[Scpg] An Invitation to Visit Gaviotas in November 2010
Wesley Roe and Santa Barbara Permaculture Network
lakinroe at silcom.com
Sun Aug 22 08:35:35 PDT 2010
An Invitation to Visit Gaviotas in November 2010
Please post this on your own sites, lists, etc. - Thank you!
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=659348860625601851#
So far, few outsiders have managed to visit this
special place. But public order is making a
comeback in the region, and this past March, a
group of 30 people (including a 1-year old baby
girl!) traveled all the way to Colombia's eastern
plains to visit this unique community
http://www.friendsofgaviotas.org/Friends_of_Gaviotas/Home.html
The visit was a success, and the village now
wishes to invite another 40 people for a fully
hosted day visit. In addition, Gaviotas founder
Paolo Lugari is personally inviting you to spend
2 additional days in conversation with him and
other Gaviotans in and around the Gaviotas office
in Bogotá.
During the 8-month rainy season the roads turn
into mud and the Gaviotas landing strip is
flooded - this November is your chance to go
while it is dry!
The regular price for 3 days of hosted events,
including a chartered flight from Bogotá, meals,
tours and talks is $995 (US dollars). To make
sure we fill up all the spaces, we are offering a
combination of early-registration discounts and
group discounts (2 or more people signing up at
once) that together can lower your price to as
little as $495 (see pull-down price menu below).
Your payment will support numerous current
initiatives at Gaviotas (including
reforestation). You will make personal
connections that may lead to further involvement
and new friendships! Sorry, but we have no
scholarship funds available at this time.
The 3 consecutive days of activities will take
place during the last full week of November
(Thanksgiving week in the USA). As a safety
precaution, there will be no overland travel and
no overnights at Gaviotas. You are encouraged to
arrive in Bogotá on Sunday night at the latest
(21-NOV) and depart on Saturday at the earliest
(27-NOV) to allow for extra time with your new
friends. Suggestions for meaningful optional
activities will be provided.
If you cannot commit the 6 days above, please
coordinate with us, to make sure you won't miss
the key event of the trip - the day visit to
Gaviotas itself.
You must make your own arrangements for travel
from your home country to Bogotá and back, as
well as for your overnight accommodations in
Bogotá. We will suggest a hotel (likely in
Bogotá's old town) where everybody could stay
together.
Sample U.S. round-trip airfares: $536 from Los
Angeles, $455 from NYC, $329 from Miami (check
out www.kayak.com).
We are offering a 2-month money-back guarantee -
no questions asked - in case you later change
your mind about participating. This way, you can
ensure your spot without any risk and lock in the
discounted early-registration rate by clicking
below. During the sign-up process on the PayPal
site, please click on 'Add special instructions
to merchant' and enter the names and email
addresses of each person you are signing up.
Once we have a solid list of participants, we
will share email addresses ahead of time, so
people can introduce themselves to the group and
coordinate travel and extra days in Colombia.
Happy travels! - - - - - Robert (trip coordinator at Friends of Gaviotas)
From the Lonely Planet's 2010 edition:
Colombia's back. After decades of civil conflict,
Colombia is now safe to visit and travelers are
discovering what they've been missing. The
diversity of the country may astonish you. Modern
cities with skyscrapers and nightclubs? Check.
Gorgeous Caribbean beaches? Check. Jungle walks
and Amazon safaris? Check. Colonial cities,
archaeological ruins, high-mountain trekking,
whalewatching, coffee plantations, scuba diving,
surfing, the list goes on.
Read more at: http://www.lonelyplanet.com/colombia
Update :: Gaviotas Still Dreaming and Growing
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by Catherine Bailey
posted Jul 07, 2009
Ten years ago in YES!
We featured the story of Gaviotas, a village of
more than 200 scientists, ecologists, students,
dreamers, and innovators located deep in the
heart of the Colombian llanos-an area of
virtually lifeless desert. Founder Paolo Lugari
explained, "They always put social experiments in
the easiest, most fertile places. We wanted the
hardest place." The pioneers of Gaviotas
transformed 20,000 acres into a thriving
community that sustained a wealth of flora and
fauna, offered medical aid to the region,
provided safety and education for young and old,
built relationships with the indigenous people,
and made its way toward self-sufficiency by
cashing in on its renewable crops.
Today
Kids help with tree planting, one part of the sustainable forestry cycle.
Photo courtesy www.friendsofgaviotas.org.
Though it has had its share of troubles, Gaviotas
is alive and well. The pine forest the Gaviotans
planted in the 1970s has created a lush ecosystem
that supports over 200 different kinds of plants
and animals-many more than there were a decade
ago.
