< Some farmers in Honduras are finding ways to successfully adapt to climate change

STEVE INSKEEP, HOST:

We've heard a lot on NPR about climate change this summer, which is inevitable given the temperatures and climate change influences other stories like migration to the United States from Central America, which is also affected. Some farmers in Honduras are trying to adapt where they are. NPR's Joel Rose has the final part of our series Uprooted.

JOEL ROSE, BYLINE: It's late in the day by the time Dionisio Cordova reaches his family's farm in a tranquil valley in northwest Honduras. Geese honk protectively as Cordova shows visitors around his farm in the fading dusk light.

DIONISIO CORDOVA: (Through interpreter) As you can see, this field has been cleaned out, and we're going to grow watermelon.

ROSE: Cordova is 27, wearing a faded baseball hat and a dusty plaid shirt. During the day, he teaches farming and water management at a technical school in the nearby town of Macuelizo. He says things have changed a lot since his father used to work this same farm.

CORDOVA: (Through interpreter) Before, we worked based on well-established agricultural cycles. We knew that at the beginning of May, we could start preparing the land, and the rains were stable. We used natural rain cycles. Now we can't rely on that.

ROSE: That's significant because farmers in Honduras have historically relied on rainfall as their only source of water, and most still do. Cordova and his sister are trying to keep the family farm going, experimenting with different crops like Yucca that are more tolerant of drought and taking out a loan to add irrigation, basically doing whatever they can to make it.

CORDOVA: (Through interpreter) It's not impossible to stay in agriculture, but it's become complicated. What I see is that old practices are not viable anymore. We're being forced to implement new technologies.

ROSE: Agriculture experts say farmers in Honduras will need to adapt to erratic rainfall patterns caused by climate change. That means a shift to new crops, new methods to conserve water and more education about how to make it all work. But all of that requires investment in a country that's one of the poorest in the Western Hemisphere. Here's the president of Honduras, Xiomara Castro, speaking at the U.N. in New York last September.

(SOUNDBITE OF ARCHIVED RECORDING)

PRESIDENT XIOMARA CASTRO: (Through interpreter) The industrialized nations of the world are responsible for the serious deterioration of the environment, but they make us pay because of their onerous lifestyle.

ROSE: The US has pledged lots of money to fight the root causes of migration in Honduras, Guatemala and El Salvador, though relatively little of it is aimed at addressing climate change. The Biden administration has announced more than $4 billion in commitments from the private sector on top of more than a billion dollars in aid. But only a small fraction of that money, roughly $54 million, is directly pledged to climate change projects. And the needs in Honduras are huge. Almost 30% of the population works in agriculture, and the vast majority are small farmers. Josue Leon is a climate scientist at Zamorano University in Honduras. He says adaptation requires access to water.

JOSUE LEON: (Through interpreter) When farmers have water, they can grow food all year round. Having water is an adaptation method that generates income.

ROSE: Leon is also a farmer himself, just like his parents and grandparents. He says his country is still getting the same amount of rain. But the extremes have gotten more extreme, with heavier rainfall events punctuated by longer stretches of drought. Leon says it is possible to adapt to those conditions.

LEON: (Through interpreter) First, we need an irrigation system. No. 2, we need to learn how to use water more efficiently. A greenhouse is the way to do that.

ROSE: But those kinds of investment are far beyond the means of most farmers here, who have limited access to banks or loans. And so far, Leon doesn't see much help coming for small farmers, either from the industrialized countries of the north or from the Honduran government.

LEON: (Through interpreter) If you ask me if all farmers can adapt, I'd say yes if the government organized farmers and spent some resources on this.

ROSE: In fact, Leon says there's an example of successful adaptation in his own family, his brother-in-law, Edwin Guillen.

(SOUNDBITE OF OPENING GATE)

ROSE: Guillen opens the gate to the greenhouses where he grows tomatoes in a small town called San Jeronimo in western Honduras.

EDWIN GUILLEN: (Through interpreter) It's protected from rains, winds, hurricanes and bugs. We also have a drip irrigation system. And we use less chemicals here.

ROSE: Inside the greenhouses, there are hundreds of tomato plants in plastic pots lined up in neat rows growing all year round.

GUILLEN: (Through interpreter) We planted these 22 days ago. And these ones here are about 110 days old.

ROSE: For now, Guillen sells his tomatoes to local grocery stores, but he dreams of someday exporting his crop to North America. Guillen knows that he's lucky. He has a steady source of water from a spring that was tapped by a project supported by the U.S. government. He was able to get a loan to pay for the greenhouses and the rest of his irrigation system. Guillen has some of his own money to invest, too, money he saved when he was working in the U.S. He went there to look for his father, who migrated when Guillen was 5 years old.

GUILLEN: (Through interpreter) We are a family that was broken up by migration when my father left. He stayed in contact with us for a year only. And it was very hard growing up without him and to lose contact with him.

ROSE: Guillen says he tracked his father down in Baltimore.

GUILLEN: (Through interpreter) I found him, but he didn't want to come back. I'm the oldest of three brothers and knew I had to come back to help my brothers and work our land.

ROSE: Eventually, Guillen says, he moved on and forgave his father. Now Guillen is a father of four himself and a successful farmer with a big house and a shiny, new truck. And his greenhouses create steady, year-round employment for more than a dozen workers. It's a different story for Dionisio Cordova, the farmer in northwest Honduras we met a few minutes ago.

(SOUNDBITE OF DOG BARKING)

ROSE: There are more dogs and geese than people on his family's farm. Cordova has only one employee. He and his sister both have day jobs that allow them to invest in the farm. Their attachment to the land isn't just business, though. It's also sentimental.

CORDOVA: (Speaking Spanish).

ROSE: "This is my family's land," Cordova says. Most of Cordova's cousins have moved away. Six of them live in California, and they call often, trying to get him to join them.

So you're here. Por que?

CORDOVA: (Laughter, speaking Spanish).

ROSE: He pauses for a long moment before answering.

CORDOVA: (Through interpreter) I've been raised in agriculture. When I was a child, I remember my dad carrying me on his shoulders to inspect the land and the crops. So it's rooted in me. It's who I am.

ROSE: In other words, this land is home. And Cordova isn't ready to give up on his home yet. Joel Rose, NPR News, Macuelizo, Honduras.

Copyright © 2023 NPR. All rights reserved. Visit our website terms of use and permissions pages at www.npr.org for further information.

NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by an NPR contractor. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.