Doing more by having… less?

Tapas, flamenco, fútbol, sangria. All of these have one common factor, and that is they are all overwhelmingly and characteristically Spanish. Having recently visited Spain, I saw why the country draws in millions of tourists from all over the world every year. The magnificent architecture on just about every corner, a Mediterranean coastline that spans more than 1000 miles, mountain ranges scattered throughout the country, and the extravagant, inexpensive cuisine made it very difficult for me to leave. While all of this is draw in crowds and should be on every tourist’s bucket list, I would like to focus on another, more subtle aspect of the country I slowly but surely picked up on during my travels: sustainability.

It is no secret that I am obsessed with nature and am constantly looking for innovative strategies and methods that have been implemented to help regain the balance between humanity and nature. Although subtle, Spain is just chalk full of these intricacies and it is worth taking a deeper dive. Let’s begin with an unsuspecting olive mill nestled in the Sierra de Grazalema Natural Park.

There are very few places left in the world that not only glorify old traditions and practices, but also continue to practice them. Spain (along with much of Europe) is one of these places. On a day tour from Sevilla to Ronda, we ventured through the southernmost mountain range of Spain, and stopped at a couple white villages (los pueblos blancos). Just outside Zahara de la Sierra, a town of about 1500 residents, with houses and plazas painted in ivory white, perched on seemingly treacherous, but what turned out to be almost gentle, cliffs, lay a small olive mill by the name of “El Vínculo”. Established in 1755, this mill produces 75% of all the olive oil in the Grazalema region of Andalusia. The process has remained unchanged, as some of the hydraulic presses are over 200 years old. What really caught my attention however, was when our tour guide showed us what happens with the olive paste that is left over after the presses squeeze out as much oil as possible. Perfected in the 18^th century, the mill’s owners dry the paste in convection ovens and small pellets of dried olive paste come out of the ovens. These pellets are then reused as fertilizer for the endless acres of olive trees surrounding the area. It is easy to overlook this very minor detail of a 12-hour tour, but I was captivated by this sustainable technique. There is no argument that the industrial revolution has brought about countless enhancements to every-day life and has made life for humans easier, but it can also very easily be said that humans today are much less resourceful because of everything that is available to help us with our daily lives. It made me think, why did these mill’s owners choose to forego industrial fertilizers and pesticides and instead stick with the same, time-honored technique for more than 200 years? Is it due to financial reasons? Maybe shipping fertilizers to such a remote and elevated area is too tall a task? Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to ask the owners, but I don’t think there is a sound business reason for this decision. I think it is simply because the owners care about the land that provides them with their annual crop and saw that the dried olive paste pellets did not harm the land, but instead made it richer and healthier. Although the opportunity cost is higher, the owners are willing to complicate their business model and put in more hours into the operation for the sake of sustainability. We don’t, however, need to be in remote areas of the country to see examples of sustainability. It can be found all throughout the major city centers of Spain just by taking a cursory glance.

America is a country that prides itself on excess. We are a nation of consumers and we have the freedom to buy and use whatever our money will allow us to buy. This leads to oversized shopping complexes and unnecessarily large homes. While walking the city centers of Barcelona and Sevilla, however, minimalistic living played an overarching theme. Never before had I seen such narrow alleys that were utilized so perfectly. Just wide enough for a small car to get by while kids played fútbol in the open plazas every two or three blocks. Shops and restaurants of various types line the streets, all connected by one larger building on the city block. It was the most beautifully organized chaos I had ever seen. There were no gaudy supermarkets or massive shopping centers, there was just enough for the locals to find what they needed and go on with their lives. Even inside homes, most residents do not have dryers, as they dry their clothes outside on a clothesline. Water tanks are much smaller than they are in America, which in turn limits the amount of hot water you can use for a shower. But there was always just enough to get the job done. Most importantly, everyone just seemed happy. By eliminating the ultra-competitive nature and exorbitant spending practices that are found in western countries, people are able to live life more freely and not have to worry about what others think of them constantly. In my eyes, this plays a huge factor in overall quality of life, and the fact that it can be done in a sustainable method is even more impressive. Perhaps Spaniards are just inherently in tune with sustainable practices. After all, it was architect Antoni Gaudí that once said, “everything comes from the great book of nature”.

Much of Spain was conquered by Islamic colonies in the 10^th and 11^th centuries, and then reconquered by Christian colonies hundreds of years later. This led to fascinating architecture that can hardly be found anywhere else. Cathedrals inside of mosques are not uncommon in Andalusia and throughout Sevilla. This is one of the oldest examples of sustainability I have ever seen, as even after reconquering, Christian kings did not wish to build completely new cathedrals and churches, but instead re-purpose them and preserve the older architecture to save raw material, time, and money. Nowadays, it is so easy for us to scratch something and start all over again if we don’t like it, not even considering what we can use from existing foundations. Another common theme I saw in the Mezquita of Córdoba and Alcázar of Sevilla were very intricate, ornate designs on the walls and ceilings of the buildings. These excessively detailed designs were inspired by an ancient belief known as horror vacui or “fear of empty spaces”. Now I know what you might be thinking, fear of empty spaces? That is the opposite of sustainability, the early conquerors were scared of the ‘unknown’, so they built massive structures filled with intricacies to keep the ‘unknown’ at bay. Perhaps this is true, but I believe this belief falls right in line with a sustainable practice. Instead of building extra buildings and using more resources, old Kings and rulers had existing designs delicately carved, to alleviate their horror vacui. Nothing extra was made, and although the mosques are massive, it is important to keep in mind that hundreds of thousands of people would live in these mosques and buildings at any given time, not leaving much extra room for lavishness. The same can be seen for the gardens surrounding these buildings. Yes, they are exquisite and vast, but filled to the brim to maximize the space that was provided for the garden.

Sustainability doesn’t have to be hard. If we look back at the practices of generations before us, you will find that it was incorporated into everything they did. Not only is sustainability important for environmental preservation, it plays a huge role in overall human happiness. Maybe it is time to stop worrying so much about who has a nicer car, or who can afford a nicer resort on the beach, and instead focus on ourselves and how we can maximize our own happiness. Once we start doing this, I truly believe that sustainability will come naturally, and that one day we will be able to do more by having less.

-Ritochit (Ponti) Das