A Year in Search of Seeds and Hope!

Final Watson Report!

2009-08-16T17:51:00.000-07:00

Hello!
So, pasted below is my final "report" to the Thomas J. Watson Fellowship. After stressing about it for weeks and trying to organize my absurd amount of interviews and information, I talked to the Watson staff and they reassured me that it needed to only be a long letter home. Its obvious impossible to sum up a year in 5 pages, so they just want to hear some reflections, lessons learned, and challenges.
I am not fully satisfied with this report at all, but I sent it in because the due date is fast approaching. I will begin working on more academic, organized reports soon and will hopefully post here. They will be sent to some of the great seed-saving groups that have helped me all year.
Click Read More to see the entire report

Watson Final Report “Crops and Cultures: The Preservation of Heirloom Varieties”
Adam Forbes – Pitzer College
August 1, 2009

Dear Watson Foundation,
I am now flying back home and saying goodbye to a year of travel, seeds, and transformation. For months I have pondered what it would be like to be here, sitting on my last flight bound for the USA. There is no sense of finality or ultimate conclusion like I expected. I am sad to see it all end, but excited to tackle to next chapter of my life. My lessons have built up over the year and seeds have come to mean the world to me. They are more than a protest against Monsanto, but a symbol of freedom, a carrier of values and traditions, a tool for ecological agriculture, survival for peasant farmers, and the basis for all life. Local seeds connect us with our history while also carrying hope for the future of humanity. They provide tasty, healthy crops which promote a different way of life, are an integral part of community, resist pests and disease, adapt to climate change, provide options for breeding, and much more. Put simply, I have spent the past year studying traditional agriculture and crop diversity in India, Italy, Thailand, Ethiopia, Canada, Peru, and Greece. I have not done formal research per say, but have embraced a wide range of experiences in an attempt to learn about every aspect of this international seed saving movement.

At the start of the year, I thought my research would be a study of the loss of genetic diversity and the effect it has had on the world. However, the hope I have found through the seed-saving movement has been the core of my year. I have seen that diversity survives much better than expected and many people around the world are fighting to keep not just our distinct seeds, but our diverse cultures and ways of life. The free exchange of seeds among farmers, based on cooperation and reciprocity, continues to maintain an astounding amount of agricultural diversity. Using traditional seeds we can help to improve farmers’ lives, and promote a better way of life. Seeds are needed for all aspects of agricultural development. Breeders need a diversity of seeds to create more drought resistant or productive crops in the future. Peasant farmers who cannot afford hybrids and expensive chemical inputs depend on a diversity of seeds to produce the food and products their family needs in challenging environments. The reasons are endless and each day this year I learn more about the importance of seeds, their uses, and connections to cultures and farming systems.

Aside from all I learned about sustainable agriculture, the past year of independent travel have given me a chance to step back and examine what my life is about. The best thing about the Watson is that it is about more than just research, it is about learning and growing as a person. It is about being truly free to follow your heart and passion around the world. Before I left college, my professor (a Watson Alum) said to me “This trip will change you forever! Good Luck.” At the time I didn’t know what he meant. I now return home and can firmly say I am changed forever. The change comes not from a single moment, a certain memory, or an unforgettable mountain view. The change comes as a result of all the days I’ve shared with people and their seeds. I have seen the world and am filled with positivity and hope that I never had before.

Perhaps the greatest realization I have come to all year is that the world is a kind place. I have been continuously blown away by the hospitality of strangers. Everyone from elite Greek businessmen to poor Ethiopian farmers have fed me feasts, hosted me, taught me, shared laughs, and exchanged seeds. My hosts and friends have shown me that there is an infinite number of ways to live this life and view our world. I have been provided a glimpse into some of the other ways people live, love, dream, and last but not least prepare their food. In the end I concluded that there is more which unites us than divides us. We all are yearning to live a happy life, eat good food, find love, and gain some sort of respect or admiration. Our values and ways of living are defined in very different ways. However, there is a similar thread which links us all together.

None of what I’ve done this year would have been possible if I had not opened my heart and every essence of my being to listen and connect with others. I have tasted all foods at least once (including raw meat in Ethiopia), tried my hardest at each language (at least 5), slept on mud floors with 12 children, laughed when others laugh, cried when others cried, stared into strangers eyes and listened to their stories. Each person I’ve met this year has had a different lesson to teach me. I never truly valued the power of listening until the Watson experience. I used to always be the one talking, teaching others, and taking control of the situation. This past year I surrendered all control over my life and in turn saw how easy it is to learn from others.

While the year has flown by it seems like a lifetime ago when I left. I can barely remember when I first boarded the plane to India over a year ago. I do remember I was scared, lonely, and completely unsure of how the year would unfold. Somehow, it all worked out better than I ever could have imagined. People keep asking me how I made so many contacts and found my way to all the inspiring groups and incredible places. Miraculously, my whole year evolved organically. Each person I met would introduce me to another kind, inspiring person.

One of the most powerful experiences was my time in Punjab, India. This is a prime example of the benefit of being flexible and letting the journey evolve. After hearing about a farmer’s freedom movement from someone I met on the train, I called the organizer. Through broken English and Hindi I explained why I wanted to come. Umendra told me to meet him at the station at 4:30 AM the next day, when the first train arrived. Our phones then disconnected and I boarded an overnight train with no idea of who this man was or even if he would meet me. To my surprise, Umendra met me right when I stepped off the train. For the next two weeks they organized every minute of my time with interviews, tours, farm work, community seeds banks, family stays, meetings with doctors, and much more. I was immediately accepted as a brother in the farmers’ freedom movement and got to learn about their struggle for ecologic agriculture, biodiversity, and local seeds.

In India, I met a couple who ran the Institute for Sustainable Development in Ethiopia. They ended up hosting me, providing me with a translator, taking me to the real centers of diversity, and much more. A seed saving group I heard about while in Canada has helped to organize my whole time in Greece: taking me to remote mountain villages, putting me to work in the fields, and bringing me to speak at a conference. Just two weeks ago I stumbled into the village which my family is from with a terrible grasp of the Greek language and no idea of where I would sleep. Again, a kind old man hosted me and filled his days with showing me seeds and teaching me all he could. These are just a few small examples of how my year has evolved miraculously from the very first day to the last.

The past year has been a year of adventure, truly epic adventure. I have been pushed to extremes I never imagined possible. However, through these challenges I have learned the most. I still cannot comprehend all I have seen and felt. My photos remind me of a strange mix of memories from diverse rice harvests in India to pesticide covered villages, dark seed banks, colorful potatoes, strong local beers, glorious meals, laughing villagers, formal interviews in Rome, massive conferences, tiny smoke-filled kitchens, oca soups, black breads, brightly colored fields, and large temples. Many times I wake in the morning to vivid memories of digging potatoes in the Andes or riding through the mountains in the back of a pickup truck filled with Thai rice breeders. I must close my eyes, take a breath, and convince myself that this is all true. I know that each of these experiences has changed me and shaped who I am today.

For once in my life I couldn’t blame anyone else or make excuses. This was my journey and everything that happened was a result of my choices. Each morning I woke up and had the freedom to do what I wanted. I could have relaxed on one farm all year or vacationed on beaches. However, I forced myself to constantly tackle new challenges, interview as many farmers as possible, run up another hill to find a family seed bank before dark, travel to one more area to learn about their agricultural practices, or drink another potent liquor just so I could connect with the old villagers. One realization I came to was regarding my intense workaholic tendencies. After being told to relax in at least 5 languages, the lesson finally stuck. Over time, I also worked past my white guilt and shame I felt from being a privileged American. I put aside much of my ego and expectations, resulting in deeper social connections than ever before. Having so much time alone with my thoughts helped me to confront issues in my life. I learned to listen, not only to wise old women, but also to my own hearts desires. I did not have my mother telling me what to do or some grand goal to achieve. I finally accepted that the only requirements I had were ones I placed on myself.

This year has also shown me the power of simplicity. For twelve months I lived out of only a small pack. I stayed with many people who owned significantly less than me. However, these kind people gave up everything they could to make me happy, a complete stranger. The villagers in India, Thailand, Ethiopia, Peru, and some parts of Greece had very few possessions, but laughed more than anyone I’ve seen. They took time with family to enjoy good food and showed me that basic happiness is as much a part of living as any “success” we have been trained to strive for. I have become confident that I will never change the world. An individual can only do a small bit, but through our connections the actions ripple out and affect many others. While I saw many beautiful, joyous villages, I am not idealizing their situations. I did also see a farmer dying of malaria, children with distended bellies sweeping the leftover rice fields, slums of thousands of people, widows of war, and much more. Seeing the incredible complexity of our world and the problems we face, I have become less idealistic and extreme than when I left.

This trip has put things in perspective for me. I am more inspired than ever to work for positive change and have a clear vision of what my path in life must be. Life is fleeting at best and we must enjoy each minute we are given on this wonderful planet. After years of being fed depressing information on globalization and the state of our world, I have now benefited immensely from the globally connected nature of our planet. The diverse people I have stayed with have shown me what it means to live a good life. We will never go back to some ideal simple existence that may have existed in the past. However, we will continue to grow and adapt, like our local seeds. There are concrete ways I can help by teaching others, promoting ecologic agriculture, organizing community seed banks, and growing healthy food.
While tackling these efforts in the USA, I am confident that I can stay connected to this international struggle. For once I have hope a brighter future exists. I have met enough inspiring people to keep me motivated for the rest of my life. The solutions are even more complex than the problems and the only way we can win is to work together. Someday, we will harvest the power of the sun, honor authentic diversity, create sustainable farms, invest in children instead of war, and learn from each other through mutual respect.

The Watson Fellowship gave me the power to take my life in my own hands. I followed my heart and it led me to the most magical places. Nothing was perfect, but I learned to be happy with imperfection and to embrace uncertainty. Some lessons I learned may seem mundane, like the ability to talk to strangers on the street for hours or the various ways Peruvian farmers store potato seeds. However, each new memory, experience, and skill has helped me to grow as a person. At the end of the year I cancelled my trip to Mexico because I felt an intense need to learn about my own heritage in Greece. Miraculously I found the village where my ancestors were from and even got to learn about our old wheat varieties, water mills, and agricultural festivals. The experience did not answer my questions about who I am or what my life means. The Greek villagers simply helped me to accept my lessons of the year. Unlike nearly all the people I stayed with, I have lost my connection to a place and even a distinct culture. Despite this, I am now beginning to grasp who I am and am able to happily spend many hours alone with my mind.

When I first conceived of my Watson proposal I knew I loved seeds and I knew that they were important politically. I was afraid of what the future held. For years I had a quote on my wall, “Seeds are the very beginning of the food chain. He, who controls the seeds, controls the food supply and thus controls the people.” This fear and the facts of how much diversity has been lost filled me with negative expectations. During my first weeks in India I was immediately shocked at the diversity of crops Navdanya was growing and conserving. After working in the fields, I spent hours listening to the various uses for each vegetable and the ways to produce the unidentifiable grains. From this moment on, my year became a study of positivity. I quickly learned that seeds inherently carry the expression of hope. I never imagined there were so many individuals, initiatives, communities, and organizations all over the world deeply engaged in safeguarding seeds.

While some farmers and organizers I met with knew about the political ramifications of local seeds, the majority did not. I was told many times, in many languages, that “Seeds equals life” or “If we don’t have access to affordable, locally-adapted seeds we don’t have access to food.” Seeds do not represent a fight against Monsanto or globalization for most farmers. Seeds most often represent food or survival. The second most important reason I saw was taste. Even in the most poor, drought-prone regions of Ethiopia the villagers would rave to me about the taste of their local varieties. Countless old women told me that they couldn’t enjoy the crops from hybrid seeds. Even the cows wouldn’t eat the wheat straw or rice bran from improved varieties. I saw that hybrids or improved varieties have a great value when they can be grown with adequate water, fertilizer, pesticides, etc. However, many farmers do not have access to these inputs. They experience severe yield decline after a few years or become trapped in a “fertilizer treadmill” of buying more and more to supplement their degraded soil. In Punjab, thousands of farmers suffered from cancer and severe debt as a result of their “modernized” agriculture. Nonetheless, these people did not sit back and complain. They were filled with pride and excitement for the future. Instead of relishing in their sorrows, they proudly displayed the local seeds they were growing again, taught me how to make organic fertilizers, and fed me every traditional dish they could imagine.

Not only do the crops from local seeds taste better, they often cook faster and are a crucial part of traditional dishes. In Ethiopia the farmers continue to grow a red teff (a native grain) because it grows on degraded soil and can make the most incredible injeera. In Peru, many farmers grow over 100 native potato varieties in their field because each variety has a different texture and taste (they also resist different pests or climate conditions). I did see overall that there is a general whitening of our foods and extreme homogenization of our agriculture. However, people of all walks of life are resisting this. I am so glad that I travelled to a range of countries, including highly “developed” nations like Italy or Canada and “developing” countries like Ethiopia, India, and Peru. I was shocked at how far-reaching this issue really is. Citizens from doctors to peasant farmers are passionate about the importance of agricultural biodiversity. I saw different crops in each country, different agricultural systems, diets, recipes, seed saving methods, and cultural traditions.

The most inspiring projects I saw were ones that combined the old with the new, while actually working with the people. Unfortunately, in many efforts like the Green Revolution in agriculture we have totally ignored traditional knowledge. The scientists who pushed these approaches on the world never actually listened to the farmers, like I did this year. The scientists had good intentions in wanting to produce a higher yield of rice or wheat per acre. But, they did not know that Indian farmers typically grow up to twelve crops in each field and the “minor” crops were even more important to diet and nutrition than the rice. The scientists did not ask the farmers how important the wheat straw was to their animals or even what the climate conditions were like. Now, people like Ethio-Organic Seed Action and even the International Potato Center are actually speaking to villagers and honoring the thousands of years of accumulated knowledge. Participatory Plant Breeding, Community Seed Banks, and other efforts combine modern scientific techniques with the complex traditional knowledge of subsistence farmers. These efforts are dynamic and participatory; they actually benefit the people who need it the most.

None of our food that exists today simply appeared in the wild. For over 10,000 years farmers have selected, bred, developed, and grown crops. All of our current agriculture relies on germplasm which the world’s traditional farmers have developed and protected. While we in America are very disconnected from our food systems, approximately 1.4 billion people still live in families who rely on farm saved seed. We must value the incredible knowledge of these farmers and improve it slightly with modern methods. The future of the seed carries within it the future of humanity.
Giving up practically everything I know and love to travel the world alone is not an easy thing to do. However, the rewards far outweigh any negatives. I cannot put into words exactly how this journey has changed me yet, but I know my life will never be the same. I have more motivation than ever to work for ecological agriculture and seeds, but have also seen the value of relaxing with friends, listening to others, and sharing in a long meal. I cannot ever thank the Watson Foundation enough for this experience!

First 3 Quarterly "Reports"

2009-08-16T17:38:00.000-07:00

Hey Hey
If you click read more, you can see my first 3 reports from my Watson year. In true Watson style, they are not academic or rigid research reports. They are emotion filled letters to the foundation to give them some sort of update on my experiences, travel, and study. You can find them below on my blog, but I thought I would just put them in one post here.

First Watson Report
India
Adam Forbes
Crops and Cultures: The Preservation of Heirloom Varieties

Preface to My Report:

Trying to sum up the past three months in a concise report is an extremely difficult task. Over the past few days I have attempted to start this report many times and given up when I became overwhelmed with all the memories. Today, I typed 10 pages attempting to sum up my experiences and did not even get halfway. In the simplest terms the past three months in India has been a roller coaster ride of challenging situations, excellent tastes, foul smells, educational experiences, eye-opening moments, piercing headaches, and inspirational interviews. As I reflect on my time spent in India countless memories rush back. I remember walking through the “cancer villages” in Punjab with pesticides filling my nose and mouth. I remember the old- nearly toothless woman as she climbs down into her seed bank and returns with countless varieties of spices, millet, amaranth, rice, and beans. I remember laughing with farmers as we harvest rice and crying with farmers as we discuss their debt and the death of their son. India has shocked me, depressed me, and provided me an immense amount of hope for the world – all at the same time. I could write fifty pages on just one day spent touring farms in Garwhal or in Punjab. Nonetheless, I will attempt to sum up my experiences in a somewhat cohesive manner so you get a sense of my journey.

I woke up groggy as our plane neared Chennai and looked to the man next to me. He was praying passionately over images of Krishna; clutching the faded pictures tight to his chest, moving his hands in a rhythmic pattern. All of a sudden, I became exuberant as I realized that my trip was beginning and this was the start of a year of freedom and personal growth. However, these happy feelings were soon changed drastically. After landing in a chaotic, dirty, and extremely muggy Indian city at 3 am I was hassled by taxi drivers, swindled into a more expensive room, and pestered incessantly by hotel staff. As I finally lay down in my room I began to cry uncontrollably. The tears mixed with my sweat and the lingering water from the shower that wouldn’t dry. It seemed as if things couldn’t get any worse.

Three months later, I am now preparing to board another plane to leave this magical land and am filled with feelings of sadness that I never thought I would feel. The original sense of anger towards the filthy streets, incessant honking, and extremes between rich and poor have now morphed into a love for the chaos that is India. After three months I have come to understand why yoga and meditation emerged from this region. India is an intensely spiritual place in which religion infuses every part of life. However, it is also a truly chaotic and insane country that requires the patience gained through yoga or relaxation to deal with it happily. A week after my tough introduction to life in India I smiled for the first time as I woke up to see the sun rising over fields of corn, rice, and lentils. I had been traveling overnight from Delhi in a crowded and hot Indian bus. However, I couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as I saw the dappled light of the early morning sun shine down on fields of villagers waking to the day – collecting water and beginning their work in the fields. Only one week into my trip I was beginning to accept the extremes of India and constant up and downs that made up my experience here.

Now after three incredible months I have adjusted to the retched smells and striking poverty, the different notions of time and the constant hassles of being a white person. I have also adapted to the massive gaps between rich and poor in a country where some people have four cell phones and drop hundreds of dollars on drinks while others who are sick from pesticide-laden water lie on the street receiving no help. As I try to remember the details of my trip, all the memories of challenges in India somehow mix with the delicious food, plethora of unique seeds and associated stories, colorful dresses, friendly families, inspiring social movements, toothless old women with bags of beans, energetic children and soulful music to create a vibrant tapestry of life in this developing nation that will stick with me for years to come.

My three months in India have developed spontaneously, as I had hoped. The only major challenges I have faced are language barriers and some health issues (mainly chronic migraines which began before the trip). Other than that I have been incredibly lucky. Not only have I escaped the many ailments that stalk travelers here, but I have also been given countless opportunities for which I am eternally grateful. My research time began at the Navdanya Biodiversity Conservation Farm. While working here I was able learn practical skills related to seed saving and organic agriculture. Additionally I was given a glimpse into the workings of an NGO dedicated to addressing these issues of seed saving and food security. Hard work on the farm was interspersed with ample reading time, learning Hindi, and over 26 interviews with farmers in the local region. My reading and interviews with both Navdanya staff and local farmers provided me a well rounded view as to why seed saving is so important, what the state of agriculture is in India, and what can be done to address the agricultural crisis that we are facing worldwide. Navdanya has done everything from starting seed banks to teaching compost workshops, educating farmers about food policy, and creating a market in the cities to sell organic produce from small scale farmers. They are a brilliant example of a successful NGO that is empowering rural farmers by reconnecting them to their roots of traditional agriculture, seed saving and cooperative sharing.

During my interviews, some farmers spoke to me simply – telling me that seeds are life and asking how anybody could survive without seeds. Others talked to me about the great taste found in native varieties and cooked a delicious meal for me from traditional recipes. Others still taught me about the many complexities of modern agriculture and the green revolution. I have learned more from my talks with farmers and first-hand observation than I learned in all my university classes related to food combined. The narrow notion I had of the importance of biodiversity and seed sovereignty has been shattered as I have been exposed to the reality of agriculture here in India, where thousands of farmers have taken their lives as a result of debt or even failed hybrid seeds. Luckily, every time I have learned some depressing information, I have also been exposed to hope. This hope comes in the form of native rice varieties adapted to saltpan and flooding, which have saved agriculture in Orissa after the 2004 Tsunami. The hope comes in the form of a poor farmer going against his neighbors and family to create an organic farm in the middle of a desert of genetically engineered cotton and pesticides. Hope comes in many forms during this trip. It has filled my soul and given me the energy to tackle all the challenges of India. After what I have seen I can now dream of a brighter future and reject the slightly pessimistic attitude that plagues my mind.

