May 10 2011
Andrea: 29, Torino native, followed his father's career of financial analysis, began to travel, and woke up. Quit working with his father, WWOOFed in Australia, New Zealand, and Argentina. Has not really worked for four years as he tries to figure out the world. In the meantime, has WWOOFed on over twenty Italian farms, one in every region. Between farms, returns home to Torino to bring back to life his grandfather's country home, its garden, and hundreds of hazelnut trees. Now considering hosting WWOOFers of his own. Still not quite sure if he is ready to live this life on the farm permanently--at the age of twenty-nine choosing isolation with the threat of almost no income and all neighbors over the age of sixty is a difficult decision to make--but he is surely trying.
I met him on my WWOOFing travels and told him that I would come to his farm to help him out, so at the end of my time on Finocchio Verde, I joined him in the country. His life there is not glamorous, and it is not easy. When I see someone older doing it, especially surrounded by a WWOOFer or two, it seems beautiful and exciting, but when I see someone else my age doing it, it somehow seems melancholic. Waking up everyday by yourself to water plants, all so that you can eat the fruits of your labor...by yourself. I never will be able to do something like this alone. As one who is dependent upon sociality, community is of the utmost importance for me. That said, I applaud him. He is slowly fitting into the lifestyle, but young and restless like me, he knows that there is a small part of him that still has the disposition to up and move to Cuba and leave everything. On the farm, he is slowly working his own land and perhaps spending more time with his eighty-three year old neighbor, not only helping but learning from his experience.
I wish I had his guts! ...I also wish I had his grandfather's empty country house to inherit. I would set it up to become a WWOOFers paradise, find some way to make income (maybe first write a "grant" request to WWOOF Italy, asking for start up cash, and then instead of selling nuts from the trees as commodities, baking hazelnut cakes or making hazelnut butters to sell in the local town, at the churches, and in Torino.) As is the case with almost any commodity, selling hazelnuts alone pays next to nothing; you need some sort of markup, for better or worse.
I would return to Italy to help a fellow WWOOFer make an idea like this come to life! We already talked about getting married: for me a European passport would be convenient, and likewise for him with an American passport. Neither of us are very keen on traditional marriage in life, anyway, in the meanwhile we might as well use the institution for something mutually beneficial, yeah?
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
WWOOF Italy: WWOOFing Without Work
8 May 2011
It can happen that a farmer has too many workers at once with not enough work for them to do. At times six WWOOFers will request to come in a certain period and in the end only one will show up, and at other times every single one will decide to come, making it difficult to get the numbers exactly right. WWOOFers coming and going, depending on the farm, can be difficult on a farmer, as each time new ones need to be trained. That is why on this farm, the host requests a minimum of a three week stay. Then the WWOOFer begins to understand his place and can work without needing guidance.
Unfortunately, I have not reached that point, here. Everyday, when I ask, “what needs to be done today?” I can tell that the farmer and his wife avoid it; they would prefer not to have to find a job for us or stop to show us. Today, for example, I have done nothing. All morning I sat and waited for a job, and finally I got one in the garden about a half hour before lunch. Right after lunch, however, it began to rain, right away ending garden work for the rest of the day.
It can happen that a farmer has too many workers at once with not enough work for them to do. At times six WWOOFers will request to come in a certain period and in the end only one will show up, and at other times every single one will decide to come, making it difficult to get the numbers exactly right. WWOOFers coming and going, depending on the farm, can be difficult on a farmer, as each time new ones need to be trained. That is why on this farm, the host requests a minimum of a three week stay. Then the WWOOFer begins to understand his place and can work without needing guidance.
Unfortunately, I have not reached that point, here. Everyday, when I ask, “what needs to be done today?” I can tell that the farmer and his wife avoid it; they would prefer not to have to find a job for us or stop to show us. Today, for example, I have done nothing. All morning I sat and waited for a job, and finally I got one in the garden about a half hour before lunch. Right after lunch, however, it began to rain, right away ending garden work for the rest of the day.
WWOOF Italy: More on Agritourisms
7 May 2011
At this farm the agritourism was added seven years ago in addition to a small garden, olive trees, vinyard, the sheep and goats, the cheese production, and the bees. Agritourism in Italy can mean two things: or beds for a stay and/or a restaurant. Here they have both. Beds cost about 25€ per person and meals about 15 €. The few beds that they do have are secondary, though; most people come for the restaurant. The “restaurant” is basically the dining room where the family always eats. Everyone in the restaurant eats together at the same time and at the same table, and unless there is no room, the family and the WWOOFers join them. There is one meal and I doubt that guests are told what it will be in advance: basically they come to be fed by Mario and Isa. Most of the food comes from the farm: cheeses, sausages (made on the farm from pig meat bought from a local farmer), handmade pasta, veggies from the farm (in this season all wild growing greens), and a dessert (typically some variation on ricotta from the farm). In my experience, this farm is fairly atypical. While agritourism restaurants are obliged to use 70% of their own production in the restaurant, it seems that it rarely happens. In my interviews, in fact, this has sort of been the joke: that agritourisms rarely follow through with the goals and government criteria for agritourisms, mainly because there is nobody checking up on them.
The weekend is when most guests come to eat. This past Sunday at lunch, for example, we had a couple of two, a group of three, and a group of eleven. Lunch lasted from about 1:30 until 5:00. We, the WWOOFers, helped prepare, serve, and clean up the entire ordeal. If we had not been there to help, I do not know if such an agritourism would be possible with a farm that still functions so smoothly.
At this farm the agritourism was added seven years ago in addition to a small garden, olive trees, vinyard, the sheep and goats, the cheese production, and the bees. Agritourism in Italy can mean two things: or beds for a stay and/or a restaurant. Here they have both. Beds cost about 25€ per person and meals about 15 €. The few beds that they do have are secondary, though; most people come for the restaurant. The “restaurant” is basically the dining room where the family always eats. Everyone in the restaurant eats together at the same time and at the same table, and unless there is no room, the family and the WWOOFers join them. There is one meal and I doubt that guests are told what it will be in advance: basically they come to be fed by Mario and Isa. Most of the food comes from the farm: cheeses, sausages (made on the farm from pig meat bought from a local farmer), handmade pasta, veggies from the farm (in this season all wild growing greens), and a dessert (typically some variation on ricotta from the farm). In my experience, this farm is fairly atypical. While agritourism restaurants are obliged to use 70% of their own production in the restaurant, it seems that it rarely happens. In my interviews, in fact, this has sort of been the joke: that agritourisms rarely follow through with the goals and government criteria for agritourisms, mainly because there is nobody checking up on them.
