planting the earth. It’s really good to know where things come from. You plant because you need to eat. It’s like having kids…not exactly, of course, but it’s similar.

 

M: What is your favorite color?

S: I like dark colors- green, blue, brown. I don’t like bright colors, like yellow.

 

M: If you could have anything you wanted for lunch today, what would it be?

S: Picadillo de chiscaskill con piel de chancho, tortillas, arroz y frijoles, vaso de leche agria (sautéed greens with pig skin, tortillas, rice and beans, and a glass of warm milk).

 

M: Mountains or the beach?

S: Mountains.

 

M: What is the biggest problem in the world today?

S: Hunger.

 

M: What are you going to do today?

S: I will work until 1pm, then I will go to Santa Rosa and catch the bus to San Jose. In San Jose I’ll catch the bus to Alajuela. In Alajuela I’ll catch the bus to Poas. In Poas I will see Carolina. At her house we will eat and sleep, and then tomorrow is another day.

 

M: What is your favorite thing to do:

S: A lot of things, Mariah. There’s not just one…I like to be with Carolina, to plant, to watch TV, to watch the sunset, to talk with friends, to eat, to ride horses. Lots of things.

 

M:Who taught you to plant?

S: Life.

 

Well, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

Until next week friends,

Mariah

 

Hi there! It’s been a while. The last two weeks have seen a lot of traveling for me, but I’m back this week and getting into the swing of things. Our big project right now is the building of the new bodega—check out the facebook page for our picture updates!

Over my travels the last few weeks, I took two trips. One was to Granada, Nicaragua. My 90-day tourist visa expired, so I needed to hang out in another country for a while. I chose Granada because I knew I would enjoy the Spanish feel of the city and I was right! It was really lovely. I spent lots of time reading, eating at restaurants, and wandering around the oldest city in the Americas.

My second trip was to CATIE, a research university in Turrialba, Costa Rica. There was a possibility that we might be able to do something together, so I went to check it out. I was excited to see the differences and similarities between Turrialba and Concepcion, as Turrialba is an agricultural center for Costa Rica and agriculture is a big part of life here. They’re farming on hillsides too! The area was really beautiful, and CATIE’s property is equally outstanding.

There’s been a theme that’s been following me these last months, and it’s this: the unknown. And ever since I read that Wendel Berry quote I mentioned a while ago, “We destroy that which we do not understand,” I’ve been seeing connections between the two ideas everywhere.

On my trip to Nicaragua, I had no idea what was going to happen. I had definitely never done anything like that before—everything was unknown. I wondered what the border would look like, if I would end up floundering in my mediocre Spanish abilities. I wondered if I would even enjoy the city, as I was exploring on my own. As I waited for the bus early in the morning outside the house, I marveled at the fact that I was just going to step up onto this bus and get to Puriscal, to San Jose, and to Nicaragua, without questioning what I was doing at all. It needed to happen, those steps needed to be taken. It was like something in the back of my mind was leading me, and I was just blindly following. I couldn’t let fear of the unknown get in the way, so I didn’t.

When something is unknown, I generally try to find a way to understand it, but I am realizing that more often than not, that instinct is to find a way to control it. Things we don’t understand are (or can be) initially frightening so we often look for ways to fit them inside our existing boxes so everything will still makes sense. I started thinking about this more in Granada, as I considered the Spanish conquest of the area, and the way they went about things. It makes sense to me that they would encounter something foreign (and frightening), not understand it, and seek to wipe it out. They wanted to make the area their own, and in order to do that, they had to reinvent home in this new place so that all their categories still had a place.

I kept thinking about that “We destroy that which we do not understand”, and realized that it’s often the unknown that we don’t understand. It’s dark and new places we have to step in to in life. Unless we decisively choose to embrace the unknown, things we don’t understand don’t fit in the frameworks we construct for our world, and we kind of spaz out and try to get rid of them or put them in this other category that we don’t have to deal with. This applies to how we interact with other people, other cultures, and even nature.

To the Spanish, the indigenous culture didn’t fit their framework for society, so they got rid of it. We did the same thing in the States with the Native Americans. We did not understand their cultures, we wanted the land for ourselves, so we pushed them out. I wonder how I do this today when I interact with new people and new cultures?  When I observe something I don’t understand, what is my first reaction?

I think we often act in a similar manner towards nature. We destroy that which we do not understand. As an example, we don’t, or haven’t in the past, fully understood rainforests. The rainforest is a wild place. To be able to live or work in them, you have to beat it back, you have to fight for your space in the middle of all that jungle. It is much easier to manage, to have control over a space, when you can handle what is in it, when you can know what is in it. So we kept cutting back vast expanses of this global resource, and are now facing the consequences.

