For Lefxaru Nawel, a member of the Mapuche Confederation of Neuquén, the air breathed by communities surrounding the Vaca Muerta oil and gas field is becoming increasingly polluted. In this interview for Pulso Ambiental magazine (Issue No. 25), Lefxaru denounces the emission of gases such as methane, the resulting respiratory and health problems, the lack of access to basic services, and the environmental consequences of an industry that continues to expand with every new well drilled.

Methane is a highly polluting gas that is rarely discussed. How does your community experience this issue, and what concerns does this gas, derived from oil production, raise?

The Mapuche communities living in the area now known as Vaca Muerta have suffered from pollution since the first wells were drilled in the 1960s. However, since the 1990s—when conventional drilling expanded—air pollution has become more evident, both from gas emissions and from suspended dust caused by increased drilling activity. This affects the health of people, animals, and plants. The damage is especially visible in the vegetation. Oil waste dumps and gas venting—controlled or accidental releases of gases such as methane into the atmosphere—are common and often occur without oversight. There are also sand processing plants located near communities that fail to comply with environmental standards. This is a very windy region, with gusts reaching up to 100 kilometers per hour, which means that the air is frequently filled with blowing sand and pollutants. This is one of our main concerns. It is often invisible, but you can smell it.

In Argentina, air quality monitoring is limited, and data on health impacts are scarce. Has your community been able to document or record this air pollution?

Respiratory diseases are very common. This has drawn more attention to air quality, but both the provincial government—responsible for regulation—and the judiciary lack the technology and capacity to monitor it, particularly for methane and similar gases. During a visit from the organization Earthworks, we were able to use specialized cameras and equipment that made the emissions visible. One of the clearest indicators of the problem is the number of people with respiratory illnesses in the area. The smell is particularly noticeable in the summer, while in winter it is masked by the widespread use of firewood. Gas venting and the burning of oil waste often occur at night to conceal the visual impact, but communities still feel the effects. In the central zone of Vaca Muerta—between Añelo, Tratayen, and Sauzal Bonito, a beautiful valley along the Neuquén River—a toxic cloud often covers the horizon at dawn, a result of the night’s venting operations. It is a paradoxical situation: gas and oil are extracted in enormous quantities here, yet many residents lack access to basic energy services such as gas or electricity. At night, people can see the constant glow of venting on the horizon, some flares are enormous and produce loud noise. This gas is released into the atmosphere to prevent pipeline explosions. The gas that does not reach our homes is instead released into the air. This highlights how irrational this extractive model is, one that prioritizes company profits over the wellbeing of the population. Worse still, some companies propose using this vented gas for cryptocurrency mining, which requires extremely high energy consumption. Meanwhile, local communities continue to live without reliable access to water, gas, or electricity. For instance, in Sauzal Bonito, the Wirkalew lof recently obtained electricity—with partial financing from Tecpetrol—only after sustained direct action by the Mapuche Confederation of Neuquén. Initiatives that could truly improve people’s lives are rarely prioritized, while corporate “greenwashing” programs receive more attention. Companies now speak of decarbonization and greenhouse gas reduction, but their focus remains on profits, not on public welfare. Air quality in Neuquén is a serious concern. In my community’s school, for example, absenteeism increases sharply in winter because almost all children suffer from respiratory problems, ranging from mild symptoms to severe illnesses such as COPD and pneumonia. Air pollution worsens in winter, when people burn whatever materials they can find for heating. Combined with industrial and household waste, this makes the air nearly unbreathable. Pollution disproportionately affects marginalized populations, particularly in urban and peri-urban areas. We have opposed the construction of an oxidation pond and now an asphalt and concrete plant near one of our communities. We describe this situation as environmental racism: industries and their most polluting activities are always located near Indigenous or low-income populations living in the most vulnerable conditions.

As werken (spokesperson) of the Mapuche Confederation of Neuquén, you are in contact with many communities. Are health statistics transparent? Is there official information available, and are your concerns being heard?