The weekend is when most guests come to eat. This past Sunday at lunch, for example, we had a couple of two, a group of three, and a group of eleven. Lunch lasted from about 1:30 until 5:00. We, the WWOOFers, helped prepare, serve, and clean up the entire ordeal. If we had not been there to help, I do not know if such an agritourism would be possible with a farm that still functions so smoothly.
WWOOF Italy: Agritourism
4 May 2011
My fifth and final WWOOF farm! I have arrived to Finocchio Verde, a farm, agritourism in Murazzano, Italy, in the beautiful Piemonte. “Piemonte” is so called because it literally sits at the “foot of the mountains,” or the Alps. That said, it has been so overcast that I have not yet seen the glorious mountains that are supposedly surrounding us!
This is what an agritourism should be. The family consists of Isa and Mario, sixty or so sheep, forty or so goats, one horse, six or so cats (including a black one named Obama and his sister named Hillary), and six or so dogs. Then there are the WWOOFers...somewhere around seven of us, currently. There are three permanent WWOOFers (not including the three year old horror who is the child of one of them) and four short term ones currently.
Then the agritourism itself only has four beds. Four. They are available when Mario and Isa feel like having guests…and not when they do not. The agritourism also has a restaurant, where guests eat along with the family and the WWOOFers, all at the same big table. This also is open when Mario and Isa feel like hosting…and not when they do not.
Agritourism was created as a government supported concept to help farmers who may otherwise have to leave the land to find a way to support themselves. Often, you see agritourisms with something like fourteen beds (the only excuse, according to Mario, is that they must become consumed with the idea of making money). In those cases, though, either the agriculture becomes secondary, or they must hire outside help for the agritourism, OR they must hire outside help from a farmer to take over the farm responsibilities. These results of farms turned agritourism annul the agritourism's original goal, to make the farm more financially sustainable as it is. At my first agritourism in Gubbio, for example, the farm was completely secondary and completely taken care of by hired outside help, completely in contrast with agritourism's original goal.
For Isa and Mario, it is serving its exact purpose of making their farm more financially sustainable, but it is not being exploited beyond that. They are able to sell their products to their customer, but selling prepared salad in a meal that costs fifteen Euros a person is economically much better than selling it at a commodity price or not selling it directly through a market. Also, it gives them the opportunity to gain customers who will come back and continue to purchase their cheese and meat, their main products, in the future. The agritourism has not been so overwhelming that it has forced them to hire more help or give up parts of their farm work, such as the bees or the garden, but it has helped them make ends meet.
My fifth and final WWOOF farm! I have arrived to Finocchio Verde, a farm, agritourism in Murazzano, Italy, in the beautiful Piemonte. “Piemonte” is so called because it literally sits at the “foot of the mountains,” or the Alps. That said, it has been so overcast that I have not yet seen the glorious mountains that are supposedly surrounding us!
This is what an agritourism should be. The family consists of Isa and Mario, sixty or so sheep, forty or so goats, one horse, six or so cats (including a black one named Obama and his sister named Hillary), and six or so dogs. Then there are the WWOOFers...somewhere around seven of us, currently. There are three permanent WWOOFers (not including the three year old horror who is the child of one of them) and four short term ones currently.
Then the agritourism itself only has four beds. Four. They are available when Mario and Isa feel like having guests…and not when they do not. The agritourism also has a restaurant, where guests eat along with the family and the WWOOFers, all at the same big table. This also is open when Mario and Isa feel like hosting…and not when they do not.
Agritourism was created as a government supported concept to help farmers who may otherwise have to leave the land to find a way to support themselves. Often, you see agritourisms with something like fourteen beds (the only excuse, according to Mario, is that they must become consumed with the idea of making money). In those cases, though, either the agriculture becomes secondary, or they must hire outside help for the agritourism, OR they must hire outside help from a farmer to take over the farm responsibilities. These results of farms turned agritourism annul the agritourism's original goal, to make the farm more financially sustainable as it is. At my first agritourism in Gubbio, for example, the farm was completely secondary and completely taken care of by hired outside help, completely in contrast with agritourism's original goal.
For Isa and Mario, it is serving its exact purpose of making their farm more financially sustainable, but it is not being exploited beyond that. They are able to sell their products to their customer, but selling prepared salad in a meal that costs fifteen Euros a person is economically much better than selling it at a commodity price or not selling it directly through a market. Also, it gives them the opportunity to gain customers who will come back and continue to purchase their cheese and meat, their main products, in the future. The agritourism has not been so overwhelming that it has forced them to hire more help or give up parts of their farm work, such as the bees or the garden, but it has helped them make ends meet.
WWOOF Italy: WWOOFers Helping to Make Ends Meet
26 April 2011
Giancarlo lives alone in the house he grew up in..."alone" with an average of six WWOOFers at any given time. He has mainly olive trees, a garden, and an organic produce box drop off business. In essence, alone, this man organized with other local organic farms, gained clients, and now drops off boxes, general and upon request, every Wednesday and Thursday at people's doorsteps. It is a fabulous business, and it is amazing that he has somehow made it run so smoothly. It perplexes me the complexity of what he organized, and even more it perplexes me how he ever managed before the help of WWOOFers, which he has only had for the past eight months.
He needs to prepare how much produce to order every week because, only using organic, seasonal produce, the actual products change week to week and season to season. He then emails everyone who purchases a personalized box with the list on Sunday, and prepares a spreadsheet based on their requests on Monday. On Tuesday, he picks up all of the produce from several different farms, organizes it into different boxes, picks and prepares the produce from his own farm, and loads his truck for the drop offs the next morning. Wednesday he spends about ten hours dropping off boxes, returns home to prepare more, and has a shorter drop-off of more boxes on Thursday. The planning and the paperwork he does to prepare all of this is spread out through the entire week. This work consumes a good four and a half FULL days for him, so without the help of WWOOFers, I cannot imagine how he ever managed to maintain his own garden of produce before.