In his postscript to the 10th anniversary edition
of his book, Gaviotas: A Village to Reinvent the
World, Alan Weisman writes, "Gaviotas [has]
stayed alive by becoming an agro-industrial
cooperative, and the industry part [means]
tractors, mulchers, plows, and disks as well as
motor scooters." The biodiesel grown on-site is
enough to power them all. The Gaviotans have
built a massive forest-fire prevention system
featuring steel lookout towers-manned 24 hours a
day-and a 65-foot-long, remote-controlled
zeppelin equipped with video cameras. Their
co-generating boiler produces heat to refine pine
resin while spinning a turbine that provides
electricity to the entire village.
The founder of the U.N.'s Zero Emissions Research
and Initiatives foundation, Gunter Pauli, has
been working with Lugari on expanding the
Gaviotas model to other parts of Colombia. With
the help of the community, they are making plans
to build Gaviotas II, a reforestation project
that would offset the equivalent of Japan's CO2
emissions.
Catherine Bailey wrote this article as part of
The New Economy, the Summer 2009 issue of YES!
Magazine. Catherine is a YES! editorial assistant.
Check out the YES! archive:
Gaviotas! Oasis of the Imagination
In the "big, wet desert" of los llanos, nothing
grows except a few nutrient-poor grasses. Paolo
Lugari said he could build a self-sufficient
society there-and make it sustainable.
http://www.yesmagazine.org/issues/rx-for-the-earth/842
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by Alan Weisman
posted Jun 30, 1998
In the "big, wet dessert" of los llanos, nothing
grows except a few nutrient-poor grasses.
Photo by Alan Weisman
As his Land Rover crawled across Colombia's huge
eastern plain, the vision gestating in Paolo
Lugari's subconscious involved his hunch that
someday the world would become so crowded that
humans would have to learn to live in the
planet's least desirable areas. Los llanos, he
had decided, were a perfect setting to design an
ideal civilization for the planet's
fastest-filling region: the tropics.
Later, he would tell everyone, "They always put
social experiments in the easiest, most fertile
places. We wanted the hardest place. We figured
if we could do it here, we could do it anywhere."
No one disagreed, but in the beginning, no one
held out much hope, either. The llanos were good
for little except inspiring llanero musicians to
write songs about how mournful life gets on an
endless prairie. Biologists believe that about
30,000 years earlier, this had been part of an
unbroken rain forest clear to the Amazon. Then,
climate change had created new patterns in the
predominant winds. The trade winds blew inland,
fanning lightning strikes into fires that burned
the jungle faster than the woodlands could
regenerate. A few trees and plants were able to
adapt, but for the most part, the jungle receded
south, where the winds diffused, leaving
short-cycle, nutrient-poor savanna grasses in its
stead. "It's just a big, wet desert out there,"
Paolo was told repeatedly.
"The only deserts," he would reply, "are deserts of the imagination."
Beginnings
Paolo Lugari passed his university exams without
ever attending class. A fervid orator, he'd won
competitions at Bogotá's Universidad Nacional,
and, on the strength of a single inspired
interview, he netted a scholarship from the
United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization
to study development in the Far East. Returning
to Colombia in 1965, he was hired by a commission
planning the future of the Chocó, a tropical
wilderness that stretched the length of
Colombia's Pacific coast. Today, the Chocó is one
of the world's largest remaining intact virgin
rain forests, inhabited by several
jungle-dwelling Indian communities who have lived
there for centuries.
Paolo's work had persuaded him that rain forests
and excess people were a foolish mix. But after
his uncle took him on an inspection flight of the
Orinocan llanos, he started having visions. In
South America alone, there were 250 million
hectares of fairly empty, well-drained savannas.
One day, he was convinced, they would be the only
place to put bursting human populations.
From 1967 to 1970, Paolo Lugari slipped off to
the llanos whenever his duties permitted. He went
through a dozen tires, frequently got lost,
waited days for ferries, collected medicinal
herbs with a Guahibo Indian shaman, camped on
river sandbars amid the rustling of mating
turtles, stayed in a friendly llanero's hut when
the chiggers drove him nuts, and contracted
malaria twice. ("Light cases. Just a lot of
chills," he assured his friends. "I bring
repellent now.")
On one trip to los llanos, Paolo and his brother
Patricio found a pair of long, concrete sheds
filled with weeds. These were former warehouses
of a road construction camp, now abandoned, that
would have been the midpoint of the failed
trans-llano highway.
