El Rancho Amate: Chalmita, México
I’m writing this under the shade of a huge fig tree, Ficus insipida, in the garden of Rancho Ecológico El Amate, in Chalmita, México. It’s the home of Fabiola, and her now grown-up children, Amanda and Quetzalli.
Here’s the story of how it came about…
After I arrived in Mexico City, I travelled to Texcoco to stay with one of my best friends, Josh. We used to live together in Norwich whilst we studied at John Innes. He’s recently started his first post-doc at The International Maize and Wheat Improvement Center, CIMMYT, an internationally renowned not-for-profit research institute. What a bless that he’s in Mexico too!
He took me on a tour around the campus.
“We are walking on hallowed ground”, he joked as he showed me the statue of Norman Borlaug outside the main entrance of the institute.
Borlaug was the American agronomist, known as “the father of The Green Revolution.” He contributed to developing high-yield wheat varieties and agricultural practices that have since become “conventional”; the application of fertilisers, pesticides and herbicides.¹
His work helped save billions of lives of people suffering from starvation and contributed to the improvement of food security across the world. This was at a time when, just after World War II, it was desperately needed. However, these practices have led to the deterioration of soils across the globe, particularly harmful to the organisms of the soil food web that sustains life as we know it.
One evening, when the blazing sun had sunk behind the distant volcanoes, Popocatépetl and Iztaccíhuatl, which overlook the valley of Mexico City, Josh and I walked around the fields surrounding the laboratories, in the fading light.
We talked about what’s happening in the world, and the difference that land use and the agricultural system make to climate change. I lamented at the fields of uncovered soil, and the harm caused by the agricultural practices adopted by the industrial farming industry. Practices that destroy the soil life that the plant life requires. He reassured me that things are slowly changing as regenerative agriculture filters into the mainstream.
We discussed the public’s general outlook on genetic modification, differences with gene editing, risks, benefits, misconceptions and potential unknowns. He explained that gene editing is effectively what we do in plant-breeding programmes when we select for specific characteristics. But, instead of getting your desired variety in 10 years, you can do it in a single reaction. He told me he’d like to write a book about it one day. Great.
As we walked back to his dorm house past the statue of Norman Borlaug, I gave him a wave.
“Thanks, Norm, you saved lots of lives, we’ve just got to make a few changes now!”
After a few days of exploring Mexico City, I tired of the heat and concrete and craved Nature. So, I followed up with a contact about going to help on their agroecological farm, which sounded right up my street.
After hours of navigating the metropolis, I caught a bus to Chalma. My heart ached as I watched scorched fields of yellow grass pass by, sheep grazing on uncovered soil and a sky that hung heavy with dust. It’s the dry season at the moment. Climate change is pushing the rainy season later and later. Different country, same story.
The bus meandered along windy roads, traversing mountains covered in ash and bare tree trunks. It looked like there’d been fires recently.
Eventually, I arrived at El Rancho Amate and found that I’d stumbled upon a little green oasis.
Fabiola greeted me and showed me upstairs to a simple attic bedroom.
“Cuidado con tu cabeza”, “mind your head”, she gestured.
Together, we changed the sheets and swept the floor. Then we sat down with a drink and she began to explain some of their backstory.
She told me how she’d met her late husband, Christian, studying agronomy at University in Mexico City. Fabi was born there, and Christian was a Belgian traveller who’d spent years exploring Latin America, teaching French and guiding tourists.
They wanted to live differently. To try first-hand the agroecological recommendations they had been giving to local farmers.
They bought a piece of land in Chalmita, 4 hectares, with nothing but a huge old fig tree, El Amate. The soil was dry and compacted after years of growing maize. So, they began work to regenerate it and to establish their roots there.
First, they planted fruit trees; apples and peaches, followed by guava and citruses. Slowly, the farm started to grow as they built the main family house and now various other buildings, including:
- “El Cafe” - where Amanda makes breakfasts, coffee from their homegrown beans, and sells artesanias made by local people in the village.
- “El Estudio” - an open space for workshops, yoga or dancing.
- “Cabaña de Eucalipto” - a cabin for visitors to stay in.
- “La Fabrica” - where they make Rancho El Amate jams, marmalades, kombucha and apple cider vinegar.
- “La Biofabrica” - where they grow microbes, waaaahhhh listen!