The work of his WWOOFers, thus, revolves around the garden and the olive trees. He has a regimented system: five hours of work a day, five days a week. We work in the morning, everyone 7:30 to 12:30, and then we enjoy the afternoon off. Giancarlo does a nice job of planning work for everyone. He either spends the time to demonstrate how the work needs to be done, or he makes sure that another one of the long-term WWOOFers can supervise. Thus, at any given time, he has between four and twelve young people doing work for him, each 25 hours a week, whether he is there with them or out running boxes of food around. That means that a HUGE amount of work is accomplished, unimaginable if it were not for WWOOFers.
WWOOFers at Giancarlo's farm are paid nothing to help his system work. However, they get exactly what they want: knowledge about agriculture and experience with it, without having their own farm.
Giancarlo lives alone in the house he grew up in..."alone" with an average of six WWOOFers at any given time. He has mainly olive trees, a garden, and an organic produce box drop off business. In essence, alone, this man organized with other local organic farms, gained clients, and now drops off boxes, general and upon request, every Wednesday and Thursday at people's doorsteps. It is a fabulous business, and it is amazing that he has somehow made it run so smoothly. It perplexes me the complexity of what he organized, and even more it perplexes me how he ever managed before the help of WWOOFers, which he has only had for the past eight months.
He needs to prepare how much produce to order every week because, only using organic, seasonal produce, the actual products change week to week and season to season. He then emails everyone who purchases a personalized box with the list on Sunday, and prepares a spreadsheet based on their requests on Monday. On Tuesday, he picks up all of the produce from several different farms, organizes it into different boxes, picks and prepares the produce from his own farm, and loads his truck for the drop offs the next morning. Wednesday he spends about ten hours dropping off boxes, returns home to prepare more, and has a shorter drop-off of more boxes on Thursday. The planning and the paperwork he does to prepare all of this is spread out through the entire week. This work consumes a good four and a half FULL days for him, so without the help of WWOOFers, I cannot imagine how he ever managed to maintain his own garden of produce before.
The work of his WWOOFers, thus, revolves around the garden and the olive trees. He has a regimented system: five hours of work a day, five days a week. We work in the morning, everyone 7:30 to 12:30, and then we enjoy the afternoon off. Giancarlo does a nice job of planning work for everyone. He either spends the time to demonstrate how the work needs to be done, or he makes sure that another one of the long-term WWOOFers can supervise. Thus, at any given time, he has between four and twelve young people doing work for him, each 25 hours a week, whether he is there with them or out running boxes of food around. That means that a HUGE amount of work is accomplished, unimaginable if it were not for WWOOFers.
WWOOFers at Giancarlo's farm are paid nothing to help his system work. However, they get exactly what they want: knowledge about agriculture and experience with it, without having their own farm.
WWOOF Italy: Pearls of Wisdom from Giancarlo
24 April 2011
The three best ways to loose your money.
The fastest way is gambling.
The funnest way is partying: sex, women, drugs, alcohol.
The slowest but most secure way: agriculture. You'll never go wrong. You'll DEFINITELY loose all of your money for good.
On the Economy.
I hope that the economic crisis gets worse. I know that people have not changed or learned because they still say, 'I have no money'. No!! There is too much money; THAT is the problem. As long as people see not having enough money as their problem, things will never be solved.
"Il povero non รจ povero; e semplicemente diversamente rico."
The poor man is not poor; he is simply a different sort of rich."
The three best ways to loose your money.
The fastest way is gambling.
The funnest way is partying: sex, women, drugs, alcohol.
The slowest but most secure way: agriculture. You'll never go wrong. You'll DEFINITELY loose all of your money for good.
On the Economy.
I hope that the economic crisis gets worse. I know that people have not changed or learned because they still say, 'I have no money'. No!! There is too much money; THAT is the problem. As long as people see not having enough money as their problem, things will never be solved.
"Il povero non รจ povero; e semplicemente diversamente rico."
The poor man is not poor; he is simply a different sort of rich."
WWOOF Italy: Agricultural Wisdom
23 April 2011
Agriculture is probably the most difficult profession that exists. Aside from the obvious physical work and the perhaps less obvious vulnerability of a farmer's livelihood, it requires incredible mental labor, as well.
Physical Labor: When speaking of serious, “respectable” farming,* farming is grueling work. Machines can make most of this farming nice and easy, but only few machines can be defended as part of respectable farming. I spent over an hour cutting salad greens in Giancarlo's greenhouse and then washed, dried and packed them. This all for about the equivalent of about four bags of store bought salad mix. How could it have taken so long only to do the very last step on the production chain? While before I complained about a costly $4 salad bag, $4 certainly could not cover the costs of the labor to make this salad. Those salad mixes come from farms where the ground is leveled to such a perfection that a machine can cut all of the greens at their roots in one easy sweep. Because they use a machine that does not differentiate between plants, they must use chemical pesticides to keep all non-wanted plants, or weeds, away, lest they make their way into the salad mix. Then, the greens are put through a giant machine that cleans and dries them; after they are bagged (by machine) with gases that make them keep fresher and longer so they can be shipped wide and far. For such expensive systems to be used, this must be a very large-scale system to make it efficient. Hundreds or thousands of acres thus need to be planted to make up the costs of these specialized pieces of equipment. With specialized equipment, they cannot rotate crops year to year as is healthy for the soil, so surely more chemicals are needed to make the same greens grow yearly on such over-exploited land. With a system this large and the consumer so far, the health and the safety is barely questioned, encouraging companies to skimp on both in order to raise profit margins (for example, using poorly paid labor). While this is incredibly financially efficient, it is hardly serious, “respectable” agriculture. This is “muscle flexing, conquer nature” agriculture. The amount of petroleum used for the machines is hundreds of times more than that used when doing it by hand. The earth that is leveled flat looses its much needed air pockets, and the pesticides ruin the natural soil humus and ruin water supplies in their chemical runoff. While on a large-scale it is certainly more economical than my cutting greens with scissors by hand, those bags of salad come at the expense of many, while my bags of salad come at the expense of few. I used water to water them from our manmade lake on our property, I fertilized them with last year's compost, I hand-picked out the weeds myself, and instead of blasting them clean with water, I hand rinsed them in a plugged sink. Nevertheless, my bag of greens would NEVER cost as little as the other bag of greens, not even when I, the unpaid WWOOFer, is the one who picked them. So imagine when it is a worker demanding a respectable wage!
