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August 7, 2016January 19, 2019

Herstory: Ella Puede Sembrar/She Can Sow

Written by Fidgit

The ‘Herstory: She Can’ series profiles women who pursue their passions. Each have stepped up with courage, a message, and a willingness to share her own odyssey. This retelling is based on annotations of conversations during a week in Ale’s home in Futaleufu.

La serie “Su Historia: ella puede”, hace el perfil de mujeres que persiguen sus pasiones. Cada una de ellas ha intensificado con valor, un mensaje, y la voluntad de compartir su propia odisea.  Este recuento se basa en las anotaciones de las conversaciones durante una semana en la casa de Ale en Futaleufú.

Haz clic aquí para leer en español


Ale’s eyes glow as she raps on the alcayota (black-seed or cidra) squash, checking its ripeness. Not yet; it is returned to the kitchen windowsill. Fernanda is visiting, teaching a local restaurant  about heirloom seeds. One at a time she empties packets of seeds onto the dining room table. They put their heads together, leaning in, handling it with the giddiness and covetousness of little girls over a sticker collection.

 

Table spread
Alcayota squash, dried sunflower and seeds, and an assortment of heirloom tomatoes

“I grew up in a home of gardening. My dad always loved planting. When I was little he gave us each a corner of the garden to plant for ourselves. I started with easy flowers: Ilusiónes (baby’s-breath) and reinas luisa (lemon beebrush).“

AleIt is a sunny day as we head back from an Intercultural Convention at the Casa de la Cultura in Futaleufu. “My grandmother was the true fanatic. She had a huge garden with narrow paths winding between the plants.” Her recollection is visible, “I remember wandering between them when I was very little, the plants were above my head.”

It seems Ale has always had a green thumb, now she focuses on edible plants and a deep respect for natural foods pervades her life. Her kitchen is hung with drying herbs. The family sell homemade cheese, made by a cousin. Each fall they make chicha, a typical South American drink fermented, in this case, from apples. As I write this, she and her mother are making jam.

She moved to Futaleufu, the childhood home of her husband, because its earth is more fertile than that found further south. “Here we eat what grows here; it is the way it should be.” There is a constant flow of people through the front door. Folks dropping by asking after her home-made Dulce de Leche, trading fresh caught fish, cheese, etc.

Of the culture, she explains, “should a woman invite you to see her huerta, it is a great honor.” The word huerta encapsulates someone’s growing land. It may be an outdoor plot, a invernadero (green house), or both. “The huerta will be on the side of a house or behind it, so you must be invited to go into it.”

ALe us

The invitation is also a means of exchange,  “if she is growing something you do not have, she may give you some seeds or a plant. This is how many of our native plants have been kept alive.”

“It is more than just the planting or the food, it is growing it. Plants hold memories for me, a smell. I have a plant that was a cutting from one of my grandmother’s and every time I see it, every time it blooms, I think of her.”

“Someday I will have a garden like my grandmother’s. It is a goal of mine.” That someday her own grandchildren may run and play amidst plants which grow  above their heads.

 


Su historia: Ella puede sembrar

Escrito por Fidgit

Traducción por Henry Tovar

Los ojos de Ale brillan mientras agarra la alcayota (semillas negras o cidra) y la aprieta, comprobando su madurez. Aun no; se devuelve a la ventana de la cocina. Fernanda se encuentra de visita, enseñando en un restaurante local acerca de la herencia de las semillas. Vacía sus bolsillos de las semillas uno a la vez sobre la mesa del comedor. Ellos pones sus cabezas juntas, inclinándose, la manipulación con el vértigo y la codicia de las niñas a través de una colección de cromos.

Table spread
Calabazas alcayota, girasol y semillas secas, y una variedad de herencia de tomates

“Crecí en una casa de jardinería, mi padre siempre amó sembrar cuando era pequeña nos dio a cada uno un rincón del jardín para plantar por nosotros mismos, empecé con flores fáciles: Ilusiones y Reinas luisa.”

AleEn un día soleado mientras nos dirigíamos de nuevo a partir de un convenio intercultural en la Casa de la  Cultura de Futaleufú. “Mi abuela era la verdadera fanática. Tenía un enorme jardín con caminos estrechos sinuosos entre las plantas.” Su recuerdo es visible, “recuerdo vagando entre ellos cuando yo era muy pequeña, las plantas estaban por encima de mi cabeza.”

Parece que Ale siempre ha tenido un pulgar verde, ahora se centra en las plantas comestibles y un profundo respeto por los alimentos naturales impregna su vida. Su cocina está colgando con secado de hierbas. La familia vende queso casero, hecho por un primo. Cada otoño hacen chicha, una bebida típica fermentada  de América del Sur, en este caso, a partir de manzanas. Mientras escribo esto, ella y su madre están haciendo mermelada.

Se mudó a Futaleufú, a la casa de infancia de su marido, porque su tierra es más fértil que la que encontraron más al sur. “Aquí comemos lo que crece aquí, es la manera que debe ser.” Hay un flujo constante de personas a través de la puerta principal. La gente cae preguntando por su de dulce de leche de fabricación cacera, el comercio  de pescado fresco, queso, etc.

De la cultura, explica, “una mujer debe invitarle a ver su huerta, que es un gran honor.” La palabra huerta encapsula la tierra de alguien que usa para sembrar.  Puede ser un terreno al aire libre, un invernadero o ambos. “La Huerta estará en el lado de la casa o detrás de ella. Por lo que debe ser invitado a entrar en ella.”

ALe us

La invitación es también un medio de intercambio, “si ella está cosechando algo que no tiene, se le puede dar algunas semillas o una planta. Así es como muchas de nuestras plantas nativas se han mantenido con vida.”

“Es algo más que las siembra  o la comida, está creciendo por sí misma, las plantas contienen recuerdos para mi, un olor. Tengo una planta que era un corte de una de mi abuela y cada vez que la veo, cada vez que florece, pienso en ella.”

“Algún día voy a tener un jardín como mi abuela. Es una de mis metas.” Que algún día sus propios nietos puedan correr y jugar en medio de las plantas que crecen  por encima de sus cabezas.

 

Posted in Her Odyssey, Herstory
Tagged Casa de la Cultura, Futaleufu, heirloom seeds, native plants, semillas
1 Comment
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Comments (1)

  • Trouble August 9, 2016 at 6:44 pm Reply

    These stories are inspiring.
    Thank you for being you and pursuing and fufulling that existence..
    Of being inspiring…

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When you practice the bell of mindfulness, you breathe in, and you listen deeply to the sound of the bell, and you say, "Listen, listen." Then you breathe out and you say, "This wonderful sound brings me back to my true home. Our true home is something we all want to go back to. Some of us feel we don't have a home.

Does a wave have a home? When a wave looks deeply into herself, she will realize the presence of all the other waves. When we are mindful, fully living each moment of our daily lives, we may realize that everyone and everything around us is our home.

Isn't it true that the air we breathe is our home, that the blue sky, the rivers, the mountains, the people around us, the trees, and the animals are our home? 

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Sometimes we have a feeling of alienation. We feel lonely and as if we are cut off from everything. We have been a wanderer and have tried hard but have never been able to reach our true home. However, we all have a home, and this is our practice, the practice of going home.

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