Mud and Maté

For the last two weeks I've been farming out here in Epuyén, Argentina. I'm volunteering on a small chacra called Taiquén, owned by a very friendly fortyish couple with a young son, two dogs, two cats and five sheep.

The seeds of Taiquén were sown about ten years ago. Gabriel and Cristina had been living in nearby Cholila until they found a few acres to buy here in Epuyén, an unassuming town tucked into the front range of the Argentine Andes. A few kilometers from the village, beautiful Lago Epuyén extends back into the mountains, where patches of snow hint at the many glaciers hidden deeper in the range.

This valley is on the edge of the vast Patagonian steppe, reminiscent of parts of the western US and characterized by wiry grasses and thorny shrubs. Trees of any size are a sure sign of either water or a farm. Sparse rainfall and strong winds leave little room for luxurious greenery, but where the steppe meets the mountains forests of pine and beech take advantage of increased moisture. It's late January, and the dog days of the Argentinian summer make work virtually impossible from one o'clock until about five. But although the afternoons are blistering, the nights cool down to a refreshing 50 degrees.

The farm is a few miles from the village on a dusty dirt road, a little oasis in a landscape more often used as range land for horses or sheep. When Gabriel and Cristina bought the land, there was nothing but bristly brown grass and brambles. They sank a well and started a homestead. Gabriel has a lot of experience in earth building techniques, and they built a house using wooden beams and mud brick. The end result is an cozy little house that fits the local climate as well as the landscape.

Then came the greenhouse and various irrigated plots. Apple trees and raspberry canes, shade trees and sheep pen, hen house and beehives. Gooseberries, currants, blackberries and a greenhouse full of tomatoes. Not to mention beets, broccoli, carrots, salad greens, cucumbers, herbs, peppers, cabbage, and so on. Other farm products include jams, pickles and honey.

My farm duties have mostly been made up of the daily chores that keep things moving. Feeding the animals, collecting eggs, opening and closing the greenhouse vents, putting the sheep to pasture first thing in the morning and getting them back in the pen at dusk. Not to mention flipping the switches, twisting the valves and priming the pump of a complicated but very efficient irrigation system.

Our main project over the past two weeks has been the construction of a small building down by the road. Something of a farm stand/kitchen for the production of jams, preserves, pickles, etc. The foundation was already formed up when I arrived, so a couple days were spent mixing and pouring concrete. I also added to the supply of mud bricks on hand, which was as simple as mixing soil and water, pulling on some rubber boots, stomping around and trowelling the mud into molds. The bricks dried in the sun for several days, then we started constructing the walls.

It's been interesting to see how to build with earth, but lugging bricks and splashing around in the mud had me wondering at times what I was doing with my 'vacation.' But the building usually happened in the mornings, and after siesta there were peas and raspberries to pick and mulching to be done. At one point I even put on a bee suit to pull apart some hives with Gabriel. And not many days went by without a maté or two.

A word about maté: Maté is the national drink of Argentina, and most people don't go a day without it. A dried gourd or wooden cup is filled with the dried, crushed leaves of the yerba maté (a shrubby tree growing in the north.) A metal straw is inserted, hot water is poured in, and the resulting infusion is what flows through the veins of virtually every Argentine. The whole ritual is more meaningful and nuanced than I've described, especially since maté is usually shared around in a group. There's more than one dose in a maté, and once one person has their sip, the gourd is refilled with hot water and passed on. . . and I've shared many a maté with Gabriel and Cristina over the past two weeks.

I can't wait to get back on the road, but I had a great time at Taiquén. I got to share the life of an Argentine family and escape the cycle of guesthouses, buses and restaurants that form the unavoidable framework of travel. I got relax with my morning coffee with a view of the mountains. But I need to move, so tomorrow morning I'm catching a bus or thumbing it down to Parque Nacional Los Alerces for a little hiking before I head back to Chile.

FYI: I got this gig through WWOOF (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms), a global farm network started in the UK in 1971. I bought an annual membership back in November for $25, thinking it might come in handy. The basic WWOOF model is food and lodging in exchange for farm labor, although the fundamental idea is to create an experience in which volunteers are introduced to organic farming techniques and lifestyles. If you're curious, check out www.wwoof.org.