The remote family farm in Colombia
I watched a National Geographic special about Africa last night. It got me thinking, as usual.
The crew followed two women – one named Flora who had been raised in the city of Arusha, Tanzania. She had a college education, spoke four languages, and ran her own business. She was a successful African businesswoman. But then she fell in love with a Dorobo hunter-gatherer and abandoned all possessions to join him on the land in the remote area of Tanzania called Ngapapa, to have his children, to work hard, to struggle, and to embrace nature.
I have asked myself many times over the years. How Primal am I really? Could I walk away from society as I know it?
I asked myself this when I went to Colombia with Julian. His dad has a remote coffee farm high in the mountains. No roads go directly there, only a hiking/horse trail which takes about 45 minutes to hike in the humid heat.
The stove is wood fire, the kitchen made of cement. The shower is cold running water taken outside in a small enclosure. The clothes are washed in a cement basin and hung to dry. There is no glass on the windows, only open air and maybe some wooden shutters. There is no indoor bathroom, just a toilet behind a shutter outside. Food is fresh or dried. Meat is brought in periodically on a man’s or horse’s back or sometimes it’s killed on site. Evenings are short and filled with conversation before the next day’s work.
Me roasting sun-dried coffee beans on the stove
Me washing my clothes
A very unfinished farm house
I’ve been camping. I’ve been backpacking. And sometimes it’s been hard and tiring, filled with bugs, cold nights, and blisters, but the comforts of home are always close by. The farm wasn’t like that. This was home. This simplicity is life.
So I asked myself, is that for me? I asked myself then and again last night. Could I live like that? Have I been too shaped by the complexity of this society?
I have always been a nature girl. I love to do anything outdoors. I climb, hike, sunbathe, I watch and listen to the animals, I smell flowers. I am not very attached to things like most are in our country. I own very little and live very simply. I like it that way. But I’m also cosmopolitan. I love the opera and stimulating conversation. I’m academic and highbrow. I love the pursuit of knowledge and the perfection of talents. I live for contemplating and creating.
How happy would I be without mounds of paper to write on and stacks of books to read? How free would I feel without my piano to pour my soul into? How would I feel if I never read another theorem and couldn’t keep up on the direction mathematics takes? Tonight I watched a 5 minute special on TED about the emerging field of the mathematics of history. This stuff excites me beyond the beauty of a sunset. How would I feel about letting it go forever?
Could I move to a remote farm in Colombia with my lover and my children? Or more dramatic still, could I allow myself to be adopted by a hunter-gatherer tribe somewhere if the opportunity arose?
I ask these questions because I actually consider doing this kind of stuff. But, in the shorter term,I want to better understand myself. How attached am I to modern life? How much do I really love simplicity and nature? Philosophically, do I really think humanity should chuck technology and get back to our roots (whether or not we actually could and how that might be achieved is another topic entirely)? Or do I think there is value in this modern life somehow?
I’ve often wondered if we’re not just addicted to it, if the stuff we do in our society isn’t just as destructive and addictive as the stuff we eat. Is modern life in all its forms just plain toxic or is there some intrinsic value in this rat race?
I ask myself this because I know I’ll test my limits one day. And when I do, how will I fare? Will I come running back hungry for ideas? Or will I let go and let nature have her way with me?
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May 29, 2012 at 9:16 pm
I tend to think that, like with food, there’s a middle ground. Some of the things we have, I’m grateful of. I have coconut oil and pineapple, two things that as a Canadian I wouldn’t have access to in a truly primal environment. Humans have always had music. Why not your piano, instead of a drilled horn flute? Why not stories told from a book as well as stories told around the fire?
If you do run away and go native, I’ll certainly miss your stimulating thought-exercises.
I’m glad that I have friends in almost every country on this planet. I think it helps save from other-ism. (I grew up in a fairly remote community. I know xenophobia.) I’m glad that we don’t have all of a community’s knowledge kept in the fragile brain of one or two people, to potentially be lost and need to be relearnt at any point.
I don’t know. I want a house, off the grid, with a internet connection. I want to have my own chickens, but get my beef from the farm across the county. I want the best of both worlds.
But that’s me, and you’re you, and as we always say, you know what you need.
May 29, 2012 at 9:25 pm
Peggy, This is a big question.
