This hunter is a member of the Waorani community, an Amazonian indigenous people who live in eastern Ecuador. Credit: Courtesy Nicolas Villaume, Land is Life

By Stephen Leahy
UXBRIDGE, Canada, May 8 2015 (IPS)

In the course of human history many tens of thousands of communities have survived and thrived for hundreds, even thousands, of years. Scores of these largely self-sustaining traditional communities continue to this day in remote jungles, forests, mountains, deserts, and in the icy regions of the North. A few remain completely isolated from modern society.

According to United Nations estimates, upwards of 370 million indigenous people are spread out over 70 countries worldwide. Between them, they speak over 5,000 languages.

“Living well is all about keeping good relations with Mother Earth and not living by domination or extraction." -- Victoria Tauli Corpuz, the U.N. Special Rapporteur on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples
But as the fingers of economic development reach into ever more distant corners of the globe, many of these communities find themselves – and their way of life – under threat.

The march of progress means that efforts are being made both to extract the resources on which these communities rely and to ‘mainstream’ indigenous groups by introducing Western medical, educational and economic systems into traditional ways of life.

“There are two uncontacted communities near my home but there is the threat of oil exploration. They don’t want this. For them, taking the oil out of the ground is like taking blood out of their bodies,” Moi Enomenga, a Waorani who was born into an uncontacted community, told IPS.

The Waorani are an Amazonian indigenous people who live in eastern Ecuador, in an area of oil drilling activity. No one knows how long they existed before the first encounter with Europeans in the late 1600s.

“Indigenous peoples will continue to work in our communities to strengthen our cultures and resist exploitation of our territories,” Enomenga stressed.

Although Ecuador has ratified the U.N. Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, which grants communities the right to consultation on extractive projects that impact their customary land, organisations say that mining and oil drilling projects have cast doubt on the government’s commitment to uphold these rights, and spurred protests by indigenous peoples.

Ecovillages: a step towards an indigenous lifestyle

Despite their long history all indigenous and local communities are under intense pressure to be part a globalised economic system that offers some benefits but too often destroys their land and culture.

The village of Ustupu in the semi-autonomous Kuna Territory located in the San Blas Archipelago of eastern Panama, points to a simple, sustainable way of life. Credit: Nicolas Villaume, Land is Life

Worse, it’s a system that is unsustainable, and has produced global threats including climate change, and biodiversity crises.

In the past four decades alone, the numbers of animals, birds, reptiles and fish on the Earth has declined 52 percent; 95 percent of coral reefs are in danger of dying out due to pollution, coastal development and overfishing; and only 15 percent of the world’s forests remain intact.

The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) estimates that greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions due to human activity have increased the global average temperature 0.85 degrees Celsius and will go much higher, threatening human civilization unless emissions are sharply reduced.

Modern western culture has only been in existence some 200 years and it’s clearly unsustainable, according to Lee Davies, a board member of the Global Ecovillage Network (GEN).

For 20 years GEN has helped thousands of villages, urban neighbourhoods and intentional communities live better and lighter on the Earth.

“Traditional indigenous communities offer the best example of sustainability we have,” Davies said in an interview with IPS.

GEN communities have high quality, low impact ways of living with some of the lowest per capita carbon footprints in the industrialised world.

Findhorn Ecovillage in the United Kingdom is one of the best known and has half the ecological footprint of the UK national average.

It includes 100 ecologically-benign buildings, supplies energy from four wind turbines, and features solar water heating, a biological Living Machine waste water treatment system and a car-sharing club that includes electric vehicles and more.

Carbon neutral eco-houses at the Findhorn Ecovillage in Scotland provide an example of communities modeling their lifestyle on indigenous peoples. Credit: Courtesy Findhorn Foundation

Ecovillages aren’t about technology. They are locally owned, socially conscious communities using participatory ways to enhance the spiritual, social, ecological and economic aspects of life.

Senegal has 45 ecovillages and recently launched an ambitious effort to turn more than 14,000 villages into ecovillages with full community participation.

Among its members, GEN counts the Sri Lankan organisation Sarvodaya, a rural network that includes 2,000 active sustainable villages in the island nation of 20 million people.

“This is all about finding ways for humanity to survive. Much of this is a return to the values and practices of indigenous peoples,” Davies said.

Simple communities, not big development projects

Life is hard for mountain-dwelling communities, especially as the impacts of climate change become more and more apparent, according to Matthew Tauli, a member of the indigenous Kankana-ey Igorot community in the mountainous region of the Philippines.

“We need small, simple things, not big economic development projects like big dams or mining projects,” Tauli told IPS.

The Philippines is home to an estimated 14-17 million indigenous people belonging to 110 ethno-linguistic groups, accounting for nearly 17 percent of the population of 98 million people. A huge number of these peoples face threats to their traditional ways of life, particularly as a result of forcible displacement from, or destruction of, their ancestral lands, according to the United Nations.

As everywhere in the world, communities from the Northern Luzon, the most populous island in the Philippines, to Mindanao, a large island in the south, are fighting hard to resist destructive forms of development.