The next day, Amanda and I were cleaning glass bottles to reuse for a new batch of kombucha, and I noticed a smell that reminded me of the warm room, where all the bacterial cultures grow in the lab at John Innes. Amanda showed me huge vats of fermenting microbes, that they inoculate the soil with. Interesting.
- “Microrisas” - a mix of endo and ectomycorrhizal fungi that form a symbiotic interaction with plant roots, enabling absorption of phosphates and minerals in exchange for sugars and lipids.
- “Nitroamix” - nitrogen-fixing bacteria that convert nitrogen from the atmosphere into nitrates, a form that plants can take up.
- “Insectilibrio” - a mix of fungi for biological pest control
- “Fungivida” - a mix of beneficial bacteria and fungi which prevent the growth of pathogens, whilst stimulating seed germination and plant growth.
I wondered about the microbes in “Insectilibrio” and “Fungivida”, the natural products they produce, and how they function.
Later, another volunteer, Victor, showed me their vats of “biol”, containing a right mix of goodies including “mierda de vaca, suelo de leche y melaza por los azucares”, “cow shit, whey, and melasses for sugars” amongst other tasty treats. He explained how they imitate the cow’s stomach to create a biological fertiliser.
We walked around “la parcela”, the garden. They use syntropic agriculture that imitates the natural regeneration of forests and integrates food production. This technique was pioneered by Ernst Götsch, a Swiss researcher who left his academic career to live on a farm in Bahia, Brazil. There, he restored the degraded land to a level of biodiversity and productivity comparable to untouched forests in the Amazon.²
I wondered about the regenerative agricultural techniques they use here on the farm. Biological fertilisers, high levels of biodiversity, cover crops and green manures including nitrogen-fixing legumes, and microbial inoculations. They understand the importance of feeding the soil with whole foods, rather than the synthetic fertilisers, or McDonald’s, that the industrial farming industry uses. It’s so much healthier for the soil life, the plant life they feed, the animals they feed, and the humans.
I also wondered how this type of agroecological food production could be adopted by other farmers, market gardeners and large-scale. Would it be possible? Feeding the soil to feed the world, could that be the real Green Revolution?³ We’d need to make a lot of changes and a significant education campaign...
Later, Fabi also told me of their youth programme “Selva Joven”. Three times a year they invite a group of young people to come and stay with them on the farm. They transmit their knowledge of regenerative agriculture and share a lived experience where the young people learn by doing and being.
The project aims to nurture leadership skills and encourage young people to build similar projects in their own communities. To expand the network.
The dream.
After settling in, I’m getting to know “la vida del campo”, farm life. Sometimes it is slow and peaceful, or the complete opposite when all the jobs arrive at once, like harvest time. But the ups and downs are part of the equilibrium and the rhythms feel natural. I love the simplicity and how it feels you can live more harmoniously with Nature. So, I’m finding myself feeling a sense of “tranquilidad”.
Vic and I have been helping with various bits and pieces; sorting and organising the seed collection, germination trials, looking after the chickens, and caring for the biological fertilisers, bokashi compost, and “lombricomposta”, “worm farm”. I’m learning by doing and being too.
There’s also inspiration in the air to paint and write. I’ve been feeling recharged to invest some energy into my personal projects that have been marinating in my mind for a while, hence here we are!
Being here at Rancho El Amate has reinforced the image of a distant dream. It’s made it material, and shown me that it is possible. “La vida del campo” is not for the faint hearted because it is bloody hard work. But to live harmoniously with Nature, to recycle energy into natural cycles, and to be able to set an example to the next generation, it’s definitely worth it.
One evening I asked Amanda, “Tu papá construyó todo esto, en serio?” “Did your Dad really build all this?”
She nodded.
“Tenía algún tipo de formación en construcción o algo?” “Did he have any type of construction training, or something?”
“Creatividad y sentido común, ya esta.”
“Creativity and common sense, that’s it.”
I smiled, satisfied that, yep, anyone can do it.
One day.
[1] Swaminathan, M. Norman E. Borlaug (1914–2009). Nature 461, 894 (2009). https://doi.org/10.1038/461894a
[2] “Ernst Götsch: The creator of the real green revolution”. Believe Earth.
[3] L. G. Horlings, T. K. Marsden, Towards the real green revolution? Exploring the conceptual dimensions of a new ecological modernisation of agriculture that could ‘feed the world’, Global Environmental Change, 21 (2)
(2011). https://doi.org/10.1016/j.gloenvcha.2011.01.004.
