By Hannah Frazer, former BTS Intern

What do you see?

As of a few weeks ago, I would have answered similarly to the same small voice that has likely just gone off in your head looking at these three photos—a house with a porch, a field of flowers, and a pile of rocks with plants growing about. But now? Now, I see the beauty in Mother Nature’s patterns; I see energy conservation, observation, intuition, respect, submission, and stoicism.  

This is known as “zone 0.” Think of homebase, where you curl into bed, dance in the kitchen, and your vegetable garden is a mere arm’s length away.

This is known as a “sunny sector,” where no matter the movement of the sun, IMAP’s “isla” [island] is always underneath its rays. 

This is a “spiral,” a biointensive space that tiers plants from the most water-resistant (to dry conditions) to less so at the bottom. The rocky irrigation system naturally pools the water at the bottom and slowly distributes it out to the least water resistant plants.

So, what is permaculture?

Permaculture is the blend between permanent, sustainable solutions and existing, traditional agricultural practices. As an intern with the Mesoamerican Permaculture Institute (IMAP) in Guatemala, through Breaking the Silence (BTS) and the Atlantic Council for International Cooperation (ACIC), over the last four months I have had the utmost privilege to learn about permaculture and live its principles in IMAP’s educational centre in caserío Pachitulul. IMAP’s mission, vision, and way of being, all of which are rooted in ancestral knowledge and the Maya cosmovision–a spiritually-based system that respects nature’s interconnectedness and emphasizes balance across the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual realm–shapes how they show up in their work and the important messages they share. 

“La permaculture es una forma de vida” (Permaculture is a way of life)

During my internship with IMAP, I had the opportunity to partake in their two-week intensive Permaculture Design Certificate (PDC) course with an emphasis on permaculture in Mesoamerica. As an outsider, I spent a large part of the course listening and observing the IMAP instructors and the other PDC participants, all of whom proudly shared their culture and ways of knowing with me. 

One of my biggest takeaways was, in fact, the self-reflection I did on the tail end of the course and shortly thereafter. I thought about the time I have spent learning about international solidarity–thanks to BTS–what it looks like and the many forms it can take. That is to say, I am not merely choosing to walk away with a certificate, but with a strong sentiment that I want to join their movement and stand with the good work both IMAP and BTS do. It means I am choosing to make permaculture a way of life, to share the story of Guatemala and my experience with the various communities I belong to at home in Canada. I feel aligned with IMAP’s message related to the importance of land and self-determination, the value of ancestral knowledge and cultural pride, and the self-awareness and accountability it takes to continue to grow in this space. I was reminded that it is important to stand up for what you believe and challenge the status quo. As they say, “Rome wasn’t built in a day”—cliché, I know, but there is truth to the old time colloquial phrase. I, too, will move forward with IMAP’s guiding principles as my lighthouse and BTS’s work as a driving force needed to make long-term, sustainable change, and stand in solidarity with this movement. 

It is these cross-border connections that I will forever be grateful for the opportunity to engage in and be a part of the conversation. To always bring myself back into the equation with Mother Earth, acknowledging that I am equal parts the problem and solution – and that according to permaculture principles, the problem provides the solution. To understand that oral history, storytelling, and ancestral knowledge is critical in a world that is seemingly at a crossroads, jeopardizing it for future generations. To me, the PDC course was not only about learnings related to permaculture techniques, ecological design, or regenerative practices, but symbolized a shift in my way forward. It reminded me that there are good people, doing good work, and who are so inherently passionate and firm in their belief that I too want to be like them. It was refreshing to be in their presence, to see how they drive change and encourage others to deepen their connection with Mother Earth—to love Her, to respect Her, and to recognize that by taking care of Her, she will care for us in return. 

This shift in my thinking and commitments also came from the first day of the course, where IMAP set the scene for the importance of international solidarity. The course not only talked about agriculture, but also provided a contextual background on the history of Guatemala through the lens of art using the Beehive Design Collective maps (“Free Trade Area of the Americas” and “Mesoamerica Resiste”). It was eye opening to see the Canadian flag as a representation in the Free Trade map–I felt humbled, pained, and deceived by the Canadian education system. How could I not know about this? It made me reflect about how much of a story can be missed or omitted entirely based on the person telling it. But as with my relationship with Mother Earth, I realize that I have a role to play in standing with Indigenous-led movements promoting a generative relationship between humans and the immense universe around them.

In life, there are few moments where a person can point to a specific event, tangible moment, sometimes to the second, recount it in vivid detail—where everything changed. That one moment that forever altered the way you move through the world. Where everything you thought you knew fell out the floor beneath you, a new outlook on life, like seeing what is real for the first time.  

For me, this moment—pivotal, all-consuming shift—hit me like a truck on a Saturday, November 22, 2025 at half past six during a Maya ceremony to close out the IMAP PDC course. It was a moment where I felt so abundantly whole, so full of emotion, overwhelmed in the best way possible, and powerful beyond measure that I did not know what to do with myself. I was filled with gratitude for the opportunity I had to work with IMAP and the privilege of being surrounded by such pure souls. Truly, I was overflowing with joy, love, and warmth; in that moment these feelings were tangible, I could touch them, as if they each took on their own colours and physical vibration, they whirled around me and I was choked up and teary. 

Now, I hope that this written work layered in among the many newsletters, resources, and solidarity network that is BTS, you come to your own moment that you can point to where everything changed. A moment where “permaculture” and “international solidarity” are not just key words, airy and intangible, but rather a feeling with such depth that you cannot shake it, no matter the borders or distance. That you choose to speak out, to stand alongside this movement, and that you too can point to an exact moment where a pivotal, all-consuming shift forever alters the way you move through the world.