Aleksandra in Roquetes

The first encounter

The first time we went to the fincas and I saw the monumental olive trees, I was astonished. It was sunset—golden light shining through the branches, the twisted shapes of millenary bark, rabbits running across the fields. I remember walking through the orchard repeating to myself, “How beautiful… how incredibly beautiful.”
My project coordinator, Gemma, was laughing, unable to understand why I was so overwhelmed.

Of course, after a year of visiting these fincas hundreds of times, I don’t react as strongly as on that first day. But sometimes—especially at sunset—when we walk among the olive groves, I still stop and think: “It’s still so beautiful.”

Ofegabooooous

Did you know that a group of teenagers with hoes and shovels can be extremely efficient? They can transform a simple hole in the ground to a biodiversity paradise faster than you’d expect. And even would enjoy it in the process! 

Besides the olives, I helped my colleagues with different projects—one of them was Ofegabous, focused on protecting the largest amphibian in the Iberian Peninsula. This species is unique as when its been attacked it can take its ribbes outside of the body, which has a poisonous toxic on its end.  It suffers from the loss of water points, especially with climate change. Our mission was to help restore natural habitats and teach local youth about nature and ecological agriculture.

So we organised a series of events, where besides workshops, we created a pond - young girls and boys carried stones, trunks to create microhabitats and planted native plant species and even made a small island. I was supervising the whole process and the transformation was happening in front of my eyes. When the work was finished, we gathered for a common picture and everyone yelled “Ofegaboooous!” 

One day we even saw an ofegabous in one of the ponds! Later, when we put a camera to observe the area, we discovered birds and even a huge family of wild boars (five adults and nine piglets!) were using this new oasis.

All thanks to young minds.

And on our olive fincas!

Becoming an Unexpected Expert… in Catalan Mice

My main mission in GEPEC was to do biodiversity biomonitoring—basically, figuring out which species live in our ecologically managed fincas and comparing today’s data with the results from 3 years ago.

• Did I know how to do any of this before coming? No.

• Did I know anything about Catalan biodiversity? Also no.

• Did that stop me? Definitely not.

My favourite task was monitoring mice. We set up 36 traps across a 100×100m grid, recorded the environment around each location (if there are branches, bushes, trees around, what is the soil cover, etc), left the traps overnight, and checked them early in the morning. Yes, all 36. If a mouse was inside, we gently took it out ( you don’t want to hurt the mouse), measured it, identified the species and gender, and marked it by cutting a tiny patch of fur before releasing it. 

And for three mornings in a row, we repeated the whole process.

On those days, whenever someone asked me what I was doing in my volunteering, I would proudly say:

“I’m cutting fur from mice’s asses.”

Surprise of gaig blau

One of the main idea of the Oliveres project is to do things to help the local nature. For example, we have created several bassas, water points (using the water of rain), plant grass cover of the fincas, plant local, indigenous species and, of course, hang nest boxes. As much for bats as for birds. And for the birds not just small, but big and rare.

And when you are doing it day after day, you never really think what happens with those boxes after. And what a nice surprise when in one summer day arriving to the field you see a Gaig Blau bird leaving from one of your installed boxes. 

You immediately think “That’s it! It makes sense! Everything we do make sense”

Abandoned house

Every olive orchard in southern Catalunya has a house. Some are lived in, some used for storage, and some are abandoned—perfect shelters for swallows, kestrels, rollers, and especially owls.

We had a special mission - revise over 500 of such houses in the areas of Secans del Montsiá and Serra del Godall (2 hills surrounding Ulldecona, on the lands of which our fincas are located). 

You know what I liked the most about this project? To see how every house has its own story! I especially remember one - I could barely find it in the middle of the forest, so much overgrown with vegetation.

When I finally reached it, I froze—there was an old car parked outside, half swallowed by vegetation. Inside, everything was still there: plates stacked in the kitchen, cups on the table, beds made, even an old radio waiting in silence. It felt as if the owner had stood up one day, walked out the door, and never returned.

I couldn’t help but wonder: Who lived here? What was their story? Why was this house suddenly left behind?
The house stood on the top of a hill, with fishing nets hanging inside—another mystery. A life paused mid-sentence.

Standing there, surrounded by objects once carefully chosen, once useful and meaningful, I felt a quiet ache. So many things we carry with us… and yet, when we leave, they stay behind—slowly turning into forgotten fragments of someone’s life.

It made me reflect on how strangely delicate our presence in the world is. How our memories fade, but our belongings remain scattered for decades, sometimes generations. In that abandoned room, with dust floating in the sunlight, I realised how much weight objects hold—and how little they can say about the person who once lived among them.

Trash runs

20 - 26 of October is the week of sustainability. And to celebrate this occasion we were asked to organise a series of educational events for the school of Vinaros. Of course, we decided to create stations on different topics. I was responsible for the waste separation workshop. 

This moment was special for me because at the beginning of my volunteering I had done a similar workshop in Roquetes Institute for a group of 14-year-old boys—in Spanish! Back then I barely knew the words “container” or “banana peel,” so it was… intense.
This time, months later, I found myself doing the same topic again… but in a completely different way. A smaller—and much more demanding—group: kids from 4 to 10 years old.
And suddenly I realised: I am not the same person who did this workshop the first time.

I adapted the activity, made it dynamic and playful, added movement, and repeated the sorting rules over and over again—because that’s how kids learn. I felt confident, relaxed, and fully present.
And I could clearly see the result: 1. Kids loved it. 2. The message went through.
And that is the most important thing in education.