More than two years ago I emerged into a new world, one of which no pictures had been drawn yet. All these new smells and smiles, these faces and hearts, those doors and knobs would soon form a deeper meaning, one that today I associate with community, warmths and home. My journey has always drawn me to these desolate places for some reason, where people live simply and in harmony with Mother Nature, deeply connected while living with all their hearts.
I listened to stories about a land that has been taken care of by our ancestors, land of the free and the brave, who they were once called. Those guardians of the Earth that are still taking care of water and soil with all their heart to transfer it to their children as it was given to them by their parents and grandparents, each generation is only taking what they need. Some of their stories left me speechless, some many made me smile, others brought me to tears. All of them, stories from people that see themselves as caretakers of the Earth, not owners. Terms which we often confuse while assuming money enables us to dictate direction and ownership over both, land and its people. Modern day colonization which often lets us forget that we are only here on this planet for a short amount of time and therefore should strive to make a positive impact. Something I have to remind myself while being back in our Western world.
I came back to a wasteful world which wraps fresh produce in plastics and places them nicely on the shelves. A world in which no-one wonders what these Ecuadorian banana farmers earn, those Peruvian chocolate farmers, the Colombian coffee farmers, the Indian dressmakers, and so on and how they are treated. All of them humans, which selflessly invited me into their homes and shared all they had despite knowing my people don't pay better wages because they prefer cheap products.
A world where I know change is happening as people like you and me do question and begin to consume more consciously.