Their Honest Opinions

After purchasing our agricultural land, we decided to spend a few days camping at our neighbour’s farm. The facilities were quite basic – one big room with a leaky roof, no furniture, no shelves and no toilet/bathroom. We used the rocket stove, which we had built earlier, to cook our meals. Learning to keep the fire going was not easy for me. The first day, I served breakfast at lunch time, despite the fact I started cooking very early. Thankfully the kids were quite patient with me. They said, “This is real camping!”

As I was sweating over one such meal preparation, a lady showed up at the door to check us out. She asked me a lot of questions. Apparently she had come to know that the adjacent land had just recently been bought by foreigners. So she was eager to come and meet the foreigners. When I told her that it was we who had bought the land she immediately said, “I am quite disappointed that the new owners are not foreigners. I wanted to talk to some foreigners. And here you are, the new owners, talking in Tamil!”

This lady had walked a kilometer in the sweltering heat, just to be able to get a glimpse of some foreigners. I felt sorry for her. I didn’t know how I could assuage her disappointment. I was frantically raking my brain for ideas. It suddenly occurred to me that she might cheer up if she hears some English. So I asked her if she would like me to talk in English. Her face lit up and she nodded happily.

I called Abhi and explained the situation to him. I asked him to play along in English for a few moments. He obliged, but with a puzzled look on his face. The next few minutes of our conversation in English brought a smile on the lady’s face and that was apparently enough for her to head back happily in the hot sun.

***

The inquisitive care-taker of a neighbouring coconut grove stopped me on my way to the farm one evening.

He: “What exactly do you do there, on your land?”

Me: “I am planting trees”

He: “I have seen you carry saplings uprooted from the creek side. Is that what you are planting?”

I nodded enthusiastically.

He: “But they are useless plants. Why are you wasting your time? Why don’t you grow some cash crops?”

I didn’t want to brush aside the curiosity behind his questions. So I told him a bit about natural farming, bio-mass producing local trees, mulch, permaculture etc.

He: “You seem to show the way to places that no one wants to go to. Anyway, what about your income and expenses?”

Me: “Both my husband and I do not have jobs now. We are living off our savings and trying to keep our expenses low. We do a lot of the farm work ourselves.”

He: “I understand that you might be able to pull it off. But your husband ... hmm ... he is too old for that.”

Me: (shockingly) “Oh no! You are mistaken. We are pretty much of the same age. Gray hair is hereditary in his family. ”

He: “I feel sorry for you. You have been fooled.”

I laughed my lungs out and started walking my way.

-- Hema

Oh Senna siamea, Thank You!

About a quarter acre of our land is devoid of top soil. Locals told us that the previous land owner had sold the top soil from that patch, about 10 years ago. We used to call that area “the bald patch”. The soil here is heavy clay. In fact we used this subsoil for our earthbag construction project, by excavating a shallow pond.

Every time I was near the bald patch, I felt a pinching pain to see a place so dead as that. Since we didn’t have a water source close by, I couldn’t attempt to green that area. Then came the monsoon rains and the shallow pond was full. In November I transplanted a small Senna siamea plant (hardly ½’) on one of the edges of the bald patch. It was just an experiment.

Senna siamea is a fast growing (leguminous) tree that will grow in a range of climatic conditions but is particularly suited to lowland tropics with a monsoon climate. It belongs to the family of Fabaceae. I was interested in this tree mainly because of the prolific bio-mass that it produces, which can be used as mulch. I had seen these trees grow in uncultivated areas, like along the creek. I didn’t know if it would survive in our bald patch that is quite unlike the creek sides.

The little S. siamea didn’t have much of a shock from the crude transplantation that I did. I was worried if the heavy clay would allow any air exchange to happen. But the plant didn’t seem to care. It started putting out new leaves and I was the happiest person in the world. Some days, during the monsoon, the downpour caused severe erosion. I was worried if the little S. siamea would be able to hold on to its dear life. But the plant had very little problem. It continued growing happily. The monsoon ended in mid-December.

I was watering it for the next two months, manually carrying water from the pond. The S. siamea continued doing well. It in fact put out a new branch! I was jumping in joy. The dry spell started and by mid-February the shallow pond had dried up completely. This meant that I had to carry water and walk for about 5 minutes from the manual (hand) pump, to water this plant. I couldn’t obviously do it as often as I wanted to. So, the next two months was more or less a dry spell for the little plant. But this didn’t abate its growth. I was quite amazed by its resilience but was also concerned about the upcoming summer heat for the plant.

Fortunately, this month we had about 15 cm. of summer rain. The S. siamea continues to thrive and is now a handsome 3’ tall young tree. Watching this plant’s growth has been a phenomenal spiritual learning experience for me. It was as if the plant was speaking to me, saying:

“No top soil?

Not a problem. Here I will toil.

Heavy clay?

That is okay.

Roots get very little air?

I don’t care.

Soil erosion?

Tightly I will hold on.

Too much rain?

I just am fine.

Too little water?

Can’t deter (me).

I continue to be happy as can be.”

Thank you, my dear little S. siamea. I will remember this during difficult times.

-- Hema