The Plantation Diaries

Heading North

I am heading to San Francisco in the morning, and it feels a little like Christmas. Don Beto, Vigil, and I are leaving at 5am for the airport. Vigil asked to ride along as he has never seen an airplane before. I am meeting with several coffee and cacao companies next week. Keep your fingers crossed everyone. La Finca will have 15,000 pounds of coffee this December and would love to send it up North so everyone can try it. Will send updates when I can.

Animals Gone Amok

The creatures at La Finca are in a state of delirious abandonment. Perhaps it is the onset of the rain that has brought everyone to life again after six months without water.

The dogs have gone a little mad. Nuve is pregnant and Choco is in heat. Fortuna, the father protectively hovers around Nuve and has taken a distinct disliking to Bruno, our newcomer. Bruno is smitten with Choco, and Fortuna having been the only male until now, is beside himself with jealousy. Fortuna is a small long-haired scruffy mutt with intimidating fangs that he has been displaying continuously these past four days. Sunday morning, I was bolted out of bed by all the dogs in a state of vicious uproar. Bruno and Choco were love-locked for lack of a better term, and Fortuna was livid. Fortuna kept nipping at Bruno driving him in circles with Choco helpless to free herself. Evers and Vigil finally managed to break up the ball of fur, and tied each of them to a separate tree. All through the night, there was constant rabble-rousing and by 2am, we were all exhausted. Evers finally got up and shoved Bruno into my room so we could get some sleep. Today, it has been much the same with all the dogs nipping and provoking each other. They are in a state and I will be glad when it is over. Nuve is due in ten days, and by the looks of it, Choco isn't far behind.

This evening, Evers brought Nino back from the fields and tied him to a mango tree to feed on some fresh bamboo shoots. My uncle and my friend, Will from the Peace Corp were visiting with me when we heard a commotion coming from the mango tree. Nino had an unexpected guest. We still don't know where she came from, but a young filly showed up on the scene to pay Nino a call. She is quite beautiful with a white diamond on her forehead. Nino could not have more surprised and immediately lost interest in his bamboo shoots. Things were getting a little feisty when Bruno decided to barge in, for what reasons, we can't figure out. Bruno proceeded to bark and growl at the new pair as though his life depended on it. Perhaps Bruno thought he was protecting Nino from a shady female who didn't have a proper invitation. So now both horses are hysterical and trying their best to kick Bruno who managed to weave his way in and out between their legs. Vigil came to the rescue, captured Bruno and locked him up in the house.

Evers escorted Nino and his new love to a nearby field in back of the house. When I asked Evers a short while later how the horses were doing, he said they were making babies.

There has also been an influx of insects with the higher humidity and rain. No mosquitoes as of yet. They come later, around September and August. This evening as I was walking to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, I saw a black beetle speckled in yellow dots with horns and feathery antennae. It was three inches in length and he was just hovering some two feet off the ground in the living room. He began sashaying around the room like an alien spaceship, and then promptly crashed to the floor landing upside down. In a struggle to right himself, I helped him along with a wooden spoon and dusting himself off, he took flight and fled through the window.

The ants have sprouted wings and we are inundated with butterflies. I dare not turn on a lamp, for as much as I have bug-proofed the house, hundreds of flying creatures find their way to the light. I have one of those electric zapping tennis rackets which I bought at a local market a few months ago. It has become so popular with the guys, that they fight over it in the evenings and I am forever buying batteries. There are always small lizards and bright green geckos around the finca, but it seems like they have all grown up overnight, and decided to come out from their hiding places. Probably because there are so many insects to choose from. They bask on rocks and do not have to make much of an effort to find their next meal. They simply hold out their tongue and some poor unsuspecting little insect will make the fatal mistake of thinking it a rest stop.

Late Sunday morning, I was moving a stack of books that were sitting on the floor. As I was placing the books on a shelf, I saw something black come from out the pages. Before I could react, I felt the bite and then saw the scorpion. I jumped and screamed which sent Evers running in the room with his machete prepared to defend me against all threats. He found the scorpion, squashed it with his shoe and asked if I felt funny. I knew my finger hurt like crazy, was going numb, and I felt my heart racing. Wondering if I might pass out, I sat down and then realized that it was only a case of mild hyperventilation brought on by my fear of being bitten by a scorpion. I finally took a peek at my finger and there was nothing to be seen, no bite mark or swelling. I took a few aspirin and decided to wait it out. My hand was numb for several hours and by afternoon, I was fine.

