During the Bananera of the early 1900’s, the United Fruit Company (hereafter UFCo, now known as Chiquita) began establishing banana plantations throughout Southeast Costa Rica. Primarily producing Gros Michel bananas, these monoculture plantations began losing their harvest to the pathogen Mal de Panama. Corporate and small farmers alike attempted to eradicate the pathogen through extensive efforts (flooding infected soils, creating better drainage infrastructure, expanding the farms into new soil, and changing the acidity of the soil), but all of their attempts failed. In 1931, UFCo closed its Talamanca operations. The Bribri residents that had previously been displaced returned to reclaim their land, and some farmers from UFCo remained in the region and married Bribri women.8 As these new families began to (re)settle, Yorkin was unofficially formed.
Situated between two highland-based rivers (Rio Yorkin and Rio Tscui), Yorkin is 10km away and across a large river from the nearest town of Bratsi/Bambu. This natural border makes it difficult and inconvenient to stay connected with the Costa Rican mainland. Panama is a smaller, more shallow river crossing away, but no town sits near it– only a sparse network of remote farmers and families. To arrive in Yorkin, you must take a canoe across the river to a dirt road, or canoe entirely upstream until you reach its riverbanks. The canoe ride is 60,000 colones ($120 USD) one way. If you choose to canoe across to the dirt road, you can pay 12,000 colones ($24 USD) for a ride into the town on the back of a truck, hire a motorbike driver for 3,000 colones ($6 USD), or hike the 12 kilometers in. Most Yorkin residents use the motorbike service, limited by financial ability, and only leave the town when it’s absolutely necessary.
During its initial development, Yorkin’s residents used the natural, wild resources around them to build their homes and feed themselves, relying on timber wood, fish, deer, wild pig, and cultivated crops like beans, maize, squash, and even rice (adopted from Panamanian food diets).8 Natural resources were, and continue to be, prioritized for subsistence rather than for commercial export or for sale. Instead, coffee was grown for trading or selling as a means to pay for kerosene, soap, and clothing, necessities that could not be foraged or grown.
At the end of World War II, demand for cacao rose and Caribbean farmers were encouraged to participate in its production. At the same time, a new dirt road was paved to better connect Yorkin to Bambu, one wide enough to support cars and motorbikes (however, only one truck presently operates on this road, and a very small handful of motos). This development broadened the commercial potential of cacao, plantain, and banana production for Yorkin’s residents, and the community gradually branched into this sector. With such a productive income opportunity came a new ability to afford tools, amenities, and farming equipment. However, the demand for the cacao simultaneously jeopardized the residents’ ability to continue their subsistence practices.
In the 1970’s, a cacao disease known as Monilia rapidly spread through Talamanca’s cacao crops, dwindling yields by 72%.18 Cacao production was significantly impacted, and livelihoods were jeopardized. As community members readjusted to these changes, mixed-use farming became a staple strategy to overcome production setbacks and find a balance between growing food for both subsistence and sale. Cacao trees are still grown throughout Yorkin, planted alongside overstory, lumber, and fruit trees around the town and within fincas. Monilia is alive and well, and while cacao can still be harvested, its production potential has significantly changed.
In present-day Yorkin, residents earn their income in diverse ways, and usually combine available opportunities to earn enough for their families. Some leave Yorkin to work in more economically-prominent regions like Puerto Viejo or Bribri for half the week, then return home for a few days of rest. Others are fully committed to their fincas, and focus on growing large quantities of Banana and Plantain for commercial export. Families with children in school receive small stipends from the Costa Rican government to offset costs of attending school, but these amounts are minimal and conditional. The most central income opportunity for Yorkin residents comes from STIBRAWPA, a feminist organization that offers ecotourism and Bribri experiences to foreign travelers.
Each family in Yorkin has varying needs for income, but much of their cost of living is offset by their subsistence practices and their inherited lands. Because of this, residents are able to meet their needs with less monetary wealth. However, the digital age, among other modern influences, are changing the way that younger generations of Yorkin view their positionality. The majority of the knowledge shared in this research comes from mothers and elders in Yorkin, who speak to this disconnect and fear for their future generations. Cultural struggles combined with climatic changes place Yorkin in a sensitive and unprecedented position, but their determination refuses to falter.
To fully understand the ways that recent climatic and social changes disrupt and damage Yorkin’s community, you must recognize the cultural, spiritual, and ancestral connections that tie this community to their land. But this essay cannot fully describe the intricacies of Bribri cosmology, nor should it. La cosmovision Bribri should not be extracted from its homelands, typed up in a foreign language and plastered across a screen in its most abstract form. Bribri cosmology is complex, sacred, intimate, and powerful. What is shared is what you need to know in order to understand.