"We're here," Paolo told his brother.
"Where?" replied Patricio, removing his driving
goggles and scraping caked dust from his face.
Perplexed, he looked around. What was Paolo
planning to do in this desolation? Only a few
sections of the warehouses' laminated roofs were
still intact. Except for a small thicket of
gallery forest, they were surrounded by grass in
every direction.
Paolo, meanwhile, was exuberant. These buildings
formed the shell casing for the idea that had
bored through his mind ever since he had seen
them from the air - they could be the first
structures in a community expressly designed to
thrive in these inhospitable, supposedly
uninhabitable lands.
For now, he was home. As they leaned against the
Land Rover, three small yellow-billed terns flew
over. "There must be water beyond those trees,"
Paolo said.
"Why?"
He pointed at the birds. "River gulls. They're gaviotas."
A Living Laboratory
As Paolo's duties in the Chocó wound down, he
spent more time at his camp, which he had named
Gaviotas. Paolo often stayed on the nearby Río
Muco with his llanero friend, who was growing
rice, citrus, papaya, mangos, guavas, and cashew
fruit. But in order for a substantial population
to live here, Paolo realized, they would need to
cultivate the llano itself, not just the thin,
arable strips along its river banks.
Not long after his first trip to los llanos,
Paolo learned that Dr. Sven Zethelius, a soil
chemist at the National University, was
delivering a series of lectures on the tropics.
Sensing a fellow dreamer, Paolo attended the
lectures whenever the Universidad Nacional wasn't
closed by strikes.
This windmill was designed to take advantage of
faint, tropical breezes. Gaviotas has distributed
this technology and other innovations throughout
Colombia and the world.
Photo by Alan Weisman
One afternoon, he cornered Zethelius in his
chemistry lab and explained that he'd staked a
claim to the abandoned highway camp he'd found in
los llanos, along with 10,000 surrounding
hectares. "What can I plant out there?" he asked.
"Probably nothing." The soils around Gaviotas
were only about two centimeters thick, quite
acidic, and often high in aluminum toxicity,
Zethelius informed him. "Frankly, they're the
worst in Colombia. A desert."
"So I'm told. Look," Paolo urged, "think of them
as different soils. Someday, Colombians who want
land will have three choices: burn down the
Amazon, do the same to El Choco, or move to the
llanos. If we could figure out ways for people to
exist in the most resource-starved region in the
country, they can live anywhere."
"We?"
"Think of it. Gaviotas could be a living
laboratory, a chance to plan our own tropical
civilization from the ground up, instead of
depending on models and technology developed for
northern climates, like the Peace Corps wants to
teach everybody."
Zethelius began to nod.
"Something for the Third World, by the Third
World," Paolo persisted. "You know what I mean:
When we import solutions from the United States
or Europe, we also import their problems."
Zethelius glanced outside. Protesters were again
massing in the concrete plaza. Megaphones, then
tear gas would shortly follow. "True enough," he
replied. "In Colombia, we've got enough problems
as it is.
At Zethelius's direction, he planted some fruit
trees and also tried growing corn, without much
success. He lured a pair of university soil
chemistry students out to hunt for possible
pockets of fertility, as well as to look for sand
and clay deposits to use in construction. He
hired Guahibo Indian and llanero workers to begin
reconditioning the old highway workers' camp and
building thatched living quarters. When an
itinerant teacher wandered in, the scattering of
families who lived in the area embraced Paolo's
idea of a school, and soon the teacher had ten
llanero kids for pupils. A nurse from Puerto
Gaitan offered to come once a month. Within a
year, as more people settled in Gaviotas, she was
staying for a week at a time.
From Utopia to Topia
"You don't want to just survive out here,"
Zethelius's voice declared from behind his
mosquito netting. They were lying in canvas
hammocks under an open-air maloca the Guahibo had
built. "You're trying to create a utopia. In los
llanos, no less."
Paolo tried to sit upright in his hammock to look
the older man directly in the eye. After flailing
about briefly, he gave up. Lying back again, he
said, "I want Gaviotas to be real. I'm tired of
reading about all these places that sound so
perfect but never get lifted off the page into
reality. Just for once, I'd like to see humans go
from fantasy to fact. From utopia, which in Greek
literally means 'no place,' to topia."
But how to do that? He started by persuading the
faculties of various universities around the
country to send thesis candidates to Gaviotas, to
dream up solutions to the challenges that
concocting an ideal society from scratch in los
llanos would entail. Word spread that Gaviotas
was seeking adventurous thinkers with ideas they
wanted to test. The reward: Earn a degree by
helping to make the empty savannahs flourish. If
the students thought they would be happy at
Gaviotas, Lugari told them, Gaviotas would be
their sponsor.
