Semana Blanca Part 2: What I actually did

Now that you know the people...

My first night at SDT was quite of blur of learning names by candlelight, eating flowers in my fresh-from-the-garden salad, brushing my teeth with the milky way above, and having slightly awkward conversations about veganism.  After that, things just took off from there, and my week was filled with new things and interesting people, all of which I will hardly ever forget.

Day two (after arrival): Woken up by the didgeridoo, which I can only assume was played by Mr. J.  Composted for the first couple hours with Ms. K and Mr. Ma in the gardens, then with Ms. A in the nursery after break.  In the afternoon I took a stroll around the property which confessed of years of many projects big and small, some successful, some unfinished, and some suffering from a bit of neglect.  That night I helped Mr. A make dinner and witness him throw nettle soup and leftover porridge together with some spices to make an interesting lentil curry.  Nothing, nothing, goes to waste.

Ahh!  A proper welcome

Day three: We started with a communal “flash weeding” and working of one of the vegetable patches.  I enjoyed this time immensely as it meant that most all the volunteers were in the same area working on the same thing.  It gave me a chance to talk with Ms. F and Ms. C and learn more about each of them.  In the afternoon Sra. P gave me and some other guests a thorough tour of the property and I had the opportunity to learn more about the workings and rationale for the solar oven, cooker, compost and dry toilets, and why exactly the fireplace really isn’t that warm (apparently because it’s actually quite efficient: quite the paradox).  The night finished with the Jam Session in another house in the village which could only be described as the most “hippy” thing I did all week: pick up any instrument – from the didgeridoo, to the triangle, to the kazoo – and play it, continuously, for a very long time.

Day four: What was supposed to be a rather quite journey with Ms. A to the Almeria nursery to pick up deadly date palms turned into an all morning excursion of nearly running out of gas, getting lost, and then wandering the botanical gardens with one of the most helpful Spanish women I’ve ever met.  In the afternoon I helped unload the plants from the full van to various parts of the property before heading off to yoga at the Sorbas community center.  I should have known better, for all my other time witnessing yoga in Spain that it would probably leave a lot to be desired, but it gave me a chance to see a corner of Sorbas and a breathtaking sunset over the valley.  Finally, after cleaning up the dinner dishes as fast as humanly possible (my chore for the day), I took my first speed shower, managed to keep my hair dry, and rushed into bed before the residual heat wore off.

Day five: Another communal work day, this time cleaning up a SDT property up the hill a bit.  It was obvious that this must have become SDT’s secret closet of junk, and I was surprised to find out that the property was actually in use by the staff.  On the way back I picked prickly pear fruit for use in that night’s dinner which turned out interesting, to say the least (my Chumba sauce was great – I was more skeptical over the potato-spaghetti type creation, and the reappearance of curried porridge that ended up on everyone’s plates).  The night ended with an interested and tense conversation about racial jokes and stereotypes between me, Ms. F, and Mr. Ma in the kitchen.  Even in a place like SDT, radically different opinions do exist.

Day six: Spent the morning on house clean up (sharing the chore with Sra. P, don’t know how I, or anyone else, could have possibly done it by themselves).  I washed the towels in the retrofitted washing machine, churning it with the bicycle pedals attached to the back.  After lunch I picked flowers around the property and arranged them in recycled jars to welcome the guests that would be arriving for the weekend’s permaculture course, then picked more prickly pear fruit for Sra. A’s bread and jam session the next day.  After failing at making vegan cookies for the course (I’m convinced just one or two eggs and a bit more of the rationed sugar would have solved everything, not to mention a calibrated oven) I attempted to wash my hair and realized how easy it actually was to end up with dreads in a place like this – between the natural oils and the hard water, I was halfway there in less than a week.

Day seven: Took my time getting out of bed, and enjoyed the special crepes prepared for the volunteers and the guests.  I peeled the basket full of prickly pear from the day before and joined Sra. A and her one other student for her course.  I was a little bummed when she combined the fruit and butternut squash to create a singular jam, but was pleasantly please with the results and eager that I got to take one with me for the road.  I had to catch my cab to Sorbas before that day’s late lunch, but had the opportunity to say goodbye to most of the people that left the biggest impression on me.  Well, all but Mr. A, whom I assume was caught up screwing wheels from the chair to his pottery wheel project.

Mailboxes for Los Molinos

I made all my bus connections by the grace of God and the help of a few kind people and arrived at home less than 5 hours after leaving SDT that afternoon.  Without even checking my email first, I jumped into the shower for the most rewarding 15 minutes of the last week. 

I’m so happy I spent my week at SDT and will go back (during a warmer season) if I have the opportunity later.  I liked people and was niether bothered by the rustic-ness of the property nor the toilets.  I would whole-heartedly recommend anyone to participate and witness the good things and people that are hidden away in the Los Molinos pueblo.

Admittedly, I have mixed feelings about the project and what is actually being accomplished at SDT: at moments it felt like a wash of big ideas but less drive.  Piles of junk that were clearly intended for something, someday just seemed to result in more trash that wasn’t being counted for what it really was.  Nestle products weren’t allowed, but iPods and laptops were abound.  Yes, we all must pick our battles, but the message should stay consistent. 

Gotta go? Compost toilet

If SDT is meant to demonstrate to others how to live sustainably, I suppose it did.  But I can’t say it did so in a way desirable to most.  I personally believe that individuals and families can live in a sustainable manner that doesn’t involve cold showers or refraining from meat.  Undeniable it takes a lot of hard work and change of habits, and all people will draw the line of change in different places most comfortable for them.  But I can honestly say that being slightly out of my comfort zone last week made it all the more obvious how rewarding it could be.  Just as long as I never eat curried leftover porridge again.