Consensual, natural, biológicos, ionizados...
o que todos somos.
Ressoo sensações vividas desde a infância em diversos caminhos, inclusive o descrito pelo Maarten.
Picadas ferindo a Terra, constrangendo a exuberância da vida ao redor, emaranhando-se em novelos urbanos onde a matéria substitui os corações que pulsavam na mata.
http://ideastobetakenbythewind.blogspot.com/2011/02/heaven-called-mata-altlantica-1.html
"I'm often ashamed to be human," I say to Valentine. My eyes are red of tears and my mind is numb of sheer disbelieve. We are driving from the beautiful fazenda of Valentines' grandfather near Sao Paulo to Serra Grande, Bahia. It's a three-day drive that takes us through the states of Sao Paulo, Minas Gerais and partly through the beautiful state of Bahia, Brasil. Valentine replies with equal emotion, but with a voice of resignation. She already knows. As far my eyes can see, I only see grasslands. Grassland with only some emaciated cattle scattered around. Grasslands with patches of red earth; earth on the verge of becoming dessert. This beautiful Brasilian soil finds it way to the roads and highways. It finds its way to the tires of cars, feet of the horses and to the shoes of people sauntering up the steep hills. It scrawls into the villages covering the houses, streets and squares. The blood red soil finds her way to the hands, feet and eyes of the people. Mother earth is bleeding and she makes it very clear.
Once, all this land was covered by what is called the 'Atlantic Forest' (Mata Atlantica). It is one of the most biodiverse forests covering our earth. And it was huge. It would cover the complete Atlantic coast of Brasil and as far inland as the eastern border with Paraguay. Clearly a treasure of immense proportions and human importance. But since the colonial times most of this forrest is systematically cleared for cattle, sugar cain and human settlements. Valentine also told me it was also deforested out of esthetic reasons:"Green fields are more beautiful than the forest where dangerous snakes live. They can bite and kill you."
I drove for three days. I looked and listened for three days but there was no considerable piece of forest left. I just could not believe it. It made me very sad and intensely angry at the same time. How can people be so indifferent and careless with what they are given? At the same time I realized that this war on the forest waged in a different time; a time in which people felt no other possibility than clearing the land and growing sugar cain and raising cattle. Just by means for survival. But when I heard there is still no ceasefire and the war just continues, except for some patches protected by UNESCO, my hart decided to stop for a while.
It only started beating again when I woke up atFazenda Juerana Milagrosa. A magical place at the Atlantic Ocean owned by Catharina and Zsolt Makray (Valentine's parents). A cacao farm that in fact contains a stretch of genuine Atlantic Forest. Deep in myself this line of an epic song by Pearl Jam reappeared once again:" I wish I was as fortunate, as fortunate as me." This immersion was intense and profound. Wandering through this dense forrest of threes stretching up over 100 meters, with trunks three meters across dating back long before any European set foot on these lands. Birds twittering stories with an intensity yet unknown to man. Ants marching, cutting and building like they're preparing themselves for the apocalipse. Monkeys shouting; bugs hissing and snakes looking up to see these strange foreign upright creatures; pondering for a while and then continuing there path into the unknown. I honestly felt it as a spiritual experience. To be surrounded by so much life in so many forms in so many colors and shapes. I couldn't help thinking that if Darwin would have arrived in Bahia and used the Atlantic Forrest as its object of research, his On the Origin of Species would have a different outcome. No struggle for life based on a notion where the most fittest creatures survive but a flowering of all life based on sheer abundance. The Atlantic Forest is often called ' The Green Hell'; I felt like I was visiting Heaving. I deem Heaving worth fighting for.
I also realized that I was struck by the deep power of experience. I already knew about the complete devastation of this forest, somewhere. I think I red an article once in the newspaper just before going to the market. After reading it, I swallowed once deeply; shouted in myself "how can they do that"; gulped down my last bit of coffee and went on to buy myself a nice Dutch herring. But now I am confronted with the facts. I see it, I smell it, I hear it, I feel it, I cry it and I shout it: I experience it. It is transforming. For me this transformation went along with a mantra of constantly repeating questions:"What is my responsibility in this issue?; what can I do to stop this?; Why do people do not realize that this 'game' it finite?; what have to happen to not only protect but also restore this forest?; can we find a model that actually makes a standing three economically more worth that a cut down tree replaced by grass for cattle? So on and so on.
