Sowing organic in the land of agrochemicals

“Tigre, to serve you,” says Rodolfo Zamora, 65, when he introduces himself.

He has had that nickname since he was young and does so with pride, as can be seen in the paintings, drawings, stuffed animals and other objects inspired by tigers that are found around his farm in Oreamuno, a mountainous area in the province of Cartago, in Costa Rica. Delicious.

He tours the land with his wife, Hannia Villalobos, also 65 years old, while both emotionally tell the story of their project, the Rinconcito Orgánico Irazú: a well-kept 7,000 square meter space in which they have planted between 60 and 70 products since In 2006, Tigre decided to quit his job at a bank to become a farmer.

Tigre and Hannia, at first glance, are just two more producers in a predominantly agricultural area.

But this couple represents a minority.

To show it, Tigre points to his neighbors' land: “It looks green, but it is land without nutrients.”

The soil, in addition, is visibly affected by land erosion.

The passage between one farm and another is the border between two worlds: the division between production with agrochemicals - 98% of the national total - and organic production.

View of the Rinconcito Organico Irazú farm, in Costa Rica.

Carlos Herrera

Organic agriculture, which seeks to make the most of natural resources in a circular system, represents 1.9% of the total national agricultural area, according to the State of the Nation Program, a report prepared by public universities annually.

All organic producers must be certified by the Ministry of Agriculture and Livestock (MAG).

Costa Rica, although it has promoted and committed to ecological practices for decades, is the country that uses the most pesticides per hectare, according to data from the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (FAO).

The organization analyzed the use of these agrochemicals in 100 countries between 2000 and 2020 and the Central American state topped the list with an average use of 23.4 kilograms per ten thousand square meters.

There is ample evidence of the danger these products pose to health, which is why they are strongly regulated in the European Union.

In Costa Rica this is not the case, and to find the consequences you do not have to go far from where Tigre and Hannia live.

In 2023, in two towns in the province of Cartago, around 10,000 people were left without access to drinking water after an aqueduct was contaminated with the pesticide Chlorothalonil, considered a carcinogenic substance and banned in the European Union (although it is produced in Germany).

Last November, after years of pressure from environmentalists towards different governments, the Executive banned Chlorothalonil.

In harmony with the ground

While showing the strawberries growing in his greenhouse, Tigre explains that the difference between his fruit and one with chemicals is instantly noticeable: “The flavor is delicious, tender, it is something else.”

Tigre and Hannia's farm is considered an example.

They have won national and international awards, receive visits from prestigious universities in Europe and the United States and give courses to people interested in starting to plant organically.

“They are shocked to see this project stuck among the conventional,” says Hannia.

Hannia Villalobos, wife of Rodolfo Zamora and also owner of the Rinconcito Orgánico Irazú farm, in Costa Rica, walks through one of her crops.

Carlos Herrera

But organic, they both emphasize, goes beyond just refraining from using chemicals.

In the classroom that they have set up on the farm for the courses, the couple gives a real lecture on what the process entails: not depending on external products, that the land requires minimal tillage, without using heavy machinery, that it produces its own fertilizer, harvesting rainwater, working crops by families or even how to touch plants so they grow better.

“Everything converges in a natural and harmonious way,” explains Tigre.

The diversification of the products that are planted is essential for the health of the soil.

Monoculture causes wear and tear;

The variety makes it rich.

Rotating crops by family, as Tigre and Hannia do, causes pests to stop reproducing and leave.

In a conventional plantation, where the same thing is planted over and over again, pests proliferate and there is no option but to use chemicals to kill them.

Organic imitates nature, where everything grows mixed.

For the couple, one of their frustrations is not being able to replicate organic production in the area.

They want to convince other farmers that conventional farming is more affected by climate change and has more unstable prices.

Although this does not mean that organic is exempt.

The drought that affects Costa Rica this year, for example, has left Tigre and Hannia with much lower water reserves than they are used to at this time of year.

Cristian Rivera, a worker at the Rinconcito Orgánico Irazú farm, in Costa Rica, fertilizes the land with organic products. Carlos Herrera

Beyond the economic benefits, organic stands out because it highlights how harmful pesticides are, both for consumers and for those who plant the land, they explain.