This is where we need to come to terms with our food reality. We are what we eat. However, this seems little believed; rather we tend to all think that we are what we wear or we are what we own. We are willing to spend money on a better shirt or a better television set, but we try to pay the least possible for food.
No security: (As said by Giancarlo) A farmer takes his money and instead of putting it in an actual bank, he trades it for seeds. Then he buries the seeds in the ground, hoping that they will bear fruits that he can sell for more money. However, if the ground freezes too soon, if there is too little rain, if any number of factors present themselves slightly out of the ordinary, a farmer risks loosing all of that money he put into his underground bank.
Mental Labor: Andrea, a fellow WWOOFer who worked for years as a financial advisor, began WWOOFing, and now has quit his job to reawaken his grandfather's old farmland, said, “A farmer's analytical work is world's more complex than that of someone working in an office. An office worker analyzes fragments of information. A farmer, on the other hand, never makes a decision without considering a world of other factors. If he must choose where to plant a tree, he is not just thinking of the tree but how it will affect the life and structures around it, how it will be affected by the life and the structures around it and what it will be doing five, ten and twenty years in the future. He can never look at a fragmented picture: all factors must be considered.
Giancarlo had a friend, much like Andrea, who had lived his early work life in an office and not on the land.
“I know what farmer's do wrong,” he told Giancarlo. “They do not know how to schedule!”
Giancarlo tried to explain to him, “But agriculture cannot be scheduled. It is not an office job where if you do not finish the outline tonight you can finish it tomorrow morning.” Giancarlo's friend was convinced he had the answer, though, and bought a farm to try his hand at agriculture. After five years of learning and struggle, he returned to Giancarlo.
“You were right! I did not finish something one day in the fields. It got late, I got tired. It could wait till the morning, anyway, I thought. No big deal. Well, morning came, and it was raining. I said I would wait until it stopped raining. They next day it continued. Then it stopped, but the ground was wet. When the ground dried, it started raining again. By the time the ground was dry, it was too late and I had to wait until the next year.” Agricultural timetables are extremely precise and important...yet they are entirely dependent upon and vulnerable to outside factors.
*Serious, respectable farming is what Giancarlo uses when he means the utmost of organic. It is farming that does not reap benefits at the expense of the land. This means it respects natural cycles, respects how much the earth is able to bare, and does not attempt to collect more.
Agriculture is probably the most difficult profession that exists. Aside from the obvious physical work and the perhaps less obvious vulnerability of a farmer's livelihood, it requires incredible mental labor, as well.
Physical Labor: When speaking of serious, “respectable” farming,* farming is grueling work. Machines can make most of this farming nice and easy, but only few machines can be defended as part of respectable farming. I spent over an hour cutting salad greens in Giancarlo's greenhouse and then washed, dried and packed them. This all for about the equivalent of about four bags of store bought salad mix. How could it have taken so long only to do the very last step on the production chain? While before I complained about a costly $4 salad bag, $4 certainly could not cover the costs of the labor to make this salad. Those salad mixes come from farms where the ground is leveled to such a perfection that a machine can cut all of the greens at their roots in one easy sweep. Because they use a machine that does not differentiate between plants, they must use chemical pesticides to keep all non-wanted plants, or weeds, away, lest they make their way into the salad mix. Then, the greens are put through a giant machine that cleans and dries them; after they are bagged (by machine) with gases that make them keep fresher and longer so they can be shipped wide and far. For such expensive systems to be used, this must be a very large-scale system to make it efficient. Hundreds or thousands of acres thus need to be planted to make up the costs of these specialized pieces of equipment. With specialized equipment, they cannot rotate crops year to year as is healthy for the soil, so surely more chemicals are needed to make the same greens grow yearly on such over-exploited land. With a system this large and the consumer so far, the health and the safety is barely questioned, encouraging companies to skimp on both in order to raise profit margins (for example, using poorly paid labor). While this is incredibly financially efficient, it is hardly serious, “respectable” agriculture. This is “muscle flexing, conquer nature” agriculture. The amount of petroleum used for the machines is hundreds of times more than that used when doing it by hand. The earth that is leveled flat looses its much needed air pockets, and the pesticides ruin the natural soil humus and ruin water supplies in their chemical runoff. While on a large-scale it is certainly more economical than my cutting greens with scissors by hand, those bags of salad come at the expense of many, while my bags of salad come at the expense of few. I used water to water them from our manmade lake on our property, I fertilized them with last year's compost, I hand-picked out the weeds myself, and instead of blasting them clean with water, I hand rinsed them in a plugged sink. Nevertheless, my bag of greens would NEVER cost as little as the other bag of greens, not even when I, the unpaid WWOOFer, is the one who picked them. So imagine when it is a worker demanding a respectable wage!
This is where we need to come to terms with our food reality. We are what we eat. However, this seems little believed; rather we tend to all think that we are what we wear or we are what we own. We are willing to spend money on a better shirt or a better television set, but we try to pay the least possible for food.
No security: (As said by Giancarlo) A farmer takes his money and instead of putting it in an actual bank, he trades it for seeds. Then he buries the seeds in the ground, hoping that they will bear fruits that he can sell for more money. However, if the ground freezes too soon, if there is too little rain, if any number of factors present themselves slightly out of the ordinary, a farmer risks loosing all of that money he put into his underground bank.
Mental Labor: Andrea, a fellow WWOOFer who worked for years as a financial advisor, began WWOOFing, and now has quit his job to reawaken his grandfather's old farmland, said, “A farmer's analytical work is world's more complex than that of someone working in an office. An office worker analyzes fragments of information. A farmer, on the other hand, never makes a decision without considering a world of other factors. If he must choose where to plant a tree, he is not just thinking of the tree but how it will affect the life and structures around it, how it will be affected by the life and the structures around it and what it will be doing five, ten and twenty years in the future. He can never look at a fragmented picture: all factors must be considered.
