Clotheslines and Permanence

The countdown is on and in case you're not keeping up we are down to 3 weeks, 21 days until I am back on Cincy soil. Truthfully I am a mixed bag of thoughts and emotions. There is something so comforting about knowing that I am coming home, back to my roots, back to my real life, back to my family and friends. But since I've been gone I have had moments of questioning if I could be that wild, free, untamed, nomadic woman inside and maybe stay or go to some other exotic place. I've been here for over 2 months now and while I've called it home it hasn't felt that way. I recognize that I have been holding something back, keeping a part of me hidden. Maybe it's been a way to protect myself or maybe the lack of the familiar made me feel lost or maybe I'm just not cut out for this kind of adventure. Don't get me wrong this has been amazing but it's made me realize that home isn't as much of a place as it is the existence of the people you love. It makes Cincinnati look like the most beautiful place in the world. If I could just transplant the beach it would be perfect. The next few weeks are going to fly and I'm hoping to be present in this place so that I can enjoy the time rather than living focused on how many days until I'm home. With that said there will remain the awareness that soon I will be back and I look forward to remaking a home once I'm there. A home where I can laugh with friends, hike with Kenya, dig my hands into non volcanic soil, have a garden, grow vegetables, knit, sew with mom, drink tea, make soup, and have a clothesline, a real picture of permanence.

Swan Dive into Shallow Fair Trade

Those of you who know me are already accustomed to my passion and those of you who have been following this blog since I left Cincy are probably pretty familiar by now with my tendency to become a bit ruthless when it comes to all things fair trade, organic, environment, sustainability, etc. I have recently been accused of being an idealist (you know who you are) and this was not complimentary but a general statement about the problem of idealists not being effective in changing things.
After an entry about why I do what I do, where I spoke of what I call shallow fair trade, I have been challenged by those who believe that big companies jumping on the Fair Trade wagon will do more for the advancement of the movement than all of the small companies combined. So I have decided to readdress this subject.
Here is the catch when Walmart, P&G, Nestle, and Starbucks buy into Fair Trade they have the power to introduce it to a larger market but what is lost in the process? The big boys get involved so they can use the label to increase their profit margins rather than supporting the goals of fair trade. And as more of the big corporations enter the mix the more the standards and integrity of the label erode. There is a huge difference between companies that stock their shelves with FT certified products and the companies that live by the FT principles.
This distinction is already evident with Walmart and organics. Seeing the profitability in organics, in 2006 Walmart announced that they were going to expand their organic offerings. The Cornucopia Institute recently found Walmart selling non-organic food products with the organic label. As well as non-organic produce being stocked in the organic sections and shelf labels advertising organic under non-organic products. It seems, not surprisingly, that Walmart has applied it's standard business model to organics. So what's to stop them from doing the same with fair trade offerings?
I guess this is my answer to the people that believe these companies hold more power for change than idealists like me. At what cost?

The Farm Bill

Since 1988 the biotech industry and industrial food corporations have unsuccessfully tried to take away local and state rights to ban or regulate genetically modified organisms and other controversial foods and crops. Failing to suppress grassroots control over food safety laws and labels in the last session of Congress, the big industry boys have now called on their friends in the House Subcommittee on Livestock, Dairy, and Poultry to slip their poison into an obscure section of the 2007-2012 Farm Bill.
The section in question follows:

SEC. 123. EFFECT OF USDA INSPECTION AND DETERMINATION OF NON-REGULATED STATUS.
* Prevents a State or locality from prohibiting an article the Secretary of Agriculture has inspected and passed, or an article the Secretary has determined to be of nonregulated status.

This provision would give the White House appointed Secretary of Agriculture the power to eliminate local or state food and farming laws. What does this mean? This broad statement basically says that if the USDA says something is safe, a state or local government is not allowed to regulate it. For example, there have been a number of counties around the country that have banned genetically modified organisms (see blog archive on soil). If passed in the Farm Bill this provision would void those local laws and set an ominous precedent undermining state rights.

My fellow Ohioans Jean Schmidt, like it or not, is our congresswoman and a member of the subcommittee. If anyone wants to write or call her to let her know how concerned we are and our desire to have the provision repealed here's her number.
P (202) 225-3164 F (202) 226-1992

"A nation that destroys it soils destroys itself." FDR

Hawaii is one of those unique places on this earth where a fully off the grid, sustainable life seems not only possible but almost easy. Not that I think for one minute that farming itself is easy but that this climate allows for ease in incorporating those types of changes into your lifestyle. There is no heating or cooling here, and because of the hight cost of water most people have catchment tanks that collect and reuse their rain water. At Dragon's Lair our water is then heated by solar panels on the roof of the house. And then there is the food situation. The growing season is year round so you can live off your land without having to rely on canning or preserving. The more I read about the state of our food and land this is becoming all the more tempting. Now of course your trade off for this kind of life is that cost of living in 35-40% higher in Hawaii than the rest of the US. Ouch!