One of the day laborers who works for Tigre and Hannia, Cristian Rivera, 48, knows this well.

Before coming to Rinconcito Orgánico, he worked on another farm in the area applying chemicals.

The effects on his body became evident: “I couldn't even run anymore.”

He constantly felt exhausted and short of breath.

Now, away from working with agrochemicals, he has regained his vitality, he explains while applying natural fertilizer in the greenhouse.

A small, exclusive and limited market

―Excuse me, do you know where Bryan's position is?

―“The one with Papaya?

He is over there,” says a woman, pointing to a stall where three dogs are running.

One of these dogs is Papaya.

Its owner, Bryan Didier, 44, has a booth at the Green Fair, a space where only certified organic producers sell in the center of the capital, San José.

Bryan's dog is named after one of his star fruits.

While he serves customers, early in the morning, he offers them a piece of fresh papaya.

“It's something else, he tastes different,” explains this producer, who has his farm in La Fortuna about three hours by car from San José.

He has been working the land with his father since 2006 and they currently plant about 70 products.

Bryan Didier serves his customers at his agricultural products stand at the Aranjuez Green Fair, in San José, Costa Rica.

Carlos Herrera

La Fortuna is an area divided between tourism and large monoculture.

Bryan's farm is surrounded by large companies and many pesticides.

To prevent his land from becoming contaminated, he implemented a “living barrier” of green poppies.

It has worked.

His farm, in contrast to the desert monoculture plantations, is full of wild animals that arrived in the area on their own.

The four sloth bears hanging from his trees make him proud.

Together with two workers, he delivers the products to customers.

She explains to an older woman how to eat lemon peel, to another she lists in English which products she has available and which she does not.

English is heard a lot at the Green Fair.

And not just in Bryan's position, who is half American, but all over the place.

This space is a representation of some very specific demographics of the city.

Americans, Europeans and wealthy Costa Ricans: the privileged sphere of the capital's society.

Many of the producers who sell at the fair are aware that they sell to an audience that can pay the highest prices for organic products and that is informed about the damage caused by conventional agriculture.

Bryan Didier places some of his organic products at the Aranjuez Green Fair, in San José, Costa Rica.

Carlos Herrera

For organic producers, however, selling at the same price as the conventional market is not an option.

To maintain their certification, they not only have to pay a fee of about $1,000 every year, but they must maneuver through a bureaucratic labyrinth to complete all the paperwork.

The MAG also has the right to carry out surprise inspections at any time and remove the certificate if all the requirements of the regulation are not met.

“The Government is stepping on us.

Today I wouldn't do this whole process again,” Bryan complains.

There are other problems, such as what Moisés Gómez (Dota, San José, 29 years old) describes as “unfair competition” in the organic area.

Those producers who say they are certified and are not or who mix products from an organic and a conventional farm.

Moisés Gómez at his organic agricultural products stand at the Aranjuez Green Fair, in San José, Costa Rica.Carlos Herrera

Moisés knows this world well because his entire family is dedicated to organic agriculture in Dota, a canton south of San José.

Together with his parents and his three brothers, they grow several dozen products that he sells at the Green Fair.

Theirs is the first booth you see when entering the fair.

From before six in the morning there is a lot of customer movement, without a second to rest.

Unlike Bryan and Hannia and Tigre, who are surrounded by conventional farmers, Moisés comes from a place considered among the most organically productive in the country.

He explains that many of his neighbors grow organically just like him and his family, so the concern about contamination of his products is much less.

Moisés agrees, however, that there is a general problem that the organic producer is penalized instead of promoted.

A position that Bryan, Tigre and Hannia also hold.

Denmark, the country that produces the most organic agriculture - 90% of its products - is characterized by the fact that the Government subsidizes producers and encourages them.

In Costa Rica the opposite happens and planting with agrochemicals is still deeply rooted.

“We like things ready and easy and we get used to them.

People have to understand that the cheapest medicine is food.

That it is worth the effort,” says Bryan.