Giancarlo had a friend, much like Andrea, who had lived his early work life in an office and not on the land.
“I know what farmer's do wrong,” he told Giancarlo. “They do not know how to schedule!”
Giancarlo tried to explain to him, “But agriculture cannot be scheduled. It is not an office job where if you do not finish the outline tonight you can finish it tomorrow morning.” Giancarlo's friend was convinced he had the answer, though, and bought a farm to try his hand at agriculture. After five years of learning and struggle, he returned to Giancarlo.
“You were right! I did not finish something one day in the fields. It got late, I got tired. It could wait till the morning, anyway, I thought. No big deal. Well, morning came, and it was raining. I said I would wait until it stopped raining. They next day it continued. Then it stopped, but the ground was wet. When the ground dried, it started raining again. By the time the ground was dry, it was too late and I had to wait until the next year.” Agricultural timetables are extremely precise and important...yet they are entirely dependent upon and vulnerable to outside factors.
*Serious, respectable farming is what Giancarlo uses when he means the utmost of organic. It is farming that does not reap benefits at the expense of the land. This means it respects natural cycles, respects how much the earth is able to bare, and does not attempt to collect more.
WWOOF Italy: Farm Five
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Farm Five's Personal Description:
'La Cascina del Finocchio Verde' is situated in Alta Langa on a hill with a view of the Piedmonte Alps. For over 10 years we have raised sheep and goats which graze freely in the pasture and woodland around us. We make high quality raw milk cheeses in our dairy from Spring to Autumn and sell in markets. We also have a fruit orchard and vegetable garden for our own use. This year we hope to keep bees again and make excellent honey, There is also a small agritourism attached to the farm with 6 beds and a restaurant for 16 where we serve our own produce. Accommodation in room with shared bathroom, minimum stay 3 weeks. Help needed with all aspects of daily work. In the winter the work is in the animal sheds, woodland, with pruning, making up baskets with our produce and with making salamis etc. We cook mainly using our own produce. French spoken and some Spanish and English.
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Farm Five's Personal Description:
'La Cascina del Finocchio Verde' is situated in Alta Langa on a hill with a view of the Piedmonte Alps. For over 10 years we have raised sheep and goats which graze freely in the pasture and woodland around us. We make high quality raw milk cheeses in our dairy from Spring to Autumn and sell in markets. We also have a fruit orchard and vegetable garden for our own use. This year we hope to keep bees again and make excellent honey, There is also a small agritourism attached to the farm with 6 beds and a restaurant for 16 where we serve our own produce. Accommodation in room with shared bathroom, minimum stay 3 weeks. Help needed with all aspects of daily work. In the winter the work is in the animal sheds, woodland, with pruning, making up baskets with our produce and with making salamis etc. We cook mainly using our own produce. French spoken and some Spanish and English.
WWOOF Italy: Farm Four
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Farm Four's Personal Description:
I live on and work this 20 ha organic farm the main production being olive oil, there is also an olive press on the farm where we press our olives. I also grow fruit and vegetables and exchange produce with other nearby farms to have a varied selection of produce to offer my customers whom I deliver boxes of vegetables to on a weekly basis. I need help all year round but especially during the olive harvest (October-November) and for pruning the olives (March-April). I can accommodate people for minimum of two weeks and give priority to people who want to come for longer. Our meals are mainly vegetarian using our own produce (but not exclusively). Accommodation is in the main house. I only speak Italian but am happy to host people who cannot speak my language. I live alone but fortunately never lack company, I always have friends and helpers who keep me company during the day and also during the evenings there are always people who like to share a plate of food and glass of wine with me. The farm is situated in the heart of the Maremma 15 km from the hot springs at Saturnia, 35 km from the sea.
Giancarlo's farm is in Ragnaie, located in the region of Grosseto, in the historical region of Marenma. Giancarlo's house is literally in a perfect location (if you don't mind living in the middle of nowhere), because it is a 15 minute drive from the largest natural hot springs in Europe; a 60 minute drive from the sea; and a 45 minute drive from the mountains. Giancarlo, when feeling in the mood, can drive to the town of Saturnia, and jump in the hot springs, parts naturally shaped like in a jacuzzi, and not pay a penny. And then perhaps after, if he pleases, he can drive the the majestic mideval town of Pitigliana, carved out of the mountains, to enjoy a nice pizza. Or if he prefers, perhaps the other way around. The hotsprings at night, usually with little to nobody around, are a perfectly romantic way to spend an evening, perhaps with some glasses of wine and dessert.
View Larger Map
Farm Four's Personal Description:
I live on and work this 20 ha organic farm the main production being olive oil, there is also an olive press on the farm where we press our olives. I also grow fruit and vegetables and exchange produce with other nearby farms to have a varied selection of produce to offer my customers whom I deliver boxes of vegetables to on a weekly basis. I need help all year round but especially during the olive harvest (October-November) and for pruning the olives (March-April). I can accommodate people for minimum of two weeks and give priority to people who want to come for longer. Our meals are mainly vegetarian using our own produce (but not exclusively). Accommodation is in the main house. I only speak Italian but am happy to host people who cannot speak my language. I live alone but fortunately never lack company, I always have friends and helpers who keep me company during the day and also during the evenings there are always people who like to share a plate of food and glass of wine with me. The farm is situated in the heart of the Maremma 15 km from the hot springs at Saturnia, 35 km from the sea.
Giancarlo's farm is in Ragnaie, located in the region of Grosseto, in the historical region of Marenma. Giancarlo's house is literally in a perfect location (if you don't mind living in the middle of nowhere), because it is a 15 minute drive from the largest natural hot springs in Europe; a 60 minute drive from the sea; and a 45 minute drive from the mountains. Giancarlo, when feeling in the mood, can drive to the town of Saturnia, and jump in the hot springs, parts naturally shaped like in a jacuzzi, and not pay a penny. And then perhaps after, if he pleases, he can drive the the majestic mideval town of Pitigliana, carved out of the mountains, to enjoy a nice pizza. Or if he prefers, perhaps the other way around. The hotsprings at night, usually with little to nobody around, are a perfectly romantic way to spend an evening, perhaps with some glasses of wine and dessert.