Their struggles find echo in other parts of the region, particular in countries like India, home to 107 million tribal people, referred to locally as Adivasis.

“We resisted the government’s efforts to make us grow plantations and plant the same crops over wide areas,” K. Pandu Dora, an Adivasi from the Indian state of Andhra Pradesh, told IPS.

Andhra Pradesh is home to over 49 million people. According to the 2011 census, scheduled tribes constituted 5.3 percent of the total population, amounting to just under three million people.

Dora’s people live on hilltops in forests where they practice shifting cultivation, working intimately with the cycles of nature.

Neighbouring tribes that followed government experts’ advice to adopt modern agricultural methods with chemical fertilisers and monocultures are suffering terribly, Dora said through a translator.

With over 70 percent of the state’s tribal and farming communities living below the poverty line, unsustainable agricultural practices represent a potential disaster for millions of people.

Already, climate change is wreaking havoc on planting and harvesting practices, disrupting the natural cycles that rural communities are accustomed to.

Unlike the farmers stuck in government-sponsored programmes, however, Dora’s people have responded by increasing the diversity of their crops, and remain confident in their capacity to innovate.

“We will find our own answers,” he said.

In drought-stricken Kenya, small farmers who relied on a diverse selection of crops continue to do well according to Patrick Mangu, an ethnobotanist at the Nairobi National Museum of Kenya.

“Mrs. Kimonyi is never hungry,” Mangu told IPS as he described a local farmer’s one-hectare plot of land, which has 57 varieties planted in a mix of cereals, legumes, roots, tubers, fruit and herbs.

It is this diversity, mainly from local varieties that produced edible products virtually every day of the year, that have buffered Kimonyi from the impacts of drought, he said.

Nearly half of Kenya’s 44 million people live below the poverty line, the vast majority of them in rural areas of the central and western regions of the country.

Embracing traditional farming methods could play a huge role in improving incomes, health and food security across the country’s vast agricultural belt, but the government has yet to make a move in this direction.

Protecting the people who protect the Earth

Traditional knowledge and a holistic culture is a key part of the longevity of many indigenous peoples. The Quechua communities in the Cuzco region of southern Peru, for instance, have used their customary laws to manage more than 2,000 varieties of potatoes.

“To have potatoes, there must be land, people to work it, a culture to support the people, Mother Earth and the mountain gods,” Alejandro Argumedo, a program director at the Quechua-Aymara Association for Nature and Sustainable Development (ANDES), told IPS.

The communities developed their own agreement for sharing the benefits derived from these crops, based on traditional principles. Potatoes are more than food; they are a cultural symbol and important to all aspects of life for the Quechua, said Argumedo.

But preserving this way of life is no easy undertaking in Peru, where 632 native communities lack the titles to their land.

For Mexican Zapotec indigenous communities located in the Sierra Norte Mountains of central Mexico, there is no private property.

Rather than operating their community-owned forest industry to maximise profits, the Zapotec communities focus on job creation, reducing emigration to cities and enhancing the overall wellbeing of the community.

Protecting and managing their forestlands for many generations into the future is considered part of the community obligation.

Local people run virtually everything in the community as part of their ‘duties’ as community members. This includes being part of administration, neighbourhood, school and church committees, performing all vital roles from community policeman to municipal president.

What makes this all work is communal trust, deeply shared values that arise from long experience and knowledge, said David Barton Bray, a professor at Florida International University in Miami.

“These kinds of communities will be more important in the years to come because they can address vital issues that the state and the market cannot,” Bray told IPS back in 2010.

Around the world the best-protected forests are under the care of indigenous peoples, said Estebancio Castro Diaz of the Kuna Nation in southeastern Panama. More than 90 percent of the forests controlled by the Kuna people, for instance, are still standing.

This does not hold true for the rest of Panama, which lost over 14 percent of its forest cover in just two decades, between 1990 and 2010.

“The forest is a supermarket for us, it is not just about timber. There are also broad benefits to the larger society for local control of forests,” Diaz said.

Since trees absorb climate-heating carbon dioxide, healthy forests represent an important tool in fighting climate change. Forests under control of local peoples absorb 37 billion tonnes of CO2 a year, Victoria Tauli Corpuz, the U.N. Special Rapporteur on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, told IPS.

“In Guatemala forests managed by local people have 20 times less deforestation than those managed by the state, in Brazil it is 11 times lower,” said Tauli Corpuz.

However many governments neither recognise indigenous land tenure rights nor their traditional ways of managing forests, she added.

Moi Enomenga, a Waorani leader from Ecuador, was born into an uncontacted community. Credit: Courtesy Brian Keane, Land is Life

The overarching issue when it comes to dealing with climate change, biodiversity loss and living sustainably requires changing the current economic system that was created to dominate and extract resources from nature, she asserted.

“Modern education and knowledge is mainly about how to better dominate nature. It is never about how to live harmoniously with nature.

“Living well is all about keeping good relations with Mother Earth and not living by domination or extraction,” she concluded.

