Tuqtuquilal Regenerative Center

Dear friends,

In the morning we woke to the sounds of passing cars and the gurgling ripple of the river.

We made our way onto the property to start exploring.

Tuqtuquilal is located on a large hill at the foot of a jungle. At the bottom of the hill is the welcome center, Casa Muestra (meaning example house) in english. It was built utilizing natural building techniques to be intertwined with the surrounding permaculture farm.

To the left of the building is a path that leads up the hill past a number of different buildings. A tool shed, a composting toilet and a laundry area.

Halfway up the hill you reach Café Curcuma, the café and restaurant for guests, as well as the primary communal meeting space of the center.

From here paths continue in all directions. To the left takes you to the seven cabins located up the side of the hill, as well as the yoga platform at the very top of the property.

The main path you walk up to get here is actually a public path that takes you up the mountain and down into small villages where the locals commute to and from each day.

To the right, is where the magic happens– chocolate production.

Tuqtuquilal is a regenerative center that promotes community development through craft production, agroecology, ecotourism and education. The goal is to promote a sustainable, natural, social and economic environment by working together with the Q’eqchi’ Mayan community of the territory that the project is located on.

Tuqtuquilal (tuuk-tuuk-iyl-lahl) is a word with origins from the Q'eqchi' Mayan language that is best translated into English as 'harmony' or 'natural flow'.

Within the facilities they produce a variety of products with raw materials (cocoa, turmeric, ginger, cardamom, black pepper, cinnamon and many others) with a network of farming families that make up the “Red Ratzum Cacao'', a network of 65+ families who supply the cacao that is purchased for the project. After the cacao is purchased they hire the individuals from the community to process and package the cacao in exchange for fair employment wages.

The project has been running for eight years now and Alex and I are blessed to be a part of it.  

We began to make our way up the hill to Casa Curcuma to introduce ourselves to the many people working on the project.

There’s Carlos, and Robin who are the senior operators of the program. There are four Kawa workers (men) and four Kana workers (women). Then there are volunteers who live at the project and work around 5 hours a day in exchange for room and board. There was one volunteer here when we got here named Ari. Ari is from Spain and we spent the week teaching each other English and Spanish, rejoicing in our love for cooking and having many conversations about life down by the river.

The first day we arrived it was Carlos’ birthday, and a special lunch of meat grilled over an open fire with beans, tortillas and salad was prepared for us.

The day was hot, around 40 degrees, it was also Friday, so as a collective– we took it slow. We spent the afternoon down by the river, drinking Sangria and getting to know one another.

In the evening we made some dinner and hung out in the café.

It was the perfect first day.

The next couple of days we got accustomed to the space before the new work week.

We have been doing a wide variety of work here thus far. The first week looked a lot like beautifying the land– sweeping the paths, planting and reorganizing the communal spaces. We also brought some ideas on how to build better systems for the volunteers.

The second week we transitioned into video production, marketing, ecotourism and coordination. We also had guests staying with us at the time and part of our role is making the guests feel at home. Alex and I got our hands deep in the kitchen preparing all sorts of food.

We also spent this week getting to know the project and eating lots and LOTS of chocolate. Including the chocolate that we made for ourselves during our cacao tour.

The cacao tour lasted about three hours, and took us all over the lands of Tuqtuquilal. It starts by introducing you to the history of their cosmovision, a religious Mayan tradition that is interwoven into the process of making the chocolate.

When the cacao is purchased from the families the cacao pods are removed from their shells, then hauled on the backs of the Kawas with a rope tied around their head, and placed in large wooden boxes lined with banana leaves where the cacao is fermented.

During the fermentation process the outer mushy fruit casing seeps away from the seeds leaving two components, delicious lemonade-like cacao juice and the cacao bean.

The beans are then spread out on long tables in a greenhouse-like drying room before they are cracked open, peeled, and toasted by hand.

They traditionally do the toasting over an open fire on, what is called, a Comal (a large clay, flat, wok-like object) After the cacao is toasted it is ready to be turned into chocolate.

At the end of the tour we had the opportunity to turn the cacao into chocolate using a traditional Q’echi’ method of grinding the toasted cacao beans utilizing volcanic stone that has been shaped into a sloped rectangle, over and over again until it breaks down into smooth chocolate.

The chocolate here is unlike anything you’ve ever tasted. It’s rich but gentle, deep but subtle. Nutty, fruity and pure. Cacao is medicine to the Mayans and to the people of the land we are on. They call it a ‘heart medicine’ healing ailments other than the physical. And while this is a new concept to me, I understand it completely and I'm more than happy to have my daily dose of cacao medicine.

Our days start around 5:30 am. We have been getting up early to avoid the heat of the afternoon. The first week here we were in a heat wave, so most days the temperature reached 45 degrees. I never in my lifetime thought I would experience such extreme weather.

The day starts cool, then rapidly progresses to a thick air hanging over everything. With the humidity and the smog here it ‘feels like’ 53 degrees. As the heat progresses your brain slows down, and not much gets done.

Thankfully we are located across the street from a fresh and VERY cold river. You can hear the sound of the rushing water up on the hill near our tent, and I enjoy listening to it early in the morning while I meditate to the rising sun.

The nature that surrounds us is alive, but not well. We arrived during a drought. It had been 130 days since they’d had any rainfall, and the rainy season should have started by now.

The land is arid and cracked. And the hills that were once lush and green are dying and brown. Despite the hurting land there remains life. Deep green tropical trees and plants, lizards and birds and many many bugs including cockroaches, tarantulas, scorpions and a variety of bugs that fly.

All of which Alex is… learning to get used to.

Living in the jungle takes an adjustment, but finally being somewhere we can settle has been a very welcome adjustment. Most nights we get to sleep by 9:00pm, living in rhythm with the earth.

We take our early mornings for ourselves and get to work after our morning meetings. We typically work until lunch, then break all together. Then do another chunk in the afternoon and have another break at some point, usually when it gets too hot to think.

In the evenings we are often cooking, or reading a book and decompressing from the day.

Routine helps quiet the noise. It brings a sense of calm that has been hard to find amidst the constant movement of our everyday lives.

Being in nature has allowed me to drop into that calm and notice my surroundings. The smell of the cool morning, the sounds of the moving water, and the cacophony of singing birds. It’s the right kind of stimulating, and helps serve a constant reminder to return to the present moment.

Time moves fast when you fall into routine.

As the day rises and falls I'm starting to notice the minute differences in every moment. That every moment, every feeling, every state– is impermanent.

Each day our minds, soul and body experience the world in a new way and these moments, these feelings, these states are constantly evolving.

We live in a world that constantly tells us we aren’t enough. We are obsessed with being smarter, better, faster, stronger creating the illusion that we can manipulate our present moment into the ultimate version of reality.

When we have achieved a desirable state of stability and ease we try everything we can to recreate these feelings, getting lost in a past that can’t be replicated.

Being in resistance to where we currently are prevents the moment from evolving, but also ourselves.

I have found freedom in knowing that everything is impermanent. It reminds me to let go when I notice I am holding tightly, to be curious and to recognize that every moment is already enough because it is all we ever have.

Most days we swim in the river at least a couple times. My favourite time is in the morning. Before the day has started. This is where this message has become the most clear to me. When listening to the sounds of nature I am brought into the present where I recognize how unique each moment is, whether good or bad, it has something to tell you, if we are willing to listen.