Friday, May 6, 2011
WWOOFing in Italy: Local Dinner
19 April 2011
Tonight’s Dinner:
Chapatti’s made with course flour, onions, and arugula, all from the farm.
Cooked beet greens, from the farm.
Fresh salad, from the farm.
Olive oil and vinegar, from the farm.
White wine, from the farm.
All ingredients came from within 100 m as opposed to the average, 10,000 mi. That is noteworthy.
Tonight’s Dinner:
Chapatti’s made with course flour, onions, and arugula, all from the farm.
Cooked beet greens, from the farm.
Fresh salad, from the farm.
Olive oil and vinegar, from the farm.
White wine, from the farm.
All ingredients came from within 100 m as opposed to the average, 10,000 mi. That is noteworthy.
WWOOFing in Italy: Cleanliness...is Relative.
April 14 2011
As I write tonight, I keep reaching up to itch my head. If you don’t already think significantly less of me, my shower average on this trip has been about twice a week (that average is relatively frequent, in fact, because when I was in cities I showered significantly more often).
I can’t be bothered.
First it was too cold to shower. Now I’m just used to it.
Working in nature, I feel so clean! I love dirt; I don’t love pollution. My boogers are never grey here; after one day in Rome they were the color of tar.
As I write tonight, I keep reaching up to itch my head. If you don’t already think significantly less of me, my shower average on this trip has been about twice a week (that average is relatively frequent, in fact, because when I was in cities I showered significantly more often).
I can’t be bothered.
First it was too cold to shower. Now I’m just used to it.
Working in nature, I feel so clean! I love dirt; I don’t love pollution. My boogers are never grey here; after one day in Rome they were the color of tar.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
WWOOFing in Italy: Time is Money...or Is It?
12 April 2011
It is 23:45, and I just spent forty-five minutes handsewing a hole in the butt of my work pants. Not a hole from a narly accident: these pants are so worn in that it takes little more than a strong wind to put holes in them. They were hand-me-downs from my neighbor at least eight years ago, they sat in my closet untouched for four, and I found them by chance the day before leaving for Asia two years ago. Turns out, that while they are not particularly fashionable, they make perfect work pants: linen, white and down to the ankles, good for strong sun and conservative cultures. After significant wear in Asia, they continued down the work path for last year's farming in Israel and now farming in Italy (and when you travel with only two pair of pants, they get sufficiently more wear than a pair of pants is used to). So a hole after all that? I think most would agree that these pants have merited the time spent to fix one hole.
Eight holes, however, is debatable. A month ago, I spent forty-five minutes sewing a seven inch hole on the other side of the butt: they are parallel, twin tears (precious! I suppose the one became lonely and beconned the second one on). There are at least four other one-inch plus holes, ten if we’re counting holes of any size. During the forty five-minutes that I spent fixing one of the holes, an eleven year old in China could have produced seven pair of potential replacement pants, probably at the cost to me of less than $20. Considering the two hours I would need to work with my last job's wage to make up that cost; considering the spectacle that I am with dirty, holey white pants with two big patches on the butt made of a non-matching fabric and green thread; considering that it is only a matter of days before more holes show up in new places in these terribly old pants making my hard repair work in vain; considering all of these factors, perhaps I should throw the towel in and buy new pants. Right?
NO!
“Time is Money” is one of the worst maxims to come out of our culture. Time is appreciating life! I appreciate life more in my holey pants because I played part in making them. They have part of my story in them; not like the factory produced pants at some store that will be identical to thousands of other pairs.
It is 23:45, and I just spent forty-five minutes handsewing a hole in the butt of my work pants. Not a hole from a narly accident: these pants are so worn in that it takes little more than a strong wind to put holes in them. They were hand-me-downs from my neighbor at least eight years ago, they sat in my closet untouched for four, and I found them by chance the day before leaving for Asia two years ago. Turns out, that while they are not particularly fashionable, they make perfect work pants: linen, white and down to the ankles, good for strong sun and conservative cultures. After significant wear in Asia, they continued down the work path for last year's farming in Israel and now farming in Italy (and when you travel with only two pair of pants, they get sufficiently more wear than a pair of pants is used to). So a hole after all that? I think most would agree that these pants have merited the time spent to fix one hole.
Eight holes, however, is debatable. A month ago, I spent forty-five minutes sewing a seven inch hole on the other side of the butt: they are parallel, twin tears (precious! I suppose the one became lonely and beconned the second one on). There are at least four other one-inch plus holes, ten if we’re counting holes of any size. During the forty five-minutes that I spent fixing one of the holes, an eleven year old in China could have produced seven pair of potential replacement pants, probably at the cost to me of less than $20. Considering the two hours I would need to work with my last job's wage to make up that cost; considering the spectacle that I am with dirty, holey white pants with two big patches on the butt made of a non-matching fabric and green thread; considering that it is only a matter of days before more holes show up in new places in these terribly old pants making my hard repair work in vain; considering all of these factors, perhaps I should throw the towel in and buy new pants. Right?
NO!
“Time is Money” is one of the worst maxims to come out of our culture. Time is appreciating life! I appreciate life more in my holey pants because I played part in making them. They have part of my story in them; not like the factory produced pants at some store that will be identical to thousands of other pairs.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
WWOOF Italy: Italian Women
17 April 2011
I flew into Rome the weekend of the “Protest of the Women” against Berlusconi. It was a beautiful thing to see: thousands of women and supportive men standing up for women everywhere. The message: “Forget Politics, Berlusconi. This is personal. The image that you have given Italian women to the international community is shameful. We are tired of a government run by machismo: shown in the jobs available to us, the pay, the respect and the way men like you think you can treat us. We work hard to get ahead, and we are offended to see you choose a woman for sex and then put her, unqualified as she is, in a high position as a personal favor. We work hard: let us earn our spots not because of our bodies but because of our brains.” (This is my summarized version of what I saw. )
Machismo pervades this culture. Berlusconi perpetuates it, but we certainly cannot blame him for starting it. That acknowledged, in something like 17 years in power, his influence certainly can be blamed for allowing it to thrive.