I too love the outdoors but as a get away from the rat race of society. I am sure that once you become accustomed to the ebb and flow of a simpler life ( not easier though )it would be fine, if you could let go of even the simple conveniences of modern life. Running water, indoor plumbing, refrigerated food, and modern traumatic medical facilities ( I would have a hard time with this one with 3 boys )these are all things that we take for granted and until you have an experience like you just had where you are really far off route and away from your situation normal, you will never understand the absence of those things. Even though I think I may be able to do it for myself I am not sure I could do it and with my family unit it would have to be zombies and the apocalypse before I would attempt it.
I think that everyone should experience something like this though, even short term, it would teach what things are more important in life and which ones may not be as important as we make them out to be.
Thank you for sharing. I love the mental images and thoughts that you provoke!
Mike
May 30, 2012 at 7:11 am
Great post!
I’d sure love to try that way of having a simple lifestyle. I believe most technology makes us miss the real life. But I know I couldn’t do it forever, I also love the technologyfilled life I’m living right now
But I do dream about that simple way.. And I would love to give my children the opportunity to. Maybe we’ll take a year off someday?
May 30, 2012 at 8:16 am
I think I’d just like to have the choice. Like if I wanted to live more simply, I could but then as soon as I felt a need to get a little more complex with things, I could. I suppose if I start focusing, I can set up my life that way, i.e., have the resources to move back and forth as I chose. But it seems once you disconnect it’s hard to reconnect and once you’re connected, it’s hard to disconnect. I wonder if that makes any sense to anyone but me.
May 30, 2012 at 2:23 pm
crossing that line is harder than you think. Doing it repeatedly takes psychological fortitude and even then isa major cause of burnout in aid workers.
May 30, 2012 at 2:39 pm
That’s a good point, Lauren. I’ve thought about that too: I’ll just get a little land up in the hills with a simple living structure and a well, and then I’ll have a great condo in the city. Switching gears often doesn’t come easy. But then, who says it has to be often? Also, if the amount of time spent in each place were voluntary and there weren’t the crazy pressures of being an aid worker, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard…
May 30, 2012 at 3:03 pm
Check out this woman’s situation – it’s not necessarily the frequency but the extremes and our interpretations of them: http://revolutionfromhome.com/2012/03/what-is-truly-worthwhile-again-and-by-the-way-which-end-is-up/
May 30, 2012 at 10:23 am
I’ve thought long about this too Peggy. My fiance and I have for years now been trying to find a place in the country to live an energy+food independent, simpler life. Land is expensive and we’re picky so it hasn’t happened yet, but when I fantasise about it I also wonder, what degree of simplicity do I actually want or would genuinely be happy with?
I think having internet and a few choice electric tools/appliances is the happy median, but I also have a romantic craving for total simplicity – a hearth for cooking and heating, a larder and cellar for keeping things cool, but no fridge. None of that electronic noise throughout the house that grates on me so much. A restored understanding and appreciation of labour.
But that takes a massive commitment. What if it doesn’t work out? Will there be a sense of failure? And if one’s partner is unwilling to go that far then it’s just not even feasible.
Next week we’re going up to a hunt camp in Quebec for a week of fishing / simpler living. Every time we go there I am restored to a level of functioning that is truer/better. I’m not sure how to describe this. Life just… is. It is what it should be. There is a certain rhythm, and the mind is clear and open while doing the labout that needs to be done. The funny thing is, I never had this with camping. Camping is just such a hassle – even though we went a lot and had a very systematised ‘household’, it was still a huge hassle. And that distracts from the living.
At the hunt camp there are just enough basics to be able to relax a little bit and have some nature-leisure time. But some of its ‘conveniences’ are probably unecessary. For example there is running water but it runs very slowly and is only cold. Why not just get it from a well? There are kitchen appliances but they are propane and don’t work great, especially the fridge. I end up bringing things that need refrigeration and they go bad on me very quickly because the fridge is only cool. The freezer is handy though. Still, I could do without. As for the stove, I’ve cooked over fire plenty of times and would be perfectly happy to do so permanently. They turn on the generator for electricity in the evenings there, but I have no need for artificial light. I don’t shower for a week when I’m there, just wipe with a moist cloth once a day, and I don’t smell.
