i'm short on words these days with difficulty contemplating every morning as i walk towards the kitchen of Illani and Guayo's adobe house how i will sum up each week that i'm here. How typical that i have spent the majority of my time pondering up the next food creation for the following day, to have the savory and sweet flavors of food jump off a fork or spoon, diving into the palate of 10 maybe 20, perhaps 30 people. All from various parts of the world representing there time here as wwoofers, as families just visiting, poets, or men recovering from deep, dark troubling pasts fighting with addiction looking for forgiveness in the country hills of there home land and on and on and on.
Although after sitting down with all of these crazy individuals(who probably think the same of me), watching them give praise and thanks for a big meal, i wish i had more time to be outside. I have enjoyed my time in the garden, tending to weeds, searching under the prickly leaves of cucumbers of which none are trellised, but still happily green and loving life. Pulling beets with the reminder of doing so all not that long ago for Josh and Jean this summer, my mouth watering just looking at the golden yellow and blood stained red sweet treats. Feeling impatient as the peppers may have been planted too late as summer nears to an end. Tomatoes mostly green still, i watch them slowly turn a shade less each day. Raspberries invading the remaining sectors of an area i so wish to increase in size by double. I keep a sharp, precise eye on the red and blue potatoes that have had very good luck here. Sadly, i question how long this garden will last with honest care and consideration. Alas, my never ending battle of where to plant myself(no pun intended) each day. It's just finding a balance between cooking and cultivating i guess...
Long time friend and neighbor, Juan, usually watches over things as Illani, Guayo, and co. typically depart to their California residence in June or July. I imagine it's a good break for them after a busy spring and summer in Catrico each year. Also, because flights are cheaper than heating there house in the winter. I still get this funny feeling, like there is a need for me to be around longer to make sure things are tended to peacefully. Not to dissaprove of the caretakers here when they are gone but so much more could be obtained, i think, from this land. Illani and Guayo hold hectares just in Catrico, another property much further north near a penguin community shared with whales and other marine life. Seeing this land gets me more and more excited about having my own farm.
Today, Erika, the german wwoofer who holds her respect more for cabios than humans, unfortunately departs today. She has spent the last few months in Chile looking for a rightful place to care for horses. As i have spent a lot of time with my grandparent's horses when i was much younger, i feel very content and comfortable with the horses here. They're all so different from eachother, but they share a strong companionship with each other. Erika has been great about reestablishing a connection with them individually and between human and horse. At times, it's been tough to get on the horse because of the close memories i had with my own two, Sheba and lacy. But all is well after the feet set in, and the butt is perched in the saddle. Nothing can take away the time invested riding horseback. Erika...I will miss her energy and perseverance to be a stronger person most of all. Others come and go as the wind is slow to move here, maybe once a week, i watch it strike the apple and plum trees, whizzing by the sun dial garden that i transplanted chives, mint and oregano in. Fellow friends, you will be missed, but i won't forget you when the wind returns again.
I watch the worker's craftiness, there way with saws and lumber. Erecting a new bathroom in the main house with a view that encapsulates all the surrounding pasture land, and utilizing the chilean chestnut: castellano for door handles, towel racks, etc. The tarnish really puts an exclamation point on the wood. They continue to finish steps outside, a rustic metal rack for holding tea mugs in the kitchen, and so much more. I think i will immerse myself in a carpentry course or two when i get back to the states, perhaps right after my first year at FoodCorps if i'm accepted in. After seeing them master these projects, it inspires me to get involved with carpentry work. I want to build my own house, a cottage style with two floors influenced by lake houses in the new england region. But then i'm so into adobe and how i would want to incorporate that. And if i can't build my own house, i at least want to take part in the construction of it. The barn that holds the sheep and Llama's is a neat design. It's a figure 8. One section is meant for the Llama's and the other for the sheep, but it appears they all enjoy eachothers company so much, they just end up wherever, together. Illani enjoys the concept of circles and morphing or twisting similar shapes when building so is the reason behind the barn.
Several days now have passed. I've had to put this down to contemplate more. I had a fun opportunity to slow cook a leg of wild boar or today, contending with making mozzarella and queso fresco. Outside projects include clearing the bog that contain arandanos(blueberries) and hopefully next year cranberries. The vegetable garden is being overwhelmingly taken over by the frambuesas(raspberries) so we will transplant the roots to the bog also. In between those tasks: tieing up loose ends with the spring up on the mountain by fixing the decanting tank so it actually works, cleaning the barns out for winter, weeding out the garden for the following year, winterizing the house and tidying up before we head north, where even more tasks will be laid out until our brief stint in Peru.
I will end with some poetry:
The straps, fastened in
pull them tighter, you'll bleed the horse
we drift onto the rocky roads of catrico
gates await our toggle to unlock the secrets
further yonder, green and yellow pastures bristle our hands
at last we reach the firey heavens of the disco
salivating the pig
breaking for the cool river as i sit pondering about life and death
lets go back before the dark is too dark for our eyes
trot, canter, gallop onward home
volcano, volcano, volcano smoke
the others desire for more helados like children begging for candy
while the smell of brassicas in the field tempt my slithering tongue
stars turn themselves on, replacing the bulbs of dead ones filling the sky
tints of red, orange
hues of yellow and blue
smiling, knowing all will be okay in the end
Orion's belt, big and little dippers, Jupiter
and on and on, i dream with the horse...