On all talk show-like programs, there is a slender woman, very made-up, dressed in a cocktail dress, tall, blonde and beautiful. In sum, not very not-Italian looking. She usually has scripts or comes on for the beginning or end, not trusted to make any off the cuff comments or speak candidly. Italian publicities have the same above described woman, doing very “womanly” things (based on Italian womanly of forty years ago): grocery shopping, cleaning or being beautiful.
The plastic surgery that I see in this country is HIGH. Berlusconi—the bionic man—is one example, but most obvious examples are women with giant, unexpressive lips sitting atop a wrinkly neck, sitting atop a Dolce & Gabana/Gucci/Versace poorly matched outfit. Classic.
Fabio, while talking about the difficulties of this life being a farmer and remaining in the country on a farm where you will make little money, said how difficult it is to find women for a lot of men like him. In fact, I’ve met several single Italian small-scale farmers, some of them older and never married. Side note: the first farm where I stayed, Angelo’s 28 year old godson had left his old life, moved in two years ago and was learning and preparing to build his own life on the land. Knowing that women-—especially decent ones-—would be few and far between in his future, he all but proposed to me to keep me for his country wife.
Fabio continued to explain, “It is difficult for someone to find a woman here who wants to stay in the country...they want to be in the city. All (puts his hands up in cutesy way) want to be “top model” (not translated). "Ma che ci fa' con un Top Model?!" (“what the hell do you do with a top model?!” is a decent translation, but you must picture it in Italian with all appropriate Italian animation, intonation and hand movements at their liveliest). *
I told him, in efforts to be a little easier on Italian women, that he needs to respect that his culture is much harder on women than it is on men. Advertisements are all directed at women, and public opinion expects much more of a woman. Women are expected to be beautiful and it is their fault if they are not; men come as they are. Intelligence is secondary, sometimes ignored, and sometimes not even wanted. Thus, for all women the need to be beautiful must have a strong presence.
Being a woman in a culture like this (expanding beyond Italy to most Western culture also included) is horrifying. How do you stand up against it? Even I see a woman in television and I assess her appearance; I do not do so with men (is she attractive/isn’t she; is she wearing the right amount of makeup; is she a suitable weight...I never do that with men, assessing sex appeal notwithstanding).
*Later I found out that Fabio's daughter made it to one of the final selection rounds in a Miss Italia competition. I laughed for five minutes straight—a Miss Italia competition represents everything that this man is against. I feel terrible for him; his family has not followed his lead. Nonetheless, the idea of them interviewing him about his daughter, long messy hair, flannel shirt, dirt caked on his hands, made my heart swell with happiness, at the expense of Miss Italia’s TV crew.
I flew into Rome the weekend of the “Protest of the Women” against Berlusconi. It was a beautiful thing to see: thousands of women and supportive men standing up for women everywhere. The message: “Forget Politics, Berlusconi. This is personal. The image that you have given Italian women to the international community is shameful. We are tired of a government run by machismo: shown in the jobs available to us, the pay, the respect and the way men like you think you can treat us. We work hard to get ahead, and we are offended to see you choose a woman for sex and then put her, unqualified as she is, in a high position as a personal favor. We work hard: let us earn our spots not because of our bodies but because of our brains.” (This is my summarized version of what I saw. )
Machismo pervades this culture. Berlusconi perpetuates it, but we certainly cannot blame him for starting it. That acknowledged, in something like 17 years in power, his influence certainly can be blamed for allowing it to thrive.
On all talk show-like programs, there is a slender woman, very made-up, dressed in a cocktail dress, tall, blonde and beautiful. In sum, not very not-Italian looking. She usually has scripts or comes on for the beginning or end, not trusted to make any off the cuff comments or speak candidly. Italian publicities have the same above described woman, doing very “womanly” things (based on Italian womanly of forty years ago): grocery shopping, cleaning or being beautiful.
The plastic surgery that I see in this country is HIGH. Berlusconi—the bionic man—is one example, but most obvious examples are women with giant, unexpressive lips sitting atop a wrinkly neck, sitting atop a Dolce & Gabana/Gucci/Versace poorly matched outfit. Classic.
Fabio, while talking about the difficulties of this life being a farmer and remaining in the country on a farm where you will make little money, said how difficult it is to find women for a lot of men like him. In fact, I’ve met several single Italian small-scale farmers, some of them older and never married. Side note: the first farm where I stayed, Angelo’s 28 year old godson had left his old life, moved in two years ago and was learning and preparing to build his own life on the land. Knowing that women-—especially decent ones-—would be few and far between in his future, he all but proposed to me to keep me for his country wife.
Fabio continued to explain, “It is difficult for someone to find a woman here who wants to stay in the country...they want to be in the city. All (puts his hands up in cutesy way) want to be “top model” (not translated). "Ma che ci fa' con un Top Model?!" (“what the hell do you do with a top model?!” is a decent translation, but you must picture it in Italian with all appropriate Italian animation, intonation and hand movements at their liveliest). *
I told him, in efforts to be a little easier on Italian women, that he needs to respect that his culture is much harder on women than it is on men. Advertisements are all directed at women, and public opinion expects much more of a woman. Women are expected to be beautiful and it is their fault if they are not; men come as they are. Intelligence is secondary, sometimes ignored, and sometimes not even wanted. Thus, for all women the need to be beautiful must have a strong presence.
Being a woman in a culture like this (expanding beyond Italy to most Western culture also included) is horrifying. How do you stand up against it? Even I see a woman in television and I assess her appearance; I do not do so with men (is she attractive/isn’t she; is she wearing the right amount of makeup; is she a suitable weight...I never do that with men, assessing sex appeal notwithstanding).
*Later I found out that Fabio's daughter made it to one of the final selection rounds in a Miss Italia competition. I laughed for five minutes straight—a Miss Italia competition represents everything that this man is against. I feel terrible for him; his family has not followed his lead. Nonetheless, the idea of them interviewing him about his daughter, long messy hair, flannel shirt, dirt caked on his hands, made my heart swell with happiness, at the expense of Miss Italia’s TV crew.
Monday, May 2, 2011
WWOOF Italia: Berlusconi!
16 April 2011
“Worse than Berlusconi in and of himself is Berlusconi in you.”