Which meant, they later learned, that they would
get a hammock, mosquito netting, food, and a
share in the cooking duties. Usually, they didn't
learn this until 500 kilometers of roadless llano
separated them from home.
Gaviotan water pumps, like this innovative seesaw
pump, brought clean, safe water to many rural
South American communities.
Photo by Alan Weisman
Jorge Zapp, head of the mechanical engineering
department at the Universidad de Los Andes in
Bogotá, had needed no persuading to bring
engineering students to Gaviotas. Undergrads whom
he had taught how to weld and to turn a lathe
were now at Gaviotas getting graduate degrees, or
simply getting paid, for playing. In a drafty
workshop converted from the highway crew's former
heavy equipment shed, they recycled a mass of
flotsam lugged from the city into prototype
windmills, solar motors and water heater panels,
micro-hydro turbines, biogas generators, and all
manner of pumps.
Until the Arab oil embargo in 1973, Gaviotas was
considered an intriguing experiment with little
practical relevance. Then, as waiting in gas pump
lines gave the world time to contemplate the
novel notion of renewable energy, Gaviotas began
to attract attention. Journalists appeared. After
the Wall Street Journal published a front-page
feature about a South American community that had
"solved" the energy crisis by devising implements
powered by energy that was actually
replenishable, a delegation arrived from the
United Nations Development Programme.
In 1976, shortly after the OPEC oil embargo,
Gaviotas was designated as a model community to
the United Nations, and this honor was
accompanied by a substantial research grant. Over
the years, as their successes multiplied, the UN
support would grow to include travel budgets for
Gaviotans to scour the world for ideas they could
adapt to their tropical topia, and then show that
same world how their approach could work
anywhere. It was on one such trip in the
mid-1970s that Paolo Lugari hit upon a solution
to two problems at once.
Cultivating Los Llanos
He was returning from a conference in Río de
Janeiro, when his plane stopped to refuel in the
Brazilian jungle port of Manaus. He resigned
himself to a delay that meant the airline was
lodging them in Manaus's riverside palace, the
Hotel Tropical. But what impressed Paolo Lugari
far more that night than the neocolonial
architecture were the dinner vegetables.
He collared the maître d'. "Where," he demanded,
"are you getting fresh lettuce and tomatoes in
the middle of the jungle?" By now he knew that
the impoverished soils in los llanos weren't much
different from those of a rain forest, and
despite Sven Zethelius's diligent efforts,
Gaviotas was having a dismal time producing
anything nourishing from them.
"Aren't they lovely?" the maître d' agreed. "Some
priests deep in the forest have a garden."
Interlocking soil, cement, and burlap blocks
patterned after Incan construction methods made
up this swimming hole's dam.
Photo by Alan Weisman
Paolo cancelled his flight, rented a boat, and
went to find them. A few hours upriver, he was
led to local Catholic missionaries growing greens
in box planters made of palm wood, set on blocks
above the slick clay jungle floor. The Brazilian
priests had analyzed the soil to determine which
minerals were lacking. In the boxes, they mixed
dirt with decomposing jungle detritus, and
compensated for the absent nutrients by adding
extra cobalt, manganese, and traces of magnesium,
zinc, and copper. The result was a bountiful crop
of onions, chard, lettuce, and tomatoes.
Excited, Lugari went back and told Zapp and Zethelius. They had some concerns.
"Besides lacking all the minerals those priests
have to add, we're missing potassium, phosphorus,
calcium, and boron," Zethelius said. But the
bigger problem was root disease. Introduced
species, such as carrots and lettuce, had no
natural defenses against the local insects,
fungi, and bacteria.
"Suppose," Zapp asked Zethelius, "that instead of
poisoning soil with fungicides, we just
sterilized it?" Before Sven could reply, Zapp's
mind raced ahead. "Got it," he announced. Instead
of trying to sterilize the local soil, it would
be a lot easier to make their own, and then add
whatever minerals were necessary.
"Make it out of what?" Lugari asked.
"Anything. All you need is something to hold the
plants in place so they don't fall over. Sand
from the riverbank beaches. Rice husks."
Four years later, greenhouse enclosures covered a
third of a square kilometer, filled with Spanish
onions, tomatoes, chard, lettuce, cilantro, peas,
peppers, parsley, garlic, cabbage, balm, and
radishes. The Gaviotas hydroponic system used
wastes from the rice farms along the Río Meta as
a growing medium. The technique spread around the
country, even in the flower industry. In their
hydroponic nursery, they had plants germinating
in trays of sawdust and wood chips. "It lets us
grow food where nothing would grow before," Zapp
said.