I don’t feel limited at all when I’m there. I feel free and I feel like I could go on like that forever. I do bring books, and a bit of music to listen to once in a while, but they don’t detract from that feeling of living outside. So maybe it’s possible to have a very basic household structure, but have a few products of ‘civilised’ life to enhance spiritual/intellectual joy. I find myself getting a lot more out of what I read there, as though the words, the knowledge, have a truer life there too. Experiencing books that way is one my greatest joys in life, the highlight of the year every time.
I’m sorry this is so long and jumbled. I’m low on sleep today and this topic is very important to me. Hope this made some kind of sense.
May 30, 2012 at 11:58 am
“Every time we go there I am restored to a level of functioning that is truer/better” – this reminds me of the book “Plenty”, a Vancouver, B.C. journalism couple who lived for a week or two in a cabin up north. Their description and yours are so similar. It sounds wonderful. Have you ever read the Little House on the Prairie books? I get way more out of them as an adult interested in homesteading than I did as a kid and I loved them then too).
May 30, 2012 at 12:08 pm
Haven’t read any of those, but will definitely look them up. Thanks!
May 30, 2012 at 2:28 pm
Alexandra,
I like that kind of vacation. Real simple living is fun for me and not so difficult for me to adjust to. Getting away for a little while to that kind of life is definitely doable, living like that indefinitely is another story.
May 30, 2012 at 3:38 pm
That’s true. Ideally then one would have the flexibility to live minimally like that in the country and whenever a break is needed (maybe every 3 months or so?) go back to the city for a bit (stock up on books, haha). You’d need a reliable house sitter to take care of your animals and garden though.
That seems reasonable right? I’m not sure transitioning would be all that hard a few times a year, but then I have a very flexible personality. For some people that might not work.
May 30, 2012 at 11:20 am
I think about this a lot, too. Modern life has its own difficulties, and sometimes I feel like I’d rather trade it in for something simpler.
There are definitely things I like about living in the U.S., so often my “simple life” fantasies involve living on some acreage, growing our own food, and not being too too far away from people I like. It would be really interesting to see how I fared living more primal than that, though. I think it would be a great way to get a hard look at oneself, clear the mind, and get to one’s human roots.
I see value in simplifying, and even giving up modern conveniences, at least for a season. It’s hard to fully appreciate things like clothes washers and flushing toilets unless you’ve had to do without. (By the way, I have no desire to give up clothes washers and flushing toilets, or hot running water for that matter.)
I think what intrigues me most about primal life, is the tribal aspect. I want to know what it’s like to live in a community where people directly support each other like that. Technically, that can be experienced in the States, too, such as in a commune.
If I *were* to go try and live a very primitive life, I’d eventually want some books. I think for a while, it would be nice to get away from the constant influx of information, but I wouldn’t want to give up books forever.
There is one thing I definitely do not want to live without and that is nutritious food. I wouldn’t want to live any kind of life where I didn’t have consistent access to quality food. (I don’t want to starve.)
May 30, 2012 at 2:25 pm
That is what is most intriguing to me too. The tribe.
May 30, 2012 at 3:54 pm
How does that fit in with how we imagine simple/primal living now – for ourselves?
Unless you’re moving to an established community somwhere in the third world, simple living is generally you on your plot of land. If you even have reasonable near neighbours, they are likely to be quite untribal, like most North Americans. So unless you’re starting a commune or breeding a large family, I’m not sure how you can have a ‘tribe’ effect.
Clearly, the solution is for all of us to pool money together and start a primal commune!
May 30, 2012 at 5:34 pm
I’ve dreamed of nudging my way into an established community in Peru or somewhere in Africa or something. Being at the farm in Colombia gave me a sense of what it would be like to ditch modern conveniences but that definitely wasn’t the whole picture of truly going Primal.
On my facebook page someone commented on the link to this post about her efforts to make a community of land sharers who all work together and help each other. I think that’s pretty cool but even that is not quite what I day dream about.
Some part of me just wants to give it all up and even pretend like the modern world doesn’t exist. But you can’t really pretend in all honesty can you?…
A Primal commune is probably the answer.
But somewhere warm please!
