Today's Post: Let's Plant Yerba mate

Hierba Mate. Or just yerba. Or just mate. Ka´a. Tereré. Cocido. What is it? Unless you have lived or traveled in the Southern Cone of South America or adhere to the devoted health food cultures of the North, you may not really know. Yerba mate is obviously central to Paraguayan culture and national identity. But a second glance also reveals its economic and ecological importance. Though I´ve already written a bit about yerba in my blog, I think that the topic deserves deeper scrutiny.

First of all, what are we talking about? Everything mate-related begins with one plant: Ilex Paraguariensis, a member of the holly family, Aquifoliaceae, and native species of Paraguay, Bolivia, Argentina, and Brazil. This plant is called yerba mate in Spanish and English and ka´a in Guaraní. Its Guaraní name suggests its centrality to the cultures of the region. Ka´a also just means ´´plant´´ or ´´forest.´´ (It is a common word in Paraguay. The cities of Caaguazú, ´´big plant,´´ Caacupé, ´´behind the plant,´´ and Caapuku, ´´tall plant,´´ attest to this.) But if you say ´´ka´a,´´ its primary connotation is usually mate.

Left to grow without human interference, the evergreen yerba mate plant can reach heights of 10 to 20 metersand a diameter at breast height of 20 to 45 centimeters. Naturally an understory plant with dark green leaves that can soak up the light filtering down from higher strata, yerba mate grows best in moist, shady environments. Its flowers are small and inconspicuous, but its berries, when ripe, are dark purple and resemble American huckleberries.

The majority of Paraguay’s mate plants, however, grow in carefully managed plantations rather than forest understory. Generally spaced several meters apart and trimmed every year into a tall bush, cultivated mate plants look more like their ornamental ivy relatives than wild plants. Like coffee and chocolate, mate is a shade crop. In fact, young plants grow better in the shade than in denuded fields. This makes yerba mate production a valuable agroforestry crop and non-timber forest product (NTFP), when farmers are willing to incorporate it into more holistic systems. Sadly, much of the time, mate plantations look a lot like monocultural citrus or corn fields, denuded except for the mate trees themselves and the normal agricultural weeds.

Cultivating new mate plants is quite difficult. I’m still trying to master the technique. My hopes are flagging after being told by my next door neighbor that yerba mate seeds won’t germinate if anybody other than their owner has ever seen them. If true, this belief certainly militates against my attempts at yerba mate extension, which involves inviting people to see my ka’aty (mate vivero) and asking to see others’.

Many farmers follow the traditional, but necessarily low-intensity system of seeking out mate seedlings in the forest and transplanting them. But for more extensive production, cultivation from seed is a must. The first step here is harvesting from ripe berries. Most of mine came from my former host dad’s ka’aty, where he also keeps his bees.

Let me stress the following: beekeeping, though a sustainable and environmentally friendly agricultural activity, is not spatially compatible with many other production systems.

The decision to go gather mate fruits in the bee field was accepted but not celebrated by Prettyview’s Peace Corps volunteer. We collected the fruits and then I soaked them for a few days in a bucket of water. The soft fruits were easy to squish. Volunteer Heather, my contact Derlis, and I used mesh frames and repeated washings to clean and isolate the seeds, getting rid of the fleshy fruit that encased them. I then soaked the seeds in hot water prior to planting in order to further speed up germination. Finally, my summer campers sowed them in special, shallow wooden boxes, using cow feces and soil as a medium. I then covered them with bamboo sticks to provide maximum shade and commenced watering (mate needs to remain damp). Even with all of the tricks I employed, the seeds may take between two and six months to germinate. The only problem is that I don’t really know what a mate seedling looks like. I guess that was a slight deficiency in my training.

After a year in containers, mate seedlings can be transplanted to the field. After three or four years, they can be pruned. The pruned shoots are then roasted over two different fires for hours on end, or sold raw to local buyers. When farmers roast their own leaves, they follow up the roasting by grinding the mate branches and leaves and storing it for personal use or sale. It is said that 11 or so plants can provide enough mate for an entire family’s annual consumption.

Most mate in Paraguay is produced in the southeastern departments: Itapúa, Alto Paraná, Caazapá, etc. And, like American beer, mate can be purchased under many different brand names. Big national brands like Kurupi, Norte, and Pajarito are sold everywhere. But there are also smaller, regional brands: the microbreweries of Paraguayan mate. I usually look for the pink wrapping of Capiibary, the mate from San Juan Nepomuceno, the nearest large town to Prettyview. When you buy mate, you have to choose not only a brand, but also a taste. Most of the bigger companies sell mate mixed with dried yuyos, medicinal herbs that spice up tereré or hot mate. I used to be a fan of Kurupi “Digestive” mix with mint and boldo, but I’m starting to think that it may, paradoxically, be behind some of my occasional gastrointestinal woes. Recent experiments with Pajarito “lemon grass-mint” have proven tasty but milder than Kurupi.

I have dreams of Prettyview farmers someday selling their yerba to Capiibary or making their own mate. If the grant that my agricultural committee is applying for comes through, 18 farmers may be planting about five thousand new mate saplings and even marketing their product together. Of course, the harvests will take place years after I leave. I’ll just have to come back after awhile and try the Prettyview special blend.