I am beginning to wonder if the bat sonar devices are responsible for causing the animals to behave so erratically. More than likely, it is this season of renewal that has created such elated turmoil.

The Hacienda

Several people have asked about the hacienda. A few have visited and seemed charmed by its age and history. My great grandfather built the house in 1874 with lumber from the finca. The interior walls are covered with 16" wide cedar planks running twelve feet in length from floor to ceiling. The ceiling is also lined with cedar. It is like living inside a tree. When I finally had the electricity hooked up and moved to the house, the walls were nothing short of a disaster. The bats had covered the walls in guano, and I was not sure if they could be salvaged. I bought electric sanders and stacks of sandpaper. The boys worked for weeks and eventually the natural beauty of the wood came through again. We varnished it with a clear protective coat, and I believe it must look as wonderful as the time my great grandfather lived here.

 

The veranda which is fifteen feet deep and runs around three sides of the house, used to have a picket fence. There were only a few sections left when I arrived. My first year here, a large Madrone tree that was in danger of falling off a cliff, needed to be chopped down. I had it cut into planks which have been drying these past few years. Jose, one of the local carpenters, has been planing the wood into pickets for a new fence. Every few weeks I pay him a visit, load up the truck with whatever he has finished, and bring it home. He charges .25 per picket. By July, we should be ready to start erecting the new fence.

The house is a large square with a corridor dissecting the middle, and seven large rooms. My great grandfather had a penchant for doors as there are 36 in the house. The corridor alone has 15. They are tall with antique hinges and bolts. The windows are similar with small peep-hole windows that open and close. None of the windows have glass. The climate here dictates the need for fresh breezes and air conditioning is a luxury these old finca houses could never acquire. It would be nearly impossible to seal up such a house. I have had screens made to keep the bugs out, and fans run during mid-day when the heat is in tolerable. At night, the doors and windows are shut tight with large bamboo bars placed horizontally into iron brackets.

There is still so much to be done, but considering there has been a 20 year gap when anyone lived here, we have come a long way. Next on the list...a shower with hot water.

Fireflies

The fireflies are out tonight for the first time. It is winter here in El Salvador, and I am used to seeing these masters of illumination in the summer when in the states. The Northern winds are gusting and they are helpless to control their flight as they get knocked about in the air. They have taken refuge on the ground and there are hundreds of twinkling lights. One could imagine the stars have come for a visit.

Two farmers just came by to tell us that another tree is on fire and one of the fields near the coffee is in flames. It was struck by lightening this afternoon and only now ignited. Evers, Vigil, and the farmers ran off to see what they can do. There is a storm approaching, but it may be hours yet before the rains fall.

The boys have padlocked me in the house. Vigil and Evers are paid extra wages to sleep here in the house at night so I am never alone. They spent a good five minutes debating what to do about the fire as they felt they should both go, but didn't want to leave me by myself. I finally told them to go ahead. The fire was more important, and I didn't think anyone would bother with me in this windstorm. They were not satisfied until they bolted every door and window and tied a dog to each entrance. I am amused and comforted.

Firefly image: Gail Shumway

 

Cake

 

In keeping with my tradition of buying cakes for the employees on their birthday, Carlito had his turn today. His birthday was actually in April and it had slipped by me. I happened to run across my birthday list which I should keep taped to the wall instead of letting it become buried in a stack of papers. We don't sing, but they make a wish. Carlito asked for several more years of good health and the future of the finca to remain bright.

This afternoon when I went to town to buy the cake and run a few other errands, I stopped by some friends for a quick visit. I caught up on local news over a cup of coffee and then told them I needed to run to pick up a cake. When I told them why I was buying a cake, they gave me a look and said, "Why bother? They don't care about things like that." I smiled, left, headed straight to the bakery to buy my cake, along with a box of pastries, ice cream, and four large bottles of soda.

Later when Juana and I were setting up the table, I asked her if having a cake made any difference to them. She replied that it was very special as they could not afford to buy one themselves. She herself had never bought a cake before. My friends comment continues to bother me. She is not the first to say that I am too nice to my employees. Everyone says they will take advantage of me the minute my back is turned. To some extent, I expect the pocketed stash of a few bananas or coconuts, and in my mind, they have earned it. After Ever's phone caper, I don't think anyone wants to be the center of an embarrassing situation like he experienced. So we will continue to celebrate birthdays, buy cakes, and make wishes here on the finca.

