Sustainable Agriculture in Madrid - El Huerto de Usman
- Julia Valgenti
- Jun 21, 2020
- 7 min read
Updated: Jan 14, 2022
The morning of June 19, 2020 I woke up at 6:30am for the first time since mid-March. Had my sleep cycle finally become so irreversibly damaged thanks to a lack of routine in quarantine? No, I had a much better reason to ‘madrugar’1. Today was the day I would interview Usman, a Mauritanian immigrant turned Madrid local who has been supplying the city center with baskets of fresh locally grown produce from his Lavapies based apartment since 2012.
Usman immigrated to Europe in 1995, living in Spain and France before making Spain his home in 2003. Since 2012 he has been farming two hectares (around five acres) of land which he rents from the town of Rivas, just outside of Madrid. His grandmother passed the knowledge she acquired farming peanuts, okra, rice and livestock to his mother, who later passed it on to Usman. “Since I was a young boy I’ve been taught that to farm the land is good work” he explained.
Despite a deeply seeded history of farming in his family, Usman did not come to Europe with dreams of starting his own ‘huerto’2, at least not initially that is. He explained that the younger generation of his historically agrarian hometown nowadays wish to abandon the work their parents have done to discover new vocations and travel outside of Mauritania. Therefore, in 1995 Usman left Africa for Europe.
A multilingual renaissance man, Usman has worked in construction, paving, restaurants, landscaping, caring for animals, and now cultivating produce. When the economic recession struck Spain in 2008, jobs became scarce and he knew he needed to ‘buscarse la vida’3 to survive in an unstable economic climate. At that time he was working at the farm that currently resides next to his. He started renting just one hectare, but soon grew his business, which now inhabits close to five acres. The increased space allows him to currently rotate a variety of crops including (but not limited to) swiss-chard, tomatoes, bok-choy, millet, watermelon, peppers, and various varieties of squash.
On the Friday morning that I was meant to see the huerto for the first time, we met at quarter to eight in front of the red church on Usman’s street. There I met Taylor, another American, from Houston, who has been traveling the world working on farms since 2015. She met Usman two weeks ago and has since dubbed herself his ‘farmers apprentice’ in the hopes of learning all that Usman has to teach.
I myself met Usman after reading about his business on Madrid No Frills’ instagram account. Since then I have learned that Usman has earned somewhat of a celebrity status (although a some-what elusive one) throughout the streets of Madrid. Those of us that flock to Lavapies with Usman's distinct green and yellow shopping bags on Tuesday evenings exchange knowing glances in the metro, the secret handshake of a club dedicated to eating food grown close to home, despite living in a large metropolitan center.
Produce from Usman's weekly baskets
I became aware that my trip to Usman’s huerto was going to be very different from my previous experiences on farms in New Hampshire or New Jersey. The three of us looked out of place as we walked through the streets of Madrid in mud caked boots and sun hats towards Atocha station. Being more accustomed to the fieldstone-walled pastures of New England, I was suddenly faced with the novelty of a largely urban farming experience. For me farms were nestled far from metropolitan centers, requiring long drives through rural landscapes to arrive at them, not the loading of a city metro pass.
Our journey began on the Alcalá de Henares (Cervantes’ hometown) line of Cercanías towards San Fernando de Henares. A few steps from the train station we stopped (in true Spanish style) at one of Spain’s typical bars for a quick cafe con leche4, during which Usman convinced the waitress of the ecological virtues of the giant trash bag of coffee grounds behind the bar. Before we parted, she hefted the bag over the bar and off we went, new fertilizer in hand.
From there we caught a bus, which took us to the head of a dirt road, nestled under a highway overpass. The mile long walk to the huerto passed through fields full of wild poppies, spear nettle and queen anne’s lace. As Usman’s two hectares came into view, I was surprised to discover they stood in the shadow of not only rolling mediterranean hills but a seventeenth century ‘castle’ (In reality it is a monastery-convent well known as a site of religious pilgrimage. But still, the effect is the same).
Just as devout Madrileños make the trek to the Cristo de Rivas monastery (I prefer castle) , Usman's customers flock to Lavapies on Tuesday evenings on their own version of vegetal pilgrimage. He explains that having loyal customers gives him the “energy to keep working”.
