The Families Behind The Resin

The Walk 

The trees grow wild, scattered across the hillsides, far from any road. 

Reaching them takes hours of walking. Uphill, most of the time, under a sun that doesn't soften until late in the day. 

There is no shortcut. The walk is part of the work. 

Weeks in the Monte 

El monte is the wild land where the trees grow. During the season, harvesters stay there. Days at a time, sometimes weeks, sometimes months. 

They sleep on the ground, beside a fire. Days pass without seeing anyone. 

When the food runs out, someone walks down to buy more and climbs straight back up. Nobody goes home. 

It's intense work. The families who do it know it well, and many have known it for generations. 

Who Harvests 

The forests are ejido land, held in common. The families who harvest there are Indigenous and mestizo, working in the same cooperatives, on the same hills. 

Fewer people choose this work each year. It asks a lot. 

Two Paths, One Exchange 

Some harvesters work through the cooperative, which handles the buyers and the sale. Others prefer to find their own clients and speak for themselves. 

Both paths are real. Both are chosen for good reasons — family, distance, trust, timing. Neither one is the correct one. We buy from both. 

And either way, the price isn't ours to set. It's named by the person who walked, cut, waited, and carried it down. It rises. We expect it to. 

What matters to us is that the exchange feels fair from their side, not only from ours. 

When you light copal, this is part of what's in the room. 

Not only the tree. The walk, the fire, the days without seeing anyone, the hands that brought it down the hill. 

Worth remembering.