Using the oasis of the Navdanya farm as a home base I traveled to Punjab, two different areas in the Himalayas, Delhi, Hardwar and other local jaunts. In Punjab I was first deeply depressed by visits to “cancer villages” in which 30% of the inhabitants have cancer. I spoke to women whose toxic breast milk killed their babies, looked into polluted waterways that were once rushing rivers, and felt the burn of pesticides in my mouth and nose. Despite all this, I also saw an incredibly inspiring movement that is using the symbol of the seed as a way to galvanize a diverse mass social movement. In one crazy week we met with farmers (ranging from 1 acre to 400 acres), lawyers, professors, activists, journalists, and doctors regarding this movement against the green revolution and genetic engineering. The sheer number and diversity of people passionate about this movement shocked me. In the middle of a polluted land, thousands are working together to address issues of health, nutrition, pollution, seed ownership, and most importantly rural sustainability. I didn’t truly know the vast effects of modern agriculture and the inherent contradictions until viewing the situation first-hand here in India. To me, Punjab is a symbol both for the harms of chemical agriculture and the possibility of a positive rural future based on traditional crops and sustainable agriculture.

My two visits to the Himalyan hills exposed me to different social movements addressing these same issues. However, in the hills all is not lost like in Punjab. There is still a culture of seed saving, cooperation, and sharing among neighbors. In one region I visited every house has a seed bank attached, which is intricately carved and built into the earth so it is always cool. In these regions I saw how people can live happily and peacefully without relying on the market. During one family stay, we only ate things from their farm for four days and it was delicious! The inhabitants of Garwhal directly rely on the environment around them for food, medicine, tools, and their entire livelihood. In turn, they recognize the importance of their traditional crops, agricultural practices, and diet. Even rural farmers have become aware of the complex science and data that shows the loss in nutritional quality from hybrid or genetically modified food.

India has exposed me to a drastically different life. Through my work with numerous different NGO’s and social movements I have been pushed to ponder my own existence, the impact I have on the planet, and my future role as a farmer and social activist. Old notions I had about sustainable agriculture were reinforced while I learned an immense amount of new information regarding the green revolution, genetic engineering, the importance of traditional varieties of crops, and the various ways social movements can be organized. Theoretical knowledge learned through numerous conferences and books has combined with first hand experiences and memories to create an infinite web of new thoughts and ideas in my head.

I leave India enlightened about the negatives of the current path we are on and extremely hopeful that a possibility exists. The original feelings I had of loneliness and selfishness that I wasn’t doing enough to help have slightly faded as I have embraced the Watson experience. I am eternally grateful to be given this opportunity and cant believe I have 9 more months to go. These three months have flown by, but I feel as if a lifetime has passed since I left the states. I fear I will never be able to convey what I have learned on this trip to others – its just too much. However, I move on to Italy tomorrow, continuing to live in the present and ready to tackle whatever lays ahead. Namaste and Ciao!
Adam Forbes
Watson 6 Month Report - Italy and Thailand

Before I begin I must first say how crazy it is that 6 months has passed! On one hand, the time has flown by. On the other hand, it seems like a lifetime ago when I was in America. Halfway means a lot but also means that many more challenges lie ahead. No matter what, it is a large milestone. There were times when I never thought I would make it this far. Now I am here and I am filled with energy and hope. Nearly all my feelings of homesickness or just plain sickness are overshadowed by beautiful memories from the journey so far and excitement for all that lies ahead. The Watson journey for me definitely has its ups and downs. Some days I feel deeply unsettled, confused as to what I’m actually trying to accomplish, and frustrated by living in foreign cultures. Inevitably these feelings fade as I connect with farmers, interview passionate organizers, and help plant seeds. Once again, I have spent the past two days reflecting and trying many times to sum up the past three months. I have concluded that an accurate summary is truly impossible. Instead, I have decided to simply update you on random memories and my feelings and emotions at this time. Hopefully, you can check out my blog or photos to see more of my voyage.

I left India weighed down by the heaviness of massive Mumbai slums, cancer villages, and pesticide poisonings. However, inside a flicker of hope burned brightly. Over the past three months I have had time to let the lessons from India brew within me and be put to words. These lessons have been reconfirmed and expanded upon countless times by Italian farmers, a worldwide gathering of food culture, scientists in Rome, and an incredible movement here in Thailand. At the beginning of this trip I felt motivated by the need to do something to address the devastating crises facing our food. Now, I also feel motivated by hope, good food, a joyous life, and connection to the land. The seed saving world has revealed itself to me as not a movement against something, but a movement of hope and positivity.

There is an infinite amount of negative information in this world and to be honest I have had enough of it. Over the past 4-5 years I have read, studied, and heard an exorbitant amount of depressing facts on our food system, the state of the environment, the oppression of many through globalization, systematic racism, sexism, etc. I am glad to have learned about the negative effects of our social and environmental systems. However, I have had enough! My education has motivated me and led me down a path which I feel is my ultimate destiny. Now I feel confident of my path in life and my true dream of how I want to live. I am ready to fully dwell in positivity!

What really has touched me deeply on this whole journey are the hundreds of stories of hope I have experienced. When I left India I feared that this was a truly unique experience and I would not meet passionate people like that again. Italy proved this all wrong. While the conditions are drastically different, I was equally inspired by the Italians connection to the land, their respect for an ancient food culture, and the passion of so many to protect our agricultural diversity. I met a friend in Rome and we spent our first few days talking farming, composting and seeds while eating unbelievable food and wandering around the coliseum. After a week of working on a farm growing many ancient Italian grains and pulses we headed north to Terra Madre.

In the most basic sense, Terra Madre is an international Slow Food conference put on every two years in Torino. However, there is no way to explain in words the size and power of this epic event. For four days Slow Food brings over 7,500 delegates from at least 153 countries together. The delegates are farmers, chefs, students, organizers, and food activists from around the world. The motto of the event is "Good, Clean, Fair food" and it is billed as a "worldwide gathering of food communities" All these words prove to be superfluous and fall short in explaining the energy, passion, and inspiration that is Terra Madre.

Close your eyes for a minute and imagine an Olympic stadium filled with thousands of "peasant" farmers dressed in their traditional garb. Imagine farmers from Senegal in red gowns mingling with pierced students from Brazil and the USA as a slew of inspirational speakers rally us all together. There are translations into 7 languages and the largest cultural diversity I have ever seen. The opening ceremony brought me to tears numerous times as I soaked in the energy of this Olympic stadium filled with people passionate about the same thing as me. I cried as I watched farmers carry in flags from over 150 countries and became joyous when speakers ranging from Prince Charles to an American middle school student spoke about the agricultural system and how we can get good, clean, fair food.

The next four days were filled with workshops, meetings, absurd amounts of food, dances, and parties at night. However, the real power for me was found in the many informal conversation and seed exchanges held with the diversity of people. At the same time as Terra Madre is Salone Del Gusto - a humongous fair of good, fair food. There was a whole selection dedicated to products from Terra Madre delegates. These stands with farmers and producers from around the world had unique products or food varieties that Slow Food is working to preserve. All these food products have their roots in traditional agriculture and are deeply connected to culture and history. There was quinoa from Peru, unique beans from Sicily, red fife wheat from Canada, Pear wine from Norway, white honey from Ethiopia, true wild rice from USA, and hundreds more. The Italy section had an incredible diversity of cured pork products, cheeses, pasta, cardoon, celery, and much more that represented the diversity of Italy's food heritage. I tried to break the world record for how many free samples you can eat of various cured meats and cheeses! I think at one point I had at least 50 used toothpicks in my pocket (a dangerous endeavor, but someone must do it).

I will reiterate that the real inspiration came from conversations I had throughout the days and nights with cheese makers from Italy, seed savers from Japan, peasant farmers from Mali and Senegal, farmer friends from India, seed savers from Togo, and so many more. Once again the international language of agriculture, seeds, and a friendly smile proved to break down all barriers. To be honest, I was most excited by all the young people I met. There were over 1,200 young people from around the world. They inspired me immensely with their passion, music, and creative ideas (my favorite part was when a seed saving activist from Bolivia led us in a song about seeds).

The rest of my time is Italy was filled with trains, hot springs, intimidating interviews in Rome, unbelievable food, and a tour of organic farms in Umbria. The tour was the second part of a farmer exchange between Californian and Umbrian organic farmers. For a week we were all treated like kings. Our days were filled with three hour long meals of handmade cheese and pasta, prosciutto, local bread, wine, fresh olive oil and much more. I was continuously impressed by Italian food culture as well as the importance they place on old varieties and the recipes or practices associated with them. We got to tour and meet farmers who raised sheep, grew ancient varieties of wheat, had incredible olive oil, and even a wildly passionate lady preserving over 50 types of ancient fruit trees (most varieties were at least 500 years old and she was the sole keeper of many of these culturally important varieties). After this tour I spent a whole day interviewing staff at the Global Crop Diversity Trust in the UN FAO headquarters. I learned an immense amount this day on the more large scale approach to seed saving, but also felt incredibly out of place with my sandals and 2 Euros (I had lost my ATM card). Overall Italy was much less challenging than India, but still eye opening and mouth watering. Who knew seed diversity could taste so damn good!

A frantic exit from Italy and quick transition to Thailand left me feeling quite confused and actually depressed. I arrived 11 days late to the Pun Pun green building and seed saving internship. Pun Pun is an organic farm, seed-saving operation, and sustainable living and learning center. At first I had a hard time connecting to other foreigners. I didn’t want to learn a new language and felt very disappointed by the disorganized nature of seed saving at Pun Pun. However, I settled into life on the farm and really enjoyed having this relaxed and educational time. My days became filled with building an adobe house, taking care of some gardens, organizing the seed bank, interviewing farmers, and swimming whenever I got a chance.

Pijo, the Thai man who runs Pun Pun with his wife Peggy, is most passionate about seed saving. He relates seed saving to broader philosophies on self reliance and simple living. Over time Pijos' ideas began to sink in deeper and I recognized how little time in my life I had spent actually relaxing, focusing on work I love, and connecting with others. I stopped criticizing Pun Puns shortcomings and became inspired by how they had taken this awful land and turned it into such a productive farm and community. I still felt overwhelmed by being around so many other foreigners, but also enjoyed our spontaneous dance parties and deep talks at lunch.

I gave two presentations on seed saving and my year to communities of foreigners and Thais at Pun Pun. As I prepared for the first talk I studied facts about seed control, loss of biodiversity, pollution, etc. However, all this faded as I looked through my pictures. Joyous tears filled my eyes when I remembered sons who had lost their father to cancer and gave up a job as a chemical engineer to become natural farmers. My ears felt the joy again of a 90 year old woman’s laughter as she led me into her cool seed bank and showed me seeds of millets, pumpkins, cucumbers, red beans and green amaranth. The presentations both ended up being long winded crazy rants about how much hope there is in the world, the immense amount of biodiversity still left, and how seed saving is the answer to so many questions. These positive thoughts are all I am able to think about these days.

After finally becoming comfortable with friends, building and farming at Pun Pun I had to pack up and leave. Once again the sad feelings which arose dissipated as I reached Joko Community Learning Center in Northern Thailand. Seed saving is their focus, but they use it as a focal point to start many school groups, train women with aids, provide healthcare and diet information, organize community forests, teach farmers plant breeding for their needs, etc. For days I just kept finding out more and more programs they have. Once again I was amazed by how welcoming and kind people are to me when I simply say I am studying seed saving. One of the staff met me at the bus station and organized every waking minute for me. I stayed in the village with their volunteers. It was great to be the only foreigner again and struggle with language. I loved cooking with them, doing interviews, meeting farmers, exchanging stories with farmers, eating with old women who grow 37 different types of yams, and much more. I got to go to a large festival celebrating rice diversity and their farmer field school. This helped to end my Thai experience on an incredibly high note as I soaked in their performances and deep connection to rice, helped give out seeds, spoke with passionate farmers, and learned once again about how deeply valuable crop diversity is to health, self-reliance, sustainable agriculture, farmers power, taste, religion, and culture.

Even though I am typing in a loud bar in Bangkok I can still close my eyes and be transported. My mind fills with smiling images of ancient fruit ladies in Italy, rice growers in Thailand, bakers in Italy, subsistence farmers in India, and thousands of farmers dancing together at Terra Madre. In some ways I feel like this is all some magical dream. Past ideas which I blew off as idealistic or silly now prove true around the world. I feel ecstatic in my conviction that through farming and saving seeds I can do more than just be happy and have the opportunity to fondle many beans. I can also select crops to grow well on my land, preserve our history, spread good tastes, become self reliant, bring back ceremonies and recipes, feed people good-tasting food, and most importantly spread the beauty of diversity. In diversity there in strength and survival. Climate Change is coming, but these crop varieties can adapt to the conditions, help us to adapt, and reconnect us to the land! What a journey this is! I wonder what Ethiopia holds.
As long as there are old women with seeds and organic fields, I am happy!

9 Month Report
It is a calm rainy morning in Cusco, Peru. The coca tea warms my throat and the Andean rain brings a feeling of freshness to the world. Once again, I am amazed that another three months has passed. Time has flown by, but it seems like ages ago when I wrote the last report in a crowded Bangkok restaurant. Since then I have been in Ethiopia, Canada, and Peru following my dream around the world. I left the states only 9 months ago a confused college graduate. My passion in life was certain, but I still struggled to figure out how I fit into this crazy world. Since then I have seen 6 new countries and travelled to many places I never dreamed of. Put plainly, my life has revolved around seeds: their propagation, importance, diversity, power, symbolism, meaning in different cultures, and use. The hope I have found through the seed-saving movement worldwide has been the core of my year and is something I could write for days about. I often feel like I’m overflowing with hope and respect for the power held in a seed.

However, the Watson Fellowship is about so much more than just my research. These 9 months of independent travel have given me a chance to step back and examine what my life is about. I have come to see that we learn the most through challenges. If I had simply stayed with my friends in the USA I would be comfortable and happily settled now. Instead, I have been immensely challenged both emotionally and physically. Giving up practically everything you know and love to travel the world alone is not an easy thing to do. There are times when I felt so alone it seemed as if no one in the world even knew I existed. Oddly, these feelings often came when in a city surrounded by millions of other people. Nights alone in Addis Ababa were tough as I couldn’t eat dinner without having crowds stare, beggars followed me at each turn, and young men tried to sell me anything you could imagine. I was a white face in a sea of black faces, unable to speak the local language.

There were other times I felt so constantly bombarded by people I desperately wanted to just run away and scream at the top of my lungs. There were also nights when I cried myself to sleep after hours of explosive diarrhea and vomiting (I never knew it was possible to do both at the same time!). I have spoken with farmers dying of malaria and felt children pulling on my pants to get just a piece of my bread. Through these challenges and many more I have been pushed to reexamine what my boundaries are. I have become comfortable in my own skin and have learned what it means to feel strongly out of place. Most powerfully, I have come to see the many similarities between peoples and cultures around the world. I now believe John Steinbeck was right when he said that we don’t have our own soul, but just a small piece of the much larger soul of humanity.

My journey has led me to gain a deep respect and appreciation for the human spirit in its many forms. I have shared laughs with chemical salesmen, beggars, elite landowners, scientists, farmers, racists, and everyone in between. I still subconsciously judge people based on the way in which I was raised, but now really enjoy looking past individuals harsh exteriors to see their human spirit shining within. We all are yearning to live a happy life, eat good food, find love, and gain some sort of respect or admiration. Our values and ways of living are defined in very different ways. However, there is a similar thread which links us all together on this crazy rock we call earth. This realization came to me one day in a busy market in Ethiopia. I was forced to sit down and laugh hysterically. All of a sudden, as I stared out at the mob of faces I saw that we were one and the same! I felt the anger of a drunken man inside me as he yelled uncontrollably. I saw myself in the rich businessmen pushing their way through the crowd and I felt the hunger of a desperate beggar deep in my stomach. Colors and defined faces faded away. They were replaced by a blurred mix of love, hate, devotion, dreams, and desires. Since then, I have felt content to stop searching for some huge esoteric meaning to life.
I am beginning to embrace the simple honesty of who I am. Throughout my whole life I have spent insane amounts of energy trying to impress others or define myself in relation to those around me. I was never cool per say, but I was the “compost man”, the “garden manager”, the club president, the environmental activist, etc. I hid my negative qualities and strived for some image of what I thought I should be – something that people would love and respect. Well, this year I have been away from all those who love and respect me. As a result, I have seen that I don’t have to work to impress people, it’s more important to be happy and healthy.

Many of the places I have visited this year have taught me that life is simpler than we have made it. Basic happiness is as much a part of living as any “success” we have been trained to strive for. I have become confident that I will never change the world. An individual can only do a small bit, but through our connections the actions ripple out and affect many others. Perhaps it is more important to live each day to the fullest, be joyous, and give respect to those around you than to work constantly to change the world. Life is fleeting at best and we must enjoy each minute we are given on this wonderful planet. After years of being fed depressing information on globalization and the state of our world, I have now benefited immensely from the globally connected nature of our planet.

The diverse people I have connected with have shown me what it means to live a good life. We will never go back to some ideal simple existence that may have existed in the past. However, we will continue to grow and adapt (like our local seeds). The universal nature of humanity will shine on as it has for so many generations. In times of need, leaders will step forward and movements will spread. I do not believe humanity is on a course destined for destruction. This is one possibility, but there is another path I see. Communities around the world will unite and develop local solutions to solve our many problems. Once again, food will be seen as essential to culture and life. Authentic diversity will spread and remind us all what it means to be connected to a place. We will harvest the power of the sun, create urban farms, invest in children instead of war, and learn from each other through mutual respect. Yes, this is an ideal dream. Nonetheless, this path is just as possible as worldwide destruction is! I am not saying all will be perfect. This year has taught me to be happy with imperfection and to embrace uncertainty. Armies will fight, lovers will come and go, money will be lost, land will be destroyed, and sickness will spread. But, I believe in the end we will recognize the power of food, community, and the basic necessities of life.

The Ethiopian people have shown me that there is no reason to live without hope! I stayed in areas in which farmers had faced two wars, droughts, and famines. However, they still celebrated their coffee ceremonies, danced together, relished good food, and laughed over local liquors. Hope shines in the eyes of Ethiopian farmers who trade seeds and develop new varieties which adapt to their land. It shines in the Thai children as they show me their school gardens, the happy seed sellers in Canada, the resilience of the Dukhobor community in British Columbia, and in the mountain villages that keep our ancient diversity alive. Around the world people are uniting in their awakening that we cannot continue “business as usual.” They are not just sitting back and complaining about all that’s wrong with the world. They are uniting to work for a positive solution that enables us to live a joyous life.
Ethiopia was a month filled with crop diversity, cultural diversity, passionate farmers, skipping with children, some vomiting, and plenty of good laughs with fellow seed savers. I was challenged on many levels, but left the country even more motivated and inspired than when I arrived. Through my travels and many interviews I have seen that diversity in crops is directly linked with health and diversity of human cultures. The crops and their resilient seeds have co-evolved with the cultures and eco-systems of their respective regions. When we lose crop varieties from a region this is not just a biological loss, but a loss of cultural systems, human livelihood, and farmers freedom. We lose not just an inventory of plant materials or genes, but an incredible storehouse of knowledge of how to grow and use the plants. The knowledge comes as a result of generations of men and women experimenting, selecting crops for their diverse needs, building on the knowledge on their forefathers, and passing the skills to their children. Each farming family has diverse criteria they use to determine how to spread their risk, produce enough food on marginal conditions, and satisfy local cultural needs.

Our food today did not just appear in the wild, it exists because of the hard work of so many farmers. Ethiopia is a center of crop diversity for durum wheat, barley, sorghum, coffee, and chickpeas. For years we have taken seeds from these people to develop our modern agriculture. Now, many are fighting to keep the seeds in farmer’s hands. The Ethiopian famers blew me away with their agricultural practices and complex local seed systems. In a country where nearly 90% of the population is farmers, agriculture is the central part of life. The power of farmer’s ancient knowledge can be seen quite evidently in an Ethiopian highland field with its extremely infertile, dry rocky soil that is filled with a diversity of colorful crops. These crops satisfy families nutritional, economic, gastronomic, alcoholic, and spiritual needs. Other tourists I met in Ethiopia could only talk about the extreme poverty and flies on children’s faces. However, the memories that stick out in my mind are of colorful dances, joyous families, and diverse fields. Ethiopia showed me once again how important diversity and seed saving is not just for survival, but also for community sufficiency and the enjoyment of life.

