Jay Livingston & Ray Evans, Bonanza Theme Song

Traveling towards sustainability is such a giant trip towards the unknown. It has a different face and a different language. It requires a certain learning curve especially on your consciousness: every action you make has a direct repercussion on a small ecosystem.

This is Grupedsac in Coatecas Altas, Oaxaca. An ecological center developed for the nearby communities with the sole purpose of learning eco-technologies and sustainable practices. We are here because they have a great project that requires new ways of funding their work in this dry, harsh environment.

The whole center is 40% sustainable, this means their buildings, food, energy and water practices are set into making this place live in harmony with their surroundings. The way it works is the following:

The communities that are close by sign up at the Municipality and get invited to the ITT Center, better known as Bonanza. They then, bring these families to the center where they stay for a few days, as they live and learn about different technologies.

If you asked me if I knew there could be such a project here in Oaxaca, I would have never thought it was possible. Not in Oaxaca. In the northern states it would have made sense, but never in the south. The abandoned south of the Mexican countryside.

After a long trip, we got several quick instructions of how to use the dry bathrooms, the electricity to charge our gadgets and the showers in the morning. To our students, their documentation job has already started. To everyone of us, the way we have to pee, the way we have to use the water, the way we have to think about electricity seems so restricted, confined, determined, even irreversible. 

The way here is treacherous, full of bumps and rocks. The night has fallen upon us and it feels, as the sun dies, the curtain of civilization closes behind it. Far away, Trump yells while raising his finger and discoveries of the Universe happen everywhere but not in this lone terrain.

A slight apprehension takes over my heart. On our way here, men in horses closed the 135D road, close to Nochixtlán. Federal policemen, were by the road and above the bridge in a tense encounter that thankfully, did not last for long. Oaxaca has always felt like a match about to burn. 

Dogs bark, roosters keep singing at night, and I wonder how this center has become a safe haven amongst the country’s oblivion.