The Power of the Oasis
Baja California Sur
Oases — mythical life centers in the desert — hold powerful lessons for all of us.
Baja California Sur is home to more than 90% of the oases in Mexico and the socio-ecological areas have played a crucial role in shaping the relationship between its inhabitants and their landscape for millennia.
What can we learn from the power of the oasis, before it's too late?
Chito’s organic guavas this year are huge.
He’s particularly proud of the way they taste picked straight from the tree in the two hectares of land he tends for his business partner, Luis Carlos, a wholesaler who’s happily investing to bring their shared citric dreams to fruition.
“Try one,” he urges as we sit at the foot of one of the guava-laden trees to talk about the mini oasis he’s shaping from the desert with his family in the appropriately named, Reforma Agraria (Agrarian reform), two hours from the capital of Baja California Sur, La Paz.
It’s easy to see why he’s so satisfied with his crop.
They taste better than any guava I’ve tried before. Juicy and refreshing with the fulfilling feel of a pungent, gnarly softball in the hand.
“Can I tell my story now?” Chito’s been itching to tell his story since we arrived at his plantation of Nopales, the prickly cactus superfood that he cultivates on another plot five-minutes from his guava orchard.
It’s an uplifting tale of transformation with an arc that’s intertwined with that of the landscape of Baja California Sur.
After leaving Mexico as a young man to try his luck north of the border, he’s back in Baja and working on land inherited from his grandfather with his wife and three children. He’s never been happier.
“I tell my children, the truth is here in this Ejido, I feel like I'm in the glory of God. ‘How’s that dad?’, ‘Well, you see, I was in the United States more than 20 years undocumented. I was afraid to go out to the store, that they would stop me, and ask me to see my papers. So much fear. Here I am free to go wherever I want, do what I want, and besides that I am on my land. I can eat from the tree and I can invite you to try a guava’. That's what brings me joy. I feel good. Grateful for life. I feel very fortunate.”
Then a black Baja California coachwhip snake slithers past a nonplussed Chito as he takes another bite from the not so forbidden fruit of his organic oasis.
On another dusty desert spot, a few hours south in Colina, Celia Roldan sits under another tree.
It's one of the few things growing in this slice of unplanned, urban sprawl, that is her rapidly expanding neighborhood.
These shanty towns are known colloquially as the ‘sombra’, or shadow — an expanse of improvised shacks set back from the luxurious hotels and golf clubs that hug the coastline between Cabo San Lucas and Cabo San Jose.
Gigantic guavas may be harder to come by in these parts but not unlike Chito, Celia’s proud of her progress since she traded Mexico City for the desert in 2017.
Hard work and solidarity with her neighbors, has made her a surrogate grandmother to a centenary of kids left to fend for themselves when their mothers need to work. Celia’s open-air community kitchen now feeds 120 children a week.
“I started under that tree with five children. The word spread and soon there were many. I have my grandchildren here, and I want them to have better opportunities than they would have had in such a conflicted area as Iztapalapa, where we used to live,” she says.
Like many of her neighbors, Celia arrived in Cabo San Lucas, to meet the needs of the annual migration of winter birds that fly down from North America every year.
We’re not talking of the feathered variety that make the 4,000 mile annual round trip, but the non-feathered kind – those that land in their private jets to play golf and soak up the sun from November through to March.
In the same way that the birds from the north rely on Baja California’s extensive network of oases to replenish themselves and find nourishment en route to their summer breeding grounds, Celia has created the equivalent to those fertile refuges for Mexican compatriots fleeing from the drug-related violence affecting much of the country.
“My children maybe didn't have the peace that my grandchildren have here, to go out and fly a kite, calmly so I came here looking for that, I arrived with nothing, sleeping on cardboard, like many people who live in these areas. We work very hard to have the basic things, to have a peaceful life," she says.
In the dictionary there are two definitions for an oasis — one could have been written for Chito and the other for Celia.
The first is a fertile or green area in an arid region (such as a desert), made so by the presence of water. The second is a term used metaphorically to describe a place or situation that provides relief from surrounding difficulty or stress.
Of the first ecological kind, there are an estimated 200 oases in Mexico of which 187 are on the Baja peninsula and 171 are located in Baja California Sur.
Globally these cultural landscapes dominate 30% of the arid land belt that joins Africa, Asia, America, and the Iberian Peninsula, supporting 150 million people as well as millions of other species. As well as their ecological value their cultural impact has been to force their inhabitants and dependents to develop a social organization around optimal water resource management.
In Baja California Sur, they have been crucial life centers for millennia. The original inhabitants of the peninsula which can be traced back 11,000 years used them to support their nomadic lifestyle.
Formed by small hunter-gatherer groups – the Pericues, Cochimies and Guaycuras – understood clearly the limits of these areas. To avoid degradation chose not to settle into a sedentary existence near them, preferring instead to move freely between the oases, mountains, deserts and twin coastlines as the seasons dictated.
Efforts by Spanish conquerors to colonize the peninsula in 1535 floundered because Hernán Cortés and his cronies failed to discover these oases. After abject failure to listen to the landscape or its stewards, the first Spanish settlement was aborted in less than a year.
