By: Katie Loomis-Adams, Middlebury College
It was a misty November morning on the day that we arrived at our farm homestay outside the town Puerto Guadal. Stepping out of the Round River truck, I knew that I had landed somewhere special. The land was perched on cliffs overlooking the vast Lago General Carrera. Unfurling spring flowers, long greenhouses, and garden beds of lettuce spanned the length of the property. After unloading our things, we set up our tents close to the lake’s edge, then walked to the main quincho to enjoy a hearty salad for lunch. There we were greeted by the farm’s volunteers and workers from across the world, including France, Germany, Ecuador, and Chile. That afternoon, we folded into farm projects and activities, repotting native plants, weeding garden beds, and helping to construct a canopy for shade over the trees and seedlings.
As we worked on repotting seedlings and watering the trees each day, we enjoyed having long conversations with one another. I was curious to learn about the process of growing native plants on this land. The director of Naturaleza Publica, Maria Jesus, explained that in the summer months, she journeyed into the mountains to gather seeds from plants, trees, flowers, and bushes like flor de viento (Anemone multifida), chacay (Discaria chacaye), michay (Berberis darwinii), maqui (Aristotelia chilensis), frutilla del diablo (Gunnera magellanica), and others. Back on her land, she planted the wild seeds in large trays and tended to their growth. After they sprouted and formed leaves, she transplanted the seedlings into larger pots, and continued that process until they were of planting size and age. During our homestay, I was part of the team repotting these seedlings. At the end of each work day, we typically wandered down to the lake to swim, read, and relax on the rocky shore. One day we were accompanied by a father and son from the Netherlands who were bikepacking through Aysén and had stopped to camp on the property for the night.
One day on the farm, we were discussing the importance of music in rural areas where access to art galleries and museums are often limited. Maria Jesus mentioned that instrument ownership in the region was not very common. It just so happened that I had both a fiddle and backpacking guitar in my tent with me on the farm. When I shared this with Maria Jesus, she exclaimed that her good friend was in town who also played music. That evening Maria Jesus lit a fire, bought local cheeses, and hosted a jam for the two of us. The other musician, Ben, and I instantly realized we both belonged to the very small genre of “old-time music” which largely grew out of Appalachia. We sat overlooking Lago General Carrera playing our shared repertoire of fiddle and banjo tunes as the evening light faded. For the remainder of my time on the farm, I made the intention to be present for every second, grateful for the connections – to the earth, to the other interns, to the music, to Maria Jesus and her family – that were growing in so many ways.
Playing old-time over Lago General Carrera. Photo: Maria Jesus May.