This article is one of a series on life in the campo, or country living in Costa Rica, as my wife and I* experienced it on our visits and after moving to Costa Rica. Each is a sort of time capsule, the stories evolving with us as we have lived more experiences and delved deeper into the culture.

That I have somehow managed to go this long living in the campo without writing about cows is a sign of my dislike for them. In this, I’m in the minority out here. For people who raise cows to eat, there is an affinity for cows I really don’t get. To me, cows are stupid. Probably my prejudice comes from the fact that when I was young, we would take trips to Missouri to visit relatives and cows. The cows left an impression on me, but not a good one…having been squashed against the wall of a milk barn by a Holstein, among other indignities.

Perhaps it helps to explain the appeal of cows to the average campesino to say that the word for cattle in Spanish is ganado, which also means gained or earnings, from the word ganar, to gain. So, for most campesinos, cattle are wages. This is hardwired. It doesn’t seem to matter how much money they have in the bank, but if it is on the hoof, they feel wealthy. In some ways, this makes sense. In the bank, the money is barely keeping up with inflation, but when it is invested in cows, it means that the money is growing quickly.

Generally speaking, I am told that the money invested in cows increases at about 3 percent per month, assuming that they are being raised on your own land and taking into account that colones are devalued against the dollar at about 10% per year. Even so, it is understandable why a person with many cows considers himself rich.

On the fincas, I consider cows to be cheap weedwhackers. When there is land we haven’t planted trees on yet, we have to keep the vegetation in check. Instead of having people out there with weedwhackers, our partner Hector uses cows. This works very well, and the money Hector makes on this, he gets to keep. It is true that we could split the profit -- but I prefer to keep my hands clean from cows.

The cattle here are much different than I remember from my youth. This doesn’t mean much, since I am far from an expert in cattle. Here in Costa Rica, we have three types of cows: one for meat, one for milk, and one for both meat and milk -- a compromise between the other two types. One thing I have noticed is that the cattle here are not as huge. (Although to me as a young kid, a heifer looked the size of a tank.) I am told that usually the campesinos don’t keep a cow too long, because the larger cows are much harder on the land and the fences. Hector had a bull once that had a disturbing habit of breaking fences. He would just go up to a fence and lean on it until it broke. He was sold to someone who had space for him.

Speaking of bulls, the bulls here seem to be of a relatively mild disposition. The same is true for all the cattle. I have never even seen a cow or a bull (or a horse for that matter) try to kick here. I saw plenty of that in the USA in my short visits to farms. The Costa Ricans do not like to keep dangerous animals. Animals that are “bravo” get trained. If a cow doesn’t accept the training, it gets a new name: hamburger. (I am not kidding about the name.)

Animals, including cattle, are a big part of life in the campo. As I sit here on the finca writing this, I am looking out at cattle and horses. Last night I was shown the prize oxen of one of our farm managers, Martin -- and he was wanting me to say that they were beautiful. I did; I had no choice, as the affection that he shows for the beasts is remarkable. Having grown up primarily in the suburbs, I tend to have nothing to say about the cattle, horses, pigs, chickens, and you name it that appear magically somehow on the plantations. I am convinced that those who work there wouldn’t be happy if there weren’t a bunch of livestock around. I will admit that the young of any species are very cute; it’s just that they don’t stay that way for long. Of course, the same probably could be said of me.

When I said earlier that I tend not to want to be involved with cattle, it is to keep my hands clean, perhaps in more ways than physical. The real cause of deforestation is cattle -- or if you want to be more specific, the desire for cheap beef. Cows take up a lot of room. For example, I know that we can support about one cow per hectare (2.47 acres) without much problem on the kind of land that we buy. The problem is that there is no way to buy farmland here, recover the land cost, and make a profit from raising cows. The cheap beef from the tropics is based on clearing rainforest and replacing it with cow pastures. Now that there is no longer land available for the taking in Costa Rica, I am not sure what the next generation is going to do, but it won’t be cutting down rainforest. One of the pressures against the remaining rainforest in other countries is still cattle production. This is why we’re securing land by private ownership. If we own it and protect it by a legal vehicle attached to the title in perpetuity, it can’t turn back into a cattle farm. If we all pay just a little more for beef as a result, it’ll be worth it.

*We are Fred and Amy Morgan, originally from the USA. We bought a dairy farm in Costa Rica to plant trees in its pastures, then later caught a dream of turning all the land we can to permanently protected, sustainably maintained forest once the plantation trees have been harvested for profit. Along the way, we made it possible for our former partner to realize his dream of starting a business of his own in his native land. He is featured in many of the earlier stories.

To read more about Finca Leola S.A. and how you can also invest in trees and at the same time help with reforestation, go to Own Trees with Us.

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