May 30, 2012 at 7:25 pm
I’ve fantasized about that too, but I don’t think that’s really feasible, unfortunately. I don’t think we can give up having an active intellectual life. It’s more than just habit or a pastime, isn’t it? It’s the very way we interact with and process reality. I doubt that can be changed, and for all that I might romanticise a fully non-modern life, I don’t think I could genuinely enjoy it for that reason.
May 31, 2012 at 4:29 am
^what she said
June 1, 2012 at 6:59 am
Exactly.
May 30, 2012 at 11:37 am
You could take the rural location and modify it it – say, by building a cob house with a rocket stove. It would feel snug and cozy and it’s a DIY project that kids can do too (whole family involvement). The photos of the area are beautiful, why not have it all? Or conversely, there’s a small community in Crestone, CO where land is cheap, building codes don’t exist, and the NY Times writes about it (in the positive). Driving distance to modern ammenities.
May 30, 2012 at 12:03 pm
The photo of you washing clothes reminds me of what I had to do while growing up. It might sound rare but my first ever experience with washers and dryers was when I lived in europe. The same way with a dishwasher. Not that my parents couldn’t afford it but because my mom’s turkish heritage was more important ( and her and my dad lived with a bunch of gypsies) cooking on gas/fire stoves was common for me until I turned about 12 and my parents could afford a “comfortable life”.
May 30, 2012 at 2:20 pm
Same was true for Julian. He knew some people with dishwashers and washer/dryers but his own home didn’t have them and the farm, where he spent a lot of his time growing up (till he was 18 and moved to the US), didn’t have much of any modern conveniences. It was a big shock for me. He only spoke positively of the farm so I was quite surprised when I arrived. That was his home and he loved it. It took some getting used to but I loved it too.
May 30, 2012 at 2:56 pm
I have no problem pumping my water or scrubbing my clothes to hang on barbed wire clotheslines or sorting my rice, but the potential for ostracisation (while great for journalling in the short term) is a risk in the longer term. Our cultural background puts us (you, Peggy, and I, and likely many of those reading) in a different position than Chelo or Julian or those who started from a “simpler” life (which should not be romanticised as either simple or easy) because we have to factor in the dissonance between personal politics and subconscious expectations. I’m not sure that I’m expressing this clearly or in a way that those mentioned can endorse, and I’d be interested to hear their thoughts.
Basically, we can never go wholeheartedly ‘home’ to primal living because we will always be tourists or at best immigrants to it, with the stresses that inevitably and permanently confers. Whether it relieves more problems than it causes is the crux of it, and one I’m very interested in as well. In my case, a compromise including satellite internet would make it easier to answer!
There’s also the (admittedly somewhat fictionalised, according to an incensed Masai man I know who seems mostly annoyed by the unflattering sex scenes) film The White Masai, which might interest you.
May 30, 2012 at 3:20 pm
a FB friend posted this a while ago. I have not proofed its provenance but it appealed to me anyhow:
“To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart; to study hard; to think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, await occasions, hurry never; in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common.” – William Ellery Channing
May 30, 2012 at 3:22 pm
evidently it ends “– this is my symphony”
See that’s why I should check this stuff BEFORE posting!
May 30, 2012 at 3:47 pm
I don’t know, I think after a few years of living like that and only visiting the city once in a while that environment would become home. Yes, you would in a certain sense be an immigrant because you would have memories of your city-past, but I’m not sure that really matters after a while.
As for subconscious (or conscious!) expectations, I think that’s precisely the discussion here. We imagine, we have experienced in some degree, but we don’t really KNOW whether we would enjoy living like that for the rest of our lives.
I think the right way to do it with our backgrounds is to arrange for a year living like that, but without giving up all possessions yet, so there’s still an ‘out’. I think by the end of one full year one would be able to tell whether it can work and with what balance of city visits.
May 30, 2012 at 4:08 pm
Thumbs up on the commune plan!
Not to belabor the point, but culture shock follows a curve, the length of which is determined by the exit point from the foreign culture. If you know you’re leaving you either never fully integrate, or you go through an extraction process towards the end of the curve. The process is repeate don reentry to your home culture. So you can’t have both ‘the rest of our lives’ AND the coming and going. You either “go native” and deliberately remove your options for reintegration, or you dabble. Scary, scary doodoo! The memories are part of it, but the culture never leaves you. I’m a peripatetic expat; I can vouch for this! And in the case of living in a way that your childhood culture would depict as deprived, you sort of have to develop nasty associations with the culture of abundance to live with yourself, and that makes dabbling really rough. It forces you to frame yourself TO YOURSELF as an outsider. It robs you of the anchoring concept of home.