As a whole, the past 3 months were especially educational for me because I experienced so many drastic transitions. Flying straight from Ethiopia to Canada threw my body and emotions upside down. My first night in Vancouver I woke frequently to dreams of dry Ethiopian fields. For days I relished the hot water and flushing toilets, but felt disgusted by the excessive consumption. People fought in Addis Ababa over 5 cent bread while people in Canada dropped 8 dollars on a beer or 25 dollars on a breakfast. How can we explain these extreme differences? Why are some born with so much privilege while others are born with nothing? How can so many of the rich be mean and unhappy while many Ethiopian villagers in mud huts can be so kind and joyous? These questions and my withdrawal from Ethiopian coffee left me sleepless for days. However, I was cheered up my first weekend in BC by Victoria’s Seedy Saturday (nearly 2,000 people in attendance).

Seedy Saturdays began twenty years ago in Vancouver. The idea of the event was to bring together people from various fields to work together for the common goal of conservation of open pollinated seed. There are now over 70 Seedy Saturdays or Sundays in Canada and the idea has even spread to Britain. In my month in Canada I got to attend six Seedy Saturdays. At first I was very confused over how to apply all the lessons I learned this year to North America. However, I was continually inspired by the local food and local seed movement in Western Canada. The concept of food security is taking North America by storm and awareness is spreading to the issue of seeds. At each event I interviewed seed sellers, chatted with gardeners, swapped seeds and shared stories of my travels. Aside from attending these amazing events I lived with a passionate seed saver and gardener who runs “Seeds of Victoria.” She reminded me of the importance of seed diversity for gardeners in North America and taught me how to run a small-scale seed business that benefits the local food system. Other seed sellers like Dan Jason inspired me with their stories of community seed banks and small-scale grain growing.

In my first three weeks in Peru I have gotten tours of the Centro Internacional de Las Papas, visited many markets, tasted potatoes prepared in ways I never dreamed of, frolicked through Quinoa fields, and learned about the massive amount of native crop diversity here in the Andes. Once again, this locally adapted crop diversity is very important for marginal farmers because of their adaptability, pest and disease resistance, consistent yield without expensive inputs, taste, and balanced nutrition. The range of colors and varieties of potatoes in one field is truly astounding. There is beauty, health, and stability in diversity.

The farmers and activists I have met continue to show me that the power is in our hands to make change for the better. Yes, there are challenges. However, there are no excuses as to why we can’t keep our hope alive. The future is ours to grab and I see mine filled with seeds, healthy food, dance parties, friendship, love, and community. I do not need to change the world, I just need to improve the lives of some around me and have fun while doing it.

And so it ends...

2009-07-07T22:04:00.001-07:00

Hello!
And so it ends...
I am currently in Athens Airport waiting for my flight home. There are so many feelings, emotions, thoughts, and experiences I could write now. However, its hard to begin. I am sad to see it end and a bit nervous to return to crazy America, but very excited to see friends and family.

For months I have pondered what it would be like to be flying home. Now I am here and there is no sense of finality or grand concluding realization. My lessons have built up over the year and seeds have come to mean the world to me. They are more than a protest against Monsanto, but a symbol of freedom, a carrier of values and traditions, a connection to cultures and histories, a tool for ecological agriculture, survival for peasant farmers, and the basis for all life. They provide more tasty, healthy crops which promote a different way of life, are an integral part of community, resist pests and disease, help us to adapt to climate change, provide options for breeding, and much more. Using traditional seeds we can help to improve farmers lives, preserve diverse cultures, and promote a better way of life. Seeds are needed for all aspects of agricultural development. Breeders need a diversity of seeds to create more drought resistant or productive crops in the future to adress our food crisis. Peasant farmers who can not afford or hybrids and expensive chemical inputs need a diversity of seeds to produce the food and products their family needs in challenging environments. The reasons are endless and each day I learn more about the importance of seeds, their uses, and connections to cultures and farming systems.

Aside from seeds this year have taught me an amazing amount about myself. Before I left my professor said to me 'This trip will change you forever. Good Luck' At the time I didnt know what he meant. Now I return a different person than a year ago. I have seen the world and am filled with a positivity and hope I never had before. Perhaps the greatest realization I have come to all year is that the world is a kind place and the importance of community. Everyone from elite businessmen to poor ethiopian farmers have fed me feasts, hosted me, taught me, shared laughs, shared tears, and taught me what it means to be a good person. They have shown me their is an infinite number of ways to live this life and view our world. However, there is more which unites us than divides us. By learning to listen and being open and I have embraced all the world has taught me. I cannot put into words exatly how this journey has changed me yet, but I know my life will never be the same. I have more motivation than ever to work for ecological agriculture and seeds, but have also seen the value of relaxing with friends, listening to others, and sharing in a long meal.

I cannot say exactly what my life will hold when I return to the states, see family, and work on my friends farm in California. Iam excited for all of it too. Its emotional to know this stage of my life, the research, and personal journey is over. However, it does not feel like an end. Only a new chapter begins. Another story to be written, more seeds to grow!
Got to run to my flight! I will edit later and write much more.

Past Poem

2009-06-22T06:26:00.000-07:00

I just came across this poem I wrote in Ethiopia and months later I like it. Thought I would share it here.

A Night in Addis

A man travellin' alone gets to thinkin'
He thinks about things he never thought of before.
He thinks about the rich and the poor,
why some will kill for more
while others are happy to have none.
He thinks about sex, prostitutes, and love in all its forms
About starvation and deforestation.

The man sees beautiful mountains and tastes sweet food.
Why do some win and others lose?
Why do we destroy all we have and continue to fight over whats left?
He thinks so much that he cant think anymore
and he decides to just put one foot in front of the other.
Soon, there's less good and less bad.
There's just the feel of a bed after a long day, the joy in music, and the smile on a hungry childs face
The thinking persists in some form until he doesn't see faces on the street anymore.
He sees the human spirit in all its ugliness and beauty.

Death continues, men fight, seeds are sown, lovers roll in bed
The rich buy 5 dollar beers while the poor fight for 5 cent bread
All the while, the human spirirt shines bright -
filled with choice and hope for the future.
A man gets to feelin all that really matters is a full stomach, a healthy body, smiles, and love in its many forms
He lusts for his family, friends, and a connection to the land.
His lust turns to understanding and all of a sudden theres fewer questions than before.
One foot must go in front of the other and each step illuminates the next
Joy lies somewhere in between the 5 dollar beer and 5 cent bread

Not about going back, but about going forward. Community Seed Banks, Participatory Breeding, etc

2009-06-21T09:15:00.000-07:00

Some people have emailed me from the blog and accused me of saying Indian people must stay poor and we must go back to the stone age. This is not at all what I believe. Below is a quick, ad-lib response. Will write more later

Once again, I’m not advocating returning to some idyllic past. Everyone in this world should be able to satisfy their basic needs (healthy food, clean water, adequate home, etc). This year, I have been most excited by the projects which combine modern technology or scientific methods with traditional knowledge. The world has been globalized. Even rural villages in the Andes with no roads and no electricity know about Britney Spears or Obama. In the most remote villages there is usually someone who is passionate about “western” or American ideals. This does not mean we should sit back and just say, “Oh well, globalization has happened.” On the contrary we must work harder than ever to protect the culture and diverse livelihoods which are left. For once we must honor people’s traditional knowledge, but enhance it a way that actually benefits them and empowers people to evolve with the times. In terms of seeds, ideas like participatory plant breeding or community seed banks are spreading at an astounding rate.

I have seen Participatory Plant Breeding (PPB) or Participatory Variety Selection (PVS) in India, Thailand, Ethiopia, and Peru. The basic idea is to connect farmers with scientists in order to develop varieties better suited to local conditions and needs. In the breeding or selection, farmer’s knowledge is considered first, scientists then add empirical thinking and modern methods. Varieties are selected or bred in farmers fields based on the combined efforts of villagers and scientists. Traditional farmers with no chemicals are not called poor or backwards, but instead are honored and respected. As a result, farmers get plants which are more productive and adapted to their land, resistant to pests, diseases, drought, or other challenges. The seeds from these experiments can then be saved and farmers continue to develop and select them based on changing conditions or needs.

Community Seed Banks (CSB’s) is another method which has inspired me greatly all year. They take a diverse range of sizes, shapes, and organization. The basic idea is that CSB’s help to protect and promote local varieties. They ensure farmers have access to seeds which are adapted to their land, needs, and desires. In Garhwal CSB’s help to ensure farmers continue to grow their varieties, which have been grown and saved successfully in these harsh conditions for thousands of year. In Punjab the CSB’s return traditional varieties that have been lost and promote a natural or humane agriculture using the low-input seeds. In Ethiopia an incredible amount of diversity is still connected to local cultures and farming systems. However, farmers face catastrophe and seed shortages as a result of drought, war, erosion, etc. Here, the Community Seed Banks return seeds from the national gene bank, which are good for drought or current challenges. They also develop, protect and spread seeds that grow best for the farmers or those which may disappear during these challenging times. In Canada, CSB’s help home gardeners and organic farmers access seeds that grow well for them, taste exceptional, or a part of their history. From the Potato Park in Peru to the Farmers Freedom Seed bank in Punjab I have been continually inspired by how effective the CSB’s are and how important they are to local communities.

Ranging from small mud huts to large concrete buildings I have visited over 20 community Seed Banks. All CSB’s are organized and run by local community members. They are a dynamic and participatory way of preserving agricultural diversity. Many have other projects associated with them including women’s support groups, micro-lending, compost training, agriculture experiments, marketing, and even organic certification. While there is no exact model to follow, mostly all CSB’s lend out seed at the start of the season free of charge to farmers. Initially these traditional, landrace, or local seeds have been collected and grown out by involved farmers. No money is involved and farmers get quality seeds when they need them (often not the case when they attempt purchasing hybrids). The farmers who received free seed are then expected to pay back the amount of seeds they received plus 10-25% interest at the end of the season. In this way, seeds are multiplied each year and given out to new farmers who want to join. The seeds continue to be grown and farmers share their experiences or suggestions with different methods. Some CSB’s sell the extra seeds and use the money for community projects. Nearly all farmers I spoke with involved said that the seeds they got through the CSB did better than the hybrids and needed fewer inputs. Some said they were happy to taste tomatoes from their childhood again, while others said it was the first year in a decade they had enough wheat to fulfill family needs. There is a lot to tell about community seed banks and I will write more later. What I love about these efforts is that they combine scientist’s desires to stop the loss of agricultural biodiversity with villager’s diverse needs. Instead of forcing a “western” method on to farmers, CSB’s are dynamic and participatory.

Greece Update

2009-06-18T09:53:00.000-07:00

Hello Everybody, sorry I havent written in a long time, but believe it or not internet acess has still been tough at times. Or I would rather be outside playing in the Greek sun than sitting on a computer. The past day I have forced myself to sit down and type some journal entries and upload pictures.
Overall, life is great. Greece has been an emotional roller coaster ride of emotions, but filled with amazing experiences. Some highlights include harvesting wild oregano in Ikaria as the sun sets over the sea, travelling to the village where my ancestors are from, volunteering on an organic farm with my Italian friend, visiting passionate organic farmers here in the north, travelling to the remote mountains where people still save their ancestors seeds, and much more.
I am now settled into Peliti (a seed saving community) in North Greece and I couldn’t be happier. My belly is full, my skin is dark from the sun, the calluses on my hands grow with each day, and my thoughts become filled again with seeds and farming. Yep, this is the life for me! I get to work hard outside and see another side of the seed saving movement. I am filled me with hope and inspiration once more!

Below I posted a few journal entries and blog posts. I have attempted to edit them and make them coherent. I believe they are worth reading if you have any time. They are not just about seeds, but also about my Greek adventures. I just figured out a way to post part of the entry on the front page. If you want to read the rest, click "Read More" at the bottom of the post! This way my blog is not so crowded. If you are not interested in Greece, scroll down to see past reports and photos from India, Italy, Thailand, Ethiopia, Canada and Peru.

All of my Greece photos to today are now on my flickr site. Click the link on the side of this page to view them! I have selected a few random shots and put them on this page. Hope you are all well and I will see many of you soon when I return in less than 3 weeks!

Our host, proudly giving me a bag of fresh eggs as one last gift.

2009-06-18T09:52:00.001-07:00

Greece - Mountain Adventure
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

I have been carrying this quote in my pocket, so I will now share it here.

Today we are not called upon to give our lives as the brave scientists at the Vavilov institute did. We are not even required to be scientists or ambassadors, for remember it was the “amateurs” who domesticated our food crops and helped create diversity. Instead, we are called upon to help preserve the local diversity handed down to us. Whether we be scientists or politicians, farmers or factory workers, gardeners or teachers, we each have a special role to play in passing this gift onto the next generation. The manner in which we meet this challenge will determine how or whether – future generations will live on this planet.

“One thing is certain,” writes Bentley Glass. “We cannot turn the clock back. We cannot regain the Garden of Eden or recapture our lost innocence. From now on we are responsible for the welfare of all living things, and what we do will mold or shatter our own heart’s desire.”

From Shattering by Cary Fowler and Pat Mooney

A Magical Day!

2009-06-18T09:51:00.001-07:00

Greece - Mountain Adventure
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Another truly incredible day travelling to remote mountains of Norther Greece: collecting seeds, interviewing farmers, drinking fresh milk, touring the fields, and getting lost on dirt roads. So happy to see that there are still people like this cultivating traditional seeds from their ancestors and growing them in an ecological way.
The Pomak in this area are some of the only people left in Greece with the ancient agricultural knowledge, animal plows, and diverse seeds. Read my post below for more information

Greece - Mountain Adventure

2009-06-18T09:47:00.001-07:00

Greece - Mountain Adventure
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

We could not them to slow down and talk one at a time as they were so excited to explain us about their seeds and history, while filling bags with samples.

Beautiful beans

2009-06-18T09:45:00.001-07:00

Greece - Mountain Adventure
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

My favorite seed in the world. Beans are not only beautiful, they are extremely nutritious and a crucial part of sustainable agriculture (they help to return nitrogen to the soil). This is just a few of the many beans this family cultivated. For nearly an hour they explained each variety, the different tastes and benefits (some grew fast, some were excellent fresh, others grew well up the corn, while a couple were excellent fresh).

Remote Mountain Adventure!

2009-06-18T08:41:00.000-07:00

For days, Panagiotis (my host and head of Peliti’s seed community) has been telling me he will take me on a surprise trip to the mountains. Yesterday, the day finally came. Panagiotis picked me up at 5 am and we began the journey with excitement. Along the way I learned about the people we were going to visit. Starting in 1997 Panagiotis began travelling to the Pomak villages in the Xanthi province in Northern Greece. The Pomak are an ethnic minority in Greece. They are Muslim, speak Pomaki, and live in a drastically different way from the rest of Greece. They were isolated from much of Greece as a result of their religious and linguistic differences. However, their extreme isolation is also due to the remote areas where they live and their close proximity to the borders of Bulgaria and Turkey. For generations the three countries have fought over these people and their land. The entire history is too complex to explain, but today the people are still a mix of these various cultures. They are a part of Greece, but many speak Turkish and all are Muslim.
During and after the Second World War it was difficult to travel in and out of their area because of their close proximity to the Bulgarian border (which was communist).

As a result of their isolation, Panagiotis found an impressive diversity of plants, seeds, and animals when he first began travelling in this region. Since 1997, these people have been a source of seeds and knowledge for Peliti. I listened to tales of the Pomak people and Panagiotis collecting missions as the fog cleared over the green hills. The area suddenly felt different as we began to observe people in traditional Muslim clothes. Not typical in Greece, many people were out working very early in the morning. At this hour, most Greeks are still sleeping off their souvlaki, wine, and music from the night before (partly joking, but often true). Along the way we stopped in a larger village to buy bread from a local bakery. The people had a distinctly different look, with blue eyes and often blonde hair. Sadly, much of the land was covered in Tobacco fields. Even at this hour, the fields were full of men with black caps and women with colored scarves and gowns weeding and spraying the tobacco. None of them wore protection while spraying and old ladies with extreme osteoporosis still bent over to weed. Like much of Greece, most of the young people leave here to go to the cities. Not exactly the bucolic mountain village I was imagining.

After a few hours of driving through lush valleys filled with rivers, cotton, and a few old men riding their donkeys slowly down the road we got to our first destination. We were now high in the mountains, far from the cotton fields below. All around us, animals grazed happily. As soon as we stopped an older man came out to greet us. He had a calm smile and embraced us warmly. This man was a friend of Panagiotis. One farmer we met earlier had been hiking up this valley and he had stumbled on Achmed’s farm. The village is small and extremely simple. There are no large concrete houses like the rest of Greece and many houses are still made of stone. The families are largely self-sufficient and grow almost all their own food. Rye is the principal crop in this area. It was exciting for me because it was the first area I had been to where Rye was grown. Ached had both winter and spring rye. He showed us the seeds and explained when he planted and harvested each. The rye was used to feed their animals (goats, cows, and sheep) but was also important to the human’s diet. It was primarily made into flour for bread. Achmed explained how the winter Rye this year had been destroyed by dogs and weather. Luckily, he had plenty of Spring Rye seed to plant in the same field.

After a month in Greece, I would never believe that a place like this existed here...
For me, Greece seems very developed and modern. Even the small gardeners use rototillers, chemical fertilizers, and pesticides. However, here everything is done by hand with no chemicals. Like so many countries I’ve visited, animals plow the land. Donkeys or mules are the beast of burden in this region and the farmers continue to use them not for fun, but for survival. Until recently they did not have electricity and were isolated from Greece. In turn, the knowledge of how to prepare the land, grow food, preserve food, and live in a community has remained central. Even today, the villagers become largely cut off from the rest of the world during winters. After showing us his rye seeds, Panagiotis collected a range of traditional corns from Achmed. All the seeds were stored in a barn made from local wood, with a roof of the rye straw. To this day, they still select the rye not just for taste or history, but also its ability to grow well in the mountains and its use as thatching for roofs. Achmed explained to his that the rye comes from his grandfather and even farther back. He said they have never stopped growing it in this area, and it is important for both the animals and humans. Achmed and his wife also save seeds from beans, tomatoes, peppers, and onions. He never buys seeds and was confused when I asked if he had ever tried growing hybrids. All seeds he grows are from his family or community. If something ever happens he acquires local seeds from his neighbors.
We got a tour of Achmed’s fields, which were scattered over the hills. I felt like I was back in the Andes again as we scampered through steep fields to try to keep up with the farmer. They had just finished cutting a large field of grass by hand to store for the winter (with a scythe). Achmed showed me the rye fields and explained how the cut the crop with a small sickle and then thresh it by beating it on wood. Like nearly every place I’ve been the grain is then winnowed by pouring it from above and utilizing the natural wind to blow away the chaff. I thought that I would never find a place in Greece where people still harvested the grains by hand, but here it is! I have been disappointed when various wheat farmers showed me their combines from America or special new equipment (not to say this is all bad, but I could learn about large combines in America if I wanted). It is amazing to see that once again the mountains are the last place where not only seeds, but traditional knowledge still remains. I could spend years learning from Achmed all he knows about the land, growing rye, raising animals for both milk and meat, grafting fruit trees, etc.
We enjoyed a fresh glass of milk (amazing), loaded up the car with corn and white cherry trees (a special Greek Variety) and continued on our journey. Achmed was amazed that an American had travelled around the world to see his seeds and I was joyous to have been able to come here and learn a small bit of the traditional knowledge. After driving for about an hour we stopped at one of the many hot springs. It was nice to see the local men and women walk to have their daily bath in the thermal water. The water was much too hot for me, but an interesting experience nonetheless. Sweaty and dazed we continued our voyage, stopping to take photos of various rye or oat fields, high mountain villages, and unique breeds of cows. We enjoyed a late breakfast of warm bread, olives, cheese, and fruit.

All of a sudden, Panagiotis turned sharply off the main road onto a small dirt road. He explained that we were now beginning our journey to the next village of the day, much farther and more remote. We stopped a man in his truck and Panagiotis asked directions. The man refused to give us directions for over five minutes and kept saying the village we wanted to go to was too far. He said it was dangerous and we get lost on the dirt roads many times. The first time Panagiotis came here in 2003 there was not a road to the village. He hiked to the village with a photographer friend. After getting lost many times, he finally arrived. They stayed one day, collected seeds and took many photos. These photos were spread through Peliti and journalist friends came to do a story. Soon after, the local government apologized and put a “new road” to the village. Today we had the luxury of driving to our destination, but still had many hours on dirt roads and possible wrong turns with no people to ask.

