There is much we can learn from the Kichwa community, Daskalakis suggests. He speaks fondly of the “friendly, helpful” individuals he met, and the lessons he took away about kinship and togetherness. In particular, he notes ‘minga’ — a tradition of communal work, or voluntary collective labor, undertaken for purposes of social utility and community-building. “If you want to live in the jungle, you can’t live alone,” says the photographer. “You learn to live in a collective, in a cooperative… I’m sensing more and more this way of life.”
Born and raised in a remote Greek village of 150 people, Daskalakis’ perspective on communal living had already filtered through from his childhood. He marvels at the experience of his grandparents, who only received electricity in 1967. “Now Crete is a place where we have everything: freezers, televisions, mobile phones. People never want to stop.” In documenting the Kichwa, Daskalakis hopes to demonstrate, by contrast, how much more there is to life than ideals of “infinite” economic growth; of breakneck profit and unchecked materialism.
Because the ethos of ‘Kawsak Sacha’ is more than simply living in harmony with nature. It is a “conscious choice” to live in appreciation for nature’s gift, valuing above all else communality, creativity, and happiness. In Daskalakis’ words: “They are satisfied with the things that they have.”
In accordance with the ‘Kawsak Sacha’ philosophy itself, Daskalakis’ project is attentive to all it surveys in the forest. From the micro to the macro, intimate to the political, the project is, in the end, an attempt to reveal the universality of Sarayaku’s story: the “common mosaic of humanity’s mission” to protect the planet. “We can’t all live in the wilderness,” Daskalakis concedes, “but even in the cities, we can make a lot of choices.”