Shoveling Shit

I am known to be a potty mouth from time to time. I blame it on my culture. Costa Ricans—at least a large part of us from the metropolitan area—have beautifully dirty mouths. The beautiful part of it, for me, is that you use the filth in non-filthy contexts. Thus I can tell a good friend: “Son of a bitch, don’t be such a dick face” and this can have no negative associations with it. I could probably even say this to my friend in front of my grandmothers. While they won’t repeat it, they are likely to accept if for what it is: a youngster speaking like they do.

But anyway, all this is to say that I am not being intentionally potty-mouthed, nor am I falling back on my socialization in employing this blog post title; I am being literal, unambiguous, and factual. This morning, I took my philosophy of science/service learning course to San Luis—something we do every Thursday morning. On Tuesdays we have a good old regular seminar-style class in which we discuss the theoretical readings we’ve done. This week we read an essay by anthropologist Clifford Geertz. In it Geertz discusses how we can understand culture through public interactions. He claims that culture is a public document, and that it is the task of the ethnographer to construct a reading of the multiple layers of meaning implicated in cultural processes. So to add to some meat to the theoretical bones, our Thursday mornings are spent at farms, getting to know people and helping them carry out whatever work they need. These experiences then form the basis of my students’ reflection papers.

So speaking of layers, we shoveled through 70 sacks of cow manure, 10 of chicken shit, 2 of dried up coffee shells, 2 of molasses, and plenty of fresh soil brought in by the wheelbarrow. That’s some layers of organic material. Layers of material, imbued by our actions—shoveling—with socio-cultural significance: a lens to understand some farmer’s lens through which he sees his natural environment; a lens which opened up discussions about the pros and cons of going through the organic certification process; a lens through which we could see the practice of social relations, such as helping friends and family out because they help you out too, and because that is what you do; a lens that allowed us to discuss how things are different nowadays since people have to go and work at salaried jobs in Monteverde and Santa Elena (the parents of both men whom we helped never had a salaried job. They just farmed, and loved it, and loved sharing the fruits of their labor with everyone around them). Someone sees a mound of crap, others the potential for beautiful organic soil.

Removing a small layer from the top of the pile, and the heat would easily burn your hand were you to leave it there. The heat stems from a fermenting process which prevents any seedling that may be in there to germinate. It also speeds up the rate at which bacteria will decompose the material, yielding fertile soil in less time.

Our task of shoveling was aimed at aerating the organic material, also a catalyst for producing nice soil creating conditions. As Mike, Maggie and Oldemar (one of the farmers) told us, there is a fine balancing act with what you introduce into the compost heap. If you are not careful, you may end up with acidic soil, or soil with tons of ammonia.

I was very happy to do what we did today. The farmers joked constantly with us. They also shared their knowledge and goals, betraying the pride this kind of work gives them. The students too seamed proud. No complaints, no moans for meeting one hour earlier than our scheduled time; no nagging about being knee high in poop. This is very nice: simple and simply an observation about niceties. To observe the niceness is to be open to it, and to invite it again so that it can re-manifest in ways that will and can induce surprise. Just wait till the coffee plants germinate in this soil we’ve turned, or when you have your next cup of organic coffee. The process is as important as the product, said Marx. So say the yogis, the Buddhists, the ventriloquists, the clowns in fancy gowns and all sorts of space travelers. Soil-pasture-cow poop-shovel-student-learn-fly-play-relate-and start all over again till it doesn’t have to make sense anymore. That is all of something, which is enough for now.