Edited by Kanya D’Almeida

Ecovillages, where people grow their own produce and live sustainably with nature, are mushrooming across Argentina. Credit: Natalia Ruiz Díaz/IPS

By Marcela Valente
BUENOS AIRES, Feb 14 2013 (IPS)

Almost imperceptibly, sustainable settlements that combine community living with the preservation of natural resources have mushroomed across Argentina as an alternative to rampant consumerism.

Ecovillages, where people grow their own produce in community gardens and live sustainably in close contact with nature, are a growing trend in the provinces of Buenos Aires, Santa Fe and Misiones (east and northeast), Córdoba (centre-north), Catamarca (northwest), San Luis (west), Río Negro (south), and even in the capital city of Buenos Aires.

Some of these initiatives — which operate as living laboratories — have sprung from successful family projects that planted the seed of an eco-friendly community. Others started out as an idea conceived by a group of friends who share a common worldview.

“It’s sort of like regaining your freedom,” said Tania Giuliani, a biologist with a Master’s degree in sustainable development who is participating in the establishment of a new ecovillage on an island in the district of El Tigre, on the last stretch of the Paraná Delta, in northeastern Buenos Aires.

"People live solitary and materialistic lives, working all day, coming home to an apartment and buying chemical-laden foods... (Moving to an ecovillage) doesn't mean going back to the Stone Age; it's about recovering the capacity to make our own decisions."
Giuliani has not given up her teaching position in Buenos Aires but, even though the project is still in the early stages, she left her apartment in the city and moved to the island so she can work on her house.

The project is called ‘i-tekoa’ (which means “water village” in Guarani) and in addition to Giuliani it involves seven other friends who decided to embrace this alternative way of life. A total of eight houses will be built using natural materials found on the land and based on designs in harmony with the marshland environment.

The group also to plans to erect a community centre to hold art, gardening and permaculture workshops.

Permaculture — a contraction of “permanent agriculture” or “permanent culture” — originated in the 1970s in Australia and “involves designing sustainable development models where people can live in harmony with nature”, Carlos Straub told Tierramérica.

Straub was among the first to introduce permaculture in Argentina back in the 1990s, along with the founders of Gaia, the first ecovillage in the country, which has operated since 1996 in the Navarro district of the province of Buenos Aires.

Gaia consists of cottages built with natural materials and it houses the Argentine Institute of Permaculture, which offers training workshops for anyone interested in replicating this experience.

Workshop participants are taught the basics of organic cooking, eco-farming, seed production, natural building techniques, renewable energy and alternatives for sustainable sanitation and community living.

Building a house in the i-tekoa ecovillage. Credit: Courtesy of i-tekoa.

Gaia is part of the Global Ecovillage Network (GEN) that connects thousands of similar initiatives.

Straub is currently the head of Cidep (Centro de Investigación, Desarrollo y Enseñanza de la Permacultura), a permaculture research and teaching centre, located on a small farm near El Bolsón, in the southwest province of Río Negro, which has offered workshops since 2004.

Twenty families are establishing a new ecovillage next to Cidep’s facilities, which provide temporary shelter for eight members of the project while they build their houses.

Straub also teaches courses in different communities in the Patagonia region, both in Argentina and Chile.

“There’s a very large movement of people migrating away from cities and looking to purchase land with others for initiatives like this,” he said.

Before starting the i-tekoa project, Giuliani lived in an ecovillage in New Zealand. For her, capitalism imposes an individualistic, consumerist and anti-natural way of life that people are increasingly turning away from.

“People live solitary and materialistic lives, working all day, coming home to an apartment and buying chemical-laden foods,” she told Tierramérica.

She joined a group of friends who were as unhappy as she was with their way of life and bought a plot of land where they are now building their houses and a community centre. The buildings are being constructed without filling or drying the plot, which is marshland, so as to preserve the natural purification role played by wetlands.

Non-native trees are being cut down and their wood used to build the houses. Native species will be planted in their place. Project participants are still debating whether to use dry toilets or biodigesters as a sewage treatment solution.

“Living solely off the land seems a bit idealistic. Our goal is to live off what we produce in our gardens and (the money we raise in) the centre’s workshops, and gradually, if we can, we’ll give up our jobs in the city,” Giuliani said.

According to Straub, ecovillages are multiplying as a reaction against a way of living that is exhausted. “People want a simpler life that will allow them to fulfil old dreams without having to wait until they retire,” he said.

“It’s not about going back to primitive times or the Stone Age; it’s about recovering the capacity to make our own decisions. Ecovillages may not be the solution for everyone, but the project helps bring back a more humane way of looking at life,” he added.

The idea is to “change our perspective. The miracle has to occur within us, and if that happens it doesn’t matter whether you live in an ecovillage or in the middle of the city, what matters is that your life is not governed by the system,” Straub said.

Straub himself lives 15 kilometres from Cidep, in El Bolsón, and is not sure he wants to live in an ecovillage. But he does believe he can play a role in the process as seed producer.

Most importantly, he says, more and more people are choosing to go down this road. “When I started in Gaia there was only 15 or 20 of us, but at an event I attended recently there were 500 other people who had joined this experience.”

*This article was originally published on Feb. 9 by the Latin American network of newspapers Tierramérica.