An emotional breakdown, a bend-over fingernail, a war against the jungle and as of today, also an anxiety attack - my new garden at Pandala has its shares of events. On the positive side: Delicious avocados, a swing, a climbing rope and finally, finally clients visiting, eating, and being convinced of the potential that this gem in the middle of Cotacachi has.
What I'd do if I wouldn't be allowed to garden anymore?
Big question. First, feel less guilty as I wouldn't be neglecting it. Second, freak out. That sums it up.
There's a reason why I prefer my businesses to have gardens attached. Neither a restaurant nor a café should just be a place of pure consumerism, but a spot where you can sit down and come down. And a garden helps with that. Nature helps with that. It's so hard to get out of town, even in a small town. Touching the grass, the tree, earth, smelling the scents of fruit and flowers, picking a blackberry, savoring it, having the kids occupied getting dirty in sand and on branches (gotta install a dust-off-area...), just breathing for a moment. I had an anxiety attack today, in that garden, randomly, first after a very long time, due to everything that is going on in my life, overwhelming me so suddenly. And I was able to get it under control so quickly, walking around the bushes, inhaling, exhaling. Though Mr. K was very worried, it was very encouraging for me how fast I got it under control.
A garden is "out". A patch of coexistence between humans and nature. It's not the pressure of society anymore, nor is it the wildness of nature. No beast of neither kind, but kind, kind it is to me. Even if I'm not gardening, but working in the garden, fixing that not-cursed-anymore-door with a good friend. His presence helped, I guess, is an incredibly calming presence. A tree himself.
The Kichwa word for a garden or a field is "chakra". A place you cultivate. Physical here, but like the metaphysical twin in Hinduism. You have to keep working on them. It forfeits it's purpose if you abandon it.
If it was just me not being allowed to garden anymore - I'd pay someone to do it for me. Or find another loophole. They're always there, all around, and "paying someone" has many spheres. I wouldn't abandon my gardens, just as if I would never abandon cultivating my Self.
As I told my daughter when she was afraid of being separated again: I will find a way. Always. Just like Johnny Cash in his NiN cover:
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
I will. Always.
Back to the potential. It has to be harvested. There is SO much to do still, and so little time. But we're working on it, more and more like a team, and that feels quite good.
Mr. K, the owner, and I fixed the door today. A big fix. In Summer, the door shrank like 4cm and the lock didn't close anymore. So we added wood to the sides. In Winter, it bloated those 4cm again. It was a door with two sides. Instead of getting that out (it has a beautiful painting as you can see), we decided to risk it and put them together into one. Doors of Pandala, UNITE!
Against all odds, and probably thanks to knocking on wood around 1000 times each hour, it went like a charm. The result is working perfectly, and the first gate towards what is going to be a paradise of plants is therefore secure and secured.
As I was overwhelmed with work, by gardener friend Jesús came on Saturday and did everything that I couldn't get done. He's the most modest person, charges way too little and is then kind of hesitant when I insist on buying him at least lunch. It kind of feels like being a sadist when I pay him bonuses for Christmas or in September. But I prefer it this way then the other way around. And he does a good job.
As mentioned, the first swing is set. Unfortunately, it's not super effective, as the branch it is secured upon gives a counter to the swing. Trees being alive and flexible and adaptable and such, great for survival of the fittest, but not for kids wanting to swing into the stars. Too bad for the kids, the tree is definitely in advantage here because it gives the absolute BEST avocados. The ones that are deep green, and when harvested at the right time, get those dark spots on them. The fruit flesh is almost yellow, incredibly creamy and SO tasty...
Something you can only know if you live in an area with avocado. Because that only happens if you get them 1-3 days before they'd fall down on their own. When they're perfectly ripe. And no import/export product can achieve that, ever. Impossible. That's why most cherries, plums, apples, pears and all those amazing things that grow in Germany taste like... well, let's say that here in #ecuador, they taste like bananas in Germany. Okay, but not comparable.
There's still so much to do. Months of work left, also thanks to the huge strike, but mainly because of the apparently cultural inefficiency and unreliability of humans here. It's one of the most important lessons I learned - hold on tight to those who keep their word, even if they charge a little extra to do so. We have limited time and energy, and in our sphere of business capability and stability, it's absolutely worth paying a little extra to preserve our mental sanity.
The tables were 2cm higher than expected, and that made it impossible to cross them through the regular doors. 2cm. How's that for a life lesson? Anyway, it's a small town, our neighbors are cool, so we just got the tables over their terrace. Quicker than taking the antique inner doors out - they are nailed, not screwed, which made us screwed.
Further back in time, the days after my last post. I took the challenge to get all the lawn mowed by hand. I figured out how to set the thing higher, and it was kind of surprising how it went.
That's it for now. It's been a great week so far, and hopefully more to come. So much going on. I'm used to being swamped, but life always finds a way to test my limits. And, the stoic I am, I just smile and push those limits a little further. Until I rule the world, maybe. If you keep letting me garden.
Please feel free to engage in any original way, including dropping links to your posts on similar topics. I'm happy to read (and curate) any quality content that is not created by LLM/AI.
What a superb post. I think many gardeners would agree that a garden is about connection to not only earth, but to self and others. Having a garden as part of a restaurant is the ultimate in connecting, no?
I love this. I had to research further. I love that it's not just the noun for field but also about connecting to family via nourishing the land and in turn being nourished BY it. We can lack that in western culture, or we have forgotten it. People like you or I are determined to get that back. It's like some ancestral DNA that is also an imperative - we MUST garden because deep down we know it's important on so many levels.
Avo season here is GOOD. We are down south so don't get them locally but still, Aussies pride ourselves on our avo supply. Vegemite and avocado on toast, yes please. I can taste the creaminess now. But right now it's mango season. My other favourite, but terrible with Vegemite. ;p
The Kichwa culture has (or had) a deep connection to nature, and a very strong sense of community. It's something that us individualist can learn a lot from, though it is hard to understand sometimes. Much of the culture was lost, unfortunately, like so many - individualism has that flair of being better, easier. Community is hard work, individualism is not. I would love to have a couple of high beds for community gardening there. But later.
That famous Vegemite... Galen just wrote about it the other day. I think I tried it once, but apparently it didn't conquer me, as I never bought it. It's not available here, but was in Germany, though hard to find.
I really like the artwork on that door! And you did a good job saving it by joining the halves of the door together! Brilliant! 😃 I could almost eat my weight in avocados; how wonderful to have a tree in one's back yard! 😋