As I said before, the theme of the unknown has kind of been following me these last months. This experience here has been full of it, as it’s my first time traveling and living in another country by myself. In the beginning, a lot of things were terrifying because I couldn’t understand them. I had a lot to learn, and it couldn’t all be done overnight. My trip to Nicaragua was something of a cumulative exam in all the lessons I’ve learned over the last three months on how to travel well down here. Mostly, the key is learning to step into the unknown and fully embrace it, instead of trying to categorize it or force it into an existing framework. Embrace the adventure. You may have no idea what the outcome will be, but you can only deal with things when they actually happen, and not a minute before. Be smart, but don’t stress! Let it go, and don’t be afraid to take that first step.

I’m looking forward to a few weeks of the typical routine here at the Choza. I’m adding a few things to the house by painting some windows and making curtains. I’m also studying Spanish a lot and looking for more chances to get out and go for a run. It’s good to get back into the rhythm here. I had fun traveling, but every day I’m a little more convinced I live in the most beautiful part of the country. “Que vida!”, as the saying goes here

Until next week!
-Mariah

 

As summer progresses, more and more produce from the farm is ready to eat. Just this week, a few heads of lettuce began unfurling a little, indicating their readiness. I’ve been using them in place of tortillas, in wraps and salads and let me tell you, they are delicious.

As more ripens around here, I’ve found myself thinking more about our food system and that fact that, in general, I don’t really think about where my food comes from. I don’t think about it because I don’t have to. At home in the States, all the thinking has been done for me. I just have to decide what to buy.

So, I’ve been asking myself the question, “What is the impact, then?” What does it mean when I don’t have to think about the steps that precede produce lined grocery shelves?

I distinctly remember a winter in Chicago a few years ago, where I was in a Whole Foods and severely disappointed in the tomato selection. The only ones that looked promising were a carton of grape tomatoes “grown in Mexico”. As I stood there debating whether to buy them or not, it suddenly hit me, “I can’t just expect to get tomatoes year round. There is a tomato season. And this is not it.” After watching my parents grow tomatoes for most of my life, you would think I would have realized that by then. But it was a connection I hadn’t brought into the grocery store—I wanted good looking tomatoes, and I fully expected to get them even though outside there was snow on the ground.

It was around that time that I watched Food, Inc. for the first time and signed up for a CSA share with a friend. I began thinking more seriously about eating seasonally, and thoroughly enjoyed the idea and the challenge behind cooking with what you have. I learned about how some tomato growers will ripen their tomatoes with a gas after they have been picked, and I began researching GMO’s and all the controversy behind them.

However, I was still going to the grocery store for all the rest of my food—bananas, flour, sugar, wine, olive oil, milk, cereal. I also frequented coffee shops and restaurants…with little to no thought as to where all this food must have come from or who must have grown it. I always chose local and organic when it was available, because I was convinced it was better for me, my family and the world. But without my own farm, how was I supposed to give my food choices any more thought when it came to dry goods or eating in restaurants?

Here, life is a little different. I am surrounded by food—right now the farm is producing spinach, lettuce, tomatoes, squash, bananas, and more. It’s fantastic. But for basics like flour and oil, I am a three-hour bus ride away from the nearest grocery store. I have to stock up so I don’t run out of these “necessities”. But being able to see the entire growth cycle of the rest of my food makes a bag of flour packaged in San Jose look sadly lacking. I am realizing that we demand an incredible amount from our food system. I want a fine wine, I want a high quality olive oil, I want this specific kind of red wheat flour and the only decision I have to make is how much to pay. I don’t have to consider where it was made or who harvested it…It’s really incredible when you think about it. I am learning to bear a greater level of appreciation for things.

A few examples come to mind. First, my coffee. I have seen the entire process from beginning to end now. I can’t help but consider the deep red of the berries and think of vast hillsides of the green shrubs when I scoop grounds into the coffee maker, and inhale that deep roasted smell.  Then, there are the fish. We brought fish to our farm a few weeks ago, and the whole process was way more interesting that I thought it would be. We had to walk pretty far to a stock pond, use a net to catch as many as we could, and transport them down the mountain to our fish pond. That day we also caught a bunch of bigger fish for Solin’s family and neighbors. There was something about being a part of the whole process, seeing the little guys, seeing the bigger fish ready to eat, watching the little ones adapt to their new home, knowing that they will provide food for the inhabitants of the Choza and contribute to the permaculture cycle in that part of the farm. Their pond is more than 100 yards away from the house, but I am so aware of their presence here, as other little living things…It’s as if I was exposed to their plight as living beings and now I can’t help but want to watch out for them. That sounds a little cheesy, but that goes for absolutely everything I am a part of here.