That is the brilliance of the commune model – as long as all self-defined outsiders are well adjusted and agree on the new home model (no guarantee!) we are golden
May 30, 2012 at 4:31 pm
I’m still not convinced it has to be all or nothing, nor that it has to be that hard to integrate the different worlds. I’ve gone through a couple immigrations moving from very different cultures and levels of comfort – yes, they were all Western countries, nevertheless – I’ve had no problems putting the past behind me as the past and immersing myself into the new culture and lifestyle. I don’t think there needs to be this dramatic break and massive psychological shift like you’re suggesting.
The other thing is, you’re specifically talking about moving to a different culture in the search for simplicity. But it can be done in the ‘home’ country, commune or no commune, in which case the adjustment is only to the simplified lifestyle. It might not be easy, but neither does it have to be HARD.
May 30, 2012 at 5:38 pm
True! The culture you’re moving to may also be in fact a lack of culture in the sense that, as you note above, within a Western country you’d be moving away from people rather than towards them. That’s a whole other kind of adjustment. The commune idea supports the need for community as well as the search for simplicity.
May 30, 2012 at 9:11 pm
I think about this alot too. But I have an theory that says that as we keep pushing forward with technology and science, we will come full circle but it’ll be better than the Paleolithic Era. Think of all the best parts of modern life(medicine…sorta, the Internet, etc) but our tech would have evolved so much that we would be able to live much more simply than we do now. I could write an entire book on this I think. But….I am a dreamer, so I might be being naive. I hope not tho bc it would be a great future for our descendants to live in. Then again, I do long for a primitive life and I think it would go down like Fight Club: after a month, you don’t even miss tv-or in my case the web, bc I shunned the Idiot Box a loooong time ago. Thanks for writing a great post, this is something I think about every day.
May 31, 2012 at 6:00 am
I like that idea, Daniel. Technology is still very haphazard. I could see a time when it would become vast and systematic enough to be compatible with a simple lifestyle.
But on the other hand, I look at people around me and I see that they don’t LIKE minimalism. Most people seem to genuinely like clutter and excess (a professed craving for more minimalism is often just the desire for tidier clutter). I mean this both with respect to possessions and lifestyle. So I’m not sure that any very large number of people will ever want to live simply even if technology became advanced to enable them to do so comfortably.
Sounds like it would make a great novel though, imagining the whole world being like that.
May 31, 2012 at 6:35 pm
It would be a good book….
I see a strong dislike for minimalism as well. I prefer it myself primarily out of a respect for discipline, efficiency, and simplicity. And a broader philosophical perspective based on evolutionary insights. So, my view is most probably biased-I see the point of tech and its highest expression thru a total simplification of life. I’m almost certain that it would never come to pass as I see it in my mind’s eye except thru a socialist dictatorship where technology and minimalism are worshipped. This is NOT something I am for. Not in the least. So, sadly, unless I write a novel in this thread, we prob won’t see it. I am, by nature and philosophy, a primitive anarchist though so in the bigger picture, I’d give up my iPad in a heartbeat to live as, say, the Sioux Indians did.
June 1, 2012 at 6:46 am
Anarchism gets a bad rap; I see it as about personal responsibility and the golden rule, but the militants ruin it. Perhaps a plain black notebook could find a place in your home, for filling with the novel that won’t be?
Actually that’s exactly that border between stuff and personal expression that’s under discussion. Interesting. Didn’t see that coming as I typed.
June 1, 2012 at 7:07 am
If full circle it ever went, as Daniel fantasizes, some sort of Paleo diet would have to be adopted by all. When a person takes on a natural ancestral diet, minimalism is often embraced and anarchism is generally (I think) more accepted. Trashing all this shit and getting back to our roots, in some vein anyway, is really not so far fetched if people were to stop poisoning their bodies. What is far fetched is that, that people will stop poisoning their bodies.
June 1, 2012 at 7:46 pm
I was already a minimalist and anarchist before I went paleo but after my diet change I fully embraced my genetic heritage. So, I agree that the diet totally reinforces and solidifies this line of thought.