This area was markedly different from the last. It was much drier and hotter. Instead of lush, green hills there were steep, harsh mountains. Along the way we saw a few very isolated villages high in the hills and stopped various old women who pointed us in the right direction and continued to tell us it was too far. Miraculously we reached the village after a few hours. Many of the stone houses were abandoned or dilapidated and the place had a strange, sad feel to it. Panayiotis may have sensed my feelings of disappointment after such a journey and explained that even if a place appears poor when you arrive, you have been given the beautiful trip here and can always find something of value.

My sense of apprehension dissipated as our second kind host greeted us. The man lives in a beautiful, incredibly simple stone house with his wife. It is built into the hill under a large tree and is surrounded by a vegetable field, fruit trees, and many animals. Our hosts were extremely happy to see the photos which Panagiotis showed of his previous visit here. These astounding images of bean seeds, tomatoes, and their traditional farms and houses were featured in various articles and Peliti publications. Both the husband and the wife beamed with joy as they looked over the photos and welcomed an American into their home. They were ashamed to let me see inside but filled with pride that I had come to see their seeds and farm. The border of Bulgaria was within eyesight and over a glass of slightly fermented milk they explained how hard times had been before. The majority of people had left as a result of this. During the war, they would be yelled at by Police for even looking at the Bulgarian border. Up until a few years ago they had no road, electricity, etc. All supplies they needed had to be carried up the steep mountain from kilometers below. Due to both the lack of a road and the politics they were extremely isolated from any neighbors. I couldn’t believe that the path we had come up was the “new” road, which they were so happy about. It was an extremely challenging, rocky road but at least they could drive supplies up with a 4X4 whenever they needed them.

Both the husband and wife were very excited to show us their vegetable fields. They save their seed from everything they grow and explained to me that the varieties were all very old. They have never bought seeds from down below, but they once bought chickens. The purchased chickens could not survive more than a year here because they couldn’t fly and escape the predators. Their local chickens are able to evade hawks, survive off little food, and produce excellent eggs (which are tastier and they say have little cholesterol). They grow three varieties of tomatoes. One is grown and saved because it is fast and produces early, the other is excellent for sauces, and the third is their favorite. It grows very tall and produces tomatoes like none they’ve seen anywhere else. The inside of tomatoes sparkle and our host explained they taste excellent no matter how you eat them. They said that there is no reason to try new varieties because these grow well here with only manure and little water, and produce better tasting tomatoes than they could ever buy. They also grow 2 types of potatoes, 2 types of pumpkins (one is black), 3 types of corn, and at least 8 types of beans. Our hosts excitedly explained why they are good (whether for taste, fast growing time, or color). When I asked about how they prepare the land for planting our host immediately showed me his aged manure and the equipment they use to plow. He then asked me if I wanted to see how they do it. Before I could answer he had ran to get their work mule. It was wonderful to see the simple process of how they harness the mule and use it to plow. We each got to take a turn plowing and they were full of pride top explain their methods and tradition.

After plowing, the wife called us over to the shade where she sat with their bags of seeds. I was blown away by the bean diversity they still grown and consume. Beans are my favorite seeds, not just because of their beauty and diverse colors. In one form or another, beans are crucial to nearly all self sufficient people or ecological farmers. They are extremely nutritious (protein) and also help to restore the land by capturing nitrogen for the soil. Through a series of three or four languages we learned as much about the beans as we could. The husband translated from Pomaki to Greek and Panayiotis then translated to English for me. Some of the beans were excellent dried in soups, while others were fresh. One variety could survive with no water, while others grew very tall up the corn. They continually told us how old these beans were and said their grandparents had used these beans here and their grandparents too. After collecting some corn, bean, and potatoes we got a tour of the animals. The chickens, sheep, goats, donkeys, and cows were all very unique and were adapted to live well in these harsh conditions, with only a bit of cracked corn as a supplement.
We ended our visit by sharing another glass of milk and I asked every question I could think of. It was very inspiring to see these people still lived here and kept the seeds and knowledge alive. However, it was very sad to hear that only about 5 people remained in the village. They told us stories of the hard times and how their sons are now working in England, Germany, or Athens. It is a strange irony how they were proud to tell us of their sons Mercedes, but they continue to live in such a simple way. They didn’t answer when I asked what would happen to their farm and seeds later. Luckily Panagiotis has met these people, but there are many other villages in this area with no young people. As the old people get sick or pass away we lose not just the seeds but the agricultural systems and extensive knowledge of how to live and farm in an ecological way (they use no chemicals and their crops looked great!).

I asked my last question about how they preserve their food for the winter and we spent the next half hour hearing recipes and seeing their various canned products. A few of the things they make are cheese, yogurt, pickled vegetables, tomato sauce, and various canned meat products. As another gift, they gave me one jar of goat meat in a bottle from last year (looks extremely unappetizing, but I’m sure it’s good). We bid our sad farewell and continued the journey through rough mountain roads.
The road improved slightly as we got down into the valley. The heavy rain began all of a sudden and we spotted a shepherd standing in the rain. We asked him for a ride and he politely declined, saying he had to stay with his animals. The rain covered him as he smiled from ear to ear and wished us a good journey. Like their animals and plants, they are very hardy people! For over an hour we guessed which dirt road to take, hoping we would make it out. Miraculously we emerged onto the paved road that brought us to the closest town. We were very happy to have made it out of the rough mountains and rain (the car badly needed oil), but shocked to be thrown back into busy urban life. In only an hour we were transported to another world. The rough mountain roads, mule-plow, and colorful beans seemed like a world away!

I am very glad Panagiotis took me to see these special people. They are some of the last in Greece still retaining and farming their ancestor’s seeds. For them, the seeds still mean survival and their historical story has not been broken. Many have started to grow traditional seeds again through Pelitis’ work, but very few retain the agricultural knowledge and continue to grow the local crops on the same land their ancestors did, with no machines and no chemicals. These remote areas were more developed than most places I’ve been this year and the people do buy flour and many other things from the market. However, the connection to the land and much of the knowledge still remains. This morning I ate the eggs from their chickens and fondled my new bean collection. Another magical adventure!

Return to Seeds!

2009-06-18T08:37:00.000-07:00

“From hand to hand and from generation to generation, so that we don’t lose tomorrow what we have today” Peliti’s motto

Less than a week ago I was in Athens- tired, alone, and sinking into a deep sadness. I found myself wondering what the hell I was doing here, why I have lost my ability to be social, and what I was trying to accomplish. With only a month left to go in this epic journey I became anxious to get home and could think of nothing else other than my friends and family back in the states. However, I am now settled into Peliti (a seed saving community) in North Greece and I couldn’t be happier. My belly is full, my skin is dark from the sun, the calluses on my hands grow with each day, and my thoughts become filled again with seeds and farming. Yep, this is the life for me! I get to work hard outside and see another side of the seed saving movement. Once again I am amazed by the unique directions people take with preserving local seed. This movement is more widespread than I ever could have imagined.

The current agricultural situation here in Greece is obviously quite different from Ethiopia or India, but there are still many similarities as to why these seeds are important and the approaches being taken. Like nearly every project I’ve studied this year Peliti is a grassroots movement. It preserves an immense amount of agricultural diversity (over 1000 varieties) by connecting people to each other and working outside of established channels. The goal is to keep seeds in the hands of farmers and gardeners. Participants freely share and exchange seeds (as well as other goods and services) for a variety of reasons. As I’ve seen all year many value the more tangible aspects of traditional or heirloom varieties: the taste is much better, they grow with less water in the hot Greek summer, the plants are stronger and need no fertilizer, etc. Some are aware of the politics involved: they save and share their seeds out of fear or a desire to be free from corporate control. Lastly, many are involved for social and cultural reasons – they see how important these plants were to ancient Greece or their ancestors and they want to continue this history. The varieties these people grow have been given to them by the grandmother or they were found in an ancient Greek archaeological site.

Peliti was founded and is run by a man named Panayiotis Sainatoudis. Panayiotis and his family have taken me into their home, fed me, put me to work, shared seeds, and tried to explain every aspect of Peliti to me (through broken English and Greece). They renew my hope for humanity and our struggle for a happier, healthier, and more ecologically sensitive life. On my third day of volunteer work we finally found time to sit down for an interview. It was wonderful to learn about how Peliti works and what they have been able to accomplish. However, I was equally moved by Panayiotis’ life story. In the early 1990’s Panayiotis helped to organize agriculture courses here in Northern Greece. During January of 1991, a friend gave Panayiotis a packet of diverse seeds from an American seed bank. Panayiotis was immediately enticed by the feel of the seeds and the beauty of the Native American corn. A year later, while distributing invitations for his brother’s wedding in his birthplace, he saw a short-stemmed black maize plant. Panayiotis asked the old woman working in the garden about the plant. She happily explained to him that it was for making popcorn for her grandchildren and presented him with a few seeds. Panayiotis has called this “the corn which changed my life” and always carries some seeds from this plant in his pocket.

During our discussion he passionately handed me seeds from this life changing plant and asked me to continue the story. It was a powerful moment for me and one which filled me with joy. Throughout this entire year I have carried one colorful bean seed in my pocket. It is the first plant that exposed me to the beauty of seeds and the first one which I saved seeds from. Whenever I have gotten nervous, scared, sick or lonely on this voyage I take out my bean, breathe deeply, and rub it gently. It reminds me why am I here and provides me with hope for the future. I have never told anybody about this bean, so I was thrilled to see another man had a similar practice. Perhaps we both sound crazy, but at least we are not alone.
After receiving these corn seeds and the story from this old woman, Panayiotis asked for seeds in each house he delivered a wedding invitation to. By the end of the day he had an armful of corn, pumpkins, beans, etc. Since this day Panayiotis has always had seeds on his mind (like me). He has developed the habit of asking everywhere he goes about what seeds the people cultivate. Gradually, he began to ask other questions as well, such as how they cook their food and how they preserve it.

Panayiotis left the city life and lived in a remote village in the mountains of Northern Greece with no money, in a house with no electricity. In the spring of 1995, at a moment of personal breakdown, Panayiotis became aware that the subject of local seed varieties was the most important topic for him and he began Peliti. Peliti began as a personal need for Panayiotis and slowly it spread and became a “point of reference and medium of expression for many people.”
Panayiotis spent years seeking out the cultivators of local varieties in Greece. He travelled all throughout the North and much of the country with no money – hitchhiking, walking and relying on the help of friends or strangers. Throughout these hundreds of trips he collected over 1,200 varieties of traditional seeds. In the mountainous villages near the border of Bulgaria, Panayiotis was surprised to find that nearly every house saved their own seed and many had noticeably different varieties. He followed people’s suggestions about where there were local seeds still left and journeyed to the most remote areas of Greece. Aside from collecting seeds he learned many lessons which changed his life. Some of the lessons he learned that “nothing happens by chance”, “when we decide to do something the whole universe conspires to help us succeed”, “we have nothing and nobody to fear apart from ourselves”, and that “we are significant and important irrespective of our economic condition.” While Panayiotis and I have very different stories it was amazing to see that seeds had a similar impact on our lives and we have come to learn some of the same lessons. Both of us have been led to incredible places and people through a passion for seed. We have benefited greatly from the kindness of strangers, seen how bright the human spirit is, and learned that we create our own destiny. Panayiotis put many of my own thoughts about this past year into eloquent words. Like him I have seen that when I fully put my mind to something it seems as if everything happens to help me reach my goal. Additionally, the most unexpected challenges or situations are the ones which often teach us the most (nothing happens by chance).

Starting in 1997 Panayiotis began travelling to the Pomak villages in the Xanthi province in Northern Greece. The Pomak are an ethnic minority in Greece. “Political, religious, linguistic, and other factors have led to their isolation.” As a result of their isolation, Panayiotis found an impressive diversity of plants, seeds, and animals. Since then, these people have been a source of seeds and knowledge for Panayiotis. This is also a similar story to ones I heard in India, Thailand, and other countries. After the seeds are lost, many passionate seed savers like Panayiotis travel to the isolated mountainous regions where people still rely on locally adapted seeds for survival. The majority of the traditional seeds being grown now in Punjab, India come from those collected by Vijay Jardihari in the Himalayas. In Thailand, many of the traditional varieties being grown and distributed by Pun Pun come from the isolated Northeast. In a way, my entire journey has been to these isolated, diverse places. Nearly all year, I have lived in mountainous areas where people still maintain agricultural diversity. Panayiotis explained to me that Greece has a huge amount of seed diversity because agriculture has been practiced here for nearly 10,000 years and because the land is extremely diverse with mountains, valleys, etc. The same is true of nearly all countries I’ve visited. Ethiopia has especially remained a center of crop diversity because of the mountainous and diverse terrain, isolated areas, and long history of farming. Similar factors led me to India, Thailand, and Peru.

Throughout the rest of the 1990’s Panayiotis worked at the Cereals institute in Thessaloniki, attended many seminars on biodiversity, spoke about his travels, and continued collecting seeds. After collecting over 1,200 varieties Panayiotis realized he needed to find a way to maintain these before they all went bad in his house. He organized various meetings that began to plan for seed exchange events in Greece. These first meetings were the beginning of a process that ended in the “Pan-Hellenic Local Seed Varieties Exchange Festival,” which is now in its 9th year. This past year over 1,500 people came to this festival, from small gardeners, to large farmers and even Athenian lawyers or businessmen. The yearly event begins with speeches and a closed exchange between farmers who came with seeds. The public is then invited to come and get the seeds they want from the farmers and gardeners. All seeds are given for free and people are recommended to grow them out and bring seeds back next year or give them to others.

Panayiotis continued to travel and live in the most remote areas of Greece. For nearly two years he stayed in a settlement of around ten houses scattered over the mountainside without electricity, telephone, television, etc. He worked the entire agricultural cycles with the people and collected seeds. Once again, seeds were a crucial part of life for these people because they needed them to survive. They couldn’t easily go to town to buy seeds and these traditional varieties were adapted to the harsh mountain climate. Panayiotis found many houses to be nearly self-sufficient and some cultivated up to 17 varieties of vegetables. A sample of all the seeds Panayiotis collected was sent to the national gene bank. Throughout all of these journeys to Greece and Bulgaria, the keepers of the seed taught Panayiotis what it means to be a good person. Similar to my own journey, the rural farmers showed Panayiotis that for seeds to be saved we need to make changes in our self. The journey has taught us both the power of community.

In 2000, Panayiotis organized the creation of a network of farmers and gardeners who still grew local seed varieties. Each year since then they have published a book with the names of these growers, their phone numbers, and the varieties they cultivate. Anybody who purchases this book from Peliti can contact the cultivators directly to request a small amount of the seed they desire. Now, 142 farmers and 18 animal breeders are participating in this network. As a result of this grassroots work, over 1,000 varieties are being actively preserved. Like many other community seed banks or village networks I’ve seen, Peliti is dynamic and participatory. The seeds are not simply collected and stored in a freezer. They remain in the people’s hands, continue to evolve, promote sustainable agriculture, and support local culture. The story of our agricultural history continues through Pelitis work and the cultivation of these seeds.

In addition to the annual festival and book, Peliti also created April 7th as the day for local varieties in Greece. The first year began small, but celebrations or events have now been organized throughout much of Greece. Peliti works extensively with school groups. Panayiotis and his wife spend much of their time speaking and teaching, often to children. They have helped to create dozens of school gardens. The school children are also actively involved in the April 7th events for local seed varieties. Peliti provides various schools with traditional seeds and knowledge. The seeds are then grown by children in their classroom. When the plants are big enough they are given free of charge to interested farmers and gardeners. One school in Greece now distributes hundreds of free plants every April 7th in the central square of their city. The mayor provides a truck and people come out to get free plants, connect with each other, and learn about Peliti’s work.

One thing which is amazing is that Peliti is run entirely by volunteers. Panayiotis makes his money from the sale of books and donations. However, throughout the country and its islands there are volunteer groups that help to organize events, teach children, collect seeds, and much more. Panayiotis spends much of their time giving speeches, and presentations to schools. They also distribute out around 8,000 envelopes with seeds and 6,000 plants. All the seeds come free of charge from farmers or gardeners. The seeds are packaged and given to anyone who requests them. In total, they estimate they have distributed seeds to over 50,000 farmers, amateur gardeners, wine growers, etc.

What started out as a dream with no money and little organization has now involved into a widespread movement in Greece, and “the most important Ngo for the collection, preservation, and dissemination of local varieties”. Peliti has received extensive coverage in the media and is now supported not just by farmers but by many businessman and urbanites in Athens. In 2001 when an article was published in the Athens news about Peliti, they attached a packet of local corn to each newspaper (12,000 in total). Additionally, over 130 musicians and artists came together to create a CD and series of events for Peliti. The CD, “Singing for Peliti,” is now being sold to raise money for the further development of Peliti’s community. They are working to create a home base and more permanent community. Seeds remain central to Peliti’s work and they have succeeded in spreading not only seeds but stories and knowledge to many in Greece. The work continues here each day.

Panayiotis tells his story and about the work of Peliti with such passion and hope. He frantically ran around the office to show me various stories, photos of events or collections, and seeds. His energy was contagious and I couldn’t help but feel joyous to be back among another seed fanatic and brother. A major lesson I have been pondering the past weeks is how kind strangers have been to me and how everything has seemed to work out amazingly. Numerous times through this voyage I would get upset that something didn’t work out, I missed my bus, or got lost. However, each time it has worked out for the better. I had a crazy idealistic dream when I began this trip and an unwavering passion for seeds. Somehow, the journey has surpassed even my wildest dreams. All my dreams and hopes have come to be a reality. Panayiotis summarizes his life’s story and the story of Peliti with a similar sentiment. He believes we can accomplish anything we truly set our minds to.
“Everything created by a human being has passed first through his imagination: the clothes I wear, the computer I have in front of me, the houses we live in, the cars we drive. In the beginning everything seemed like intangible dreams. But, with patience and persistence they became a reality.”

You may read this and label Panayiotis and me as dreamers or idealists. However, we are not alone. Countless farmers, organizer, politicians, or average citizens this year have shown me the power of a dream and persistent dedication. One small example was a farmer in the highlands of Ethiopia. It was his dream to have a fruit tree farm. Everyone had told this man he couldn’t find water on his land and it would be impossible for him to dig a well or successfully grow fruit trees. For over a year he slowly dug a well. He made a rope out of horse hair and other fibers to pull the dirt and him out at the end of each day. Over 8 meters deep, he finally hit reliable water. This farmer then collected scrap pieces of tires, metal, and other “junk” from the city. With no previous knowledge he designed and built a hand pump that could irrigate his land and two neighbors. When I visited, his land was now filled with incredibly productive fruit trees. They had formed a group of innovative farmers in the area and were experimenting with organic fertilizers and pesticides, pruning techniques, and other methods they developed. The farmers in this group were making much more money than before, did not have to ask for food aid, and could afford to buy supplies for their children.

The story above is just one small example of a dream coming true through persistent work that I have seen this year. The large majority of people I’ve met and worked with are fighting against all odds. Companies, government, neighbors, and even family are often against them. Despite this, we are able to prevail. When Panayiotis first had the idea to publish a book with all the growers of local seeds he had no money, computer, or ability to publish a book. One wealthy Greek man from the city called right as Panayiotis was pondering how he could possibly create this book with no money. The man had read about Peliti in the paper and asked how he could help. He immediately committed to giving all the money needed to publish Peliti’s first book and from there the network began.

When not interviewing Panayiotis, or eating excellent vegetarian meals prepared by his kind wife Sophia I filled my time working in the garden. It felt great to be using my body again and they appreciated the work. I also helped a little to organize the seeds and Panayiotis took the time to tell me many stories about the different varieties (where they had come from, how they are used, how little water they need, etc.). During free time I have been biking to the river and enjoying life in the lush mountains of Northern Greece.

