By Igor Von Rosenberg – At the start of 2025, I came to Fiambalá to study how the local population of this small town of approximately five thousand inhabitants in the Northwest of Argentina, experiences the growing presence of the lithium industry in the area. The story of grape farmer Carlos can be situated between Fiambalá from the past and Fiambalá from the future, and therefore is emblematic of the transformation of character that the town is experiencing.
On an early Wednesday morning in February 2025, we got up around 6:00. It was still dark outside. In the garden of the house where I lived, I met up with Facu and Ezequil to drink some mate. At 7:00, as I spotted the first sunbeams, we drove to Medanitos, a little town 23 kilometers north of Fiambalá. After leaving the central road, we continued driving on unpaved roads and passed by self-built, improvised houses made of mud. On both left and right sides, we were surrounded by vineyards. Carlos, the grape farmer, was waiting for us at a little building that was still under construction.
The vineyard was in full bloom. Carlos explained that this is entirely due to a self-installed irrigation system. He told us that it only rains two days a year and that it is therefore necessary to ensure sufficient irrigation; otherwise, nothing can grow. While he helped us pick, he shared with us that none of his children wants to take over their father’s work. They are currently pursuing higher education, which instantly made me wonder what will happen to Carlos’s farm. Carlos has worked in the vineyards his whole life, and also his 87-year-old father is still engaged in the business.
While we were picking the grapes, Carlos told me that the large number of wasps flying around the vineyard indicates that the grapes were ripe for picking. The large wine farms in the area had already come by to purchase grapes from his land. Facu had informed me in advance that these large enterprises offer a ridiculously low price for the grapes, but the fact that the grapes were ripe and must be harvested from the land before they go bad, puts the farmers in a vulnerable position from which they cannot refuse. Carlos confirmed what Facu said, stating that they had offered him 80 pesos per kilogram of grapes, which is equal to 6 eurocents…
After we had filled eight plastic boxes with grapes of approximately fifteen kilograms per crate, we went to another vineyard of Carlos’ family close by. His sister, a very enthusiastic woman, warmly welcomed the three of us. Because of her radiant smile, it almost goes unnoticed that both of her canines are far forward, while she has no teeth left in between them.
After we had filled eight more crates of grapes, we carried them to the car and sat down with Carlos’ father, who at the age of 87 was still in charge of the price negotiations. It was easy to see that Facu knew him before, and they started joking around with each other. The old man stated that he would like to include his age in the price negotiations by deducting ten years, making us all laugh.
Another joke that added to the laughter was told by Facu. To explain the fact that they randomly brought me with them, an anthropology student from the Netherlands, he said something along the lines of ‘we had him come over from the Netherlands by boat to exploit his labor here in the fields’. I laughed too. The joke about my presence ironically reflects my positionality in the field by turning the tables of historical exploitive relations between the Global South and the Global North, touching upon a class difference that is still present between the lugareños and me.
Eventually, while knowing that the large companies paid more than six times less, Facu and Ezequil agree with Carlos’ father to a price of five hundred pesos per kilo, to offer the farmer with whom they have done business for a long time. A fair price for his grapes.
This vignette reflects three key issues currently affecting the municipality of Fiambalá. Firstly, the vignette demonstrates the highly arid climate and the resulting scarcity of water resources that lugareños have to deal with in their daily lives. This was important to understand for me, since lithium extraction requires an enormous amount of water and therefore makes the theme of water a sensitive issue in the village. Secondly, it shows the decline of the agricultural sector, which also represents the widening of a generational gap due to the emergence of alternative options in the region, like the rise of newly available options for higher education due to the growing lithium industry in the area or working for the mining company itself. Lastly, the story illustrates the poverty in the region. Elements like the low price of the grapes, the unpaved roads, the self-built houses, but also the dental situation of Carlos’ sister all indicate a low degree of general prosperity in the region, which helped me understand the enthusiasm and hope that came hand in hand with the arrival of the lithium industry.
Igor von Rosenberg is an alumnus of the master’s programme Social and Cultural Anthropology at the Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam and currently preparing a PhD proposal.