In Bribri cosmology, it is believed that humans were brought to Earth to be stewards of the land. Sibu (God) left everything that humans needed to live successfully, and in return, it was the people’s duty to protect and preserve all that Sibu left on Earth. To protect the land is to serve Sibu, and return the good deed of preserving his creation.
“Sibú es dios. Un dios que creó todo lo que es en la naturaleza. Si vemos todo alrededor, que está dentro de nosotros, Es una creación con manos poderosa y es nuestro Sibu que lo creo. Para que? Porque con el fin, de que es una misma naturaleza nos ayude a nosotros también. ¿En que? En qué sentido? Dainos un aire limpio, plantas que podemos comer, raíces que podemos comer, y en la tierra si tumbamos una parte podemos sembrar todo lo que es de cultivo, granos básicos, como arroz, maíz, el frijol, el trigo, la yuca, el yampe, muchas cosas. Pero entonces ya digamos lo que es la tierra en palabras Bribri es Iriria. Iriria en Bribri es madre tierra. Todo, todo, todo es la madre tierra, y es algo con sagrado para nosotros. Y con mucho respeto porque sabemos que fue creado por nuestro Sibu. Y lo dejó con ese fin de que el sabia la humanidad iba a necesitar de la naturaleza. Por eso nos pide que debemos de cuidarlo. Si vemos en otra parte hay personas que no cuidan la naturaleza porque? Porque le echan químico. tiran químico. entonces tan dañando lo que Dios o Sibú nos dejó. Pero cuando Sibú creó la naturaleza lo creó con un sentido limpio. Allí no había químico, para que nosotros podamos convivir con la naturaleza.” | “Sibú is God. A God who created everything in nature. If we look around at everything, at even things inside us, it is a creation made from powerful hands, and it is our Sibú that created it. For what? Because in the end, this same nature helps us too. In what? In what way? It gives us clean air, plants that we can eat, roots that we can eat, and in the ground if we dig up a part, we can cultivate any plant, basic grains like rice, corn, the bean, the wheat, the yucca, the yam, many things. And with so much respect because we know this was created by our Sibú. And He left it like this with the knowledge that humanity would need nature. For this he asks us to take care of it. If we see another part of the world, there are people who do not care for nature, why? They leave chemicals, they throw chemicals. So much damage to what Sibú left us. But when Sibú created nature, he created it with a pure sentiment. Then there were no chemicals, so that we could coexist with nature.”
–Prisca Morales Rodriguez
For millennia, religion and faith-based systems have shaped the way we view the world. In pre-colonial times, Nature was a respected, influential, and determining force, and there was little delineation between la naturaleza and the Divine. Our spirituality was enmeshed with our stewardship. Bosque | Forest, Agua | Water, and Tierra | Land was Creation realized; an extension, a representation, a relative, or one and the same. And when our spirituality overlapped with our position within Nature, we knew balance, we knew reciprocity, we knew sustainment, and there was no artificial design to it. These values and practices were inherent, because they needed to be. To harm our land was (is) to harm ourselves.
But with Colonization came inspiration: extraction and unchecked utilization of the land fueled production, production ignited markets, markets created demand, demand inspired economy, and economy required more extraction. Our power outgrew us, and led us astray. In a sudden switch, we went from being environmentally determined to possibilists. We separated ourselves from Nature, pedestaling our human greed and “potential”, and we have been lost since.
For many of us, it has taken a conscious, purposeful effort to relearn these truths and integrate them into our modern world. But in Yorkin, these truths were never lost.
Bribri relationships with la naturaleza are rooted in deep faith that mother earth and the natural world are Sibu’s creation, just like humans are. Cosmovision and belief systems are intrinsically tied to preservation values, so much so that many residents in Yorkin believe that they will be punished if they don’t cuidar | tend to their natural surroundings and respect them. The source of the strongest connection between the Bribri and la naturaleza is food. Food, medicine, and essential materials are what keep the Bribri connected to nature, and these ties uphold gratitude and kinship between humans and non humans in these rural settings. With a continuous dependence on and gratitude for natural resources, faith in la naturaleza, thus in Bribri cosmology, is strengthened. These tending practices affirm belief systems, and the belief systems affirm the power of tending nature. But as integral as nature connection is to the Bribri people, interpersonal kinship is just as important. Yorkin is home to a profound, deep-seeded community that shows up for each other in ways that many of us may never experience in our lifetimes. This depth of community paves the way for human connections to prosper, and authentic, reliable support systems form. These types of relationships have become increasingly harder to find in the modern world, to our own detriment, which is one aspect that makes this community particularly special.
To understand Yorkin is to understand that food, land, spirit, and community are not separate, but incredibly entwined. Indigenous Bribri lifeways do not just offer an alternative to Western systems, they are a reminder of what it means to live in unity with one another, and in balance with our natural surroundings. What follows is a closer look at how Yorkin’s food systems embody these interconnections, and how this community continues to adapt, resist, and thrive in the phases and faces of change it is enduring.