Bahia Reports from Carey Knecht, Feb/Mar 2000
Carey Knecht writes, "I joined up with Planet Drum and the Eco-Bahia project because I was deeply
inspired by the task of integrating nature and a city. That is a task that
requires not only reforesting one hillside, but actually changing culture.
..." In the reports below, we learn how she attempted to carry out
this vision.
Index of Feb/Mar 2000 Dispatches
[Most recent dispatches at top of list]
Eco-City
Declaration First Anniversary Celebration, March 3, 2000
Bahia Reports from Carey #1, Feb
21, 2000
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By Carey Knecht (Planet Drum Foundation field staff person overseeing
revegetation project)
I joined up with Planet Drum and the Eco-Bahia project because I was deeply
inspired by the task of integrating nature and a city. That is a task that
requires not only reforesting one hillside, but actually changing culture.
Sometimes I wonder how these projects relate. Sometimes I feel like the only
nature I'm bringing into the city is in the mud on my boots. But sometimes the
parallels jump out at me.
This past weekend, I participated in events that brought the reforestation
work down from the hill, into downtown Bahia, in a festive, concrete way. This
past weekend was the celebration of the One Year Anniversary of Bahia's Ecocity
Declaration. The events of the weekend started with a parade through the town.
The children in the Clubs Ecologicos marched in lines, holding signs with
environmental messages. "Queens" decorated in skirts of leaves and
flower necklaces rode on triciclos festooned with palm leaves. This river of
young life and vegetation flowed through the streets of Bahia for two
hours.
After the parade, the Fiesta Verde began in an open park on the beach front:
theatrical acts and clowns; music including Latin rock, merengue, cumbia, and
even The Police; the singing of Anja Light. The music, the party attracted a
large group of onlookers bringing ecology to the people.
The next day, nature came again to downtown Bahia. The patio under the
Municipio (city hall) was filled with seedlings, demonstrations, and posters
an exposition of many ecological projects in Bahia. Enthusiasts brought tubs
filled with mud and worms, samples of every seedling we're planting in the
project and many more, a formidable (meter high) chunk of Paja Macho grass. Next
to the composting-worm folks, we set up a display with posters showing where
we're located, happy to finally be able to thoroughly explain what we're
planting and where.
At the same time, inside the building, experts gave speeches on the wildlife
of the region and the environmental law in Ecuador. Although the large venue
left many seats open, I was surprised at the number of adults interested in
listening to semi-technical information in the middle of a Saturday. Still, to
me, more telling than the number of adults scattered throughout the back of the
theater, were the children, who filled the two front rows.
To finish off the weekend, Sunday and Monday were work days short
projects like trying to create a healthy home for Miguelito la Tortuga a
tortoise from the Galapagos Islands and ceremonially planting mangrove trees
for the Dia de Mangles.
After the weekend, back to the hillside, to plant again. To dig a hole, put
the clump of grass in, cover it up, wish it well. (To do this on a 75-degree
slope of loose dirt clumps or, even worse, wet clay.) After three days of rain,
I returned to a whole section of grass that had seemed completely dead. Out of
every brown dried-up clump of grass, every one, was one small green blade of
grass a new sprout.
This week, in two days we planted 924 seedlings 500 frutillo and 424
guayacan and three-and-a-half pickup truck loads of grass. Now, after three
cool days of alternating rain and sun, when I walk on the hill, the ground no
longer looks barren I no longer envision it washing away. I imagine the
sprouting stakes and the lines of grass merging into a forest.
Last weekend, in two days, the Eco-Bahia Celebration planted many more than
924 seedlings. Now, when I walk through town, it no longer looks barren I no
longer imagine the concrete winning. I remember the parading children, the
dancing crowd. I imagine the seeds of thought they planted in the minds of the
onlookers, blossoming into a town where nature is welcomed.
El Aniversario de la declaratoria de Bahia como Eco-Ciudad, Clubes Ecolσgicos
(25 Feb 2000). [Anniversary of the Declaration of Bahia as an Eco-City, March of
the Ecology Clubs]
<<<<====>>>>
By Carey Knecht (Planet Drum Foundation field staff person overseeing
revegetation project)
The word that defined the first week was Tranquilo Peaceful, Tranquil.
Not that life WAS tranquil, but that was the ideal. Deal with all the pressures
of the job and not break a sweat (Ha!), make everything up on the spot, and
still exude assurance. And then at the end of the day, slip back into the spirit
of Bahia tranquilo.
That was the first week. The word that has defined the
past several days is Aguaje. Literally, it means high tide. But it comes with
the full moon, and every force of nature is more intense. Full moon. Strong sun.
Bigger waves and more dangerous currents. People restless, walking the streets
late at night. Aguaje.
Aguaje also means there's been no rain. No rain for days
and days. Aguaje is not a good time for planting. The idea of shutting down
operations for a week because of the moon seemed ridiculous a week ago I was
warned that aguaje was a bad time to plant, but I didn't consider changing the
plans, and no one even suggested it. But now, looking at the dry plants, it
seems logical. The ground is dry, nothing new has sprouted, and the grasses
we've planted are withering. If it doesn't rain until Thursday or Friday, like
Marcelo estimates, we're going to have to water the plants ourselves. Finding
this water is not going to be easy, not when everyone's rain barrels are low.
Even underground cisterns are emptying. The pipes into both Bahia and Leonidas
Plaza are not delivering water, I don't know why, so the people go out to the
streets and fill barrels from big trucks. I'm going to write to the mayor and
ask if he can send a water truck up to fill the cistern at the big white house
next to Station One.
Still, the plants persist, and so do we. They are still
alive (stakes, seedlings, and grasses) and as the moon and the sun release their
grip on the water, it will come down from the sky, and all that has been planted
will absorb and swell with green. Ojala.
Besides that, all is going well. We
have 800 plants to pick up tomorrow from San Vicente. Today we picked up the
remaining plants from Flor-Maria. Besides that, what we do always is
sacar paja/sembrar paja (dig grass up/plant it on the hill).