Catharina and Zsolt are beacons of light in this tragic, but familiar story. Also Tamas Makray (the grandfather of Valentine) who is a pioneer in several reforestation projects.
Lets stop the madness of deforestation and start reforesting the world again!
If anyone who read this has some more links to share or questions to pose, please do so!
Check also: http://www.sosmatatlantica.org.br/
Maarten Asuncion, Paraguay
Once, all this land was covered by what is called the 'Atlantic Forest' (Mata Atlantica). It is one of the most biodiverse forests covering our earth. And it was huge. It would cover the complete Atlantic coast of Brasil and as far inland as the eastern border with Paraguay. Clearly a treasure of immense proportions and human importance. But since the colonial times most of this forrest is systematically cleared for cattle, sugar cain and human settlements. Valentine also told me it was also deforested out of esthetic reasons:"Green fields are more beautiful than the forest where dangerous snakes live. They can bite and kill you."
I drove for three days. I looked and listened for three days but there was no considerable piece of forest left. I just could not believe it. It made me very sad and intensely angry at the same time. How can people be so indifferent and careless with what they are given? At the same time I realized that this war on the forest waged in a different time; a time in which people felt no other possibility than clearing the land and growing sugar cain and raising cattle. Just by means for survival. But when I heard there is still no ceasefire and the war just continues, except for some patches protected by UNESCO, my hart decided to stop for a while.
It only started beating again when I woke up atFazenda Juerana Milagrosa. A magical place at the Atlantic Ocean owned by Catharina and Zsolt Makray (Valentine's parents). A cacao farm that in fact contains a stretch of genuine Atlantic Forest. Deep in myself this line of an epic song by Pearl Jam reappeared once again:" I wish I was as fortunate, as fortunate as me." This immersion was intense and profound. Wandering through this dense forrest of threes stretching up over 100 meters, with trunks three meters across dating back long before any European set foot on these lands. Birds twittering stories with an intensity yet unknown to man. Ants marching, cutting and building like they're preparing themselves for the apocalipse. Monkeys shouting; bugs hissing and snakes looking up to see these strange foreign upright creatures; pondering for a while and then continuing there path into the unknown. I honestly felt it as a spiritual experience. To be surrounded by so much life in so many forms in so many colors and shapes. I couldn't help thinking that if Darwin would have arrived in Bahia and used the Atlantic Forrest as its object of research, his On the Origin of Species would have a different outcome. No struggle for life based on a notion where the most fittest creatures survive but a flowering of all life based on sheer abundance. The Atlantic Forest is often called ' The Green Hell'; I felt like I was visiting Heaving. I deem Heaving worth fighting for.
I also realized that I was struck by the deep power of experience. I already knew about the complete devastation of this forest, somewhere. I think I red an article once in the newspaper just before going to the market. After reading it, I swallowed once deeply; shouted in myself "how can they do that"; gulped down my last bit of coffee and went on to buy myself a nice Dutch herring. But now I am confronted with the facts. I see it, I smell it, I hear it, I feel it, I cry it and I shout it: I experience it. It is transforming. For me this transformation went along with a mantra of constantly repeating questions:"What is my responsibility in this issue?; what can I do to stop this?; Why do people do not realize that this 'game' it finite?; what have to happen to not only protect but also restore this forest?; can we find a model that actually makes a standing three economically more worth that a cut down tree replaced by grass for cattle? So on and so on.
Catharina and Zsolt are beacons of light in this tragic, but familiar story. Also Tamas Makray (the grandfather of Valentine) who is a pioneer in several reforestation projects.
Lets stop the madness of deforestation and start reforesting the world again!
If anyone who read this has some more links to share or questions to pose, please do so!
Check also: http://www.sosmatatlantica.org.br/
Maarten Asuncion, Paraguay
- Maarten
Hope that young people with such sensibility as you have, will do the changes that is necessary in the world. I feel happy to know that we are not alone in this battle so save our "nature" in all senses... - Much ligth for you!
- Catarina
