Long Story Short

Well, long story short, Christine and I moved into the house with 13 roof rafters sometime in November 2007, once all major construction had ceased, the floors were sealed and most of the walls were covered from the inside. I had been working on the house practically alone since June 2007 when our dear friends Loreto, Jorge, and Horacio had to head back to Santiago, but help always appeared for the more difficult passes: Christine, Marcelo, and Chayito assisting on the most stubborn windows, Erin tackling the sub-floor, Anita and Teri stuffing insulation while Christine and I developed a rhythm for interior paneling (foro), and of course Moises ever teaching and guiding each pass when he could come up. We inagurated the house with a fine half keg of Torobayo and much merriment among friends and family, toasts to all those present and not just before heading North for the winter holidays.

Upon our return, we celebrated the beginning of a new cycle of 12 in the Chinese calendar, welcoming the Year of the Rat with Christine's family present, all of us snuggly in the new house. Recalling our ancestors and all the magicians that have walked before us in this forest throughout history and for all those that will walk these paths after us, we named the land Los Brujos under a strange and beautiful eclipse of the full moon in February 2008.

The last important detail, the house hearth, in this case a black wood-burning stove from Temuco, arrived in March 2008 as Summer headed toward Autumn and the chimney popped out of the roof in April 2008, just in time for the first rains. We have been warm and dry ever since. The finer details of sealing all the windows and making the house a home have been and will continue to be in process, but such is home-ownership I am told.

As for the house's name, we have adopted the symbol of the Mayan integer 13: ruler of the lunar cycles, feminine energy and transformation. Fittingly, the symbol is painted on an abandoned pine disc from the plantation across the street, rescued as the pines came down and our first beams were being erected.

And the transformations continue, as always, Los Brujos ever growing, construction projects in the works, new creatures invited to stay as we strive toward the dream of self-sustainability, creativity, freedom and love.

Los Tijerales

The celebration of a roof raising is a sacred event in many cultures and in Chile Los Tijerales are a great excuse to get together with the friends you haven´t had a chance to see while you were busy working on your house and also to thank those close friends who have supported you day in and day out. Instead of a traditional barbeque, we served fish with empanadas del horno and toasted much beer to our three passionate flags handing from the highest part of the roof: gay pride, aliens, and la patria. Also, Marcelo invited two of his students, volunteer teachers from Japan, who shared the Japanese tradition of throwing candies from the roof to bless the house. A good time was had by all and the sun shined gloriously. May our roof be blessed and now for the rest of the house.

Roof Raised and the Pines Start Coming Down

The day of San Jorge, we finished installing the principle roof of the second cabin during a brief break in the clouds, the last nails pounded in as the wind shifted from South to North, the mist returning to rain. We paused to reflect in the work done in little less than a month’s time without electricity, impressed at how our muscles had grown and our luck in learning new skills, but also a little daunted by the remaining tasks at hand. As if plaguing our thoughts, that same night the chainsaws in the pine plantations crept closer than ever before, tearing holes in the night with the shattering of trees and the grinding of machinery in the darkness.

Rafters and Rain

After a weekend of heavy lifting and overcoming the fear of heights, 13 roof rafters were finally in place and the second cabin began to take real shape, but the return of Autumn rain sent us in a rush to cover the whole structure with plastic sheeting, creating a bizarre scene in the forest reminiscent of NASA’s invasion of Elliott’s house in the movie E.T. Still, only a slight set-back as there are always support beams to attach and walls to finalize under the plastic.

And the stray dog that followed Christine home from the busstop some weeks ago and who we have come to know as Trigo (for his wheat-like color), was finally granted the permission to stay, even though he did participate in the eating of our baby ducks. El Bosque continues to teach us many lessons in patience and understanding.

Septic Ready

We welcomed Loreto back from her quick visit to Santiago, where she put her house up for sale, with a new and fully operational septic system. Thank you, Chayito! Once again we could return to washing the dishes inside the cabin and flushing the toilet, though Rocky insists on continuing the family tradition of “making protests” in the pine plantation across the street (good dog). The remarkably sunny weather continued and we plugged away at the second cabin supports and scaffolding, (with the amazingly precise aid of a new hand saw that really shows the difference of having good tools; thank you Bahco of Sweden!) hoping to get the roof in place before the more typical rains of Autumn return.

Feliz Cumpleaños Carlitos

The first vertical beams, to become the front porch supports, were lifted into place on the second cabin and we began leveling concrete footers for the “extension,” which, should all go well, will contain the bathroom and a small sunroom for Christine to study in the morning light. It was also the 10th birthday of dear Carlitos, Marcelo and Queno making a trip to Los Molinos in the late afternoon to wish our shamanic friend many happy returns of the day. Feliz Cumpleaños, Carlitos!

Major Construction Begins

The day of ground-breakings: we began digging 15 holes for the second cabin’s main concrete footers and Chayito beginning the arduous task of installing a new septic and drainage system for the original cabin. Earth and clay, roots and stones uplifted with care (always asking permission from the forest) as the foundations began to take form.

St. Patrick's Day en El Bosque

We ushered in St. Patrick’s Day with the arrival of our first international guest, dear and near-sister Erin, who taught us all the importance of drink and merriment to wash away water and septic woes. With a toast to the Leprechauns and a shout of joy, water began flowing through our cabin pipes from our newly filling water tower, all made possible by the hard work of Chayito, Marcelo and Jorge, and the generosity of our neighbors Yvette and her son Jean Paul, who last month gave us permission to tap into the excess water pumped through their system until we can begin pumping from our own sacred stream (a project best reserved for Spring weather and hopefully the expertise that time will offer us by then).

