Visiting from England

My journey draws from a group of islands on the far side of the Atlantic, a name within them currently England. Given by the people who have migrated and lived in that place for hundreds of years. I’ve heard it said that the country known as Great Britain is one of the most colonized pieces of land in history – a tricky, controversial claim, with the harm and trauma of our colonial past, all the things my ancestors have done across the planet. But if this statement is true, it could create at least some understanding for the way a lot of people from my home live, think, behave. Sometimes I wonder at the privileged educated folk I grew up with – that they simply continue on, living as their parents did, without seeming to question anything or care for the people beyond their circle. I don’t like to make assumptions about anything or anyone, yet that is the impression, growing since I was an undergraduate.

However, there is so much possibility and beauty in the United Kingdom. In recent years there has been a strong resurgence in earth-centred care and food growing. So many people from teenager through twenties, thirties, forties feel a call from the soil and from the seeds – they don’t want a desk-based office job, they want to go back to the land. They want to farm, keep bees, build their own homes. Live in true community. Become self-sufficient, use less energy and remember ways to use their hands, to re-learn the beautiful crafts and skills of old.

I feel lucky to be part of that movement, to have found my way into belonging with these people. All of this is a large part of my path to Finca Mālama. There are many reasons that contributed to my coming here. One of the key attractions was its location down a stony dirt road. A true sense of rural, away from the busyness and tourism of Costa Rica. I’ve wanted to travel to central America for years, and my intention in coming here is to engage with locals, with the people deeply of that place. I’ve loved getting to know Jose who works in the garden, with his cheeky smile and spiralling Spanish. I’ve also enjoyed simply walking along the lane, waving and saying hello to neighbours in their homes, chatting to a woman as she took a jug of something milk-based (I didn’t fully understand what, but a Christmas speciality) to her daughter a few houses away.

I’ve also loved the birds here. They are my heart and I adore their songs, calls and colours. There are a lot on the land of Finca Mālama, from toucans to hawks with long forked tails to motmots. And many others I don’t know the name of. They’re a strong part of why I wanted to come, and I feel I’ve seen more birds here on the land and ambling along the road than on guided tours in national parks. The birds are something I’ll take with me. Their sweet sounds (tuneful and sometimes shrieky) waking me up with the sunrise, and flashes of red and turquoise through the medicine garden.

I’ll also carry forwards the toad that knocked on my mosquito-screen door one night, an appreciation of how much time and care it takes to process arrowroot into powder and yucca into flour and hibiscus into tea, and the generosity of those known as ticos (local Costa Rican people). Tiffany’s delicious dinners are something to remember, as is Colin’s patient guidance. It was lovely to meet Lola, and to get to spend two weeks with Mio and Seiya, a couple from Japan. They are amazing people and I feel blessed to have crossed paths with them, learning from their care and serenity, and laughing between translations of Japanese, Spanish and English. Finally, what will settle into memory of Finca Mālama is the sense of peace in this place. From the river, the trees, the energy coming off the hills in the distance, towards Panama. It has soaked in as I head off down that rocky lane to my next step along the way.

Signed,Tasha