Mayors and Chiefs

The new mayor of Tecapan officially took office last Sunday. The town celebrated with marching bands, speeches, and live music that went on until the small hours of the morning. The new treasurer took the podium to inform the town of their financial position. Don Herbert, the previous mayor, has left the town $20,000 in debt with unpaid electric, garbage, and water bills. The town's bank account is zero. Don Herbert who built a new home during his time in office, has vanished. He is rumored to have fled to Canada.

At the moment, the town reminds me of one of those marble maze games I remember as a child. The wooden box with knobs on the sides that tilt the board surface, as you attempt to move a metal ball through a maze from one end to the other. The little metal ball always seems to fall through the holes and you have to begin again. Don Herbert decided before he left office, to dig up 50% of the cobblestone streets and have them paved. It has been going on for nearly three months in a willy-nilly sort of fashion. The crews tear up one block and then move to another section three blocks away the following day. The streets are left with giant craters and rocks strewn about without cones or signs to warn of hazards. The streets that have been paved simply come to an end at any given intersection. They are 7 inches higher than ground level with bent re-bar protruding upwards. I am surprised I haven't punctured a tire yet. They are about 60% done, but entering and leaving town changes every morning. I never know which streets are open, and spend a great deal of time in reverse finding my way through the maze.

Juan Carlos and Vigil are making progress with the first of two rock pilas. With the two new pilas and  repair of an existing cement pila, we will have an additional 8,000 gallons of water when dry season comes. Someday, I would love to see a lake here, stocked with fish and a few ducks and geese. For now, we build pilas.

A few months ago, I posted a blog about the day the chief of police paid me a visit. He has been a difficult man to befriend as he was loyal to the original majordomo that I fired when I first came here. He only saw that I had deprived an old man of his income. He didn't know that Carlos had been stealing, vandalizing the crops, and making death threats against me. It was a difficult time when I found myself in court having been here only a few months, could not understand the language, and all sympathies from the labor court, were with the worker. I settled with Carlos for $1,500 and he is not allowed to set foot on the property. He lives across the street from the main square. We pass each other everyday without acknowledgment, but I feel him staring at my backside regardless. Everyone says his wife, Maria is a witch who spends her time casting spells on me.

During this period, the chief ignored my fears of threats, or perhaps, he just didn't care. My arrival in town had caused a stir, and not everyone was happy about it. In the end, I called my friends at the American Embassy. They said that as I had planted 4,000 trees of cacao, I qualified as a trade entity, entitled to protection. They told me to hang on and they would send help. The next day, a unit of the rural military police pulled into town all dressed in black armed from head to toe. This wasn't working in my favor towards good neighborly relations, but at least I felt safe. They stayed for four days, rattled a few cages and let people know that I was not here on my own. Any more trouble and they would be back.

So it has been a long road to convince the local chief of police that my intentions are to help the community by providing jobs and helping out when I can. When I initially wrote about the chief, I described him in a slightly less-than-flattering manner as I have always been a little fearful of him. Who would have imagined that he would see the blog in such small place like this, let alone understand it in English?

He drove up the finca last week and said he heard that I had posted his photo on the Internet. Roman who owns the Esso gas station is an acquaintance of mine, and had told the chief about my blog. The chief sat himself down and pointed at my computer screen demanding to see his picture. I found his post and showed him his photo. When he asked what I had written, I told him it was all good. He wanted it translated to Spanish and I said I would have my uncle get him a translated copy. He wasn't satisfied and kept insisting I change it into Spanish. I managed to distract him by printing out several copies of his photo to take home. As soon as he left, I did a little delete-edit-save-repost. It was a good lesson knowing that the blog has gone local. It was the last thing I worried about, but in hindsight, probably the most important.

This morning, the men prepared more fertilizer for the coffee. I doubled-checked to make sure they were using the new organic products. They were able to cover a few manzanas before the rains started around 10am when I saw them running to the shed to take cover. After 20 minutes, I noticed they were still sitting around with no particular objective other than to wait out the rain. I called Don Beto over and told him the men could clean more corn under the veranda while it was raining, as they still had two hours to go until lunch. He gave me one of those looks that said he wished he had thought of it first instead of my having to say it, and quickly put the guys to work.

