Viva Viveros! Cultivating Native Plants & Sustainable Lives

The dictionary definition of sustainability is the capacity to endure – in the face of challenges and threats. Anne Pellicciotto, Peace Corps Volunteer Mexico (2010-2012), learned the true meaning of this word though Viva Viveros!

Assigned to SEMARNAT, the Mexican federal agency for environmental protection, Anne quickly realized that the government’s investments were not paying off. Their 3-month PET (programa empleo temporal) projects paid the people of rural ejido communities a temporary subsistence wage for ecosystem services – enough to fund construction of native plant greenhouses and initial production – but not enough to endure. 

Building upon Semarnat’s ‘seed’ investments,  Anne’s goal was to grow these projects into small yet sustainable native plant business and target their products to the extensive government reforestation market. Applying her entrepreneurial and organization development experience, plus the support of USAID through a small-project assistance (SPA) grant, Anne created a collaborative program to engage the communities of the process of their own change.

 

Envisioning Sustainability – People, Planet and Profits

Focused on two remote communities, Zamachihue and Paso de Botello, both situated in the arid Zona Media of the state of San Luis Potosi, Anne’s first step with Viva Viveros was to co-create a sustainable vision – one that inspired the all-women participants to believe in themselves and the power of their collective efforts.  Drawing pictures of the past, present and future of their vivero, they began to see the virtuous cycle of benefits to them, their families and the planet.

Looking at it through the lens of the United Nations and the three pillars of sustainability, Viva Viveros had true, holistic potential:

• People – cultivate new skills, mindset, self-confidence and pride, unity of community
• Planet – cultivate native plants and trees that generate oxygen and benefit the environment
• Profits – generate profits through sale of the trees to   government and industry projects of reforestation.

Building Internal Capacity – Por, para y con la gente 

To realize the vision, the women needed training, organization and business planning and development. Thus, Anne developed a capacity-development program that included a series of eight interactive sessions over eight months of visits: 

• Session 1 - Vision of Your Sustainable Business
• Session 2 – Internal Organization and Profit-Sharing Agreement 
• Session 3 – Defining Your Bylaws 
• Session 4 – Hacienda Process for Business Registration/RFC 
• Session 5 – Bano Seco Installation & Sustainable Living Practices
• Session 6 – Marketing & Sales – Keys to Survival
• Session 7 – Status Reporting, Financial Management
• Session 8 – Reflection, Celebration, Transition to the Future

Note:  Some sessions were more scintillating than others.



Creating Identity and Professionalism

If you build it they will NOT come – especially to the remote communities where these viveros are situated. Thus, critical to the viability of these small businesses was creating an identity, and then connecting with potential clients in the reforestation sector.  The USAID funding allowed Anne and the communities work with professionals to create logos, brochures, posters and even a website – www.vivaviveros.com still under construction but soon accessible – to potential buyers and funders, with products, pricing, location and contact information.  

Another critical element in the business of sustainability was registering the business with the municipal government and, ultimately, obtaining Federal ID numbers and electronic signatures through La Hacienda (Mexico's equivalent of the IRS) - not a simple process. But without official designations, the vivero would not be permitted to sell their products to the government.    After six months of hard work internally, three visits to the capital for appointments with the SAT, plenty of patience and persistence and fees, the Zamachihue group secured with RFC and electronic signature, and JUST in time to close the deal with CONANP.

Closing the Deal
A sustainable micro-empresa, no matter how big or small, can only endure if there is income – real earned income, not handouts. Thus, after all the capacity building, planning and marketing, and cultivation, the ultimate push was for sales. The mesquite seedlings were busting out of their bags, and the rainy reforestation season was coming to a rapid close. After months of calls, meetings, presentations, emails, follow-up, follow-up and more follow-up, an environmental engineer from CONANP (the agency for the preservation of national parks and protected areas), called back, ready to sign a contract for 20,000 trees for a reforestation project in Parque Potosi. That was our whole crop! The baby trees would finally have a home – and the Mama’s of Zamachihue would finally have their windfall. 

But the deal wasn’t done until the trees were delivered and the payment was received and distributed among the women partners. Another learning opportunity, because transporting 14 tons of trees from the vivero to the community of Canada Grande on the others side of the Zona Media was no small task – it took 8 hours and 40 hands to load the first truck!  

Sustainability Starts with ME 

Though the one-year process, Anne and the women learned that sustainability starts with ME – with each individual on the team – with an attitude of patience that allows one to remain positive despite all the obstacles – combined with persistence that prompts one to push when there’s no more time for waiting. (You can spend a lifetime waiting in Mexico. In the end, the women got their check for $80,000 pesos, to be divided up among the 20 women socias, with 15 percent re-invested into the business in accordance with the internal agreement, so that Vivero Esperanza de Zamachihue will endure.

