The Atitlán and Tolimán volcanoes, towering over IMAP fields.

Putting in the Work for the Sake of the Trees

By: Georgia Sachs, Mesoamerican Permaculture Institute (IMAP) Intern

I understand that I am the first person in the BTS network to spend substantial time at the Mesoamerican Permaculture Institute (IMAP) in quite a while. I want to begin by saying what a privilege it is to learn here and from these people. I deeply appreciate the BTS network for cultivating this relationship, and I feel (and hope) I’m strengthening it during my time here.

IMAP’s mission (in their words) is to promote food sovereignty, conserve biodiversity, and empower individuals and communities in Mesoamerica with a base of ancestral knowledge and permaculture principles to live well in an ecological culture.

In the face of political corruption, violence, and disregard for our planet — in Guatemala, Canada, the United States, and practically anywhere else — IMAP fights relentlessly for joy. At the centre of their work, they hold a profound respect for the land, the cosmos, Kaqchikel culture, ancestral knowledge, and each other.

IMAP’s projects include but are not limited to educational tours, supporting local organizations such as women’s centres, artisan collectives, and local farmers, and implementing school gardens to teach children how to care for their land, lake, and culture. Additionally they constantly update IMAP itself, building new composting toilets, repaving pathways, and constructing new eco-structures to process amaranth or, most recently, to connect with culture through temazcal (like a sweat lodge). One lesson I’ve learned about their work: it’s not finished until it’s beautiful. They infuse every space — the garden designs, kitchen organization, and IMAP’s structure of the organization itself — with detail, attention, and thoughtfulness. Everything has its place, purpose, and responsibility.

Fields of amaranth, a nutrient-dense, native food source.

The team culture (from my limited time and outsider’s point of view) overflows with cariño, respect, playfulness, and hard work. Every day, we eat lunch together and everyone always sits in the same spot. We all bring lunch in little Tupperwares made in Guatemala. Once we all gather at the table, we open our containers, pour out half onto the lid, and contribute it to the table. We share everything. When I asked how this tradition started, someone told me simply, “It’s the culture.” Over shared plates and tall stacks of tortillas, we talk about the gym (they’re very into working out here in San Lucas Tolimán), current projects, local news, or just straight up jokes. On any given day we can be found eating quietly or wiping away tears from laughter, rarely breaking off into small groups of conversation.

Two highlights of my time here:

  • One day, I arrived late while the team talked at the table after the meal. When I walked into the room, I noticed they had left my usual seat — second from the end on the right side of the table — empty. They knew I wouldn’t be there for lunch. That casual thoughtfulness and inclusion hit me right in the sentimentals.
  • The outfits. The women who work in the office wear their traje tradicional on any day they do office work (almost every week includes at least one day when the whole team does fieldwork, and they wear jeans or workout gear). Seeing their combinations each day offers a masterclass in pattern mixing, colour theory, and textural study. From the moment they wake up, the women in this community embody living culture — preserving, respecting, and serving looks passed down from the Abuelas.

Each day, I get to do some combination of the following tasks: water plants, clean out gardens (we never say “weeding” — permaculture rejects the idea of weeds; no plant grows in the wrong place, only in a place we don’t want it), move or mix compost, plant gardens, collect carbon, organize seed packets, search for funding opportunities from English-speaking organizations, and translate materials for their internet presence, literature, or educational tours. I get to spend all day outside. Sometimes working under the sun gets brutally hot but there is an emphasis on working well, steady, and taking breaks as often as needed, with the confidence that ice cream always fills the freezer.

The lake holds magic, energy, history, and life. Much of IMAP’s work in biodiversity, land conservation, and pollution mitigation stems from a deep desire to care for the lake. They refer to her as Abuela, and I now understand this as literal and true. IMAP sits right beside her. The land near the lake serves as a bird sanctuary, and the team recently planted many trees — all native, some endangered — to grow into a forest for the birds that migrate from as far away as Canada to spend the winter here (may we all find winter reprieve as beautiful).

The lake view from IMAP’s offices.

We care for the trees intended for this forest through very physically demanding work, since the irrigation system doesn’t reach them. We water them with watering cans. One day while I watered and laid down mulch to retain humidity, Gregorio — one of IMAP’s most senior employees — taught me how to look at the land’s shape around each baby tree. He showed me how to dig out the sides of the ditch with his machete’s tip to form a reservoir so the tree can hold as much water as possible. He said, “It’s a little more work, but it helps them a lot.”

Later, during our obligatory ice cream break, we talked about the trees and all they do for us. Gregorio easily listed the ways they support us: they retain soil with their roots, provide shade and shelter from the rain, give us food and leaves for eating and making things, and act as homes to birds and animals that sustain our ecosystem. I told him I kept thinking about what he said — that doing a little more work gives the trees what they need. While working under the hot sun after heavy lifting and constant bending, that idea struck me: this extra bit of care is the least we can do. The care we receive from trees exceeds what we can return in one lifetime. Here at IMAP, I’m learning to take the extra time, do a little more work, and push myself — for the sake of the trees.

I find it easy to feel proud of IMAP’s work and satisfied by the small ways they allow me to contribute. The daily experience of seeing things grow from care is primal and propelling.