It was only when Jesuits arrived two hundred years later and took note of the wisdom of the place, were they able to create communities around the oases. It was the stewards of the region, the Cochimies and Guaycura, that first led them there.
According to historians, Martha Micheline Cariño Olivera and Ana Luisa Castillo Maldonado it was during this period of cultural transfer between Spanish migrants and their nomadic predecessors — in the oases of the region — that gave birth to the particular cultural, ecological and socio-economic outlook of the inhabitants of Baja California Sur.
”A new culture and regional identity were formed in the oases, which we have called oasisness. This culture of nature is characterized by self-sufficiency, austerity, and varied and comprehensive use of biotic diversity.”
Supporting a vast communication network in the deserts, oasisness served generations of Baja Californians well for centuries.
Many of the Jesuits brought with them intimate knowledge of these socio-ecological areas from the culture of Andalusia, which in turn was imbibed in ancient wisdom from North Africa, the Middle East, and Central Asia.
As well as new plants and livestock species they brought with them water management techniques that strengthened these life centers and enabled agroforestry and agro-silvo-pastoral livestock farming to flourish thanks to the intelligent use of limited resources.
“Drawing from the accumulated experience of similar systems in Africa, they were able to establish communities that didn’t deplete these systems but strengthened them — drawing from the experience of such socio-ecological systems in Africa — introducing rules around watering and agroecology that strengthened the systems,” writes Cariño.
The ecological pressures that came with the drive towards modernity in the 20th century, alas, was responsible for a damaging drift away from the oasisness of the previous century.
The land reforms and a shift in production from being centered on local supply to meeting the demand of the peninsular urban centers and the foreign market, brought Chito’s grandfather and others like him to Reforma Agraria in the 1930s and ushered in an era of reckless land expansion for agriculture.
Agricultural land grew from 5,000 hectares to 60,000 hectares between 1940 and 1980 leading to the degradation and collapse of many of these delicate ecosystems.
The overexploitation of aquifers between 1960-1990 went from 3 to more than 580 overexploited wells, with 78% of the wells contaminated by saline intrusion.
As Cariño writes, “The collective mentality of the society of the oases affected by modernity, slowly but inexorably abandoned the principles of austerity, self-sufficiency, and rational use of resources.”
More recently the woes have become all too visible, compounded by a tourist-led real estate boom that has placed greater pressure on water reserves. Agricultural exports and tourism unchecked threaten to destroy the delicate balance of life in the desert.
“The oasis landscape of Baja California Sur represents a unique biocultural heritage that is threatened with extinction, a situation shared with most of the oases in the world,” says Cariño.
What lessons can we learn from Oasis and the historical relationship of the inhabitants of Baja California Sur with their landscape, hopefully before it's too late?
Some of the principles of Biomimicry 3.8 are firmly grounded in these socio-ecological cultural life centers. The lessons to be learned include:
Which brings us back to Chito and Celia, our two inspirational champions of Baja California Sur, fighting in their own way to cultivate very different oases in the face of enormous challenges.
Connecting these two courageous champions is the Alianza para Seguridad Alimentaria de Baja California Sur (ASA), another oasis in the metaphorical sense “offering a break, rest, refuge from the hardships or setbacks of life”.
Through its different programs, ASA is taking a systemic approach to strengthening the food system by connecting and strengthening the oases it has discovered throughout the region.
Whether that’s pooling the knowledge of organic farmers like Chito or connecting community champions like Celia with local supermarkets to feed her 120 grandchildren in Colina, or working with transformational donors investing in land stewardship schemes that will preserve the region’s aquifers.
“There’s something very powerful in re-connecting with the oasis-ness," says
At the heart of ASA’s celebration of these powerful oases is the creation of healthy dialogue between the diverse communities that have migrated to the peninsula in search of a break from the stress of life elsewhere. Where better to do that than at the dinner table, transforming the region’s food system, one meal at a time.
“Food brings people together,” says Celia. “Sometimes I'm here on a Friday and I think I'll be alone, I'll cook this and that and then the children see me and soon we’ve gathered all the tables and we're all eating, talking, and joking around. The ladies come to have coffee. That's what food does, it brings people together, it facilitates conversation.”
It's time to talk.
As we herald the inspirational stories of Chito and Celia, we've learned about resilience, beauty, and the challenges of life in Baja California Sur's oases.
These stories are not just tales of individual triumph but are representative of a larger, community-driven effort to preserve a unique way of life and the environment that sustains it.
This is where ASA plays a pivotal role. ASA is not just an organization; it's a movement, a collective effort to protect and revitalize the oases that are the lifeblood of this region. By connecting local farmers, community leaders, and supporters from around the world, ASA is creating a healthy future for Baja California Sur and its inhabitants.
How Can You Help?
Together, we can ensure that the oases of Baja California Sur continue to thrive, not just as ecological wonders but as vibrant communities where traditions are preserved, and new regenerative practices are embraced.
Contact Alianza para la Seguridad Alimentaria de Baja California Sur today and be a part of this vital mission.
Your involvement could make all the difference in preserving these precious oases for future generations.
How environmental and community leaders can preserve ecosystems, cultural heritage, and inspire worldwide change by reconnecting with the power of the oasis.
Listening to the landscape, learning from nature
