Waking Up In A City Cloud Forest
21st June 2024
This morning, I opened my eyes to the sun filtering through porthole-shaped windows as I rolled over on my camping mat in the front room of Armando, Esther and Leonardo; the family who own and protect “Bosque Don Roberto”, Xalapa’s city cloud forest.
There was a huge storm last night. I woke up with a start to flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder and counted the seconds between them to calculate the storm’s proximity. At one point there were no seconds at all.
The thunder sounded almost like a huge wave breaking and I imagined it rolling down the Gulf of Mexico. The rain hammered down on the trees outside and I wondered how well the city would cope with the sudden downpour after such a long drought.
It reminded me of a conversation Leo and I were having about losing the balance. It was about how the weather changes have become so much more drastic. Rainy seasons are being pushed later and later, and droughts are dragging on for long periods.
Ending Up In A City Cloud Forest
At the weekend, an opportunity materialised out of the blue to get a lift to Xalapa, the capital of the state of Veracruz. I’d just been talking with some friends about how I need to visit Veracruz before leaving México. I remembered that one of the things on my list of intentions for México was to see “el bosque de niebla”, the cloud forest” with an ecologist.
My friend Amanda put me in contact with a family who are part of the agroecological youth community they work with, “Selva Joven”, who she described as owning a cloud forest in the middle of the city. Cool.
A lift door-to-door from farm to forest felt like an opportunity to grab with both hands. So, I quickly packed up my bags and gratefully accepted a ride from Paty, who’s sweet and petite but strong. She calls everyone “corazon” or “mi vida”, “heart” or “my life”, but she’s a badass solo female traveller with manic overtaking skills and brilliant road rage. “Pinches pendejos”. Lol.
We passed through La Sierra Madre Oriental and over the Mexican plateau. The “carretera libre” (basically the road you don’t have to pay tolls) was way more interesting than the “autopista”. Paty said it’s because it passes through the fields and villages, rather than being lined with big companies like the motorway.
Fields and fields of monoculture corn whizzed by. I watched as mini tornados of dust storms whipped up into the air from the uncovered soil around the corn plants. We passed a huge factory sprawling out over the desertified land, I squinted my eyes to read the logo. Heineken. An example of a multinational conglomerate and the footprint they are leaving here in México. Don’t even get me started on Coca-Cola.
The whole way we passed the rapidly expanding sea of concrete that is engulfing Mexican soil. Everywhere I look buildings are being constructed. México is a country in rapid development.
After arriving earlier than expected, thanks to Paty’s overtaking, we met her friends who welcomed me warmly with a kiss on the cheek and a strong hug, Mexican-style. They’d planned to go to eat and asked if I’d like to join them.
We ate “tostadas”, “pozole” and drank “agua de jamaica”. After finishing our meal, it started to rain heavily. We ran to the car and they gave me a lift to the forest.
Arriving To Bosque Don Roberto
I opened the door and was greeted by a radiantly smiley woman with a puffy blue jacket, holding an umbrella to protect herself, then me, from the rain, Esther.
I gave her a big hug and caught a glimpse of a huge rainbow that had appeared over her shoulder.
“Mira, un arcoiris!”, “look, a rainbow!”, I exclaimed.
“Justo cuando llegaste”, “just when you arrived”, she replied.
It confirmed to me I was in a good place.
Armando, Esther’s husband, and Leonardo, their 14-year-old son, got out of a red truck to greet me. Armando helped me put my bags in the front and we drove up to the house. We immediately started talking about the state of the world, agroecology, and the education system. Classic.
“Educación es todo”, “education is everything”, he confirmed.
Leonardo is homeschooled. Here, state schools aren’t a great option due to the poor quality of education. But the private schools are expensive and breed a certain attitude that we agreed was unhelpful, favouring a societal gap between rich and poor that is wide here. He told me they had looked around Waldorf and Montessouri schools but eventually decided to teach Leo themselves, learning from day-to-day activities and sharing their interests in philosophy, history and culture. To learn by by doing and being.
Some Forest Happenings
Immediately after getting here, I got sick. I slept a lot and puked a lot. Niiiice. But, thankfully, yesterday afternoon I felt strong enough to go on a little walk in the forest with Leo.
He showed me different types of “Encino”, Oak (Quercus) here in the forest. Some ancient and positively dripping with epiphytes; orchids, lichens and moss. Flippin heck.
He also showed me a huge tree called “Jinicuil” which is the species Inga inicuil, part of the Fabaceae family, who always seem to be my faves. “Leguminosa”. Great for nitrogen-fixing and brilliant for soil. From my research, it looks like the Jinicuil is often used as shade in coffee plantations, and sure enough, beneath it grew a coffee plant. From which came the beans we had hand-ground yesterday morning for a cuppa. Super tasty.
I got all tired and crouched down to rest. Then my eyes widened as Leo handed me a black, half-decomposed branch covered in mycelium. Yep, I like this place.
After peering at mycelium and bryophytes for a while, we scrambled up the slope to meet a small path to be met with a man carrying the flower of the “Izote”, (Yucca gigantea), part of the Asparagaceae fam. Armando told me yesterday that you can eat the flower. Sure enough, my research suggests it is often eaten a la Mexicana (with tomato, onion and chile — red, white and green, the colours of the Mexican flag).
We greeted him and all seemed fine at first then Leo asked where he had come from and reminded him that it was private property. He got quite hostile and threatening. I tried to say something but he wouldn’t look me in the eye. Leo held his ground.
Leo said it is common for them here to have altercations like that. He showed me the houses constructed on the top of the hill in their forest without permission, precariously placed without stable foundations, and vulnerable to landslides.
He told me of people threatening to the concrete over the wetland (one of 4 left in the city of Xalapa, and the best preserved), and the problems they have had with people encroaching on the perimeter of their land and chopping down trees. Blimey.
We spoke of how much the forest here, and elsewhere in the world are so desperately needed, and wondered why many people are still blind to their value.
“Una falta de conciencia ambiental”, a lack of environmental consciousness.
Better go about changing that then, hadn’t we?
Developing A Writing Practice
After visiting Oaxaca, a vibrant city of colours, culture and art, I decided to commit to drawing something every day in my notebook. To develop my artistic skills and to capture memories of my travels.
I’ve had an idea for ages that I want to write and illustrate a story. It’s about Nature, plants and soil. But it’s also about human nature and the communities of beings that live alongside us.
So on the journey to Xalapa, whilst looking out of the car window and watching the ecosystems change with longitude, latitude, and human disturbance, I realised that I’d like to commit to writing every day too. Even something small. But, to develop my writing skills, encourage me to research the places and plants (💚) where I am and to document things along the way.
That was the plan, I just got distracted by all the other things happening. But you have to dedicate yourself to the things you want to make them happen, don’t you? So, here goes.
I’d love it if you’d like to follow me on my journey.
Big love, Mel x