Despite what some people want to think, there is a certain mode of living that we need to abide by and modern life is completely discordant with it. J Stanton has written on this extensively. Gnolls.org is a great source of inspiration for the primal life and attitude. We really can’t have one without the other; the mental aspect is supremely important.
June 2, 2012 at 10:07 pm
Beautiful post!
Excerpt added to PaleoTerran.
June 5, 2012 at 10:31 pm
The very unfinished farm house which you described sounds wonderful. I am sure many people would like to escape modern living for a retreat in a place just like that. Roasting sun-dried coffee beans on the stove sure sounds better than turning the lid on a jar. The aromas must have been fantastic.
June 6, 2012 at 9:53 am
Yes, the aromas were fantastic. The coffee is layed out in the sun for several days where it slightly ferments. Not an incredibly simple process since it rains so much. All of the aromas on the farm are lovely.
It’s also nice to run into free ranging cows with walking through the jungle. Such a cool place. Julian’s dad has wanted to fix up a couple of guest rooms and invite vacationers. I wasn’t sure how pleased Americans would be with a place like that though. It is so rough. I had a day or so of culture shock. Nothing at all was the same. And no one spoke a word of English. Within a day or so, though, I felt like I was in heaven – minus the biting bugs and unbelievable heat I guess.
June 6, 2012 at 2:59 am
An amazing post Peggy! When I saw this in my inbox I was so excited to hear your thoughts! I think about this sort of thing too. My husband and I really want a homestead with everything as simple and as friendly as it can be to the earth. Yet at the same time I think to myself… man would I have some work ahead of me- caring for a garden, animals, children ( if I have some someday), and the house area… that is a lot to do! Especially if I want to make my own clothes, soaps, etc.
I have been experimenting with no lights/ electronics in use in my apartment for several hours each day, I knit or crochet ( working on a blanket and dish cloths)I have admit the silence is deafening sometimes… no music in the background…no noise from the tv ( I don’t have cable but I do have netflix). And of course no lights on- definitely different to have blinds open and windows ( though sometimes I cant handle the humidity and heat here in GA).
I am also a military spouse and during these intervals of no electronics allowed I realized how addicted I am to facebook! I stay in touch with all my family and friends via facebook… what the heck would I do without it? Sounds terrible right? Oh and of course my cell phone I have to talk to my grandma every day- there are some things I enjoy about the modern world ( especially the cell phone-my grandma recently had blood clots- if not for the phone I would have not been able to talk to her)
but I still long for something more simple more natural…I think people could do without all the products that are wasteful or toxic ( paper plates/goods, etc) I also think people are losing vital skills ( I know plenty of people who do not know how to cook- and this includes boxed foods! WTH!) and we need to reclaim those skills.
June 12, 2012 at 3:33 pm
I’ve recently been wondering about this, how modern and primal living can coexist. Just switching to a primal diet is enough to make you feel like you’ve been ripped right out of your culture. I think, though, that the answer for how to integrate lifestyles at both ends of the spectrum is in technology and advancement itself; I see progress as circular. We can develop technologies that don’t conflict with primal living and that facilitate it in fact. We just have to find ways to use technology in a way that is responsible toward ourselves and the earth. For example, electricity doesn’t have to be incompatible with primal, it just has to be used differently. The Masai use cellphones and the Amish use gas generators, and yet maintain their distinct cultures (though they are becoming increasingly eroded). Get a hold of a copy of the article “The Hunters: Scarce Resources in the Kalahari” by Richard Borshay Lee. It’s an anthropological study of the !Kung and finds that they have a decent amount of leisure time and not a lot of struggle to obtain food. This gives me hope that primal living and modern pastimes could be compatible. A great example of how the modern world aids primal living is coconut oil. Were this 10,000 BCE I wouldn’t be able to get this versatile substance in Ohio, but because it’s the 21st century, I can. Modern technology is helping me be primal. I’ve noticed that using a smartphone reduces the noise found on a computer and full websites – the mobile ones are usually simpler and more straight forward. I think that if we continue to push our creativity in technology, we can engineer a world in which you can have mathematical history lectures and freshly killed chickens on a remote farm in Colombia.