by Marianna Buckel of Westminster College
A little over a week ago we received our assignments of which family/ Campo we would call home for a week, as an opportunity to immerse in the local culture of Cochrane. My assignment was “Leo,” and I was told I would share this home with Bailey F. and Travis G. Claudia gave each of us a little summary of what we might expect at each campo, and a few days later, we were dropped off in what felt like the middle of nowhere, in Aysén, Chile. Although we were given a short summary about what to expect, that Leo had a lot of work to be done and was a good cook, I had no idea of what was to come.
On Saturday morning, we loaded into Bertha van, eager to begin an experience so different of what we had been doing the weeks prior. I slept for most of the drive, and the first thing I saw upon opening my eyes was a quaint, adorable purple home surrounded by greenhouses, sheep, and leñga trees. We piled out of the van, immediately greeted by dogs, kittens, sheep, and Leo. Bailey and I speak a bit of Spanish, but not enough to understand the quick mumbling of the gauchos. I stood there unsure of what was being said, further distracted by the adorable kittens running around at my feet. Gabe helped translate and told us that the corderos (lambs) about 40 meters away from us had been born just twenty minutes prior, and the tour of the Campo began. Leo showed us the verduras (vegetables), invernaderos (greenhouses), carpas (goats), puppies, chickens, and a space for us to put our tents. After setting up our shelters amidst a flock of geese and sheep (and a little bit of poop), it was time for our first meal together.
That Leo is a good cook is an understatement. It may have been the weariness of working or my being tired of rice cakes, but Leo managed to make everything taste like I could eat an entire table’s worth of food. She was told that Bailey did not eat meat and that I did not eat gluten, and every meal included options that both of us could eat and feel well fed. After our first lunch, Leo’s son, Iban, showed us to the verdure fresas, or strawberry greenhouses, where our primary work would take place.
We cut strawberry deadheads for a total of 25 hours in the week we spent with Leo. Our first session felt gruesome; it was raining, we had no clue when we would be done, and we didn’t have calluses (from the scissors) in the right places yet. After a few hours, Iban yelled “terminan,” and we went inside the house, expecting dinner (it was around 6:00 PM). We came inside to find everyone gathered around the wood stove, sipping mate out of a couple of gourds. We drank mate and chatted for almost four hours, making dinner begin at around 10:00 PM. By the end of dinner and one or two cervezas, we were exhausted and went right to bed.
Every day followed a similar schedule in Campo. We would wake up at around 8:15, start drinking mate soon after, and finish breakfast by around 9:30 or 10:00. We spent the entire day working in the Campo, cutting deadheads, gathering soil from a different area of the property, planting cilantro and radishes, and my personal favorite, planting lettuce in the hydroponic tables.
Despite our fairly low knowledge of the language, Leo would always show us what to do, and come around from time to time to check up on us. Lunch was always the priority meal of the day, with mate and a siesta to follow. I spent my siestas walking around the Campo and doing so reminded me of how incredibly beautiful the surrounding area was. I would ask Leo and her husband, Moises, about the things I had seen on my walk, like the river, birds, and waterfalls. Leo usually smiled and seemed to appreciate our awe of her land. While we could only communicate fairly simple concepts to one another, like our favorite colors, seasons, work, pollolo/as (partners), and how we were, after only a couple of days into the homestay it felt as if we had become very comfortable with one another. Anytime that we mentioned a food that we had tried, or we liked, Leo tried to provide it for us in the following meal. We had ceviche, salmon salad, pumpkin stew, fried bread, ice cream, manjar, fresh fruits and vegetables, and even drank mate pomelo, or mate straight from a grapefruit. The food and kindness of Leo and her family made the work feel less and less as the days went on.
My favorite moment of the entire experience happened on the second to last day. After spending around 5 days living in Leo’s life, we felt considerably more comfortable in expressing (and showing) when we needed breaks from work. While Travis continued to haul bags of dirt to the truck, Bailey, Leo and I sat in la tierra (the earth, soil) and just played there for a few minutes. Running our hands through the soil like we were children making sandcastles, Leo so eloquently said that she loves to play in “la tierra,” and that the soil removes impurities and washes away the evil. Although we had spent most of the week working, it felt beautiful to share a moment of “play” and such a sentimental feeling amongst ourselves.
Despite coming into homestays with little expectation of what was to come, I was (pleasantly) surprised to feel bummed to leave on the final day. It was a lot of time spent working and concentrating on communicating, but as Kira said following the experience, it was an incredible opportunity to enjoy the art of slowing down and growing in self-sufficiency. I will never again eat a strawberry without considering the time spent cutting deadheads, sharing a living space with baby animals of all kinds, and remembering the warmth and kindness of Leo and her family for extending their home to three strangers for a week.
