Man I love this community farm! They had the farmers market set up today which was definitely part of the reason I wanted to go. Today’s time was spent working on weeding, trimming the tree, general maintenance, and tomfoolery. I sawed through a couple of large branches, and broke them down, which was pretty fun. I also helped some of the kid reconstruct a wooden box with nails and hammers. Definitely not the prettiest or best constructed, but totally workable. And I also gathered the eggs from the coop, four in total, two of which I was allowed to take home! They were turned in to scrambled eggs and outstanding in their clean and subtle taste. It’s a noticeable difference (especially in color) but not overly significant. Still, if I can get my hands on any more, I am.
The work done by the community garden was amazing. The farm exploded in produce and greenery from the last time I was there. The bees were frantically busy. The chickens were chilling in the shade. Vines nearly overwhelming the once barren structures, loaded with all different kinds of goods. The kids were great. Mark was there. I met a nice teenager in Queen, who Satu and I shared a gentle ribbing of her unexcitable teenage personality. And how we had shared the same tendencies at the same age. I guess I’ve become an old man.
What amazing is how much of the farm affects the community it’s involved in. Everyone in the community loves the farms, there are often parents bringing in kids for tours and activities. All of the people are really nice and supportive and thank me for volunteering. The students are brought in and given opportunities and taught about science and work and business. People grow and harvest their produce and the market sells it back to the neighborhood, giving 90 to the farmer and 10 back to the center. The compost is all collected, broken down, and given back to the surrounding families. The bees no doubt pollinate the area’s flowers and their honey is also sold. The water is collected from the roofs of nearby buildings, assisting drainage burdens and making the farm more water sustainable. There’s a list dozens of people long for half a dozen chicken eggs [and yes, I’m on it].
One of the center’s next activities planned was to bring some students upstate for a camping trip. I talked to one Satu who said the point was to educate the students on the entire gauntlet of nature to give them better decisions making skills by introducing a well rounded and encompassing education on nutrition and food and the scope of the world. Satu’s mom actually started the program, and used to rent land each time. But she decided to invest in property, and now that’s the site of the trip.
I met the grant director who I was helping trim the large willow tree that hung over the pond with the koi fish. By his own admission he wears a lot of hats, not only doing farm labor but also overseeing/teaching some of the kid intern groups and doing the grant writing.
I also sampled a lot of the produce right off the vines, from string beans to tomatoes, chili peppers to herbs, cucumbers and spinach.
I got eaten alive from the mosquitos that were nesting in the still water from the last few rainstorms. Over 60 bites that I can count, between my legs and my arms. I should have worn jeans, but it was so hot! I did kill half a dozen myself, which I would like to note as additional global community service because fuck mosquitos.
The produce was noticeably tastier as I picked my way through some of the choice veggies. [I swear, just research reasons] A outstanding roma tomato, just a blush of yellow. Really silky texture, you could see it as an outstanding tomato puree.
A green bird chili that was hot and flavorful in thin beaks of pain, I paired with a hearty but refreshing cucumber, crunching mouthfuls to calm the heat.
I was surprised at the sheer amount of it, so much swiss chard and tomatoes and zucchini, it was almost shocking the quantity of food for the area it was a part of. But lots of the ripe/overipe stuff I saw was eaten by bugs or something. They must be consistently harvesting to avoid leaving them too long. I’m interested to know the amount of spoilage between farm to table. It’s got to be kind of extreme, if at every step there are losses. They don’t use any pesticides.
I promised myself to buy a couple things at the farmers market. I picked up a few herbs, no produce though. [I really only needed some bok choy, and there was none.] I also bought food, breaking my vegetarianism, for a delicious chicken stew, mac and cheese, and okra bowl from a table at the farmers market. My last purchase was an original hot sauce made from a lady who has a bed in the farm. Pauline’s. Apparently, she’s Jamaican, owns a farm in Jamaica and a couple of beds in multiple neighborhood arms and sort of just farms to make a living.
The hot sauce is delicious. Scotch Bonnet, Habenaro, carrot juice, papaya. It’s devilishly edible. Hot and tangy and delicious. Filled with flavor, I use it in excess. But it does hurt, be wary.
I definitely went with it because of watching so much Hot Ones. The Host is great, watch it. They get amazing answers from everyone because the hot sauce inspires comedy and honesty. And the host really can play with it.
Anyway, you get a choice on how to use your money. It’s an economic way to change the world around. That might be charity donations. That might be buying fair trade, or green/efficient electronics. Here, importantly, I think I am using my money in an intelligent way, to give back to a new community. Not only did I get delicious, uncommon food which might be my favorite thing, [and so satisfying after literally working in the farm for 4 hours] but yeah it supports a local community with economic investment.
And I’m nowhere perfect, the Instagram picture has that starbucks in the corner for a reason.
RantIncoming: Look. Look. If I start to think too hard about Charlotteville, Racism, that no one is willing to talk to anyone, we’re all just fucking specks of nothing on a slightly bigger speck of water&rock, hurling at unimaginable speed through the incomprehensible infinity of the universe and physics, and we can’t just fucking get along for the literal relative nothing that is our lives and the lives of everyone we’ll ever know or love, gets me so angry and sad and helpless and hurt that I don’t even have the words to say anything that truly captures it. But here’s a truth and fuck everyone else for their many sides. I helped. I got up. Did the work. Spent my money mostly mindfully. Talked and hung out with these awesome people. Tried to be kind and helpful. Because fuck the hate, this funny speck of a world is better than the infinite nothing. And it’s better and kinder and tastier and more satisfying than anything you could imagine. I’m here to make it better, it’s always a small step, it’s always pushing the boulder up only to have it fall back down. But that’s the struggle. That’s what we’re here to do. And it honestly really turns out that other people feel about the same way. Every kid, every fellow volunteer, every community I’ve tried to help. They’re all filled with good people. Differences don’t make anyone less human. They just make it less visible to us. But three steps in the right direction, at a neutrality, reveals the reflection of all you in me and me in all you.