Another interesting aspect of Peliti is their work with wheat. They help to conserve around 10 ancient wheat varieties. Wheat came to Greece from the Fertile Crescent and has been cultivated here for over 8,000 years. It has been a crucial part of Greek culture and many stories, myths or songs depict wheat or bread. Peliti has helped distribute the seeds of Tritium Monoccocum to various growers here. This ancient wheat, often called einkorn, is the ancestor to our modern wheat. It has a hard hull, which cannot be removed easily, but is an extremely hardy plant and was important to ancient Greece. As a result of Peliti’s work three farmers are now growing Einkorn on a large scale and are connected to a mill in Athens which will soon start to sell flour. Peliti has also helped return Mavragani, black wheat, into cultivation. They have received small amounts of this and other seeds from the national gene bank. The samples are then grown out by farmers, multiplied, and distributed. Numerous varieties of ancient wheat and unique tomatoes would not be grown in Greece today if it wasn’t for Peliti’s work.

Weekend in Thessoliniki

This past weekend Panayiotis took me with his family to the city, Thessaloniki. Our main purpose was to attend a large agricultural fair on Friday. However, once again Panayiotis showed me extreme hospitality as he sacrificed his time to drive me around and introduce me to farmers. The farmers we met were truly inspiring. First of all, they got me excited again to be back in America working on my own farm project with friends. They also taught me a great deal about organic (or biologic) agriculture here in Greece. The first man we visited grows over 7 packed acres of organic vegetables and over 50 acres of organic wheat. Unbelievably he does all this on his own! He also collects many aromatic plants (oregano, thyme, etc.) and bakes and sells bread from his wheat. All the products are sold in local markets and Archilehas grows many ancient varieties to Greece. One wheat was given to him by an old man who said it bakes excellent bread and is grown by very few people. Other traditional beans and tomatoes had been selected by Archilehas because of their excellent flavor and hardiness to resist pests and climate conditions. He grows some hybrids but finds the taste is much worse and sometimes the plants don’t perform as well (sometimes they grow great). Many people are excited by the taste of his heirloom varieties, but some Greeks in the market won’t buy the products because they look different or strange. For a few hours Archilehas ran us through his farm picking anything that was ready and stopping to have us taste as much as we could. He worked incredibly hard and cannot sit still for a second. However, from the first moment we met you can see the joy and passion in his eyes. Like many organic farmers Archilehas truly loves his work. He said that he does not make enough money for how much he works, but you can see his contentment as he moves through the farm explaining his favorite bean or growing method (also a bean fanatic like myself).

One other farming couple we met was one of the first organic farmers in Greece, true pioneers. They were busy preparing for a summer solstice (St. John?) celebration, but stopped to serve me tea and explain their farm to me. While they grow a huge amount of organic, healthy food, their main passion is fostering community and farmer to urbanite relationship. They don’t like to use the word consumer and try to get the buyers of their products to become involved with the farm as much as possible. They have formed a committee of community members who work with the farmers to decide what will be grown, how the products are sold, and how the farm is run. These volunteer members help to organize events and design a system that works best for all. They have had a farm stand on the honor system, but are now working to create a better model. Children scampered around us preparing for the celebration that night where they would mill the small bundles of wheat they had cut and bake bread together. Aside from organizing community, these farmers were also working to return culture and traditions to the area. Some visitors came from the city while were there and explained to me how important the farm is to their lives. Another powerful day in which I could more ideas of what I want my future farm to look like!

In the morning we went to an organic farmers market. Panayiotis introduced me to many kind farmers who told me about why they grow the local varieties (their taste mainly, but also their colors, history, and strength). Many farmers also told me about the difficulty in growing old varieties because of the strict EU regulations. Technically, any variety grown and sold must be on the EU list. To get a variety on this list is very expensive and complex. In turn, there are only a few old Greek varieties on this list. To be certified organic, farmers are also required to purchase organic seeds each year and it is very difficult for them to use their own wheat or barley from the past year. The organic or biologic festival was nice, but not thrilling. The majority of the vendors were selling beauty products or other organic goods to elite clients. Some farmers had beans, sauces they had made, olive oil, and organic meat. Relatives of Panayiotis were there selling jewelry as well. The jewelry was all made from seeds collected in Greece. It was very beautiful and helped to raise awareness about seeds. Perhaps the most exciting part was the traditional music and dancing. I love seeing Greek dancing and it was interesting to see how the music and styles were different here in the north (Turkish or Balkan influences).

The past few days I’ve been back working in the garden and biking through the hills. Tomorrow, Panayiotis and I will hopefully embark on a journey to the mountains near Bulgaria. Panayiotis keeps saying it is a surprise, so we will see what this adventure has in store for me!

Athens Markets

2009-06-18T08:35:00.000-07:00

Greece Athens Markets
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Many more photos of beautiful Athens markets on my flickr site!

My Big Fat Greek Adventure

2009-06-18T08:32:00.000-07:00

Below is a summary of my first month in Greece. I’m sorry it is long-winded and mixes seeds with stories of my journey in general. In the first weeks I took language courses in Ikaria, explored the traditional island, travelled to my ancestors village, collected seeds, visited athens and much more. Click read more to read the whole post.

My first weeks here I missed Peru and the simple beauty of the Andean people. I was shocked by how many abandoned farms there are, and the large percentage of young people which move from the villages to go to Athens or America. My days were easy as I took Greek classes, walked to the sea, and chatted with old men in the square. However, I found myself constantly judging the life around me. People worked very little yet still had fairly lavish houses, cars, phones, etc. Even most of the rural people on the Island of Ikaria seemed disconnected from the land to me. Albanian immigrants worked the fields and drinking wine was more of a priority to the Greek men than anything else. I was able to move past these judgments as I learned more about Greek history and accepted that I was in Europe – the so-called “developed” world.

Instead of harping on the negatives I finally opened my eyes and saw how beautiful my surroundings were. I found old ladies who still did cook the wild greens and save seeds, asked everyone I could about their seeds, and dove head first into my Greek classes. Another turning point was when I gave a slide show on my travels/research to some people at the Greek school. Sharing my photos and stories never fails to fill me with hope and remind me my path in this life. At the end of two weeks at the language school I could speak a little Greek, knew much more about the history, and felt excited to tackle my big, fat, Greek adventure. Instead of leaving the island immediately I hitchhiked to the other end where I had met a man who knew a great deal about the local plants. Elias and his wife Thea (a Greek American) run a restaurant and hotel. I got a beautiful room on the sea and made an appointment to spend to whole next day collecting edible plants with Elias.

My first three weeks in Greece were spent on the island of Ikaria. Some of you have heard about Ikaria because it was featured in the news (CNN, BBC, and National Geographic) recently as a place where local people live the longest. When I arrived to the island, a large film crew was just leaving. They are part of a project called The Blue Zones which studies humans’ longevity and the reasons why in some areas people can live much longer than average. The reports painted Ikaria as a very remote, undeveloped island, in which people still live connected to the land. Some of the reasons they gave for the people’s health are that the Ikarians eat many wild greens, make teas from wild herbs, are not rushed and stressed, work outside or walk a lot, eat a balanced diet of local foods, and have a strong sense of community. After hearing this on my first day I had high expectations for the island. However, in my first days I ate no wild greens, felt the people were not kind, and wondered sadly through empty farm fields now filled with weeds. The island did not seem remote or magical to me – it seemed developed and very modern after coming straight from the Andes. Villagers did not greet me with soup or a potato as I passed their house and instead often ignored me or grunted quietly. Part of my disappointment is because the Blue Zone story exaggerated a good deal to make the news and a large part is because I simply had trouble adjusting to life in another new culture and way of life. After so many transitions this year I know that each country or drastically different place throws my emotions for a loop, but there is nothing I can do to stop this.

While walking back from the store with my yogurt Elias spotted me in his truck. He was headed to feed the animals and do some work on his farm. There were language barriers and I wasn’t sure if he had forgotten our meeting or what. However, everything seems to work out better than I could have guessed. He showed me all the parts of his farm (which jutted out over the sparkling blue sea!). We picked some plants along the walk and I harvested a sack full of wild oregano for the restaurant. Life is about the moments – not the days and there are few moments as beautiful as picking oregano and thyme while gazing out at the blue sea, with the wind in my hair.

Elias didn’t have time to show me many more plants, so I offered to help him work. This took him by surprise, but we were soon hard at work- digging and preparing the small fields to plant. After work I was fed a Greek feast by his wife and they refused any money. The next day our work continued: cleaning pig pens and planting tomatoes. After a hard morning work his wife made a picnic lunch for me (two homemade cheeses, local bread, cucumber, tomato, and local olives). I ran up the river which ends at the sea next to their hotel and dunked my sweaty body in the cool water. I ate every bite of the delicious food and fell asleep in the shade next to a rushing river. Upon waking I swam again in the cool water and frolicked naked up the valley. In the evening I worked again with Elias. As the sun set majestically over the sea we looked back on our work and enjoyed Elias’s homemade wine. Life couldn’t get any better!

I spent a few days with Elias and his wife Thea – working, running up the river, and feeling the calming powers of the sea. When I went to leave they would not accept a cent for the hotel room or all the huge meals they had fed me. At this time I became convinced of the Greek hospitality which everyone speaks of. People like Thea, Uncle Yiannis, and the other locals who I met during this week showed me what Greece has to teach me. They told me stories of the time they spent in America and how they couldn’t stand the life there. They hated having to compete with their neighbors over houses and cars, they missed the relaxed Greek life with less pressure to constantly work, and they longed for a community like the one which exists here in Ikaria. They may not farm much anymore – but they all still make their own wine, oil, and often cheese. Nearly everyone has a vegetable garden. They know which wild plants can be eaten and many save the ancient seeds from their garden – which are adapted to the harsh, sea conditions. It is very different from the agrarian lives of Peru or Ethiopia, but has a lot to teach me nonetheless.

To my surprise, I found out there was an NGO which had a seed bank on the island. My Greek friend helped me to call them and for the first time I was refused a visit to a seed project. The guy who runs the seed bank accused me of working for Monsanto and coming to the island to steal their seeds – he wouldn’t let me explain myself and hung up the phone suddenly. Ahhh, the extremes of Greece! People are either incredibly kind or truly rude (not even acknowledging you when you say hello or ask them a question). I decided to be persistent and after many calls made an appointment to meet with some of the regular staff without the boss knowing. To be honest, my favorite part of the visit was my walk through the rural mountain villages to get to the seed bank. It was the first time I was disappointed by a seed saving project this year. They had collected many old varieties from Ikaria and other neighboring islands. They had hundreds of samples neatly organized in a fridge. However, the fridge had been broken for many months. The room was hot and nobody was allowed to enter the fridge which had two padlocks on it. Very few of the seeds were being grown out and the staff told me it was not their intention to give out the seeds. Families called to ask for some seeds and they were told no. For some reason, the boss had a real fear of who got the seeds and what was done with them. Samples were sent to the national Gene bank, but these seeds sat here to rot.
The seed bank was one small part of their NGO which does great work on environmental research, protection of the sea, etc. The staff explained that while working on environmental issues here they saw the importance of protecting local seed and recognized the huge loss of agricultural diversity in Ikaria. In a valiant effort they traveled and talked with many old people to collect their seeds. Unfortunately little has been done since then. They do not want to make a community seed bank or enlist the help of small farmers and gardeners to grow the seeds. It was a strange visit and showed me a bit about how I don’t want to run my future project (as an all controlling boss filled with knowledge and passion that are trumped by fear).
I left Ikaria sad to say goodbye to Elias, Thea, the magical river, and quiet mountain villages. I had the cheap seat on my ferry back to Athens and found myself surrounded by immigrants from Africa, Turkey, and Palestine. They had snuck into Greece from Turkey and reached an island where this ferry began. For hours they told me their sad stories as they made their way from their homeland to some promise of a better life in Europe. We discussed the state of seeds and farming in their villages and laughed together at the strange antics of Greeks. If there is one skill I have honed this year it is the ability to listen. I have learned that each person we meet on this earth has a great deal to teach us – whether it be a professor, a chemical salesmen, or an illiterate farmer. I was amazed by how much hope this group of immigrants had. Most of them had no money, knew no one in Greece, but were filled with joy and excitement because they had arrived.

