The Baionese, who still hope to have a home, have it, however, in El dorado last: Barrio de Séqué, created entirely in recent years. The project has been the subject of debate around the idea of the eco-neighborhood.

There is a small collective garden: the land that has been saved from urbanization without having to recover the urbanization. It's a place that excites me, even if I have nothing to fear.

It is located on the edge of the forest, on a slope of imposing oak trees and recently planted among fruit trees, it protects the section of paradise with a clean fence. Eden has it from Kolkhika, the owner is the village, the exploitation is of the users and is managed in self-management: the community manages it from the inhabitants of the buildings of the area. The refuge belongs to all, and in it the instruments of all, the hordes, the azades and some objects of the secret function that each can use in turn are readily available. There are small fields of land, one of the family, delimited by bands of fizela. In the vicinity, near private grounds, there are common areas that everyone has cultivated. From time to time, it makes me dream, as when I was twenty years old, that the world can change, that the system can be embedded and developed in a libertarian organization.

In addition, there is a whole atmosphere! Interneighborhoods, solidarity, mutual learning. However, not all horticultural newcomers have the slightest intention of winning a good ration, all we ask is that we offer them something in payment of their forces. It is an excuse to spend time and run away from chaos and, by the way, it involves an exchange with other people in the neighborhood, the reinsertion. Everything remains to be done and the pleasure is that, although it is early, the sun excites you already, the sweat flies and rubs the earth. It is a stuffing up the head of the fat lands and talking to the land next door, as ignorant as I am (because ignorance is also collective): how to organize things, the sowing times, the terrible measure of the spleen.

And it's sweet to dream in the kitchen chair, on Sunday morning, in the lunchroom, how you're going to feel your freshly harvested cups of round peas, pack old green seeds, with those same rules, and the delicate smell of green, fresh, that permeates the entire room.

Access to land, self-management, strength and reward, integration, randomly. A tool to generate happiness on more than one level. Jardiner, c'est résister.