Giant Skies For Tiny Earths

Directly after classes ended, I packed up and moved to a farm on Vancouver Island. I am completing this assignment from the tiny but beautiful living accommodations which I share with two other apprentices. I have been here for two weeks now and have been truly loving it. The work is hard but rewarding, the farm manager has amazing knowledge that he shares often and willingly, and the two girls who I live, work, and spend all my free time with are lovely and inspiring. We harvest eggs, buy raw milk from our neighbors down the road, cook and eat together daily. Island people are good and kind. Tonight a complete stranger handed me his keys when my truck’s battery died so I could drive down the road and find jumper cables from the gas station.  I am committed to being here for a year, and feel the knowledge, and experience I gain here will be invaluable.

After returning from japan, it was back to school for my last semester.  Adjusting back to the school routine was somewhat challenging after a semester off. Mostly it was good to be back among friends and back in my comfort zone for a little while. However, returning to school helped me to realize that academic life has run its course for me. I became excited about graduating and starting seriously as a farmer, the profession that has become a goal and a dream for me.

Upon returning from Halifax, I had four days to prepare for the next stage of a whirlwind year.I had sublet my apartment to a friend, so I crashed on my own couch while  I packed, exchanged money,  and visited as many friends as possible, before boarding a plane to Japan. The initial purpose of the trip was to attend the International Student Summit on Food, Agriculture, and the Environment in Tokyo.  I attended the conference with classmate Emma Avery, and Professor Andrew Riseman. The conference was student run and organized, and the first few days were about experiencing Japanese culture and work shopping and discussing the format of the presentations. Living in close quarters, we quickly befriended many of the other students who were attending from countries all around the world. One immediate challenge was the language barrier. Despite being held in Japan, the entire conference was conducted in English. The majority of participants where non-native English speakers. Even in light of the immense talent of these students, as two of only 5 native English speakers, we had a distinct advantage. We had the advantage of understanding more quickly and thoroughly what was being said, and the advantage of speaking without hesitation or self doubt. This often meant that unintentionally, we often had more of a voice and a say in the proceedings.  This was a first hand demonstration of the privileged being a native English speaker brings in this world.  We tried our best to be aware of this privileged, to mediate it and not to abuse it.

I was lucky enough to stay in Japan for 3 and a half months in total. After the conference I traveled for a bit, and then worked on a number of organic farms. Farming in Japan was my favorite part of my trip by far. I lived with some families and was treated extremely well. It was so interesting to learn about organic farming in Japan, to see how it was different and similar to farming in Canada, and to feel welcomed into the lives of such amazing farmers.

For the exercise of writing 4 blog posts for GRS, I have decided to reflect on the 4 events that made up my fall 2013 and spring 2014 year. A year of constant change, upheaval, and growth.

The first event was a bike trip which began at the end of August 2013.  I flew east with my friend Panthea in to Halifax where we started our ride. Our first time riding with bikes fully loaded was the journey from the airport. A terrifying two hours on a tiny shouldered road, with crazy traffic. We spent a few days with friends in Halifax, then began riding up the south east coast, through Antiganish, and up to Belle Cote, a tiny town at the start of the Cabbot trail on Cape Bretton Island.  Here we stayed for a week at a house owned by Panthea’s grandparents before continuing. A week of rain spent comfortably in a wood stove heated house with lots of books which overlooked a river, and 40 km by bike from groceries. A tiny tiny firsthand lesson in food security for two city girls.  Onward.  The Cabbot Trail took us about 5 days, with some killer hills (mountains), some killer rain, a bear sighting, some killer views, and some amazing kindness from strangers.  After tackling a mountain in the rain and rolling into a campsite soaking wet and freezing to find no firewood, we debated about offering to pay the one other campsite resident to drive to the nearest town and buy us some. Before we could, he offered up his own supply on his own accord. Amazing. After the Cabbot Trail, we caught an overnight ferry to Newfoundland. Upon arriving we were met with fog so thick we could only see 3 feet in front of ourselves, unsafe for biking, we were encouraged by the little old ladies in the visitor’s center to hitchhike. Throughout the day we caught rides from several different guys all with pickup trucks. One looked 80 but bragged about being 60, and smoking 120 cigarettes a day. Another lesson in humanity and kindness.

Over all the bike trip pushed my physical limits, expanded my understanding about what I could accomplish, and inspired me to push my self further in the future. After returning to Halifax, I parted ways with Panthea and few home to Vancouver, only to embark on part two of my epic year, only 4 days later.

Hear I sit on the last possible day to submit this blog, and I am still finding it a challenge.  I am disappointed in myself because I want to use this space well.  I see great value in blogging,  I see it as an incredible, free, widely accessible way to share thoughts and ideas, yet I think there is a dichotomy to this space.  This content has the potential to be read by anyone which makes me feel pressured to be pithy, witty, and clever, yet I know the reality is that it will be read by very very few (hi Alisha), and that leaves me feeling a little like I am shouting into the void. I see blogging as a way to expand our bubbles, and GRS is pretty bubbly.  We are all rather like minded to begin with, and even within the program we tend to gel with those who are most similar to ourselves.  I think this is natural in any situation.  Its comfortable, encouraging,  and not necessarily a bad thing. Yet I find myself somewhat unable to communicate my ideas and ideals when I am confronted with those who hold a different world view, that is to say, when I step out of my bubble.  I am currently out, home in Edmonton for the Christmas break, and it’s a little shocking that the people surrounding me here don’t spend all their thoughts on  food, or food systems, or sustainability.  I am often finding myself with out anything to talk about and I fear that it is making me a little boring.  But I am trying to accept this, eating the food placed in front of me without raging that the salad came from a plastic clam-shell, because I have raged in the past and I don’t think it’s very effective.  I fell like blogging might be a method to communicate ideas with out raging, or at least raging in a considered, well edited manner.