- The snow-capped mountains in Colombia’s Andes range are rapidly melting due to climate change, says Yesid Achicue, an Indigenous mountain guide for local and international trekkers.
- He says this is extremely alarming, considering the role that snow-capped mountains play in various ecosystems and water sources, as well as the cultural and spiritual value nearby Indigenous communities have given them since time immemorial.
- “It is, in my opinion, our values, and how these belief systems manifest themselves in our societies and cultures, that help determine whether we can slow or cushion the impacts of these melting glaciers,” Achicue writes in this opinion piece. “Currently, treating the world and life as resources to be plundered is creating the climate crisis, and different values can change it.”
- This commentary is part of the Voices from the Land series, a compilation of Indigenous-led opinion pieces. The views expressed are those of the authors, not necessarily Mongabay.
This series, Voices from the Land, brings together opinion pieces led and written by Indigenous peoples from around the world. Through these commentaries, we share our lived realities and reflections on urgent issues shaping our time — environmental destruction, our relationship with nature, and systemic injustice. We write from the heart of our communities, where the impacts of these urgent crises are deeply felt, but also where solutions are rooted. Through this series, we speak from our territories, and ensure our truths are part of the global conversation.
In the Colombian Andes, on the highest points above sea level, I have seen white masses that dazzle and spread life. Up here, I have been able to truly feel the water, smell the pristine air and experience the pulse of the Earth while contemplating the glories of a life cycle where the destiny of the planet seems to rest.
It is no wonder that many years ago, when my older brother took me to see the sunrise that broke over braided mountain peaks in changing light, I was able to understand how one of the most amazing creations on Earth began to rise: the Andes mountain range, a serene place that has been part of a perfect balance, where symbiotic bonds are created with all that exists.
The Andes, the longest continental mountain range in the world, stretches like a giant snake embracing all of South America. Throughout its immense presence, it winds through various territories and countries, including my own — the Nasa people of Cauca. It harbors within its caress different ways of experiencing its presence; cultures spring from it as she shapes and defines the identity of our collective belonging.
However, this dream of white peaks — especially the Colombian Andean glaciers — contrasts sharply with reality today: an accelerated melting process that is dragging them toward imminent doom, in total antithesis to my first encounter with them, 15 years ago.
We cannot slow down time, but we can cushion its impact by creating values that take us beyond the dichotomy of whether a mountain is a pile of rocks or the dwelling place of spirits, and instead guide us to understand how our perception of the world conditions the actions we take to care for it.
Currently, treating the world and life as resources to be plundered is creating the climate crisis, and different values can change it.
As a result of rapid melting due to climate change, until the middle of the last century, Colombia had a total of 14 snow-capped mountains with their respective glacial areas. Today, many have rapidly lost their ice cover: Cumbal (in Nariño, gone in 1950), Chiles (near Nariño, gone in 1950), Sotará (in Cauca, gone in 1948), Pan de Azúcar (in Boyacá, gone in 1960), Nevado del Quindío (in Quindío, gone in 1960), Sierra Nevada de los Coconucos (no date recorded for when ice melted), and Púlpito del Diablo, which, although it still has a beautiful white blanket around it, was once completely covered in snow.
Today, six of them are engaged in an exhausting struggle for survival.
This is extremely alarming, considering the crucial role that snow-capped mountains play in various ecosystems, where they are essential for the creation and regulation of water, vitality and health of the ecological balance, as well as being indicators of environmental and climate changes.
But their importance goes beyond our physical reality: Snow-capped mountains carry symbolic, spiritual and sacred value, as Indigenous communities have always considered them since time immemorial.
This is the case with the Nasa people, to whom I belong, who have always inhabited the steep slopes of Nxadx Wila — Nevado del Huila in Spanish — one of the six mountain temples that still stand white in the heart of the Colombian Andes.
It is worth noting and highlighting the benefits that Nxadx Wila has brought to our region: providing waters that flow like arteries to the seas, crossing forests, valleys and communities with countless encounters and interactions that are linked to the emergence of life itself.
However, today we feel the anguished and inclement sigh of a mountain like Nxadx Wila.
In the collective memory of the Nasa people, it is remembered as overflowing with snow, and in the circle of words of our communities, it is described as “the luminous mountain” for its incessant glow under the light of day and moonlit nights.
But now it holds a shadow. It is a stark contrast of snow and rock, increasingly painted in ochre, that once had giant masses of white ice, yet now it is a void that threatens the cultural heritage of those who live here. This makes us pause and reflect on the present moment, on this image and symbol that has always been a marker of identity for our community but now seems to be part of the cry lost in the middle of the intertwined mountains of the central mountain range.
Based on what we see, we can affirm that the early disappearance of glaciers opens the door to thirst and the vulnerability of living things in the region. This is worrying because it threatens to break the interconnection between all living beings in this place, linked together in this Andean world, that is part of a larger, interdependent and conscious whole. Part of this connection is us, and the identity, worldview and spirituality of my people.
Creating values that prevent more impacts
Now, this connection between people and the environment cannot stop the predicted death of the glaciers.
But it may open up sustainable alternatives for communities. This can also create a shield that protects key ecosystems such as moorlands, lagoons and rivers and regulates water, playing a vital role in the care of life itself.
It is, in my opinion, our values, and how these belief systems manifest themselves in our societies and cultures, that help determine whether we can slow or cushion the impacts of these melting glaciers. Our perceptions condition our actions.
The global industrialization of “developed” countries and large companies, through an imperialist and capitalist paradigm, is destroying life systems, regardless of the environmental and cultural cost. This irrational and excessive plundering reduces our view of life to mere “resources,” leading to massive greenhouse gas emissions and the excessive burning of fossil fuels, which in turn accelerates the melting and disappearance of glaciers.
This speaks to a disconnect from the moral consequences of extractive and predatory actions, driven by an ideology and values that prioritize economic growth and capital accumulation above all else. As a result, people, cultures, communities, beings and even the very land we inhabit are seen as a means to an end rather than an end in themselves.
This worldview breaks the spiritual and physical connection with ancestral environments, affecting subsistence practices and threatening traditional knowledge.
In short, it is not about domination but about coexisting in a ritual where values become a tangible expression of profound ideas and actions in the service of the relationships between human beings and the world of the mountains. Today, the glaciers are melting, and with them, a chapter of our collective memory is fading away. And what remains will also depend on what we do today.
Banner image: Yesid Achicue, an Indigenous mountain guide from the Cauca region in Colombia. Image courtesy of Yesid Achicue.
Yesid Achicue is an Indigenous mountain guide from the Cauca region in Colombia. He organizes community-based mountaineering tours in the Andes’ glaciers for local and international trekkers to learn about the glaciers’ ecological and cultural importance to nearby communities.
The series is produced by the collective Passu Creativa, with the support of Earth Alliance, and published by Mongabay.
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