After lunch when the rains stopped, half the men went back to fertilizing while Carlito and Mario cleaned the road leading up to the house. Aside from the ever-present coconut palms, branches, and fallen fruit, they know I hate to see any garbage on the ground. They are much better at keeping up with it, yet I am still puzzled. This afternoon, I was walking through the coffee groves and on the ground I found one shoe, several empty chip bags, a plastic soda bottle, a pair of pants, a hairbrush, and a magazine. How does this stuff get here? Why? I'm sure they won't be too happy with me tomorrow when I come back from town with a few dozen trash bags. I shall sweeten the task with a big cake to celebrate Carlito's birthday which is tomorrow. Cake in one hand, bags in the other.

Breathing Rain

Petrichor is the scent of rain. It is an oil disbursed by plants immediately before or after rainfall. The oils are absorbed by rocks and soil, and then released into the air. In parts of the world where there are long dry seasons such as here in El Salvador, rain is greeted with a sense of euphoria. An intoxicating feeling of well-being descends on everyone with the firm belief, that life will be less toilsome.

There were dark clouds above us this morning and the power went out half a dozen times throwing the house into darkness. I stood outside breathing in the air already heavy with moisture and cleansed my mind of all thoughts. Inhaling inward, my nostrils opening wide, my lungs taking it all and wanting more, I too, felt that well-being wash over me.

The men were busy moving barrels and tanks from one spout to another in anticipation of the rain. They prepared their backpack sprayers to fertilize the coffee this morning knowing they might not make much progress. Juan Carlos and Vigil were busy digging the new water pond, moving rocks and boulders to pour a foundation. Juana rushed to bring in the wash hanging on the line in back of the house. Fresh white shirts that will take days to dry when the air is this heavy. Bruno climbed on top of my bed attempting to find a good place to nap and wait out the storm. I swatted him with pillow and told him I had my limits.

The skies broke just before noon preceded by rolling thunder that shook the house and turned the sky black. The lights flickered and went out once more, while I lit candles that I had retrieved from the kitchen. Everyone came running from the fields trying to beat the first drops which never came. Instead, sheets of rain came pouring down and within minutes, the hacienda became an island. The men despite my protests ran into the rain to adjust wayward spouts so we might collect every drop of water possible. I made note to try and find big yellow rain slickers for them.

Juana and I fetched all the towels I had in the house for the men when they returned. I told Juana to light a fire in the outdoor stove on the back veranda and make coffee. The men didn't seem to mind that they were wet, cold, and had a long walk home in the rain. They know, that almost overnight, the finca will have renewed itself and the plants will march towards the sky. Juana and Evers clapped as now they did not have to water the endless tomatoes and peppers I have planted which takes them several hours in the morning. Beto sighed, as it would not be long before he did not have to cart a dozen empty barrels into town every few days to supply my thirsty garden.

I am flying home to San Francisco next week, and like last time, the men were worried if I was going to return. I reassured them I would come back and told them I was hoping to meet with some people who might buy our coffee this December. I also told them that as much as I love being here, I am a little homesick. There are special people I want to see and spend time with. Juana and the men are my surrogate family, but it is not the same. I can't go around hugging and kissing them like I can with my family and friends. I think I am in need of some hugs. Some time where I can just be part of the flock and not the one in charge.

Finca Short-takes

Today was a quiet day. It is, "Worker's Day," in El Salvador. The equivalent of Labor day. The party which the workers were going to have has been post-phoned until next week. Everyone decided they would rather have the day off at home. I can't blame them. So would I.

The chickens and Don Pedro are gone. They are probably being enjoyed in several chicken stews throughout town at this moment. Juana and Vigil gathered them up yesterday which is no easy task. Vigil chased them around the coop and Juana tied their feet with twine before piling then in a basket. She marched off to town and proudly came back with $30. The rabbits are next.

Flor de Izote has been in bloom all over the finca this month, and with it, brings a steady stream of local costumers visiting the finca. Flor de Izote is the national flower of El Salvador. From the Yucca family, it is a beautiful conical mass of white flowers perched high atop spiky green trees. It seems to be a delicacy, chopped and blended with scrambled eggs. Juana prepared it one day, but it was so overly salted, I passed it on to the dogs when she wasn't looking. Today, there were people non-stop coming to buy Flor de Izote. I thought for sure, there couldn't possibly be one more flower, but Evers always managed to find one. It means scaling the trees which are covered in thick piercing thorns and then a swift cut with the machete. At the end of the day, Evers handed over $24 at $1 per stalk. Between harvesting flowers, the boys were also busy selling bananas, avocados, and some medicinal plant that is good for chicken pox. There has been an outbreak at the local school, so quite a few mothers were here today anxious to make a poultice for their youngsters.