Then there was a fiesta!

Sustainability would not have been possible for these communities without the generosity of the American people through USAID.
 

The Zama Mamas ~ Before and After

Mexican Improv

This morning I awaken to the sound of trash bells ringing:  the trucks are arriving and telling the residents to get their bags and cans of basura out onto the sidewalk for pickup.  I’m not sure they use this system because the people can’t plan ahead, follow a schedule, and put their bags out the night before like we do in the good ‘ole USA? Or because there are so many stray, hungry dogs that will attack the bags, the residents have no choice but to put them out on the sidewalk at the last second when they hear the bell.

Either way, it speaks to the spontaneous culture I’ve been living in for the last two years. Very little is planned:  things arise in the moment and people react, calmly and efficiently.  They sell natural gas that way, playing a jingle over a loud-speaker that prompts residents to come out to the street and pay the man to refill their tanks. And potable water is bought and sold that way too – an annoying beep-beeeeep-beep-beep.  Even the knife-sharpener has his chime, and the elote man his blasting mariachi.

Although it can be noisy, there’s something beautiful about this practice. You don’t have to keep a calendar. You don’t have to be disappointed or frustrated when an appointment cancels because you don’t track them. You’re just living in the moment.

And there are days when the spontaneous culture drives me absolutely loco! The less time I have, the more I need to get things programmed.  At the beginning of my service in MX this wasn’t a problem:  I had no appointments, and that was uncomfortable for me.  It’s true: a calendar full of activities makes you feel…important. But then I got used to it; I even lost my Blackberry after a few months here (a subconscious adaptation move?), tried replacing it with a Palm, then lost that, finally reverting to the old paper method.

But now, with just four months to go in my service, and some goals (and obligations) to fulfill before I leave, I need people to live up to their commitments – so I can live up to mine.

Last week was a disaster of broken promises.  A lunch date is one thing; but this was a last-minute cancellation by Procuraduria Agraria. We had scheduled a trip the trip to Zamachihue to gather the information needed for the Reglamento and the Acta Constitutiva, documents necessary for the registration of Vivero Esperanza de Zamazhihue as a legitimate native plant business and essential, in turn, to the community’s ability to sell the plants with facturasto the government for their reforestation projects.

What’s worse, it was the third week in the row of cancellations – and the women were waiting.What’s even worse, no one called me to cancel. I had to make calls and send texts to Cualtemoc, all unanswered, and finally send an email to the director to discover that, in fact, the trip was off. I’ve learned this much in Mexico, to confirm the day before; otherwise I end-up waiting out on the corner at the Pemex station at 7 am for a ride that never comes.

At first there’s anger – I feel the steam coming out of my ears and expletives coming out of my mouth.  It's a feeling of disrespect – not just for me but for the women of the community – as though our time is not valuable.  Then there’s the feeling of dejection and protection, ni modo, whatEver – if they don’t care why should I?  

But then, with luck and practice, the Mexican Improv kicks-in. I notice my brain searching for a Plan B, and beneath that my heart pushing to rise above the malaise and stick to MY commitments. Even if it means taking the bumpy throw-up bus 2 and a half hours to Corn City, that’s what I'll do.  

 

Truth was, the ride wasn't all that bad, as long as I kept my eyes closed or focused forward. The temperature at that hour was suffer-able, and the dust wasn't billowing into the windows like last time, thanks to a blessed sprinkling of rain. But best of all, as my bus pulled into the tiny station along the highway, I could see Angelica see me and smile.  She and her senior were waiting on the bench for me, as promised.  I did not have to contemplate a Plan C. They were as committed as me. 

We even took advantage of all being in the capital together to visit the Municipal head of Ecologia to talk about reforestation project in the region, practice our pitch, and try to sell some trees.  

Then it was time to take the one-hour dirt road journey to the community for the meetings with the mujeres to develop the Version 1 of their Reglamento.  More improv: the Ejido Hall was locked and the Comisariado with the key was nowhere to be found. So we gathered on the patio, brought in some chairs, pinned a sheet onto the wall, strung some electricity in on a fat orange cable, and started up my PowerPoint slide show.

Two hours later we had decisions on our Vision, Organization Structure, Leadership Team and Profit-sharing Plan – all the information Cualtemoc needed to get moving, no excuses, on creating the Acta Constitutiva.  I wish my SeeChange clients could be so efficient.

Then we retreated to Angelica’s house to eat her mama's infamous mole rojo with the handmade tortillas morradas, the ones made of the pink corn and so thick they tear like fabric and hold in all the spicy-sweet sauce.  And for desert, cool wet cactus tunas.

Mexican Improv has its rewards.