Also, the night before we celebrated in Valdivia to the music of Los Jaivas and the dance of the Kari Kari group of Rapa Nui as Valdivia officially became the capital city of the new 14th Region of Chile: el Region de los Ríos. Que lindo Valdivia!

Realizing the Dream or the Dream Realizing Us

Long story short... In the course of January vacations State-side, Christine and I found out that we were to be evicted from our fishing village home on the account that our landlords' daughter announced her wedding for February and our dear neighbors wanted to gift her our house (of course we were still invited to the wedding). In our rush to return home to pack and move and to figure out where to, Christine's grandfather passed away suddenly and we delayed our return nearly another 2 weeks. Asking the Universe what all the chaos meant, we already knew in our hearts that we had to leave our fishing village, that it was our destiny to plunge ourselves into the dream of being on our own land. Stained glass tokens of Grandpa French in tow, we decided to pursue the sustainable path immediately, carrying the energy of our ancestors with us in the hopes that the combined effort of dreams past and present might help us realize a new life in el Bosque. The Universe was convinced we were ready so why resist?

We arrived to the reality that the cabin in el Bosque had been broken into since our December visit, pipes connecting the rainwater system broken, the kitchen sink and gas stove stolen, and the wood-burning stove, though still there, lacking its chimney. But, thankfully, we were not alone in our quest for the sustainable path, Rocky our old dog friend from the coast joining us, followed shortly by a seemingly multitude of perfectly timed February guests (Marcelo’s sobrinas Judi Helen and Mariel our first angels in disguise to arrive) all eager to help us paint, varnish, clean, and construct the basic water and waste systems necessary to turn the forest, with its initially alien-like inhabitants and habits, into a home we more readily recognized or at least accustomed ourselves to.

Our greatest gifts arrived just after the Chinese Lunar New Year welcoming in the Year of the Boar: the expansion of our family to include Jorge, Loreto, and their son Horacio, accepting our invitation to join us in our adventurous pursuit of a sustainable life in the forest, moving from Santiago to do so, and providing more balance to our chaos than they can possibly ever know. And of course the near-adoption of Marcelo's father Chayito, our expert plumber keen on supervising the construction of a water tower and a new septic system, and dear Moises, who agreed to act as our guide in building a second house on the property, all by hand, the old-fashioned way.

At every turn and obstacle of the beginning weeks, we discovered a guide to lead us, teach us, show us a better way. And it is no mere coincidence that the land where we live, the forgotten forest, lacks a name save el Camino al Kaman, translated from the language of the Mapuche people to be "the way to a guide.” Living literally on the road to a guide is certainly not without its challenges, frustrations, and wayward obstacles, but it is also an incredible existence of inspiration and creation, that a friend once put it, “in the way that humans are meant to be challenged.” I heartily agree, but ask me again next month when and if the septic system is up and running.

The Dream: El Bosque

The day that the former Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet passed away, we were far from the chaotic bombardment of news clips and sensationalism as frustrated activists and military-conservatives battled for the airwaves infront of La Moneda. Instead we enjoyed an afternoon picnic in the forest with our young, shamanic friend Carlitos, dreaming of whether this mountainside retreat just south of Valdivia was finally the land we had been looking for. The dream, as we have come to call it, is to live more sustainably with the natural environment, building a home and maybe an artist family while raising chickens and planting potatoes. We had been spending our weekends these past months searching out properties along the coastal mountain range, thwarted again and again by prices and accessibility or strange indigenous land-use laws written only for large forest companies to pillage the last remaining stands of olvillo, coihue, and ulmo, the same stands we want to live among, to protect and be protected by. This site was too small, that one too far to reach by bus for daily commutes to the University or Queno's clothing design workshop... we struggled with whether our list of requirements for trees, water, and sky would ever be met. Dream-realizing, it seems, is a tricky business of being in the right place at the right time, following signs and having plenty of patience.

And then our friend Moises (Moses in Spanish), offered us the chance to visit his land in a regenerating native forest (clear-cut about 15 years ago, but growing back very healthily) where he had been keeping his honey bees among the flowering ulmo trees. He and his brother, Lalo, had been thinking of selling the land, hoping to relocate their bees closer to the coast where they spend most days and nights running the general stores in our fishing village. Four years ago they had bought the 4.5 hectares (about 11 acres) of temperate rainforest now springing back to life among the mountain slopes just south of Valdivia, an island of native forest in a plague of foreign pine plantations, and had built a small cabin there all by hand without electricity; the hope being that they could protect at least a small portion of native forest from the forest company chainsaws. Naturally, in selling the land, the brothers wanted to be certain that the new stewards would follow in the same tradition of respect for the natural environment and of course, the challenge is precisely what we are looking for.

So, that sunny afternoon while Santiago erupted in tear gas and the televisions continuously looped the same pathetic displays of conservative worship for the passing of a man whose most memorable achievements include the authorization of thousands of secret kidnappings, detainments, torture and death, we, on the other hand, innocently unaware, visited with hummingbirds, wandered the forest, drank from the mountain streams, and sat in silence taking in the vistas of the mountain ranges that mark the south of Chile, following the clouds and passing flocks of parrots overhead. And in one afternoon it was decided to accept the offerings of fate, the chance friendships and paths that had led us to a small fishing village two years ago and now to a forgotten patch of forest a little further south and a little more remote, with just enough space to begin realizing the dream of becoming part of El Bosque.

That evening, heading back to the coast, we toasted the death of the dictator and the beginning of a new path toward peaceful living among the trees. What challenges await us, we can only imagine, but the dream is already in motion, moving from conversation to realization, concrete in the faith (blind as it is) that we are ready for this next adventure.