A squad of firefighters and planters to fight the fires in Bolivia

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Marina Justiniano's first mission as a firefighter was in 2019, when she was already over sixty years old.

Forest fires were ravaging Bolivia at the time, particularly devastating in its Chiquitania region.

She lent a hand;

Someone had to put out the flames.

The 68-year-old woman is an authority in her community, president of the local indigenous women's organization and now a qualified firefighter.

She was one of the first in the town to complete the training.

“From year to year we suffer fires.

But many times the men are not here, because they are putting out fires elsewhere,” says Justiniano.

Despite her age, she kept going.

“To show the rest of the women that we can help too.”

Now there are five in her squad.

Marina Justiniano and Arabel Zeballos walk among the burned forests in Chiquitanía. Wara Vargas Lara

Justiniano and his companions live in hamlets in the municipality of Roboré, in the Chiquitania region, in the southeast of Bolivia.

That area has the largest and best preserved tropical dry forest in the world.

But it is in danger.

Due to the climate crisis, temperatures in Roboré are rising higher and higher.

Last year they reached 42 degrees.

This increases the risk of fires.

Especially since the inhabitants of the region burn the fields before cultivating them again, in the practice known as chaqueo, because they say it fertilizes the soil.

These fires are increasingly out of control, as are garbage fires.

When it happens, the firefighters alert each other via telephone chain and organize a vehicle.

Justiniano comes out with a backpack with 20 liters of water on his back, equipped with a helmet, flashlight, shovel, rake and machete.

If the leaves burn on the ground, they dig furrows and shovel dirt into them to smother the fire.

The Chiquitana almond as a firewall

Many trees in the dry forest burn like tinder.

One does not: the chiquitana almond (

dipteryx alata

).

Thanks to its thick bark, this native species survives forest fires quite well and recovers quickly afterwards.

Nardy Velasco focuses on this tree and has one goal: “My goal is for this almond tree to be planted in every home,” he says.

Being a climate protective species, it can withstand long periods of drought and provides shade.

It reaches a height of seven to fifteen meters.

It is suitable for reforestation after fires and revitalizes depleted soils because it belongs to the legume family, which fixes nitrogen from the air into the soil.

The local name of this tree—Chiquitana almond—which is known as barú nut in other places shows how deeply rooted it is in the Chiquitania region.

Marina Justiniano carries shoots of Chiquitana almond trees in the municipality of Roboré. Wara Vargas Lara

An organizer speaks to a group of volunteers for reforestation. Wara Vargas Lara

A land in the process of being reforested. Wara Vargas Lara

Iván Rodríguez, a farmer from the Yororoba community, is committed to reforesting his land with Chiquitana almond trees. Wara Vargas Lara

Nardy Velasco is the senior chief of the indigenous communities of the municipality of Roboré and is also responsible for the land, productive development and the environment in her community, San Manuel.

“This tree is going to open many doors for indigenous communities,” she says, convinced.

And it will also generate income.

Because the almonds from the tree give good money.

In the collection centers, farmers receive the equivalent of five dollars per kilo.

That dried fruit gives more money than anything else that the inhabitants of the region grow.

And demand in the United States and Europe is high.

They taste like a mixture of peanut and almond.

“The flavor is addictive,” says Velasco.

There has been an almond tree at the door of his house for a long time.

But until a few years ago he didn't realize the treasure he had there.

That was when the covid pandemic arrived.

“Back then, we asked our grandparents for advice and turned to nature,” he says.

With the health and social crisis caused by the virus, they were forced to trust in what was around them, in medicinal plants and also in the Chiquitana almond.

Nardy Velasco waters a Chiquitana almond tree. Wara Vargas Lara

This dried fruit is nutritious, full of protein and very healthy in other ways as well, as he learned during a training course in a town in the region that has been cultivating it for some time.

Suddenly, she saw the tree in front of her house with different eyes.

Now, he says, “it's like he's a friend.”

“I contemplate it a lot,” she admits.

She looks at him when she is lying in her hammock;

Seeing him calms her down.

Plus, she knows she can help the community challenge rising temperatures, fires, and the climate crisis.

That's why she spends a lot of time writing requests to raise money from foundations and organizations because people in her community can't afford to buy seedlings.

Velasco also organizes training courses to teach them how to plant this tree, care for it and benefit from it.

At first, maize and cassava can be grown among the young trees, and later, the nutritious pulp of the fruit is used as feed for livestock.

Furthermore, almonds are versatile: with them you can make milk, fermented chicha, salted almonds, candied almonds... Nardy Velasco has already tried a few recipes.

His favorite is the spicy Creole chicken with Chiquitana almond.

For now, almonds are not a traditional part of the local diet.

The traditional thing was to give it to the cows.

Although he believes that will also change.

In Roboré they are still starting.

But, if all goes well, the first farming families will be able to harvest Chiquitana almonds within three years.

Panoramic view of a land reforested with Chiquitana almond. Wara Vargas Lara