One Palestinian man told me about the death of his entire family in the war (mom, dad, two brothers, and nephew). He had been travelling with no money for two months and had been beaten and starving. When the boat pulled into Athens he hugged me deeply, tears filling his eyes. Before this embrace, I was secluded in my own emotions. The port we were entering was the same one in which my family had left 100 years ago. Thinking of their difficult journey to America filled my eyes with tears and joy. Like these immigrants – they faced war and hunger in their homeland. They gave up their entire life to board a boat for an unknown land because of its promise of freedom and possibilities. Our world has changed a great deal since then, but a new batch of immigrants now emerges with the similar emotions and dreams of a better life. We have “developed” some countries like Greece, but left many others to be abused and dominated. I felt helpless as this Palestinian man told me of his plight from his home and smiled from ear to ear now that he had “made it”. This was the” first day of his new life”, the” first day of a better life”, and he said that he couldn’t be happier. Nonetheless, he was entering Athens with no money, no food, no contacts, and no prospects. He was convinced he would make a good life for him and his future family. I couldn’t bear to tell him how hard it is for immigrants in Athens now – so I gave him the money I could and wished him all the good luck in the world. He refused the money at first saying we were friends and I have helped him enough. Sadly, I could hear the deep rumble in his stomach as he finally took the money and promised he would use it for food. We parted ways and my Italian friend met me at the port. I was forced to accept again my privileged white life.
The next week I spent working on an organic farm with my friend Francesca. Francesca and I first met while weeding rice fields together in India and we now found ourselves happily weeding onion fields in drastically different surroundings. Francesca had come to visit me in Greece for a week and wouldn’t come unless we could work on an organic farm. After some failed attempts at contacting farmers in Greece we got in touch with Dimitri- our kind host. We found Dimitri through WWOOF (Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms). WWOOF is a network which is now found in dozens of countries worldwide. People like us pay a small amount to join. You are then provided a list of all the organic farmers in the country you desire, with a description of the farm and the requirements of volunteers. It is an excellent way for farmers to find free labor and willing workers to travel free and experience a country in a different way.
Dimitri’s farm was more a garden than a farm. It was smaller than expected and this time of year there is less work to be done as the prime crop is olives. Nonetheless, we did all the work we could (weeding, mounding potatoes, watering, etc.) and settled into the slow pace of Greek life. Dimitri lives in Antirio, a small town just across the bridge from the Peloponnese. When not working we found ourselves relaxing at the local café on the sea. Each day Dimitri’s mom prepared true Greek feasts for us. She taught us how to make spanikopita (spinach pie) from scratch. I have never seen somebody roll out dough with such skill and grace as her. I practiced my Greek with her and tried to make her laugh by butchering as many words as possible. Francesca struggled with such a slow paced life – but I found that after 11 months I can adjust to anything and am used to spending ample time just loitering and enjoying the company of other humans. In a typical day we spent four hours working, chased the chickens around for a while, drank ouzo (Greek Liquor) by the sea, and listened to Dmitri’s many stories. Dimitri fed us, housed us, woke us up with coffee and fruit, showed us the local sites, and treated us to everything you could imagine. Not a bad exchange for a few hours of weeding and some information about seeds.
Dimitri was very excited to show me his seed collection. He has been saving seed the past few years and has gotten some unique varieties from Peliti (the Greek seed exchange network). He gave me tomato seeds from the island of Santorini that grow with practically no water. I love to see the joy on people’s faces as they open their box of seeds and tell me the stories and information behind each variety. There is something magical about seeds, which excites many of us when we hold them. Perhaps it is simply their beautiful shapes and colors or their promise of future security and tasty food. No matter what, it is undeniable that so many people like Dimitri are hooked on seeds after they are given their first local variety or they save their first seeds from a plant they grow.
Also, the Greeks in Dimitri’s village were incredibly kind. Children greeted us with screams and mispronounced English words. Old women gave us sweets or a snack and one man even prepared a whole bag for us as a going away present. He ran the pharmacy next to one garden we worked in and on our last day selected everything he had in his store which would be useful for each of us (from toothpaste to sun block and work gloves). After feeling frustrated by the hard exterior of many Greeks I am blown away by the incredible kindness of strangers once again. This entire year I have been given gifts of every shape and size. People with much less money than me have treated me to trains, meals, and everything you could imagine. Strangers have fed me, housed me, taught me, and shown me what it means to be a decent human. All year I have travelled without an exact plan. I have remained extremely flexible and opened myself to what the world has to teach me. With genuine intentions and an ability to listen, help in any way, or sleep on floors I have seen the beauty of humanity. We do not need to be rich, but we need to treat others with respect, help them when they need it, and give more than we receive! The extreme hospitality and kindness I experienced in India continues 11 months later in Greece.
When I left Dimitris' I entered the unknown again with no confirmed plan for the rest of my time in Greece. My first goal was to make it to the village where my ancestors were from. A relative of mine had given me the name of the village and so I boarded a bus to the closest city. Megalopolis is not impressive, to say the least. Two power plants line the town, constantly pumping out smoke. Except from the central square filled with old men sipping coffee, the town has a very industrial feel to it. Every hotel told me they were filled with workers for the power plant; finally I had one which could offer me a room. After a good old Greek Souvlaki I struggled to sleep – thinking of what might happen the next day as I entered the village of my ancestors.
It is hard to explain why I came to Greece and feel so drawn to see this history. My dad has told me I have no direct relatives left in the village, just some people with the same last name, and some distant relatives in Athens. After a whole year of studying other people’s cultures, history, and heritage I felt a deep desire to find mine. I yearned to discover some roots I have or connection to an agrarian past. I am a modern American and have no historical connection to a place or culture. For years I have struggled with not having a “home” or roots. I often found myself jealous of the Indian villagers with such a connection to a place with all their family. I grew up in central New Jersey and after finishing high school both my parents moved away and remarried. After high school I travelled to Nepal and Tibet, lived in North Dakota, worked on a farm in NJ, and then settled at The Claremont Colleges in California. I even spent a summer working on community gardens in NYC. My friends are in California and my family is spread out along the East Coast. Basically, I am a transient, unrooted young man – like so many Americans. I felt the need to come to Greece and after many sleepless hours convinced myself that no matter what happened the next day I was glad I came.
I woke up early and followed my local map to find the road to my ancestor’s village. What appeared on the map as an unpaved country road was now a bustling highway filled with traffic headed to the sea. After getting honked at by crazy Greek drivers in the blazing sun I found an old railroad track which seemed to head the right way. Two hours later I emerged on the small road which went to Elinitsa (my great grandparents’ hometown). Men working in the fields would stop to stare as I passed and asked where I was going. My broken Greek could not explain that I hoped to find my roots and some connection to an agricultural past. The area, Arcadia, is filled with rolling hills, olive trees, and a plethora of birds. Arcadia is written about in many myths and stories as an idyllic, rolling forest where Pan played his flute, frolicked in the hills, and seduced women. Unfortunately, there were bad wildfires two years ago and much of the area is still burnt. It still has a calm, magical feel.
As I strolled into the village before ours I was stopped by an old man and woman on a bench in the square. They beckoned me to come sit down, immediately handing me mint leaves and a beautiful red flower to smell. I explained to them why I was here. They were both very excited and the woman kept telling me she loved me. I couldn’t understand a word of her twenty minute rant about my family’s history except that they ran a food store in a village, and that she loved me and enjoyed pinching my face (more enjoyable than expected). I was anxious to continue but the old man wouldn’t let me walk alone. He got his car and along the way we picked up a Greek American man in the village because he spoke English. I was immediately shocked by this man as he shoved three business cards in my face (for various fast food ventures) and asked me how rich my family was in the states. I quickly found out that everything he promotes in life is directly opposite what I stand for. In a ten minute drive to the village I learned about his 5 cars, his new fast food chains, and his hookers in Vegas. He asked me what I do for a job. I explained my research and told him when I get back I will be an organic farmer. The man then translated to the old man that I was very rich and my father controlled the organic food industry in the US. I am not sure how he possibly made this up and have become convinced the man is fully insane. Nonetheless, he helped explain to people in the village who I was.
Upon arriving in the village, Elinitsa or Mami, where my family is from we were greeted by a gruff man with the same last name as my Uncle in New York. He pointed to the other part of the village and said that’s where my relatives were from. A small crowd formed as we walked to the house where my great grandfather would have lived. Other villagers greeted me and told me about how smart and successful my family was with their food store and other businesses. They told me they were great farmers and knew how to make money. One man showed me the Ellis Island card for his father in 1904 as this was the same time my family went. My father had told me that many people left the village for Athens and America, but I had no idea it was this bad. In the early 20th century and after World War two there were large mass migrations to America. At these times wars raged in Greece and there was promise of work and the industrial revolution in America. During and after the Second World War, the USA funded development of industry in Athens. This was designed to cut off the supply to the communist forces and push Greece away from communism into democracy and capitalism, as it was a crucial area in the Balkans. This led to the abandonment of many villages. Additionally, the young people have continuously left the village for work in Athens. I found out that only 15 people live in the village now. Some have the same last name of my family, but the large majority is old and cannot even leave their homes. A few people have moved back to start farms or just to retire.
It was moving for me to see the house where my great grandfather would have lived (it is now a decrepit stone building, falling apart). On my families property there is still a standing stone house covered in grape vines. The man who owns it, a distant relative of mine, now lives in Athens and only comes in the summer. Some people have started a garden around the empty house. However, the property is surrounded by abandoned fields. I was led to an old water mill, which was amazing to see. My crazy Greek-American partner, Soitiro, translated some stories for me about how this area used to be covered in wheat, olive trees, and grapes. One old man told me how great the festivals were here when the grapes were harvested; wine was drunk all night with local bread and goat meat. They complained to me about how they cannot get good bread anymore and no one wants to farm here. I continuously asked Soitiro if they had any old seeds from this area but he did not get why I wanted them. He would just ignore me and try to talk about his plans to open “In and Out Burger chains” in Greece. On one hand I felt amazed and moved to see the house where my ancestors lived, their old farm fields and water mills, and the square where they danced the night away. However, while drinking coffee with the old women I realized finally that I did not have to search in some distant land for my roots.
I laughed to myself as I finally accepted that I am an American, from New Jersey. The people here may have the last name as my grandma and they were kind as they served me coffee and water. But, I have no relatives here and after a few minutes the crowd lost interest in me and went back to their chairs. I was left with a crazy fast food man and a kind old man who wanted me to bring him a beautiful 25 year old girl from America. It was then that I realized how happy I am with my modern existence. I may not have a hometown or an epic story to tell about my history. However, I have a mother, father, and sister who love me deeply. I have an extended family with all kinds of in-laws or step-parents and wonderful friends all over the world. I am happy I came here, if only because it satisfied my desire that I need to find my roots. Instead I now know that my home lies with my family in America. It does not matter that my relatives in the states weren’t farmers. What matters in that they love me and my heart truly lies in crazy America and good old dirty Jersey!
If anything, the Greeks in this village were much less kind and welcoming than nearly all people I’ve encountered this year. People from drastically different backgrounds than me have continuously accepted me into their homes, called me brother, trusted me with their seeds and children, and given me all the love I could I ever hope for. It took me years and many hours flying to accept that I am a modern American man with a love for the soil, music, family, and friends. I do not have to search anymore as I know that my roots and my inspiration can be found anywhere. I can learn a great deal from the Indian villagers or Ethiopian farmers, but will always return to my homeland, filled with its crazy politics, offensive media, and eccentric people. We often search for the things farthest from us, while ignoring the beauty right under our nose. It has taken me travelling around the world to truly appreciate all that lies ahead for me at home. For once, I am proud to be an American!
After meditating for a few minutes on the old foundation of my family’s house I was beckoned to leave. I exchanged numbers with the villagers and got back in the car with my new guides. They took me to a spring in the forest where all the villagers come in the summer to picnic, drink wine, etc. We then went to Soitiros' farm; he was very excited to show me all he had planted over the last week. He was working a lot outside so he could lose his gut and attract young women again. Soitiro had no interest in traditional seeds and blatantly ignored my question each time I asked. He bragged about how good the chemical fertilizers were and I was dumbfounded about why he wouldn’t even answer me regarding seeds until I realized he just ignored my comments all together. I told him I really love to eat hippopotamus and he responded by saying that he has a beautiful daughter who I could meet if I want and if I am rich enough (maybe she likes to eat hippopotamus?).
That night I returned to my power-plant surrounded hotel room in Megalopis because I had already paid for it. George, the old man from the bench, really wanted me to stay with him so they would come the next morning to pick me up. After waiting for hours, they finally came at midday and we began our adventure. First, we went to an old friend’s house who played clarina (traditional Greek music with clarinet) and who supposedly could get any woman in Megalopi. He was a stylish older man who still lived with his very old parents. While his mom prepared us bread and coffee he serenaded us with Clarina and George led me through the house in a traditional Greek dance. The rest of the day was filled with wine, visits to friends, plenty of Clarina music, talk of the old days in Greece, plans about how to get rich, and plenty of souvlaki and cigarettes (like true Greek men).
I woke the next day in the village, gazing towards my ancestor’s house and listening to the sounds of chickens and old women sweeping. I had no idea what to expect for the day, but George soon served me coffee and explained to me that we would go to visit his cousin. Yesterday, George had heard my request for old seeds and he now presented me with two types of beans from his father. His family had grown these beans for generations in this area and a tear filled his eyes and he urged me to plant a few in his garden and bring the rest to America. He told me that he had never made it to America, but his families seeds would (another magical moment).
The entire journey to his cousins house we blasted traditional Greek music, clapped and sung together (I simply made strange, deep sounds with my mouth and pretended to know the words). His relatives lived in another nearly abandoned village. Nonetheless, they had an incredible view of the rolling hills and sea below. We drank wine for hours and feasted on what they had cooked for us over the fire (mostly all from their farm). After eating, the old woman forced me to take a nap with the other men. She gently tucked me in and patted my forehead, reminding me how much I missed my beautiful mother. The snores of the other men truly frightened me and I struggled to sleep. Upon waking they gave me some seeds and bid me farewell, promising we would never forget each other. For the next four days I packed up my bag each morning, preparing to leave, but ended up staying another night with George. For two days I went on adventures with my crazy friends as they encouraged me to try to lure young women to them, showed me the sea with the most beautiful girls, and fed me the best souvlaki around. After each excursion I returned to the square in the village and chatted with old women as they pinched me and continued to tell me stories I couldn’t understand. They competed over who would feed me and some days I ate three dinners because I couldn't bare to tell one of the ladies I had already eaten.
At night I would hang out at the café in the square and try to talk farming with everyone who came out for a coffee or wine. The first night, everyone told me they didn’t have seeds and had no interest in speaking with me. However, after I stuck around for awhile and they saw how excited I was to learn my family’s history and help them in their gardens, their hard exteriors began to fade. By the third day, old women were waiting for me on the road to secretly hand me their old seeds. As I ate lunch in their house, they would prepare bags or wild oregano, chamomile, various unknown spices, vegetable seeds, and a piece of pie for the morning. My days were filled with extremes, vacillating between missions to find prostitutes for the old men (something I was forced into) and amazing meals with the village women as they filed my stomach and pockets with their stories and food.
One day, I finally broke away from my companions and walked alone back to the house where my ancestors were from. I stopped along the way to drink coke, coffee, and lemonade with various villagers. In the square I encountered a younger man and explained why I was there. He told me he had heard about me and explained that he was a retired police officer, with the same last name as my great uncle. Instead of welcoming me with open arms, he grilled me about what my father did, where I came from, what my intentions were, etc. Finally, he accepted that I was not lying and showed me into the villages’ museum. It was very exciting to see a wall covered with photos and drawings of many of my ancient relatives. I was most enthralled by the old agricultural tools, and images of what life was like here before the mass migrations. The visit to the museum truly capped my time here as it allowed me to learn about the history of my family and accept my current existence and passions which shaped my life more than the name of my great grandfather.
After a week I finally decided to leave George’s house and continue onwards. I was sad to leave the rolling hills and the kind old women, but happy to break free from the pressure of the fat, souvlaki-eating, chain-smoking, horny Greek men. I had heard about a beautiful mountainous area nearby, so I decided to head there. Luckily, I just barely made both buses and ended up in Dimitsana. With a small backpack and an excitement to be alone again I hit the trail, following signs for the river. After about an hour of frolicking joyously down the valley, I heard somebody yelling in English for me to join them for coffee. I had stumbled upon another Greek man who had been America for years and now returned to his home village. I gobbled down coffee, goat meat, various cheeses and breads, two types of Greek liquor, and two local sweets. I then hit the mountainous trail again, embracing the ironies of my Greek adventure as my stomach rumbled in confusion. As the sun was setting a German man honked his car from the road and asked me if I was headed to the monastery. I had no idea there was a monastery, but told him yes anyway. He gave me a ride to the end of the road. I was blown away by this ancient monastery built into the rocky hills. Before entering the impressive structure I wondered through the gardens and then stumbled into a cave. To my surprise the cave was filled with praying monks. One monk stood up and strictly scolded me. All I understood was, “Never enter the cave, Never!” (another lesson learned in Greece).
For the next days I hiked up and down the river trail, entering every ancient monastery I could find, bathing in the river when I got hot. The Greeks I passed or monks I met asked me where I was going and where I would sleep that night. When I answered I don’t know in Greek, they were taken aback and asked at least another 5 times, thinking that I didn’t understand the question (when someone doesn’t understand our language we often yelling – thinking this will help). The truth was that I had no idea. For two days I slept under the stars in between the trail and the river. I hid myself from passing people, fell asleep to the sound of monks praying, and woke to the loud gong at 5 am. It was a time for thinking and enjoying being alone. When I got lonely or tired I simply took out the bag of seeds and fondled each one gently, remembering the old woman who had slipped them into my pocket and dreaming of all those who had grown this variety and cooked it.
On my walk back to the town it started pouring rain. I had left all my rain gear or warm clothes in the city. Scampering from tree to tree I tried to stay as warm as possible. After hours of shivering and yelling at myself for leaving behind my jacket I emerged on the road and found a warm tavern to eat some fresh goat meat and wine. With a contented stomach and wet clothes I boarded the bus to Athens.
My next few days were spent exploring Athens. I felt that I could not leave Greece without seeing Athens and its famous historical sites. On my first day, I found myself putting off the Acropolis to chat with recent immigrants from Nigeria and explore the neighborhoods for the meat market, fruit and vegetable market, and smaller weekly farmers market. The first thing I noticed is that the markets were much cleaner and better organized than those in Peru. They lacked the friendly old women with every color of potato imaginable, but still featured some smiling farmers and a beautiful display of fresh food. The choices are less exotic and resemble much of what we grow and sell in the states. The unique things were the many types of “wild greens” sold, aromatic plants, unique eggplants, plethora of seafood, and strange pieces of animals. I found one farmer who was excited to share information on growing biologically and told me about the seeds he saves and how much better they grow than the hybrids he used to buy. However, most sellers were not interested in speaking with me.
The Acropolis, National Museum, Ancient Agora (market) and other sites were impressive. I was awed by the massive architectural undertakings, long history of “civilization” or democracy here, and complex system of mythical gods. I also searched out any information on agricultural history and found a man in the museum who showed me the importance of wheat and barley to Ancient Greece (some say they have been grown here for 8,000 years!). In many sculptures, Demeter (the mythical god of wheat and agriculture) is depicted handing a piece of wheat to the other gods. Other sculptures depicted women grinding flour or kneading bread. I loved seeing the plethora of ancient art and learning how important music and dance has also been to Greece for thousands of years. The sites were not as pristine and powerful as Macchu Pichu, but still emotionally moving and beautiful. After three days in the bustling city I boarded a night train to the North. Once again, I was headed to the unknown, returning to the world of seeds. I was to be met on the other side by the head of Peliti, the most important NGO for the collection, preservation, and dissemination of local Greek varieties.

My friendly host!

2009-06-18T08:30:00.003-07:00

Greece - Journey to my ancestors village
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

I met George on my first walk into the village. He immediately told me I could stay with him and took me to the house where my family was from. I was supposed to stay only one day, but ended up staying with George for nearly a week. He loved having my company as we went to cousins for meals, explored the area, and I helped him in his garden.
George found these old beans seeds for me in his basement from his father. He cried upon giving them to me, asking that I plant a few in his garden and bring the rest to America. George was never able to make it to America, but insisted that his beans do,
A truly wonderful man (although lonely and strange) who showed me again the kindness of strangers!

Greece - Journey to my ancestors village

2009-06-18T08:30:00.001-07:00

Greece - Journey to my ancestors village
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

The first Greek woman who stopped me as I entered the area where my ancestors are from. She spoke to me for nearly thirty mintues about my families history, of which I understood little. What I did understand is that she kept saying she loved me while pinching my cheeks. She was so happy to hear I was a farmer and later brought me old seeds for her variety of zucchini!

White Guilt and Renewed Hope

2009-06-18T07:52:00.000-07:00

This is another emotional rant about my time in Greece and seedy lessons.I will write more concise, logical entries later. Just in case any of you want to read this, here it is. I mostly write these journal entries as a way of therapy for myself and to not forget.

I have been in Greece over two weeks already. Peru seems like a distant land and my mind is still slowly adjusting to another new culture and way of life. As I sit to write I look out over a perfectly still blue sea. Bells ring quietly in the lush hills surrounding me as goats move about gingerly to find their favorite food. A hen moans loudly as she lays her egg and two cars crawl up the dirt road.

My first few days here I was utterly amazed by the beauty. I frantically picked wild oregano and thyme, bought some old men in the village a beer and tried to ask them about their farms, rubbed myself in potent wild lavender, and frolicked through colorful hills. Despite all this, there was something nagging at my soul, pulling my emotions into confusion or depression. I was walking down the hill, staring at the sparkling sea when the wave of confusion first struck. I felt so happy - the sun of my face, gazing out into infinity, the music from my recently acquired iPod sung in my ear. However, soon after feeling this great joy I found myself lying on the ground- curled in a fetal position, crying and frantically running my hand through my hair. Dark images of this past year began flashing in my head.

I remembered teaching a group of children in India with distended bellies how to give a high five. I remembered crying with women who told me about their son’s death or hugging an orphaned boy as he showed me photos of his mom. I can still feel the desperation from the group of Ethiopians as they ask me what America can do to help them. For days after this strange crying session in the gravel road I struggled with my white guilt. My dreams were filled with memories of hungry children and oppressed communities. My heart felt so heavy that even wine and Greek dancing did not bring a smile! I couldn’t stop asking why. Why are some so wealthy while others struggle to survive? Why are the dark skinned people of this world
continuously abused and oppressed? Why are we as white men given so much freedom and power? How can I spend a Peruvian mans salary for a month on one meal here?

These questions gnawed at my insides day and night. Repressed memories from this year and before wouldn’t leave me alone The calm sea outside my window reminded me of the still ocean I dipped my feet into only hours after the Tsunami ravaged entire villages and families (four years ago in Thailand). I couldn’t eat the food on my plate without thinking of all those kind souls I met who will go to bed hungry tonight. I felt angry at myself and the wealthy Greeks around me. Instead of enjoying the gorgeous hills I was deeply saddened by the abandoned farmland which people in Peru or Ethiopia could use to survive. Despite all this, the wave of emotions receded almost as quickly as it began. I was asked to show some pictures to a group of people here. As I scrolled through the thousands of images, my mind became clear and I realized again what this year has really taught me. I remembered the Ethiopian children with no possessions in the world as we laughed and skipped through dry, rocky fields. I yearned to spend another cold night surrounded by 12 Peruvian children after a great meal of potato soup. I couldn’t help but smile thinking of all the proud farmers with their seeds- especially the old woman in the Himalayas who had never met a white person before. She fed me until I was sick and filled my pockets with seeds, chasing after me to give me one last variety of holy barley she had forgotten. I was reminded of the young Ethiopian couple with over 42 varieties stored safely in their house: including sorghum called “The one which saved grandma” and a teff variety that made the other women cry out in jealously after they tasted it. I remembered the meetings in the Andes about the importance of protecting native potatoes and the excitement in children’s eyes as they told me about each new potato variety we unearthed.

The white guilt faded as I realized that not one farmer this year has regarded me with contempt or anger. The traditional farmers and seed savers have opened their hearts and homes for me. Countless families have sacrificed their best food stores to prepare a feast for my arrival. I have participated in coffee ceremonies, goat slaughters, rice harvests, farmer field schools, organizing meetings, dances for native millet, songs for Himalayan mixed crop systems, and much more. I have experienced extreme hospitality in every rural place I’ve been. Dozens of farmers have been excited to give me their seeds and teach me not just about their propagation: but also about their uses, histories, and the importance of sharing. Repeatedly, I’ve seen the power of pride and local sufficiency.

I know now that community is the most important aspect to life. Money, fame, beauty and even health fade but community or a strong social network is what keeps us alive and happy through all the hardships. Some of the best moments of this year have been laughing with old men in languages I don’t understand, visiting neighbors to chat and stare into each other’s eyes, or sharing tea after a hard days work. At first I saw the beauty in these rural villages and couldn’t help but criticize the USA. In America, we have become slaves to our jobs and our material possessions. True health or happiness is sacrificed for our work. We have been programmed to think that we need a huge amount of material goods, and we keep working to acquire these. Many of us get sick from working too much and lose our connection to friends and family. We then work more to pay for our health insurance and forget our loneliness. We become stuck in a vicious trap. It doesn’t have to be like this and for many it’s not!

What I meant to say when I started this whole rant is that the kindness of farmers, their innovativeness, and passion for healthy, happy life overrides any white guilt I was struggling with. Guilt is a worthless emotion which helps no one. Instead of wallowing in sorrow or confusion I must seize the day and life in a way that benefits the earth. I was born a privileged, white boy from New Jersey. I can’t deny this. But, I can use my privilege to help those around me. All the people I have encountered this year who live in the most challenging situations do not sit and complain, sinking into misery or jealousy. They figure out a way to work together to improve their community.

I will forever remember a talk I had with Umendragi after ten days of visiting farms in Punjab. He told me that he was confident their natural farming movement would spread across the whole state and they would win. He was sure the Multi-National Companies would leave Punjab and they would restore health and pride to the people here. After all I had seen I could not believe these ridiculous statements. There was a train each day that took hundreds of cancer victims from one village to the hospital. I saw massive fish kills and stayed with various orphans or widows. Advertisements for fertilizers, pesticides, new seeds, and tractors were everywhere. Farmers took loans they could never pay and sprayed chemicals which we ban in America. I asked Umendra how he could be so confident. He laughed and told he had no choice. He instructed me to close my eyes and envision a happy, ecological, and spiritual life returned to my homeland. Umendra asked me to envision the world I desired (filed with equality, diversity, healthy people, good food, strong communities, and dance parties). He then showed me that I had no choice but to fight for that and believe I will succeed. It is important to put things into perspective, but to also have an undying passion and hope in what we are doing. This is what kept Gandhi going and this is what keeps Umendra going. Umendra knows that many say it is not realistic to teach natural farming in Punjab. However, he takes joy from each smile he helps to create, and feels inspired by each new member or successful meeting.

I left this conversation feeling that Umendra was too radical and idealistic. Since then, I have seen enough to convince me he is right. There are enough of us questioning the system of oppression, environmental destruction, and unfulfilled lives. We may not have all the answer yet, but we will prevail. It is not a fight against something, but a movement for a positive future. As long as enough people are asking similar questions and deciding to work together for a better life, there is hope and infinite possibilities. Statistically, in Punjab and much of the world things couldn’t get much bleaker. When you remember the statistics, but focus on learning from all the inspiring people of this world – your attitude can change drastically. I find hope in the farmer field schools in Thailand, Potato Parks in Peru, Slow Food Presidia, and Sustainable Developments in Ethiopia, village led seed banks, and endless festivals. Around the world people are asking why we must follow this one path of development. Why must we live the way in which the elites and corporations dictate? I have seen in 8 countries that there is more which unites us than divides us. We all value family, health, friends, rewarding work, and celebration. We all want a good life for us and our families. Movements are taking hold in nearly every country to restore culture, put local ownership and control back in people’s hands, value good food, and live a life connected to the ecology around us.

I hear Umendras' voice in my head and I know he is right. For much of this year I have lived with people who have no material possessions, but are rich in social capital. They always have friends and family who will lend a hand, share what food they have, exchange the best seeds, prepare a warm drink, and make each other laugh in times of need. I have seen that our movement may not have to money or power to fix all the villages that desperately need help. However, we have the social capital. We have people from all walks of life who are willing to question the system and give everything they have to improve our lives. Seeds are food. Healthy, affordable food is a right and a necessity for every human on this planet. Working together we can make our dreams a reality. I have seen enough smiling faces, dark seed banks, colorful dances, and passionate meetings to know that we will win!