But having a direct relationship with the food I am eating has caused me to think even more about where our country is headed. I find it troubling that the big corporations control so much of the world's food as well as the patents on our seeds. Humans and animals are being poisoned from the chemicals that are being sprinkled over crops and are now contaminating the earth's water, soil, and air. Disease causing bacteria are building immunity to the antibiotics that are administered to livestock in factory farms while those farm animals are living in miserable conditions. GMO's are everywhere: 81% of soy, 40% of corn, and 73% of canola is genetically engineered. Billions of tons of fossil fuel are used to transport our food from one end of the earth to the other and sometimes back again contributing to global warming. Monoculture crops are being subsidized by the government and we are losing diversity, depleting the soil, and putting the land at risk. And family farms are going out of business.

All of this can cause a person to become pretty hopeless. Thankfully the slow food movement, organics, the local food movement and lots of organizations and books are making people aware of how their choices effect not only the enviroment but our health. You can see again why a life in Hawaii is so appealing with the ease of sustainability. I read something the other day that gave me a bit more hope and put a smile on my face. A Federal judge in Califormia set precedent when he ruled that the USDA's approval of Monsanto's genetically engineered "Roundup Ready" alfalfa was illegal. The Judge called on USDA to ban any further planting of the GE seed until it conducts a complete Environmental Impact Statement on the GE crop. Yeah for the environment. There is hope yet.

Real Women Drive Trucks

That's my ride and for those of you who have missed my goofiness and uncanny ability to embarass myself, boy do I have a picture for you. Imagine if you will, your's truly over here, used to driving a Jetta trying to drive this pickup. I thought I would make you all chuckle by telling you of my adventure trying to get this sucker up the driveway. First of all can someone please explain to me the difference between H2 and H4? And I think there's another gear on the 4 wheel drive shifter thing but I couldn't be bothered since it was a different letter. The grade of the farm is seriously intense and you cannot hope to get up or down without 4 wheel drive. This posed a problem for me since I didn't even know how to get it into 4 wheel drive. I finally put it in H4, whatever that means, and was up the drive in no time. Then when returning I had to back into the parking spot. I put it in H4 again and went for it, except I was in drive not reverse and whoops there's the fence. So I put it in reverse and took a deep breath. And this is where I would like to have words with the previous owners of this farm. Why did they plant the coffee trees so close to the parking spot? Lining it none the less? I successfully parked that behemoth but I gotta tell you the twig borer are not going to be the biggest reducer in viable crop...the new truck driver will be.

"The War Prayer"

This blog is the perfect place to lay my passions, convictions, and political beliefs on the table. But on this Memorial Day I thought instead of preaching about non violent social change and everyone's right to freedom and autonomy I would allow Mark Twain to do the talking.
Here is a poem Twain wrote in response to the Spanish American War.

"The War Prayer"

It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety's sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.
Sunday morning came -- next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight with martial dreams -- visions of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! Then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation
*God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!*
Then came the "long" prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory --
An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher's side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued with his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, "Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!"
The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside -- which the startled minister did -- and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:
"I come from the Throne -- bearing a message from Almighty God!" The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. "He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import -- that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of -- except he pause and think.
"God's servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two -- one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this -- keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor's crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.
"You have heard your servant's prayer -- the uttered part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it -- that part which the pastor -- and also you in your hearts -- fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these words: 'Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!' That is sufficient. the *whole* of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory--*must* follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!
"O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle -- be Thou near them! With them -- in spirit -- we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it -- for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.
(*After a pause.*) "Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits!"
It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said.

100 years later and the things he wrote about are being enacted all over again. American soldiers committing atrocities and torture; authority figures extolling the virtue of America 'rescuing' people from tyranny; the religious duty of the White Man to those poor heathens, greed, and exploitation, etc. Ok so maybe I am using this as a platform. But seriously haven't we learned that violence and aggression only leads to increased conflict?

Twig Borers aka My New Enemy

I have been working on this farm for 8 weeks now and it has been a huge learning experience. I came to the painful realization Friday that work on a farm, especially an organic farm, is never complete. For the 8 weeks I've been here I have been charged with the task of weeding, either by hand or using a weedwhacker. We finally completed the 5 acres about 3 weeks ago and it felt great to have accomplished something, to see results from my labor. Friday I was to begin a new project, ridding all the infected trees of the twig borers. I set out at the bottom of the farm and as I began I noticed that the weeds had already grown back around the trees. So much for my sense of accomplishment. Never again will I complain about the price of organic produce.
Now about those twig borers or ambrosia beetle or for their technical name, Xylosandrus compactus...
The female beetles bore holes into the branches of the coffee trees and cause a white fungus to grow (ambrosia), and then she lays her eggs on top of this fungus for her young to feed on once they hatch. The hole-boring process causes the branch tips to wilt, turn yellow, and then eventually die. This obviously creates problems for the coffee farmers because the death of these branches cuts back on the amount of viable crop. The trees are most succeptible to the twig borer during times of drought when they aren't getting the nutrients they need and are therefore stressed. The Kona coffee farmer has been dealing with a drought since 2003 so these little suckers have been reproducing in record numbers.
There seems to be no way to control these buggers. The safest way to help is to keep the trees healthy by frequent watering and fertilization. I am currently trying to get rid of the branches that are already affected. The prominent sign of infestation is premature yellowing of the leaves. Once the branches are located we bend them to test for weakness. If infested the branch will break where the beetle entered and then we remove and destroy them.
If my 8 weeks have taught me anything it's that when all the twig borers are destroyed there is sure to be something else to occupy my days. Maybe I will start unwrapping vines...again.