There is something about the watching and the waiting. You learn an appreciation for the journey the life around you has to take. Solin planted squash plants back in December, when summer began. A few weeks ago, they began to flower and I have been waiting…watching…waiting for some fruit to appear. Just yesterday I walked past a plant and just laying there was a huge zucchini like squash. I had completely missed it, but there it was. It will be ready to eat soon.

I have struggled to write this post this week, because I am still asking a lot of questions and I don’t have many definitive answers (but that’s not unusual ) I wonder what choices I will need to make once I get back to the States? What will need to change? Is the solution for everyone to begin growing absolutely everything they eat? No, I don’t think so. The system was created for a reason. My life is so much easier because I can buy flour in a grocery store and I don’t have to press my own olive oil. We’re able to give our time to other passions and pursuits and that is how it should be.

But maybe I will postulate a few answers, for good measure. The first step is becoming an informed consumer. Know, really know, where your food comes from. Who grew it? What did they use in the process? How does that affect the world around you?  How does it affect the people that grew it? Learn the growing process. Teach your kids! Learn your climate, get your hands dirty in some soil every once in a while. If you discover some kind of injustice, get informed and do something about it. Don’t just ignore it. And then…appreciate what you have. Appreciate peaches and rainbow chard and Jonagold apples all in their own seasons. Appreciate the cup of coffee from your local coffee shop, remembering the journey those beans took to get to your store…

For me, this appreciation makes my life that much fuller. I am left only with thoughts about how much I do have, and how much I want to give back.

Until next week, friends!

-Mariah

Hello friends! Happy weekend to you.

The past two weeks have been a little different for me. The regular pace and rhythm of life at the Choza has been broken up by two trips to Ciudad Colon to visit the University for Peace. This week I attended their Internship Fair to talk about our Fellowship program with the students. It was really exciting to get to hear from the students what ideas have captured them and what fields they are pursuing. The mission of UPeace is to “provide humanity with an international institution of higher education for peace with the aim of promoting among all human beings the spirit of understanding, tolerance and peaceful coexistence, to stimulate cooperation among peoples and to help lessen obstacles and threats to world peace and progress”. Hm. Inspiring. I spoke with one student who is from eastern Congo. She was so passionate and told me, “I am really very interested in peace education. I believe that peace really can come through education for our children!” Right on, Marthe!

I am heading back to La Choza today, and I’m not sure what the weekend will hold. Definitely some long walks, reading, and studying. We’ll see what else transpires In the meantime, I wanted to share the coffee post I’ve been working on. It’s been a whole month since we harvested the berries, and I’ve finally made it (almost) all the way through the process. I definitely have a new appreciation of the work that goes into each cup! So, without further ado…

How to Make Café: from berries to beans

First, go on a really long hike with some really wonderful people, and learn how to pick coffee from trees taller than your house. The berries fall into a sack, held by your friends like a hammock underneath the branches.

Take your berries home, and soak them in water for days. Some people don’t soak their berries at all, and that works too. If you’re lucky enough to harvest solely red berries, you probably don’t need to soak them. We harvested an especially tough-skinned variety, so soaking was helpful. Your coffee may soak anywhere from 3 days to a week. I soaked mine for 5 days, and could have soaked them longer. Change the water every other day or so, and keep an eye on  your berries so they don’t spoil.

When you think it’s time (go with your gut), lay your coffee out in the sun on a large sack or a sheet. Every morning, put it in a place that gets a lot of intense sun during the day, and every night bring the sack inside. Repeat this for as long as you need to. The goal is to have the skin of your berries “bien seca”, which means really, really dry. You should be able to peel them fairly easily by hand at this point. My berries sat out for almost a week and a half!

The next step is removing the skin from your berries. Coffee has three layers–an outer skin, an inner skin, and the coffee bean. Here’s what the berries look like after drying:

Here they are with the first layer removed:

And here’s the beans:

The typical process of removing the skin requires something called a pilón which looks like a giant mortar and pestle. You crush the berries in the pilón until the outer layers fall off, and separate the basura from the beans much like wheat is separated from chaff. Since I had such a small harvest, I crushed the berries by hand with a large rolling pin. It worked, but next time I’ll be using a pilón :)

After this step, your beans are ready to roast. I haven’t had a chance to do it yet, but trust me, it’s coming. Most folks around here do it over a wood stove, and the coffee takes on a smokey flavor. It’s lovely. However, you can still do it on a gas stove. Place the beans in a heavy pot and roast over low heat, stirring frequently. I’ll be sure to post some pictures of the roasting process when I get there.

And that’s it! I’m pretty excited to try the coffee these beans make–I hear it’s extra strong. I may wait until I can get a handful of people to try it with me. That’s an experience that needs to happen with friends

Until next week!

-Mariah