Scooping Brown Treasures in Paradise

Life on a permaculture farm. Plus latest posts from September 2022

Oct 01, 2022

WARNING: I usually try to keep the language in this newsletter family-friendly. However, we are living and working on a farm where a word for a certain type of biomass, considered profane in polite company, is here used as common terminology.

A lot has happened since our last newsletter. The question is, how much time do we spend documenting it versus experiencing it? It’s a balance, of course.

It might be a while before we produce some hefty analytical posts about all that we’re learning and experiencing. But I at least want to give you a hint of where we’re at. So in this newsletter, I’ll provide you some short vignettes about our present life, and a rough idea of what’s next.

Life in an Eco Community

Coming off of two months of independent travel in Rio de Janeiro, Teresópolis and Paraty, Brazil, we were happy to fall into the loving arms of a ready-made community at Eco Caminhos permaculture farm. We missed having a social life.

Our family likes to pose “would you rather” questions. So here’s one for you. Would you rather do a creative, highly-skilled desk job? Or would you rather shovel shit in paradise? For me, that’s not a purely hypothetical question. (Maybe someday I’ll have an answer. When I do I’ll let you know.)

But back to the manure. Those piles of pliable pudding are critical to the mission of the farm.

When we first arrived, we were surprised to see cows on the farm, given their bad reputation among tree huggers.

“Are they for milk or meat?” I asked.

“They’re for keeping the grass down, and for the bosta… shit,” replied Dutra, the founder’s right-hand man who was driving us up the steep path to the farm after dark.

Feces, it seemed to me, was the least desirable of all bovine outputs. But we quickly learned otherwise. In addition to providing a natural fertilizer for the agroforestry operation, it is also included as an additive to the cob material forming the walls of our bioconstructed lodge, as well as the other structures on the farm. Not only are those applications more sustainable than their alternative, but the thick “earthen” walls provide more nighttime warmth than the typical concrete home in the region.

The bio-constructed Ecolodge with green roof where we will live for the next two months. Solar-powered water boiler pictured on bottom right.

The cows keep the grass down, generate construction materials, and frighten the city slickers who must sometimes share the same road running through the farm.

The Bowels of Brazilian Bureaucracy

While we are on topic of bullshit, let me tell you about visa extensions.

Eventually, I’ll recount all the details and put together an up-to-date guide for anyone who needs to do this in the future. But right now it’s too soon. I’m still recovering from the trauma.

So, here’s the short version.

As U.S. tourists, we can remain in Brazil for ninety days. An additional ninety days may be requested at a federal police station, but only one that offers that service.

“It’s just a formality,” we were assured.

By the time we were done, I seriously questioned whether the consequences for overstaying outweighed the effort, cost, and exasperation we endured.

The clown show began before we even left. We found ourselves marooned at the farm with our way-too-expensive rental car. It’s all they had for the two days we needed it, supposedly. This delayed our trip while the daily rental rate accrued. Heavy rains had turned the mountainside dirt road into a slip ‘n slide of death.

We tried to inch the car down anyway, against the stern advice from our hosts that we not even try it. Their advice was accurate. We had to abandon the effort half way.

A pause in the rainfall the next day gave us our chance to drive it down the rest of the way.

The next morning we walked the long, steep road down to our car, then drove the three hours to Macaé, where a police station could process our request.

When we arrived, a man at the front desk sifted through our documents, asking if we had paid the fee and filled out the form. Of course we did. He left us with our papers and walked off back to his cubicle. We stood for an uncomfortably long time wondering what next.

Then, another man came and scotch-taped a sheet of paper with bold letters on the window. Sem Sistema — system down. “You can wait, or come back Monday,” a woman announced a while later to the filled waiting room.

We spent two frustrating hours thinking we would most likely have to make the three-hour drive home empty-handed. We had already spent more than the fine we were trying to avoid.

Liuan, through a combination of desperation and stubbornness that is her superpower in these situations, finally pushed the sign-taping man to act. He punched the magic stamp in our passports, but not before walking off in the middle to take a long snack break.

But hey, we got it done. And sometimes that’s all that matters in the end.

The “Camino” Ahead

You’re probably wondering how we aim to travel all of South America, much less other places in the world, if we haven’t yet moved from a single Brazilian state in more than three months abroad. (Ha! Who am I kidding. You probably weren’t even aware of that detail. You’ve got your own stuff to think about.)

Well, at least our traveling is on brand. We’re putting the “slow” in Slow Camino.

Starting our adventure at a camel’s gait has been beneficial. It’s allowed us to improve our Portuguese, get to know people, and dig deep into the uniqueness of the region. Rio de Janeiro state has so many stunning landscapes and features that one can spend four months and still not see it all.

That said, we plan to pick up the pace a bit in the months ahead.

Here is an outline of our plan:

We will spend a total of two months at the Eco Caminhos farm. We are now on week three.

After that, in early November, Liuan’s mom will travel with us for three adventure-packed weeks. It will be a whirlwind tour — appropriate for my mother-in-law’s indomitable stamina and short timeframe — where we’ll revisit some of the greatest hits of our travel so far, take an overnight bus to Iguazu Falls (WAY bigger than Niagara, in case you’re wondering), and then spend the last week in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

From there, we may head south to Patagonia. Or we may spend some time in the north of Argentina, possibly crossing into Uruguay for a stretch. It depends on what we’re in the mood for and what opportunities fall into our laps.

But for now, we are enjoying the view and trying not to get too far ahead of ourselves.