Tourists enter Costa Rica with visions of exotic wildlife, beaches, and tropical splendour dancing in their heads, only to be jolted into the chaotic reality of Latin American city life. The cities of Alajuela and San Jose can be a jarring experience for the tourist who has been dreaming of cloud forests and surfing lessons. While most tourists are whisked away from the airport in private shuttles to their resorts and eco-tours far from the black exhaust and barred windows of urban life, backpackers tend to spend a night or two in San Jose or Alajuela before moving on to more scenic environments. It took me five days to move on, and as the bus wound its way through the mountains and drove through clouds so thick you couldn't see the road, I remembered that I was in one of the most biodiverse and beautiful countries in the world.
This beautiful reality was even more evident as I hiked up the mountain to my first real destination of this trip. I was lucky enough to be accompanied on this steep ascent by two pros going to my exact destination. I met them on the bus and they gladly directed me and waited for me to catch up and then eventually relieved me of my backpack as we continued up and up and up. I really didn't think I was going to make it! But I did and when I had caught my breath what I found on top of that mountain was a tropical paradise of simple sustainability.
As a permaculture enthusiast (albiet an amateur one) I immediately took in the diversity of fruit trees, flowers, herbs, tropical staples such as yucca and chayote, and "euro veggies" such as carrots and cucumbers. I also took in the energy of the place - relaxed, mellow, peaceful. It is difficult to put into words the purity of this permaculture community in the mountains of Costa Rica, but I will try. This is the sort of community that practices what some of us (definitely me) preach in our school, work, and activist lives but very rarely have the time, patience or guts to truly implement: grey water systems, composting toilets, a simple diet mostly from the farm, vermi-composting, limited internet, no t.v., and intentional community. The people who call this place home have created this lifestyle and for the most part they embody these activities with gratitude and hard work.
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| Composting Toilet |
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Natural Toilet Paper Conveniently
Located Next to the Loo |
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| The Beginnings of a Food Forest |
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| Permaculture Zone 1 = Abundance |
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| Permaculture Zone 5 = Jungle Canopy |
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| Freshly Planted Pineapple |
I spent the better part of a week in this permaculture community, observing the daily activities, chores, interactions, and altercations that took place around me. I was fortunate enough to be taken under the wing of a gardening veteran, a natural leader and hardworking individual who had come here to learn how to start a similar community back home. Under his direction, I learned how to plant pineapples and propagate sweet potatoes, I soaked up countless tidbits of tropical agriculture trivia, and I learned the importance of nurturing and sustaining community.
My permaculture research up to this point has been largely focused on biophysical elements - number and types of plants in an area, nutrient cycling, companion planting, and design, but not people. Yet, Toby Hemenway, a permaculture expert, has argued the myth of self-reliance and acknowledged the importance of community and interconnectedness. He says in his
blog: "Claiming self sufficiency in almost anything insults and ignores the mountain of shoulders we all stand on."
In the case of this permaculture community, where the responsibilities for chores, such as cooking, cleaning, sweeping, and recycling constantly rotate, where children are taught, disciplined, and loved by all, and where everyone is responsible for the maintenance and running of the farm, it is clear that it takes a village to raise a sustainable community.