In areas near oil operations, people’s health is clearly more affected. In my community, almost all children suffer from bronchospasms. On the Añelo plateau—an active oil-producing zone—the small clinic that serves the local population becomes overwhelmed every winter with patients suffering from respiratory illnesses. The government has not taken responsibility, and the health system remains precarious. The Añelo health center even had to request a spirometer, which was eventually provided by an oil company. These corporate donations are heavily publicized to portray a positive image, but in reality, these same companies are the main polluters. We have repeatedly tried to access epidemiological data from health centers and hospitals, but this information is withheld. Retired public officials have confirmed that the provincial government systematically blocks efforts to compile such statistics in areas affected by oil production. Authorities cite patient privacy laws to justify withholding the data, but we are not asking for names, only for information on the causes of the widespread illnesses in our communities. Scientific studies have already proven the cumulative impact of air pollution on human health. A federal judicial investigation conducted by the Supreme Court’s expert body found contamination in urban, peri-urban, and rural areas of Añelo, including pollution of the Los Barreales and Mari Menuco lakes. The study concluded that inhaling polluted air has an even stronger impact on health than consuming contaminated food or water. Chronic exposure affects the nervous, respiratory, endocrine, and immune systems, as well as vital organs such as the lungs and kidneys. Medical diagnoses rarely mention the environmental cause; they simply record diseases like respiratory failure, kidney disease, or cancer. This is why the government avoids compiling official statistics—because they would expose the direct health impacts of the oil and gas industry. Similar cases worldwide show that when communities win lawsuits, part of the compensation is directed to the public health system, which bears the burden of treating pollution-related diseases. The extractive industry thus affects not only the population but also public healthcare, which must respond to rising illness rates. For example, in Argentina today, the Garrahan Children’s Hospital—a leading pediatric center in Buenos Aires—is facing underfunding and staff shortages. Many Indigenous children affected by pollution must travel there for specialized care. This situation reveals the broader chain of inequality: while the government promotes extractive industries and grants them tax breaks and subsidies under policies like the RIGI (Incentive Regime for Large Investments), it simultaneously weakens Indigenous institutions such as the National Institute of Indigenous Affairs (INAI) and reduces public services. The result is a system that privileges corporate profit over human rights, health, and environmental protection.

Communities that raise their voices often face criminalization or indifference. What do you envision for the future of your community, the valley, and the province of Neuquén?

All these destructive projects are being met with resistance—not only from Mapuche communities but also from other local residents who are realizing that this extractive model does not bring prosperity. Instead, it leaves pollution, poverty, and debt. Neuquén is currently the most indebted province per capita in Argentina, due both to poor governance and to the economic model imposed by corporations. The life plans of our communities are our main form of resistance and our projection for the future. If our water, air, and land are contaminated, there can be no possibility of a healthy or dignified life. That is the foundation of our struggle. We are also one of the main obstacles to the oil industry’s expansion. To address methane and greenhouse gas emissions, local participation is essential, not only from Indigenous peoples but from all affected populations. Air monitoring must be community-led and transparent. Any plan to mitigate climate change impacts must prioritize the local population. If vented gas is to be reused for electricity generation, it should serve local needs, not cryptocurrency mining. False solutions like crypto or carbon offsetting schemes are designed for business interests, not community wellbeing. Real solutions must be based on local needs and rights, through meaningful consultation and planning for a post-hydrocarbon future. For example, the provincial government’s proposal to “mitigate” emissions by planting exotic conifers in the mountains is misguided. These trees contribute to soil degradation and large wildfires. Instead, policies must focus on those most affected by the oil industry and on restoring local ecosystems. We live in a vast and fertile valley between the Neuquén, Limay, and Negro rivers, an area with the potential for genuine prosperity based on wellbeing, not extraction. That is what must be defended from destructive megaprojects like Vaca Muerta Sur, which lock the region into decades of environmental harm. True energy transition and climate action require the participation of Indigenous peoples and local communities, ensuring that no one is left behind.

Finally, what is happening at Lake Mari Menuco?

The situation at Mari Menuco illustrates what is at stake. Oil companies—Pan American Energy and YPF—seek to reduce costs by drilling beneath a lake that supplies water to more than 600,000 people, and hundreds of thousands more in Río Negro province. The plan is to use fracking beneath the lakebed, despite the high risk of contamination. Local communities have mobilized against this, demanding that the area remain off-limits to extraction. We have filed legal and administrative appeals, but provincial courts have rejected them. This reflects the broader conflict: corporations pursuing profits at any cost, supported by a government that prioritizes their interests, versus a growing social movement defending life and territory. More than 40 organizations now form part of the Save Mari Menuco campaign, including groups that previously did not speak out on environmental issues. This is not only an ecological concern but also a social and economic one that affects our collective future. The Kaxipayiñ community has successfully prevented drilling within its recognized territory, but operations continue just outside its boundaries, still endangering the lake. These realities are often censored in mainstream media and ignored by political parties, but grassroots organizations are keeping the debate alive, and defending the right to a livable future.