Just as his customers form a small group of Madrileños dedicated to sustainable food, Usman himself dedicates his life to thinking differently about what we eat. According to him, devoting “more time and more care” to a “slower harvest” make all the difference in quality. He uses no pesticides or chemical fertilizers in his fields, instead opting for natural options such as stinging nettle to stave off pests (his cat Simba also helps by discouraging the residence of larger, more mammalian pests in the fields).
When asked his opinions on the industrialization of the world's agricultural industry, he said that “learning to farm without chemicals is possible”, but many places are “more concerned today with price”, not quality. Unfortunately, the same is true of many Madrid restaurants. 'Farm to Table' has gained immense popularity and prestige in the United States, even earning a ‘posh’ status among metropolitan demographics such as Hobokenites. However, I was surprised to discover that only one restaurant (Biotika located by the Anton Martin metro stop) in Madrid currently receives their produce from Usman.
He is glad the Madrileños that purchase his produce appreciate the difference in taste that a seasonal vegetable grown close to home can offer. Modern agriculture allows us to buy tomatoes all year round, with the help of greenhouses and airplanes. However, barcoded produce (verduras etiquetadas5), even when ecológicas (Organic) does not taste the same after traveling more than its consumer. In Usman’s words, there is something different about the taste of a tomato “tricked” to grow out of season and then shipped miles away.
As I pulled weeds from between eggplant and pepper plants and Usman used a metal rake to cover the rows with fresh soil, he did not hesitate to explain that although cultivating the land is a rewarding job, it also comes with its struggles. The life of a farmer is one without vacations, a job that does not wait for him just because it is Semana Santa6. A deeply humble man, Usman described his journey to farming as one born purely out of economic necessity during la crísis7 (Spain's economic crisis of '08), but the dedication he has to bringing local, sustainably grown produce shows the passion he has for his work and for the environment.
“The climate crisis is something that we must stop,” Usman explained. “It is the underlying cause of many problems; migration, drought...”. “It is now not possible for people to live in the areas where they have lived for generations”. Usman’s own hometown is one that after generations of existing off agriculture, “now barely exists”. He left in search of work, finding that rising temperatures and drought were destroying crops, and in turn destroying the livelihood of those that cultivated them.
Usman has many hopes for his business. He has recently planted fruit trees that will begin to produce in the coming years. He hopes to reach more people in the future, provide more good, healthy food and generate jobs for others. However, at the moment he explains that “there is no money to do things the right way", so he will wait to expand until he can. Farming is “a job that you must do without your nerves on edge” he says, a testament to his calm
nature and positive outlook.
El Huerto de Usman
“In regards to my work, well, I'm here in the fields. Today we have a nice breeze, its warm out, the air is smooth and there are less mosquitos than yesterday. That's the work...Providing people with healthy food. I’m not here to be a millionaire or anything, I’m here to collaborate with people and support sustainable agriculture. I am very thankful for everyone that is supporting me. In the future we want to improve, something that produces more food, reaches more people and provides work for others. We are here, every day, fighting for it. I’ve been here eight years now....The environment and the climate crisis, I think that is the root of many problems, migration, drought, people are fleeing the effects of the climate crisis in the places where they lived. I am one of them. We have to do something in regards to corona virus and for and for the people who have lost loved ones. I feel for the people who have been affected. That is why I am here collaborating with a lot of people, donating my surplus to food banks and people who need it. Trying to make the world better for others. And that is it, a big hug...here we are in Rivas, outside of Madrid.”
1Madrugar - to wake up early
2Huerto - the name of Usman's business El Huerto de Usman, used to describe a small farm that exclusively grows produce without livestock.
3Buscarse la vida - a spanish expression that directly translates as 'look for life' but is used to mean 'make a living'.
4 Cafe con leche - coffee with milk
5 Verduras etiquetadas - labelled vegetables. Here Usman was referring to vegetables bought in the supermarket, labelled with barcodes.
6 Semana Santa - holy week in Spain is a universal vacation week in which many flock to the coast and a large part of the country closes.
7 La crisis - 'the crisis', a term used to describe the economic recession of '08 in Spain.
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