Diversity given to me

2009-05-09T05:04:00.000-07:00

Perulastdays 036 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

This picture is of some of the astounding diversity given to me by proud farmers as a gift. Much of it I cant bring back into the states, so I took some pictures to remember.
Included here are potatoes, oca, ulluco, amaranth, Quinua, faba beans, Aji, Rocotto, and Nuna beans.
Beautiful huh

Update

2009-05-09T05:02:00.001-07:00

Hello Everybody.
I have posted my photos from my last week in Peru to flickr. You can access through the link on the right. I also just discovered you can click on photos on my blog to enlarge them.
Thanks for those who have emailed me and dont hesitate to write with any questions or comments. Im sorry if I dont write back sooner. My email is forbesfarmer@yahoo.com

Soo, I have left Peru and am currently settling into life in Greece. There is sooo much I could tell and I hope to organize my thoughts today and write more soon. My last week or so in Peru was spent touring Quinua fields, eating my way through markets, chatting with as many old women as possible, going to agricultural festivals, and viting the International Potato Center. Each day was packed and I am happy to end my Peruvian adventure on such a high note. Even three hours before my plane I was eating Quinua and Apple Juice, and boiled potatoes on the street. As always it was whirlwind trip from Peru and I was filled with a mix of emotions - excited for Greece, but very sad to leave Peru (its people, the Quinua, the potatoes, and of course the magical Andes)

I am currently on a beautiful Island called Ikaria in Greece. The scenery in stunning and I am taking some language classes to learn basic Greek. The food is wonderful and it is a very rugged island which has resisted much of the development in the rest of Greece. Nonetheless, it is a bit of a hard transition for me to be in a developed country. I miss Peru and am continually shocked by the price of things here, stylish clothes, abandoned farm fields, etc. Most people dont get what Im studying and people do not all greet each other on the street and chat like in the Andes. In Peru, many times I had to turn down countless invitations by farmers or villagers for dinner, work, or tea. Now, Im just another nameless tourist in Greece.
I will write more when Im a little more settled or less confused I guess.
I hope you all are well and are resisting the swine flu and economic collapse.
Keep smiling and know that anything is possible in this world!!
Adam

Quinua Seeds

2009-05-09T05:01:00.001-07:00

Quinua Days
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

This family spent over an hour with me teaching me everything about growing quinua, harvesting, and cooking. They prepared an excellent Quinua lunch for me with onions, and their own cheese and milk spread on top.
At the end the joyfully handed me a large bag of their best seeds to use in the States. I now have a permit to bring back a small amount of seeds! Yeah!
Every country or region I visit, I think I have found the most kind and hospitable people in the world. However, I am continually amazed at how kind farmers are to me when I walk up to their house and say I want to studied their seeds. For over 9 months now, farming families have fed me, housed me, healed me, and taught me an immense amount about farming and how to live a decent life. I wish there was someway I could repay them and often feel guilty for taking so much from these kind people. They have given me hope, knowledge, and shown me who I really am and what my purpose is in this crazy world. For that I cant thank them enough!!
I am sad to leave the Peruvian people!

Mixed Quinua Field

2009-05-09T04:55:00.001-07:00

Quinua Days
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Red Quinua

2009-05-09T04:54:00.001-07:00

Quinua Days
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

I have to admit, I have fallen in love with Quinua!

Large Quinua fields near Jauja.

2009-05-09T04:53:00.001-07:00

Quinua Days
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Our car got stuck in the mud over 12 times, but we finally got to see these glorious fields of Quinua, for market. These fields are said to all be one distinct variety, but you can still see there is a great diversity in color.

Quinua Diversity Experiment

2009-05-09T04:51:00.001-07:00

Quinua Days
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

A very educational morning spent with INIA - A Peruvian government agency. This field is an experiment with 28 different Quinua collections. The seeds were collected from all over Central Peru last year and were grown out this year. They will now be tested for yield, pest and disease resistance, seed size, nutrient quality, protein, saponin content, etc. Over the next 5 years they hope to select a native variety which will work best for small scale farmers in this region and can be sold commercially.

Potato Breeding

2009-05-09T04:47:00.001-07:00

Perulastdays 045 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

This photo is also from the International Potato Center in Peru. I spent a few days with them learning about their work and seeing the other side of how native potatoes are used. It was really interesting to learn about the importance of some of the rare local varieties in their breeding work. They are working on breeding potatoes resistant to late blight and numerous others diseases or stressors. While not perfect, more emphasis is being put on developing varieties that will actually work for marginal farmers. My spanish was much better by this point and I got to talk to many of the breeders, scientists, and staff about their work.
This visit emphasized the point again how farmers and scientists can work together in a way that benefits both. We owe all of our worlds food system to the anicent farmers who have developed, selected, and kept crop diversity alive. Now, many of them need our helped and suscessful strategies can be implemented if we value traditional knowledge, but work to improve it slightly with modern techniques.
Many more scientists and policy makers are starting to see the value of in-situ crop conservation (keeping divsersity growing and alive in farmers fields). It is widely recognized that the crops growing in farmers fields and their genes will be crucial if we hope to survive the impending climate change. By keeping native or traditional varietes growing in farmers fields, they can keep evoloving and adapting to the changing conditions (droughts, floods, heat, early frost, etc).
We need both the work of the worlds susbsistence farmers and the work of groups like the International Potato Center.

Aeroponic Potatoes at International Potato Center

2009-05-09T04:39:00.001-07:00

Perulastdays 055 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

This photo is of some of the aeroponic potatoes being grown by the International Potato Center in Peru. It is a method they have developed to grow disease free tubers for breeding, experiments, and distribution to farmers.

Potato Diversity at the festival in Jauja

2009-05-09T04:35:00.001-07:00

Perulastdays 059 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Many farmers featured their potatoes and their was a contests to see who grew the most unique varieties. Many more photos on my flickr site.

Grain/ Flour diversity

2009-05-09T04:32:00.001-07:00

Perulastdays 007 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

My favorite part of Andean cities was wonderign the markets, tasting and talking to sellers. I was blown away by the range of products they have from their native grains. This photo shows some of the flours, flakes, cereals, and other products made from their Andean grains (quinua, kiwicha, kanihua, barley, etc.)
I spent an hour talking to this woman and hearing how each is used.

Potato Diversity in the City

2009-05-09T04:28:00.001-07:00

Perulastdays 026 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Only a fraction of the native potatoes make it to the markets in the cities. Many of the varietes I saw and ate in Choppca are grown only by a few families for their household consumption.
Studies by a number of researchers have shown no genetic erosion in the native potatoes in many parts of the Andes. However, some believe the area which many of the native varieties are grown on has shrunk greatly.
Every family I interviewed grew both monoculture fields of modern varieties and mixed fields of their native varieties. Everyone I spoke to was passionate about continuing to grow their native diversity for flavor, strength, ceremonies, starchiness, and diverese uses.
One thing is for sure, the large majority of the Andean potato varieties are kept alive only by the passion and love of a few farmers.

Peru Fruit

2009-05-09T04:21:00.001-07:00

Perulastdays 034 (Medium)
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

My last day in a Peru market - trying to eat every color food possible and taste anything I hadnt tried yet!

Goodbye to my friends in Choppca

2009-04-23T16:03:00.001-07:00

Chopcca (145) (Medium)
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

My last day in Choppca I went to large festival with some of my friends from the village. As always I was the center of attention, being the only white guy in a crowd of thousands. We watched the horse races (suprisingly dangerous - as the horses run into the crowd and some people get trampled) and talked about their different potatoes one last time. I am incredibly inspired by their pride for their local culture and crop diversity. Once again I see how directly linked native crops and agricultural bioodiversity are with culture. Although Im getting exhausted of travelling, these people filed me with hope and joy again by feeding me, laughing with me, showing offf their potatoes, and teaching me the benefits of growing such an obscene diversity of potatoes, Oca, Ulluco, Quinoa, wheat, oats, fava beans, and more. Each farmer has a different story to tell, a different lesson to teach me, or a different colored potato for me to try! I will miss these people.

Potato Harvest

2009-04-23T16:01:00.001-07:00

Chopcca (135) (Medium)
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

These are just a few of the varieties we harvested from one field. The daughtrer proudly assembled this pile for me to show off their varieties. She excitedly told me about each, how they were cooked, which was her favorite, and which was her sisters favorites.

Children open up to me much easier than adults

2009-04-23T15:59:00.003-07:00

Chopcca (130) (Medium)
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Oca harvest

2009-04-23T15:59:00.001-07:00

Chopcca (129) (Medium)
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Oca harvest

2009-04-23T15:58:00.001-07:00

Chopcca (128) (Medium)
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Potato Harvest

2009-04-23T15:57:00.001-07:00

Chopcca (125) (Medium)
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

I am out of shape!

Playing with children while harvesting

2009-04-23T15:56:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Quinua!

2009-04-23T15:55:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Womens meeting on Potato Diversity

2009-04-23T15:53:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Amazing Valley

2009-04-23T15:52:00.003-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Leaders of the village!

2009-04-23T15:52:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Me with some friendly farmers

2009-04-23T15:51:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

They got to see my white bum as I changed back into my clothes. Man you should have seen their faces!
An awesome lunch too! Arguably the best potatoes yet

Frolicking through Potatoes all dressed up

2009-04-23T15:50:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Oca harvest

2009-04-23T15:48:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Tilling new land for potatoes

2009-04-23T15:47:00.003-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

These guys are animals!

Purple Papas!

2009-04-23T15:47:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Peru Update

2009-04-22T21:02:00.000-07:00

Hello everybody.
First of all. I posted all my photos to flickr. If you are bored or have time, you can acess them through the link to the right. The pics of this page just provide you a littles taste.
Thanks so much for reading and taking the time to check my stuff out. I am stuck on the internet today figuring out some plans for the rest of my year, money, plane flights, etc. Some of you may be dissapointed, but I have decided to go to Greece instead of Mexico. Its hard to explain my rationale, but after all year of studying other peoples cultures and traditions, I have become very inspired to learn about my own. My grandparents came from Greece and so I have decided to end my year by doing a pilgrimage back to the area where we are from and learning about my roots, ancient wheat varieties in Greece, and the state of agriculture there. I have already been in touch with some seed saving groups in greece and hope to find some of my family who is still farming! Yeah Greece! Yeah Peru!

I just got back from an amazing ten days staying with a rural village high in the Andes in Central Peru. I arrived in Ccasapata alone and confused after many days of bus rides. After much confusion, I ended up staying in the office of an NGO who is focused on reducing poverty through biodiversity (Yannapai) and improving farmers livelihood. Like many, they view biodviersity as the key to food security!
A great contact I made with the International Potato Center helped make arrangemnents for me to come to this area because they are known for their extensive potato diversity still being grown. There are over 400 varieties in that area alone. All families I spoke to grew atleast 10 varieties in a mixed field and some grew up to 140 or 200 varieties. The mixed fields or ¨chacros¨are truly stunning and I loved hearing about each variety from the old women and even the children - who knew the taste and use for all this diversity.

My first few days I really struggled with language barriers, being accepted in the community, etc. After a couple days I made my english translator leave because she was complaining so much - shes a city girl and we were lving pretty rough - no shower, no proper toilet, mud everywhere, cold nights, etc. After she left it was actually much better. People in the community got to know me and I had some incredible experiences. I did about 10 interviews, but then gave up saying I was a researcher and began to enjoy much more just walking and talking with people, visiting farms, attending meetings, eating every color of potato imaginable in crowded kitchens, etc.

I helped some people in the office with their research, helped a couple families harvesting potatoes (man am I out of shape) and just enjoyed observing the village life. It was a pretty remote area that it still very rich in traditional culture. People are very proud of their local tradtions - especially their dress and potato diversity. I ate so many different great potatoes - totally different than what we have in the states. The villagers really value the starchyness of the potatoes and complain that modern varieites or varieties grown with chemical fertilizers are very watery (very true!)

It was great just laughing with villagers and asking them all why the potato diversity is important. Once again, I saw that even these poor people value taste a lot in what they grow. The native varieties also resist pest and frost, need less fertilizer, have more flavor, and can be used for a variety of dishes. However, the most common answer was taste. I was asked by a couple people if I thought children would eat the same bland white potato every day? I guess not

Potatoes are an incredibly versatile crop. They can grow at sea level and at these high harsh altitudes! Some fields I visited were above 4,000 meters (over 12,500 feet above sea level). It was a challenge for mew to just walk into or out of these steep fields which have been farmed for millenia. Once again I loved hearing farmers traditional knowledge and seeing how scientists are working on improving it. There were great crop rotation systems and I really enjoyed learning about how they make Chuno - the freeze-dried potatoes. All the farmers had slightly different criteria for how they select potatoes for seed and store them. One farmer told me he slects potatoes with large beautiful gringo eyes like mine. Haha!
They dressed me up in their traditional garb and the last day I attended a large festival which was centered around horse races (pretty cool- but dangerous too).
Soo, each day was a challenge - but overall another great experience that forced me to make many independent decisions and taught me a lot about both seeds and myself!
I saw again how important native crop varieties and diversity is to the survival of farmers in harsh conditions or outside industrial agriculture.
My last day was my favorite as I got to work all day harvesting a mixed field of native potatoes. Every few feet revealed a new beautiful variety. It was like unearthing a new msterpiece the earth painted every few minutes. The kids played with me and helped all day (taking breaks to carry each other in potato sacks and throw dirt at me). The family was so excited to show me potatoes they had got from their ancestoras and tell me about each variety as it was unearthed. One little girl made a pile for me so that I could see the diversity. At the end she told me why she liked each one and which ones her sister didnt like or which ones made her strong or resisted frost.

This is just a quick random summary. I am still digesting all I learned and saw. Will hopefully write more soon. Im currently a bit lonely and sick of travelling but trying to embrace each day.

Me Dressed in traditional garb in a potato field!

2009-04-22T15:22:00.000-07:00

Beautiful CHildren

2009-04-22T15:10:00.003-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Potato Fields - over 4000 Meters ASL

2009-04-22T15:10:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Proud women with their chickens!

2009-04-22T14:57:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Chicken Giveaway

2009-04-22T14:56:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Chicken Giveaway

2009-04-22T14:55:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Chakitaklia

2009-04-22T14:53:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

The ancient Incan tool used for tilling the earth - said to be an incredibly effective tool, especially in steep areas like this where the mountains and shallow fertile soil prevents the use of tractors or animals

A view of the village

2009-04-22T14:50:00.003-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Experiment for Andean Weevil

2009-04-22T14:50:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Helping the NGo I was staying with in their study of Andean Weevil. Very intersting - this is an endemic pest which has only recently become a major problem. Many farmers spray insecticeds 2-3 time s a year to control it. I had no idea until I got here that pesticide posioning is extremely high in the Andes.
The improved varieties are much more susceptible to this pest and while they can yield more - many farmers told me that they need more fertilizer and more herbicide sprays. Some even believe that the outbreak of the Andean Weevil is directly linked to the introduction of modern potato varteties and their associated chemicals. It may not be the whole cause, but is a definite factor

Sorry, I just love old women with Seeds

2009-04-22T14:47:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

I love old women

2009-04-22T14:46:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

A passionate old women in the village who grew over 80 potatoe varieties. She loved feeding me and kept telling me IU need to eat more potatoes! Hers were by far the best potatoes Ive ever had.
She also kept asking me where my eve was. This became a running joke in the village. Everyone that greeted mne would ask, Ädam, donde esta eva?

Beautiful Children

2009-04-22T14:44:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

We must save our Potatoes!

2009-04-22T14:43:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

We must save our Potatoes! They are a gift from our ancestors and we cannot survive without them! These potatoes are our culture and our livelihood!
a rough translation of his hour long speech.

Meeting in Village

2009-04-22T14:42:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Cold River

2009-04-22T14:38:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

The river I tried to bathe in, but damn was it cold and the Peruvian women loved laughing at my white body

Tarwi

2009-04-22T14:37:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Tarwi is a domesticated Lupine which has been grown in the Andes since Incan times or before. It is awesome to see the wild Lupines that these were developed from. This legume is a crucial part of Andean agriculture and all farmers know its value in crop rotation (restoring nitrogen). Tarwi is also incredibly high in Protein (they say higher than meat. I have never seen it outside Peru and it is a really cool plant.
It is said that the Incans and their predescessors in the area domesticated more plant species for agriculture than any other group in the history of the world (over 70 species!). If you are interested, there is a great book called, ¨The Lost Crop of the Incas¨

CHopcca Village Stay

2009-04-22T14:33:00.001-07:00

CHopcca Village Stay
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

My first morning in the village - view out my window

Macchu Picchu Pics

2009-04-22T14:29:00.001-07:00

Macchu Picchu Pics
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Me at Macchu Pichu

2009-04-22T14:28:00.001-07:00

Macchu Picchu Pics
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Damn, all this Quinua and Potatoes has made me strong!

Andean Camels at Macchu Pichu

2009-04-22T14:27:00.001-07:00

Macchu Picchu Pics
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Macchu Picchu Pics

2009-04-22T14:22:00.001-07:00

Macchu Picchu Pics
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Macchu Pichu in the morning

2009-04-22T14:19:00.001-07:00

Salkantay Trek
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Terraces of Macchu Pichu

2009-04-22T14:17:00.001-07:00

Salkantay Trek
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

I loved closing my eyes and imagining what they looked like filled with potatoes, Quinua, corn, oca, ulluco, etc.

Salkantay Trek

2009-04-22T14:01:00.001-07:00

Salkantay Trek
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Arriving at Macchu Pichu early in the morning after a damn hard climb up! Truly magical!

Salkantay Trek

2009-04-22T13:57:00.001-07:00

Salkantay Trek
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

From Glaciers to Jungle!

Jersey boy in the Andes Yo!

2009-04-22T13:52:00.001-07:00

Salkantay Trek
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Salkantay Trek

2009-04-22T13:51:00.001-07:00

Salkantay Trek
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

My second favorite thing in the world behind seeds is mountains (an music)!

Mara - Andean Biodviersity

2009-04-22T13:48:00.001-07:00

Peru -Cusco Area
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

This is a photo of a few of the products which Mara is making in order to promote and protect Andea Biodiversity. They primarily work woith Andean grains - Quinua, Kiwicha (amnaranthus caudatus), and Kanihua. They also work with Andean tubers, fava beans. and corn. On top os their research and product development they also help with government nutrition and school lunch programs. Their is so much potential for these crops!

Moray - Incan Terraces

2009-04-22T13:45:00.001-07:00

Peru -Cusco Area
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

This is an amazing ancient Incan Site. After much research it is believed that these terraces were used as an agricultural experimentation for the Incans. Seeds were brought from around the Andes and were tested and acclimatized here. It is an incredibly intricate building and truly awe-inspiring to see how much work the Incans put into developing their agricultural technology. You can really feel the temperature difference between the top and the bottom and the different sites! There is also a great amount of symbolism and spirituality associated with this site.

9 Month Report!

2009-04-22T13:33:00.000-07:00

Hello all!
Pasted below is my 9 month Watson report. Surprisingly, the Watson staff loved this report.
For those of you who read the manifesto below, this report is similar to that but with a bunch of additions. I was in a rush so much of it was copy and pasted. Hope you all are well! Adam

9 Month Report

It is a calm rainy morning in Cusco, Peru. The coca tea warms my throat and the Andean rain brings a feeling of freshness to the world. Once again, I am amazed that another three months has passed. Time has flown by, but it seems like ages ago when I wrote the last report in a crowded Bangkok restaurant. Since then I have been in Ethiopia, Canada, and Peru following my dream around the world. I left the states only 9 months ago a confused college graduate. My passion in life was certain, but I still struggled to figure out how I fit into this crazy world. Since then I have seen 6 new countries and travelled to many places I never dreamed of. Put plainly, my life has revolved around seeds: their propagation, importance, diversity, power, symbolism, meaning in different cultures, and use. The hope I have found through the seed-saving movement worldwide has been the core of my year and is something I could write for days about. I often feel like I’m overflowing with hope and respect for the power held in a seed.

However, the Watson Fellowship is about so much more than just my research. These 9 months of independent travel have given me a chance to step back and examine what my life is about. I have come to see that we learn the most through challenges. If I had simply stayed with my friends in the USA I would be comfortable and happily settled now. Instead, I have been immensely challenged both emotionally and physically. Giving up practically everything you know and love to travel the world alone is not an easy thing to do. There are times when I felt so alone it seemed as if no one in the world even knew I existed. Oddly, these feelings often came when in a city surrounded by millions of other people. Nights alone in Addis Ababa were tough as I couldn’t eat dinner without having crowds stare, beggars followed me at each turn, and young men tried to sell me anything you could imagine. I was a white face in a sea of black faces, unable to speak the local language.