This was told to me by Fabio. Then he elaborated. Berlusconi has sold the dream to Italy that anyone can do anything. You can make money, you can get women, you can have success and fame. Italians have bought this dream; that is why many still vote for him. It is evident across the country; everyone wants their little piece of the sky. This is also why everyone is not outraged at his actions, his relations with women, his contemptible remarks. In the back of everyone’s mind, “If I were powerful enough to do that, if I were powerful enough to have all those women, if I were powerful enough to…” Berlusconi in and of himself is not that dangerous. It is Berlusconi in each and every one of us that we need to watch out for.
Perhaps he buys votes in the South (widely accepted belief), but the fact is many continue to support him. Fabio’s mother, three years ago, said “We are living in fascism again”. Fabio’s mother is 92 years old, sharp as a whistle, and if anyone can make that comment it is her, a woman who was in her twenties during the last world war. Fabio said that it's a new kind of fascism, but fascism it is: no matter how outrageous this man’s actions, people follow him like lambs.
“Worse than Berlusconi in and of himself is Berlusconi in you.”
This was told to me by Fabio. Then he elaborated. Berlusconi has sold the dream to Italy that anyone can do anything. You can make money, you can get women, you can have success and fame. Italians have bought this dream; that is why many still vote for him. It is evident across the country; everyone wants their little piece of the sky. This is also why everyone is not outraged at his actions, his relations with women, his contemptible remarks. In the back of everyone’s mind, “If I were powerful enough to do that, if I were powerful enough to have all those women, if I were powerful enough to…” Berlusconi in and of himself is not that dangerous. It is Berlusconi in each and every one of us that we need to watch out for.
Perhaps he buys votes in the South (widely accepted belief), but the fact is many continue to support him. Fabio’s mother, three years ago, said “We are living in fascism again”. Fabio’s mother is 92 years old, sharp as a whistle, and if anyone can make that comment it is her, a woman who was in her twenties during the last world war. Fabio said that it's a new kind of fascism, but fascism it is: no matter how outrageous this man’s actions, people follow him like lambs.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
WWOOF Italy: Reaping the Fruits of Someone Else's Labor So Someone Else Can Reap the Fruits of Mine
15 April 2011
It is early April on the farm: planting time. It is time to prepare the garden, collect the compost, and plant the seeds. In the summer, all farmers will add new seeds at precisely chosen intervals, tend to the growing plants, and in the fall, abundance comes. Apples and figs fall from trees that you almost forgot you had. Olives, grapes and almonds are ready to be picked. The vegetables that you collect from your garden are bright: purples, reds, white, all shades of green.
Then will come the panick: what do we do with all of this food? The fruits from the trees need to be picked before they fall to a bruised and splattered ruin. The vegetables in the garden need to be picked before they wilt or are taken over by nature’s molds and insects. Soon the rush to pick, clean, prepare, can, dry and give away as gifts begins. If you don’t make it in time, the fruits of your labor, sitting there in front of you today, will be lost tomorrow (it is some consolation to know that, in sustainable agriculture, its nutrients will go to the hens and back into the earth before they are lost or thrown away).
I will be here for none of this. I helped plant, prune trees, and spread compost now in the spring, but I will not watch the bounty grow in the summer nor taste the fruits in the fall. Another WWOOFer will be here then, tasting the fruits of my labor while laying the ground work for the fruits that the next WWOOFer will enjoy.
I, too, am enjoying the labors of someone else. Greens, grains and beans are the daily fair in this season. I eat grain [a half loaf of bread a day (a modest estimate), polenta (made out of the grain that makes the bread), or occasionally pasta]; an assortment of beans of all shapes and sizes; and an assortment of greens (we do our shopping every evening in the garden, selecting between wild greens and the remains from the winter that are still standing). Olive oil, wine, vinegar (made from old wine) and pepperoncino all add some flare, and that about sums up my eating experience here.
That aknowledged, I eat like a queen! Fresher, simpler ingredients, you have not tasted. Who would have expected flour cooked in water, eaten like oatmeal, to be good? That is the beauty of Italy: food grown with love on this terrain has a leg up on the same in most other parts of the world. If that same grain were purchased at a US supermarket it would be a flavorless mush; here the flavors of the organic, heritage grain grown 100 m away tell the stories of the earth beneath it.
It is early April on the farm: planting time. It is time to prepare the garden, collect the compost, and plant the seeds. In the summer, all farmers will add new seeds at precisely chosen intervals, tend to the growing plants, and in the fall, abundance comes. Apples and figs fall from trees that you almost forgot you had. Olives, grapes and almonds are ready to be picked. The vegetables that you collect from your garden are bright: purples, reds, white, all shades of green.
Then will come the panick: what do we do with all of this food? The fruits from the trees need to be picked before they fall to a bruised and splattered ruin. The vegetables in the garden need to be picked before they wilt or are taken over by nature’s molds and insects. Soon the rush to pick, clean, prepare, can, dry and give away as gifts begins. If you don’t make it in time, the fruits of your labor, sitting there in front of you today, will be lost tomorrow (it is some consolation to know that, in sustainable agriculture, its nutrients will go to the hens and back into the earth before they are lost or thrown away).
I will be here for none of this. I helped plant, prune trees, and spread compost now in the spring, but I will not watch the bounty grow in the summer nor taste the fruits in the fall. Another WWOOFer will be here then, tasting the fruits of my labor while laying the ground work for the fruits that the next WWOOFer will enjoy.
I, too, am enjoying the labors of someone else. Greens, grains and beans are the daily fair in this season. I eat grain [a half loaf of bread a day (a modest estimate), polenta (made out of the grain that makes the bread), or occasionally pasta]; an assortment of beans of all shapes and sizes; and an assortment of greens (we do our shopping every evening in the garden, selecting between wild greens and the remains from the winter that are still standing). Olive oil, wine, vinegar (made from old wine) and pepperoncino all add some flare, and that about sums up my eating experience here.
That aknowledged, I eat like a queen! Fresher, simpler ingredients, you have not tasted. Who would have expected flour cooked in water, eaten like oatmeal, to be good? That is the beauty of Italy: food grown with love on this terrain has a leg up on the same in most other parts of the world. If that same grain were purchased at a US supermarket it would be a flavorless mush; here the flavors of the organic, heritage grain grown 100 m away tell the stories of the earth beneath it.
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