Later, Sven Zethelius actually found something
that would grow in los llanos. Paolo had brought
the idea back from Venezuela, where he'd heard an
agronomist mention the hardiness of pinus
caribaea, the tropical pine that grew in a
variety of soils throughout Central America.
Zethelius obtained seedlings from Guatemala,
Nicaragua, Belize, and Honduras. So far,
everything was still alive and even getting
taller, with the hondurensis variety performing
the best. Sven's little plot of foot-high,
long-needle pines became a Gaviotas curiosity.
"What will we do with the pine trees?" an engineer asked him.
"Who knows? At the very least, we'll learn something from them."
Pioneer Clinic
In 1975, Oscar Gutiérrez, a doctor from Cali,
Colombia, had been headed to the Amazon for a
year of rural service when a chemist told him
about a colleague, Sven Zethelius, who was off
with a bunch of romantics trying to settle los
llanos, like pioneers in the North American Old
West. Intrigued, Oscar tracked down Paolo Lugari,
who told him that the difference was that
Gaviotas was helping to save the Indians, not
shoot them. They had a vacant building that could
serve as a clinic. "Are you ready to go?"
Gaviotas founder Paolo Lugari with a Guahibo man.
Photo by Alan Weisman
A week later, a group of Guahibo Indians appeared
to see the new doctor. Cases of smallpox, they
said, were appearing in their village. To
Gutiérrez's relief, it turned out to be measles,
but he had never seen so many adults infected at
once." There is no cure for measles," he said
helplessly. "If a person isn't immunized, it can
be fatal." Obviously, nobody here was.
Oscar Gutiérrez turned around and returned to
Bogotá to seek enough vaccine to halt an
epidemic. In the federal health department, they
told him that none was available.
"There's no vaccine," he was told again in the Ministry of Health.
"They're dying!" he insisted.
"So what? They're Indians."
In Cartagena, he finally located four thousand
doses of measles vaccine, which saved many lives,
but it was too late for many others: The
epidemic, which the health ministry had chosen to
ignore, eventually spread all the way to
Venezuela. Despite high mortality, it merited
mention only in the back pages of Bogotá
newspapers.
Originally at Gaviotas to fulfill his one-year
rural service obligation required of all recently
graduated M.D.s, Oscar Gutiérrez remained an
extra year, leaving to study cardiology in Europe
only after being assured that Magnus Zethelius,
his former assistant who had recently earned his
M.D., would replace him. Together they drew up
plans for a health system, based on their
experiences in the measles campaign, to deal with
the great distances between the villages of los
llanos. They wanted radios in every settlement,
so Indians and llaneros could call the central
clinic at Gaviotas for emergency instructions or
an ambulance. They wanted the Gaviotas school to
be a center for teaching indigeous people the
rudiments of Western medicine and also a
repository of the Indians' knowledge of medicinal
botany.
They submitted a funding proposal to the Ministry
of Health. Their work was featured in a film
about Gaviotas shown at the United Nations' 1976
World Conference on Human Settlements and Habitat
in Vancouver. Two years later, at the World
Conference on Technical Cooperation Among
Developing Countries held in Buenos Aires,
Gaviotas was named the leading example of
appropriate technology in the Third World.
Nevertheless, the Ministry of Health rejected
their proposal.
"It's unconscionable," Magnus Zethelius said.
"It's votes," Paolo replied. "In los llanos,
there aren't any. Indians don't. Nobody would
count them if they did. That's the way things
work."
"I'm sick of how things work," Magnus said.
"Maybe we should start our own hospital."
"We will," Paolo said. "We will."
NEXT ISSUE: Gaviotas! Oasis of the Imagination :: Part 2
The UN funding for Gaviotas runs out just as oil
prices plummet. With little possibility of
marketing their solar collectors, the Gaviotans
must find ways to become self-sufficient while
coping with intrusions by the military,
guerrillas, and paramilitary groups.
This adaptation and synopsis was taken from,
Gaviotas!: A Village to Reinvent the World, by
Alan Weisman, copyright © 1998. We
enthusiastically recommend this well-written,
often moving book on this remarkable community.
Go to your local bookstore or buy this book now.
Alan Weisman is an independent journalist who has
written for numerous publications, including the
Los Angeles Times Magazine. He also co-produced a
series for National Public Radio on solutions to
world environmental and social problems.
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