The Slow Andean Shuffle
Set your own pace - just bring a machete and some beef tallow.
As the sun begins to show itself through the rises and falls of the mighty Andes men and women known as campesinos, literally translated to peasant farmers are seen parting with what small amount of Colombian pesos they have at small breakfast stands. Colombia, who exports its finest coffee beans to caffeine empires like Australia and the United States leaves these humble workers standing in queue to enjoy Colombia’s rocket fuel coffee typically Aguila Roja (Red Eagle) and a side of chicken pastels (pies) and buñuelos, a savoury fried cheese doughnut.
The mornings at over 2000 metres altitude are brisk and are soon joined by either a belting Andean sun or rolling clouds, rain, and electrical storms. Armed with an arsenal of machetes, hoes, shovels, two stroke motorbikes, sweat pants and rubber boot combinations, and carrying lunch boxes of cold rice and beans. These undervalued food security workers navigate muddy windy roads as they embark on yet another day of staple food plantation and harvest.
In the year 2020 immersing myself in this rural culture donning ripped jeans, a side machete, but unable to swap out quality coffee for a red eagle rocket. I found myself building the plant medicine retreat centre which I co-founded, The Eagle Condor Alliance’s new home with a lush Andean back drop. One morning a figure appeared to be walking through the not so cattle proof fencing, wearing a classic brimmed hat slightly mouldy, second hand butchers apron, a metre long machete attached to his boney hip and a plume of tobacco smoke from his tobacco pipe, he made his way towards us clutching his handmade walking stick which sustained his hunched walk. His name was Alfredo, we were his new neighbours. He approached us as we finished up our fire cooked egg breakfast. Alfredo was 86 years old and out and about looking for work, his finely sharpened machete his C.V.
He approached us and in the local paisa (people from Antioquia Colombia) Spanish dialect and began to comment on the weather. After around 15 minutes of small talk he asked if we had or knew of any work available. At first we were not interested but eventually after a few days of witnessing this old machine follow the same route down to our farmland we decided to give him a go so he would at least stop annoying us and maybe would put us in good steed with the surrounding neighbours.
Let’s just say our HR gamble was on point. Alfredo didn’t disappoint. Clearing dense hillsides with one hand swinging his shinny machete and in the other hand his tobacco pipe always burning. He taught us the art of rural Colombian fencing, enjoyed carrying two meter logs on his shoulder and had a pretty good green thumb as well. One afternoon we had a moment to connect. I still remember so clearly his words of work colleague from decades gone by. “I worked with a lot of guys, everyone had their own style and their own pace, those guys wanted to move fast, rush, get it done. Me on the other hand, I had a steady pace”. “Where are they now?” “I don’t know…but I’m still here going at my own pace.”
Some might argue that it may seem like a failure to be out working physically at eighty six years of age but Alfredo has purpose, drive, and like a Toyota land cruiser he just keeps going. What a blessing it is to have moments with human beings at that point of their life giving their perspectives, retracing their steps, and sharing the lessons they have learnt on the staircase of life.
The thing that stuck with me the most was his words around steady pace, consistency, and that attitude of slow and steady wins the race. Often on retreats in Colombia and through my mentoring work I would emphasis to clients the need to slow it down.
The movement of the world and western society keeps getting faster and faster but for Alfredo on those green humid cloud covered Colombian mountains, its the same pace and the same style.
Nowadays we make so many decisions in one day, 35,000 actually to be exact. But under what circumstances do we make those? At what pace or rhythm? Are we making these decisions from a place of calmness, stillness, and deep breathing or are these decisions being mapped out by a broken nervous system fuelled off caffeine, slept debt, and inflammation.
For the majority of ancient traditional knowledge from indigenous elders, masters of meditation, yoga gurus, or Qi Gong dynasties, self care and protecting of your energy is paramount for longevity. The correct use of the breath and movement help us understand life is not a race, there is nowhere to get to. Life is but a journey, and you dictate the cadence and the pace is dictated by you. I personally choose Alfredos idea of a steady yet consistent walk of life. Removal from that systematic paradigm that is so easy to fall into…The race to nowhere.
Returning to Alfredo and his one-man gardening services in the Colombian Andes. He is a man that after a hard day’s work, would rub beef tallow into his cracked hands. He embodied the essence of a true character, akin to the tortoise from the tale of the tortoise and the hare.
Find your own pace, develop your unique style, be yourself, and savour every breath we have in our existence.