Médano del Huevo

Projects on the poverty line.

Or so it felt. A few weeks ago we signed up to a website called workaway with two motives: to experience a little more Argentinian authenticity and to reduce expenditure - Argentina has really hit our wallet over the past few weeks. As you do with applications, we scatter-gunned them all over the north of Argentina and Chile. Our most promising response came from a man named Esteban who was looking for help on his Eco-project. Ecosur is the very recently established company which aims to promote sustainable living. Its base is a farm in the middle of nowhere, about five or six hours south of Mendoza and they needed help doing all things Eco. After a few emails and a short phone call, that's exactly where we were headed.

General Alvear is the closest town to Ecosur and it was supposed to be our pick-up point for the project. However, we got messed around for a while and finally found ourselves on a local bus racing through the countryside with literally no idea where we were headed (I still don't even know the name of the place we ended up). Fortunately we were with another few volunteers and later rendezvoused with Esteban, who happily took us the final 20 minutes to Ecosur (his farm) in the tray of a rusty truck along a dark and dusty road. If you were worrying about us trusting the wrong people, this was the time to do so.

Ecosur is two years old and it very much feels so. It's like Esteban tried to create civilisation again - from scratch. But with tyres. And paint. And mud. Three building's are to show from the last two year's work and only one is an 'eco-building'. A variety of other projects litter the grounds around them - finished, abandoned or underway. Stacked, filled and painted rubber tyres serve sporadically as tables and seating. Stacks of bamboo, branches, bark and firewood lie in heaps around the yard awaiting their various destinies. An abandoned skeleton of a dome can be seen emerging from the long grass, barely hanging on to someone's washing. A listing and apparently well-used table is on it's last legs under a sagging bamboo awning. Smoke fills the air and the nostrils, as the numerous crumbling clay fireplaces churn through locally sourced firewood burning the empanadas above. A lone light above the door to the volunteers hut casts shadows on this mess before disappearing into endless shrub.

Inside the volunteers hut the place is buzzing. People from all over the world are hustling around the kitchen, oven and tables rolling pastry, preparing filling and folding empanadas. It's Friday night and everybody knows that's empanada night. Saturday is pizza and Sunday is bbq but tonight it's the tasty pastries and they're a hungry bunch. As are we. It's after nine and there's still a lot of cooking to be done.

We didn't eat until almost 11 that night and I can't say good things about the quality of the food, which could be expected when you're essentially cooking on an open fire. But there was plenty of it and plenty of good company and interesting stories to make up for it. There was also some locally sourced vino to wash it down with. To say it came in 5l unlabelled bottles would require no explanation of the quality. Little did we know we'd be drinking this like it was fruit juice for the next seven nights! We bunked up in the Earthship eco building on a filthy mattress on a dirt floor with a lovely couple from the Basque Country, contemplating the filth in which we were about to spend a week - it truely was another world. What did we sign up for?!

I know what you're thinking: "here he goes whining again..." This isn't a whine. There was no sugar coating on the ad and we were pre-warned of the quality of the accommodation so read this not as a complaint but merely a description. There was one bathroom for 12 volunteers, which included one toilet and heat-as-you-go 'shower'. The floors were brown with dirt, as were the matresses, the walls, the tables and everyone's clothing. All the dishes were battling to remain their original colour against the relentless attack of soot from the open fires which is irremovable when you're only washing in cold water - which incidently was pumped from the well to the water tank by a bicycle-powered pump. Outside, the most persistent and aggressive mosquitos in the world ate through layers of deet to feast our succulent skin - Cat of course the biggest loser. To top this off, there were seven mangy cats, six dogs, and a sheep to add filth to the filth. It was third world living and some - a real opportunity to teach ourselves to appreciate what we have.

Arriving on a Friday night meant we had two full days before we were required to work. We spent them hanging out; exploring the farm and projects, reading, chatting, making fires and eating, and making the most of both the sun and good wifi. Yes, if there's one thing Esteban cuts no corners for it's wifi. In fact, he is in the process of installing a 30m tower in his front yard to provide high speed internet to anyone who wishes to join him on his crusade - his wisest move to date of you ask me. He is also offering free land to those who share his dream.