I was gone for a few days up in the capital to attend meetings for the cacao association, and had to rush back yesterday afternoon to pay the men a day early since today was a holiday. When I pulled up, there were small bonfires everywhere and a swirl of activity was in progress. I had mentioned to Don Beto, that we might be expecting visitors this week, so he had corralled the boys into a cleaning frenzy.When I emerged from the truck, they all wanted to show me what they had done. Vigil had build beds around the wild pepper plants, Mario had raked the entire entrance area, Juana had cleaned the back coffee field and organized the tool shed, Carlito had fed all the tomatoes and pruned the palms, Evers had planted more hot peppers and was building the legs for my coffee table, and Beto had made sure that the finca's corn fields were prepped and ready for planting. I spent a good forty minutes gushing and praising with sincere gratitude. They didn't have to do it, but they did.

Monday is going to be a full day, and I've lost track already. Juan Carlos, a new tradesman is going to start building one of two new pila's (water tanks) with stone and cement. There is an endless supply of rocks around the finca, and I can't think of a better way to start using them. He told me I need to buy re-bar, 20 sacks of cement, and a truckload of sand. The boys will begin to fertilize the coffee and cacao on Monday with a new organic product that Don Remberto is bringing by. The men spray the trees wearing a tank on their back with a nozzle attached. Beto told me I need to replace the nozzles and tubing. A tanker truck is also arriving on Monday to deliver water for the large tank as Beto said the fertilizing will require a substantial amount of water. I asked Beto what happened to his predictions of rain today according to the moon. He pointed up to the heavens and said it was in God's hands.

While I was in the capital, I bought 2 gallons of a pale yellow paint for the kitchen. I was making great progress this morning when for some reason, my foot missed a rung on the ladder on my way down while carrying the paint bucket. I came crashing down and fell right into a case of cups, glasses, and ceramic bowls. The bucket flew up in the air and of course, flung paint in every direction. Vigil, Evers, and all four dogs ran into the kitchen. After making sure I was okay, I don't think I have ever seen them laugh so hard. I was covered in paint from head to toe. One yellow gringa girl on the floor with her paintbrush still in hand. Vigil helped me up, but then headed back outside to finish his lunch. After all, this was worker's day and I guess he didn't feel compelled to help me clean up. Evers stuck with me and for the next hour, we scooped up paint, and wiped surfaces. I lost 8 coffee mugs, 6 plates, and four of my mother's favorite mixing bowls. We won't tell her. I painted on for another two hours and called it a day. The kitchen is in total disarray and I can hear Juana sighing now when she arrives in the morning. My back has a slight kink that I hope will be gone by morning.

Marquis has sent me three high-frequency sonar devices that he guarantees will get rid of the bats and other small animals which are still making themselves at home up in the attic. Late at night I can hear the flapping of wings sailing in the air. Being fruit bats, they continue to bring their tasty little meals inside. Hanging upside down, they nibble away at the fruit and then spit the pits which land on the attic floor like a cannonball. They still manage to bolt me upright when I am in bed asleep. I raise my hand up in the air and point to the ceiling telling my batty friends their nice little B & B is about to close permanently.

It all seems a little morbid, the thought of having bats flying about right above your head, separated by a thin wood ceiling. We have tried every remedy at one time or another since I have been on this mission to get rid of them. Yes, garlic, hot chili oil, flood lights, reflectors, and mesh. They are too smart and can find their way in the smallest crevice. I have tolerated them so far with the hopes that this newest attempt will be the last. We share a sort of unwilling cohabitation, the bats and I. When I first opened up the hacienda, they were residing in the house as well as the attic. Upon opening the door, hundreds of them flew over and around my head. I screamed that day and rented a house in town instead. Apparently, I am not alone. I have a several friends who are waiting to hear the results of the sonar devices. Bats are a common problem here in old homes. Tomorrow, Evers and Mario are going up to the attic and install them. I am a little concerned as the instructions indicate an increase of activity at the beginning. I might need earplugs for the next few days until everyone clears out. The instructions also mention to keep all your doors and windows closed as the animals may wander. Wander where.....