To help you understand the madness, let me tell you about the man behind it: Esteban. We were only there a week and I only had a few conversations with him so this is just a snippet of the man and his project - the full story, I imagine, would make a good book one day. Esteban grew up in Buenos Aires, with his pop who owned a newspaper stand downtown which they regularly had to protect from numerious rallies and riots. He later met and married an American woman with whom he moved to California to pursue his studies. It took just one year of the American greed and gluttony for him to divorce his wife and abandon his studies and flee to Cuba to pursue political and cultural interests (I think). Sometime later he realised he still had his green card and returned to America to abuse the privilege. He 'bent the system' to gain acceptance to a masters programme in the sciences (without a bachelor's degree) from which he soon graduated. Continuing in his grand scheme, he moved to Silicon Valley where he tolerated several years of work, saving every dime for his farm in the Mendoza region and the associated ongoing costs of the Eco-project. He bought his land a few years ago where he now lives with his dad, his friend Jesus, and an everchanging group of volunteers. Although physically the project doesn't appear to be much, Esteban has put a great deal of effort in awareness, planning and relationships which suggests that the project is much more mature than what meets the eye. He's extremely passionate and very friendly and despite the apparent madness, he has realistic expectations, an excellent sense of humour and a great deal of patience - oh and an unrivalled hatred of consumerism and financial wealth. There you go.

Work on Monday began at 11am (couldn't believe it!) in the form of sledge hammering dirt into tyres. It was brutal on us holiday-maker's backs and hands and we were quick to jump at the opportunity to make marmalade instead. Almost all of the food we ate was locally grown or sourced which was great for the first day but we quickly tired of the same ingredients, healthy or not. Our cravings for the usual daily treats and high sugar diets became more and more painful as we openly discussed our 'how good would...'s - cheese and chocolate of course, the most consistent winners. Chimmichurri was our saviour - an irresistible mix of olive oil, salt, garlic, chilli and a variety of green herbs which was served (and devoured) with every lunch and dinner by popular demand. Chuck me the chimmi I'm bringing some home!

The next day I got stuck into plastering the inside of the volunteers hut. It was more hard labour mixing and barrowing the plaster but it was the most rewarding job on site which made all the difference. The days blurred into one over the rest of the week as we worked, slept, cooked and ate in great quantities. What didn't blur was my fascination with the languages. Spanish was dominant (obviously), quickly followed by French (there were five frenchies) and then English. What was really interesting was that no single language prevailed. Everybody could speak varying levels of each; me the worst at Spanish but higher up the rankings in French, a few spoke no English but Spanish rather well, and others no French but reasonable English. The conversational language was usually determined by the primary listener's first language and then interchanged as required to convey the message, all the while various translations branched into alternate conversations. It was a circus of vocabulary and conjugations (or lack there of) which proved extremely beneficial for everyone's learning and humour. Stoked to be forced back into practice even if I was making sentences in Spanish and French at the same time.

One Spanish word I learnt and will never forget is 'parrilla'. It means 'bbq' and was uncoincidently the name of Esteban's pet sheep. Parrilla was the strangest sheep I've ever met and apparently Kiwis have met a lot of sheep, or so I'm told far too regularly. Adopted as a lamb of just a few weeks, Parrilla was essentially raised as one of the dogs. Unfortunately for her she thinks she is one - only she's a few biscuits short of the packet. Her primary dysfunction is extremely evident in her eating habits. She will eat ANYTHING. From wood to gloves. Shoes to rubbish. Books, tyres, other dogs, bamboo, fence wire, paint and even - I'm not exaggerating - the left headlight of Esteban's ute! She actually still has green lips from an open paint tin from before we arrived. About the only thing she won't eat is grass so it's an absolute wonder she's still alive. Her other dysfunctions include dog-like behaviour such as chasing and sniffing quick moving humans, digging holes and 'baa-ing' at intruders. The fact that her wool is permanently laden with all types and sizes of foliage - some longer than her - is further cause for amusement. She is also quick to avenge our persistent teasing by urinating on anything important at the slightest hint of an opportunity, whilst looking the first responder in the eye and refusing to move or desist. What a wonder.

The week at Ecosur rocketed by and the work progressed at a snails pace despite the quantity of workers. We did adjust to the conditions and actually really enjoyed ourselves (mosquitoes aside). Plus, we learnt a lot about sustainable living and with the aid of podcasts we were able to get a better handle on what we really need in this every growing consumerist world (at the risk of sounding like a greeny). It definitely got us thinking and discussing the vastly different ways of life and what it takes or doesn't take to lead them. It's always a shame to leave a project unfinished (or rather just a task) and good company behind. We were however, desperate for a shower and some clean - well, anything clean. And we were only there a week! We left in Esteban's ute (which required some serious love and half a can of unlabelled CFC through the air intake to get started) with two of the french girls. We made it back to Alvear in the nick of time to buy tickets and bus out to Mendoza (the city), leaving behind our thanks and good luck and taking with us a few cubic yards of dirt and smoke and a newfound appreciation for, well... everything.Read more