There were other times I felt so constantly bombarded by people I desperately wanted to just run away and scream at the top of my lungs. There were also nights when I cried myself to sleep after hours of explosive diarrhea and vomiting (I never knew it was possible to do both at the same time!). I have spoken with farmers dying of malaria and felt children pulling on my pants to get just a piece of my bread. Through these challenges and many more I have been pushed to reexamine what my boundaries are. I have become comfortable in my own skin and have learned what it means to feel strongly out of place. Most powerfully, I have come to see the many similarities between peoples and cultures around the world. I now believe John Steinbeck was right when he said that we don’t have our own soul, but just a small piece of the much larger soul of humanity.

My journey has led me to gain a deep respect and appreciation for the human spirit in its many forms. I have shared laughs with chemical salesmen, beggars, elite landowners, scientists, farmers, racists, and everyone in between. I still subconsciously judge people based on the way in which I was raised, but now really enjoy looking past individuals harsh exteriors to see their human spirit shining within. We all are yearning to live a happy life, eat good food, find love, and gain some sort of respect or admiration. Our values and ways of living are defined in very different ways. However, there is a similar thread which links us all together on this crazy rock we call earth. This realization came to me one day in a busy market in Ethiopia. I was forced to sit down and laugh hysterically. All of a sudden, as I stared out at the mob of faces I saw that we were one and the same! I felt the anger of a drunken man inside me as he yelled uncontrollably. I saw myself in the rich businessmen pushing their way through the crowd and I felt the hunger of a desperate beggar deep in my stomach. Colors and defined faces faded away. They were replaced by a blurred mix of love, hate, devotion, dreams, and desires. Since then, I have felt content to stop searching for some huge esoteric meaning to life.

I am beginning to embrace to simple honesty of who I am. Throughout my whole life I have spent insane amounts of energy trying to impress others or define myself in relation to those around me. I was never cool per say, but I was the “compost man”, the “garden manager”, the club president, the environmental activist, etc. I hid my negative qualities and strived for some image of what I thought I should be – something that people would love and respect. Well, this year I have been away from all those who love and respect me. As a result, I have seen that I don’t have to work to impress people, it’s more important to be happy and healthy.

Many of the places I have visited this year have taught me that life is simpler than we have made it. Basic happiness is as much a part of living as any “success” we have been trained to strive for. I have become confident that I will never change the world. An individual can only do a small bit, but through our connections the actions ripple out and affect many others. Perhaps it is more important to live each day to the fullest, be joyous, and give respect to those around you than to work constantly to change the world. Life is fleeting at best and we must enjoy each minute we are given on this wonderful planet. After years of being fed depressing information on globalization and the state of our world, I have now benefited immensely from the globally connected nature of our planet.

The diverse people I have connected with \have shown me what it means to live a good life. We will never go back to some ideal simple existence that may have existed in the past. However, we will continue to grow and adapt (like our local seeds). The universal nature of humanity will shine on as it has for so many generations. In times of need, leaders will step forward and movements will spread. I do not believe humanity is on a course destined for destruction. This is one possibility, but there is another path I see. Communities around the world will unite and develop local solutions to solve our many problems. Once again, food will be seen as essential to culture and life. Authentic diversity will spread and remind us all what it means to be connected to a place. We will harvest the power of the sun, create urban farms, invest in children instead of war, and learn from each other through mutual respect. Yes, this is an ideal dream. Nonetheless, this possibility is just as possible as worldwide destruction is! I am not saying all will be perfect. This year has taught me to be happy with imperfection and to embrace uncertainty. Armies will fight, lovers will come and go, money will be lost, land will be destroyed, and sickness will spread. But, I believe in the end we will recognize the power of food, community, and the basic necessities of life.

The Ethiopian people have shown me that there is no reason to live without hope! I stayed in areas in which farmers had faced two wars, droughts, and famines. However, they still celebrated their coffee ceremonies, danced together, relished good food, and laughed over local liquors. Hope shines in the eyes of Ethiopian farmers who trade seeds and develop new varieties which adapt to their land. It shines in the Thai children as they show me their school gardens, the happy seed sellers in Canada, the resilience of the Dukhobor community in British Columbia, and in the mountain villages that keep our ancient diversity alive. Around the world people are uniting in their awakening that we cannot continue “business as usual.” They are not just sitting back and complaining about all that’s wrong with the world. They are uniting to work for a positive solution that enables us to live a joyous life.

Ethiopia was a month filled with crop diversity, cultural diversity, passionate farmers, skipping with children, some vomiting, and plenty of good laughs with fellow seed savers. I was challenged on many levels, but left the country even more motivated and inspired than when I arrived. Through my travels and many interviews I have seen that diversity in crops is directly linked with health and diversity of human cultures. The crops and their resilient seeds have co-evolved with the cultures and eco-systems of their respective regions. When we lose crop varieties from a region this is not just a biological loss, but a loss of cultural systems, human livelihood, and farmers freedom. We lose not just an inventory of plant materials or genes, but an incredible storehouse of knowledge of how to grow and use the plants. The knowledge comes as a result of generations of men and women experimenting, selecting crops for their diverse needs, building on the knowledge on their forefathers, and passing the skills to their children. Each farming family has diverse criteria they use to determine how to spread their risk, produce enough food on marginal conditions, and satisfy local cultural needs.

Our food today did not just appear in the wild, it exists because of the hard work of so many farmers. Ethiopia is a center of crop diversity for durum wheat, barley, sorghum, coffee, and chickpeas. For years we have taken seeds from these people to develop our modern agriculture. Now, many are fighting to keep the seeds in farmer’s hands. The Ethiopian famers blew me away with their agricultural practices and complex local seed systems. In a country where nearly 90% of the population is farmers, agriculture is the central part of life. The power of farmer’s ancient knowledge can be seen quite evidently in an Ethiopian highland field with its extremely infertile, dry rocky soil that is filled with a diversity of colorful crops. These crops satisfy families nutritional, economic, gastronomic, alcoholic, and spiritual needs. Other tourists I met in Ethiopia could only talk about the extreme poverty and flies on children’s faces. However, the memories that stick out in my mind are of colorful dances, joyous families, and diverse fields. Ethiopia showed me once again how important diversity and seed saving is not just for survival, but also for community sufficiency and the enjoyment of life.

As a whole, the past 3 months were especially educational for me because I experienced so many drastic transitions. Flying straight from Ethiopia to Canada threw my body and emotions upside down. My first night in Vancouver I woke frequently to dreams of dry Ethiopian fields. For days I relished the hot water and flushing toilets, but felt disgusted by the excessive consumption. People fought in Addis Ababa over 5 cent bread while people in Canada dropped 8 dollars on a beer or 25 dollars on a breakfast. How can we explain these extreme differences? Why are some born with so much privilege while others are born with nothing? How can so many of the rich be mean and unhappy while many Ethiopian villagers in mud huts can be so kind and joyous? These questions and my withdrawal from Ethiopian coffee left me sleepless for days. However, I was cheered up my first weekend in BC by Victoria’s Seedy Saturday (nearly 2,000 people in attendance).

Seedy Saturdays began twenty years ago in Vancouver. The idea of the event was to bring together people from various fields to work together for the common goal of conservation of open pollinated seed. There are now over 70 Seedy Saturdays or Sundays in Canada and the idea has even spread to Britain. In my month in Canada I got to attend six Seedy Saturdays. At first I was very confused over how to apply all the lessons I learned this year to North America. However, I was continually inspired by the local food and local seed movement in Western Canada. The concept of food security is taking North America by storm and awareness is spreading to the issue of seeds. At each event I interviewed seed sellers, chatted with gardeners, swapped seeds and shared stories of my travels. Aside from attending these amazing events I lived with a passionate seed saver and gardener who runs “Seeds of Victoria.” She reminded me of the importance of seed diversity for gardeners in North America and taught me how to run a small-scale seed business that benefits the local food system. Other seed sellers like Dan Jason inspired me with their stories of community seed banks and small-scale grain growing. During my last week in Canada I travelled to the Kootenays where I learned about the Russian Dukhobor community and their heritage seeds. I also spoke at two seedy events and people were very inspired.

In my first three weeks in Peru I have gotten tours of the Centro Internacional de Las Papas, visited many markets, tasted potatoes prepared in ways I never dreamed of, frolicked through Quinoa fields, and learned about the massive amount of native crop diversity here in the Andes. Once again, this locally adapted crop diversity is very important for marginal farmers because of their adaptability, pest and disease resistance, consistent yield without expensive inputs, taste, and balanced nutrition. The range of colors and varieties of potatoes in one field is truly astounding. There is beauty, health, and stability in diversity.

The farmers and activists I have met continue to show me that the power is in our hands to make change for the better. Yes, there are challenges. However, there are no excuses as to why we can’t keep our hope alive. The future is ours to grab and I see mine filled with seeds, healthy food, dance parties, friendship, love, and community. I do not need to change the world, I just need to improve the lives of some around me and have fun while doing it.

So many Potatoes!!

2009-04-22T13:16:00.001-07:00

Peru Markets
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Peru Markets

2009-04-22T13:14:00.003-07:00

Peru Markets
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Peru Markets

2009-04-22T13:14:00.001-07:00

Peru Markets
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Oca

2009-04-22T13:12:00.001-07:00

Peru Markets
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Oh how I love learning about new crops I never heard of before!

Peru Markets

2009-04-22T13:10:00.001-07:00

Peru Markets
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Peru Markets

2009-04-22T13:08:00.003-07:00

Peru Markets
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Peru Markets

2009-04-22T13:08:00.001-07:00

Peru Markets
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Peru Markets

2009-04-22T13:07:00.001-07:00

Peru Markets
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Peru Markets

2009-04-22T13:05:00.001-07:00

Peru Markets
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Peru Markets

2009-04-22T13:04:00.003-07:00

Peru Markets
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Peru Markets

2009-04-22T13:04:00.001-07:00

Peru Markets
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Peru Update

2009-04-07T10:00:00.001-07:00

Hello Everybody.
Thanks again for your interest and for reading or looking at my photos. Although I cant check my email too often and dont have time to respond - I love hearing comments from any of you. My email is forbesfarmer@yahoo.com
I have now been away just about 9 months and am currently working on my 9 month report. I will post it here soon.
Below I pasted two journal entries from before. Sorry things are out of order on the blog now, but if you scroll down you can see some photos from Peru and Canada. There are many more on flickr if you want.

All is generally well here. Its been confusing times and Im continually adjusting to new challenges. Sometimes I feel so sick of travelling and frustrated but I usually cheer up the next day by visiting a market, eating a good local meal on the street, searching for some seeds (I have a USDA Import permit now), or visiting farmers. Language is a continuous problem, but I can understand the basics in Spanish. I have also visited with some amazing NGO's, companies or government groups who speak english or slow spanish for me. The native crop diversity here is truly incredible and I have been trying to taste every dish possible from the myried of potatoes, oca, ulluco, quinua, kiwicha, kanihua, tamarillo and many other wacky fruits.
I took a week off "research" (if thats even what you can call it) to trek to Machu Pichu. It was weird being around so many other tourists, but our trek was wonderful and macchu pichu is all its built up to be. The intricate and immense stone work is truly unparalleled. Also, I was blown away by their terraces, irrigation systems, and complex astronomical knowledge. Machu Pichu is truly sacred place and it is mind blowing to imagine how they built this city so perfectly, and how everything was chosen to fit in with the surrounding mountains and sun/ moon cycles. Maybe I will write more about that later.
Tonight I begin two days of buses and then I enter a rural area in the Central Andes where there is an immense amount of potato diversity. Im excited to get back to farms and will have 1 or even 2 translators (haha)!
Hope you all are well.
Love,
Adam

The Manifesto of a Crazy Seed lover

2009-04-07T09:47:00.000-07:00

The Power of Hope- My Manifesto
I am now on a plane heading to Peru. As I sit here calmly watching the world fly by below me I am struck once again by the unbelievable nature of this journey. I left the states only 8 months ago a confused college graduate. My passion in life was certain, but I still struggled to figure out how I fit into this crazy world. Since then I have seen 5 new countries and travelled to many places I never dreamed of. Put plainly, my life has revolved around seeds: their propagation, importance, diversity, power, symbolism, meaning in different cultures, and use. In my blog I have posted about the hope I have found through the seed-saving movement worldwide. This has been the core of my year and is something I could write for months about. I often feel like I’m overflowing with hope and respect for the power held in a seed or a farmer’s connection to the land.

However, the Watson Fellowship has also given me a chance to step back and really examine what my life is about. I have come to see that we learn the most through challenges. If I had simply stayed with my friends in the States I would be comfortable and settled now. Instead, I have been immensely challenged both emotionally and physically. Giving up practically everything you know and love to travel the world alone is not an easy thing to do. There are times when I felt so alone it seemed as if no one in the world even knew I existed. Oddly, these feelings often came when in a city surrounded by millions of other people. Nights alone in Addis Ababa were tough as I couldn’t eat dinner without having crowds stare, beggars followed me at each turn, and young men tried to sell me anything you could imagine. I was a white face in a sea of black faces, unable to speak the local language.
There were other times I felt so constantly bombarded by people I desperately wanted to just run away and scream at the top of my lungs. There were also nights when I cried myself to sleep after hours of explosive diarrhea and vomiting (I never knew it was possible to do both at the same time!). Through these challenges and many more I have been pushed to reexamine what my boundaries are. I have become comfortable in my own skin and have learned what it means to feel strongly out of place (never again will I ignore a confused traveler or immigrant in the states).

Most powerfully, I have come to see the many similarities between peoples and cultures around the world. I now believe John Steinbeck was right when he said that we don’t have our own soul, but just a small piece of the much larger soul of humanity.

My journey has led me to gain a deep respect and appreciation for the human spirit in its many forms. I have shared laughs with chemical salesmen, beggars, elite landowners, racists, and everyone in between. I still judge people based on the way in which I was raised, but now really enjoy looking past individuals harsh exteriors to see their human spirit shining. We all are yearning to live a happy life, eat good food, find love, and gain some sort of respect or admiration. Our values and ways of living are defined in very different ways. However, there is a similar thread which links each one of us together on this crazy rock we call earth. Each one of us has a unique beauty and we share a yearning for some form of “success” or happiness.

This realization came to me one day in a busy market in Ethiopia. I was forced to sit down and laugh hysterically. All of a sudden, as I stared out at the mob of faces I saw that we were one and the same! I felt the anger of a drunken man inside me as he yelled uncontrollably. I saw myself in the rich businessmen pushing their way through. Colors and defined faces faded away. They were replaced by a blurred mix of love, hate, devotion, dreams, and desires. Since then, I have felt content to stop searching for some huge esoteric meaning to life.
I am beginning to embrace to simple honesty of who I am. Throughout my whole life I have spent insane amounts of energy trying to impress others or define myself in relation to those around me. I was never cool per say, but I was the “compost man”, the “garden manager”, the club president, the environmental activist, etc. I hid my negative qualities and strived for some image of what I thought I should be – something that people would love and respect. Well, this year I have been away from all those who love and respect me. I have seen that I don’t have to be perfect, it’s more important to stop lying to myself and others or causing unnecessary stress.

I believe life is simpler than we have made it. Happiness is as much a part of living as any “success” we have been trained to strive for. I have become confident that I will never change the world. An individual can only do a small bit, but through our connections the actions ripple out and affect many others. Perhaps it is more important to live each day to the fullest, be joyous, and give respect to those around you than to work constantly to change the world. Life is fleeting at best and we must enjoy each minute we are given on this wonderful planet. After years of being fed depressing information on globalization and the state of our world, I have now benefited immensely from the globally connected nature of our planet.
The diverse people I have connected with from many countries and backgrounds have shown me what it means to live a good life. We will never go back to some ideal simple existence that may have existed in the past. However, we will continue to grow and adapt. The universal nature of humanity will shine on as it has for so many generations. In times of need, leaders will step forward and movements will spread. I do not believe humanity is on a course destined for destruction. This is one possibility. But, there is another path I see. Communities around the world will unite and develop local solutions to solve our many problems. Once again, food will be seen as essential to culture and life. Authentic diversity will spread and remind us all what it means to be connected to a place. We will harvest the power of the sun, create urban farms, invest in children instead of war, and learn from each other through mutual respect. Yes, this is an ideal dream. Nonetheless, this possibility is just as possible as worldwide destruction is! I am not saying all will be perfect. Armies will fight, lovers will come and go, money will be lost, and sickness will spread. But, I believe in the end we will recognize the power of food, community, and the basic necessities of life.

I am not an environmentalist because I want to “save mother earth”. I am not a passionate farmer because I need to survive peak oil or the economic collapse. I am an environmentalist and a farmer because I see the beauty and positivity found through community, clean air, a connection to the land, shared food, and simple celebration. We need more environmentalists for fight for happiness and the freedom to celebrate or live a healthy life. What we do NOT need is more fear and anger. At times fear helps to motivate us. However, in the end hope and joyous passion achieves more.

The most powerful movements I have seen are based on providing a positive solution without attacking others. They are based on confidence, unity and a dream for a better life. They are based on local solutions, shared knowledge, and creative ingenuity. In Punjab, farmers are committing suicide in the hundreds. Over 3,700 villages face sever water problems. In some villages over 30% of people suffer from cancer as a result of pesticide drift and polluted waters. Nonetheless, all those I spoke with involved with the Keti Virasat Mission there (Farmers Freedom Mission) told me they were confident they would win! These people are faced with an immense amount of challenges and oppression on a scale that is hard to imagine. But they continue to fight because they see the positivity of their work. Farmers ran me through their fields with pride to demonstrate how tasty food grown without chemicals can be. Feasts were cooked and our tears turned to laughter as we digested and discussed the bright future for this region.

In this case and many others I have seen that there is no reason to live without hope! Hope shines in the eyes of Ethiopian farmers who trade seeds and develop new varieties which adapt to their land. It shines in the Thai children as they show me their school gardens and in the mountain villages that keep our ancient diversity alive. Around the world people are uniting in their awakening that we cannot continue “business as usual.” They are not just sitting back and complaining about all that’s wrong with the world. No! They are uniting to work for a positive solution that not only addresses the problems, but also enables us to live a joyous life.

The farmers of this world have shown me that second path is possible and we can choose to take it. The power is in our hands to make change for the better. Yes, there are challenges, but there are no excuses as to why we can’t keep our hope alive AND win. History has shown that most change comes as a result of the dedicated passion of a few. Civil rights activists were called dreamers or crazy, feminists were called extremist bra-burners, and environmentalists have been labeled as wackos or potheads. Nonetheless, change comes when we work together to achieve our supposedly outlandish dreams. The future is ours to grab and I see mine filled with seeds, healthy food, dance parties, friendship, love, and community. I do not need to change the world, I just need to improve the lives of some around me and have fun while doing it. Let’s not fight against something, but instead let us fight for something!

What is it that you want to see? Who doesn’t want to share healthy delicious meals with friends and families?
A bright path exists and I sincerely hope you will join me there!

Update from Peru

2009-03-29T12:40:00.000-07:00

Hello Everybody. Sorry once again that I havent written for so long.
First of all, I posted my photos from Canada and my photos from my first 10 days in Peru on my flickr page. Once again, the links are below. Either one works - the first link just goes to sets and may be easier to scan through and just look at pics you want.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/27641699@N08/sets/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/27641699@N08/
Will write more soon. Im in another weird transtion time and am struggling with language barriers

Me

2009-03-29T11:59:00.000-07:00

Peru Early
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

A triumphant and sunburnt Adam after frolicking through Quinua and Potato Fields

Quinua Field

2009-03-29T11:57:00.000-07:00

Peru Early
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Harvesting Potatoes high above Lake Titicaca

2009-03-29T11:48:00.000-07:00

Peru Early
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Harvesting Potatoes high above Lake Titicaca

2009-03-29T11:42:00.000-07:00

Peru Early
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Potato Seed Bank

2009-03-29T11:32:00.003-07:00

Peru Early
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Potato Diversity

2009-03-29T11:32:00.001-07:00

Peru Early
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Potato Seed Bank

2009-03-29T11:29:00.001-07:00

Peru Early
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

This is the seed bank at CIP for potatoes botanical seeds. They conserve of 4,500 varieties of potatoes. Potatoes have been grom in Peru for 8-10,000 years and are a crucial part of both the Incan Empire and current rural Andean Culture.

Potato Gene Bank in Lima

2009-03-29T11:26:00.001-07:00

Peru Early
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer

Cryo Preservation of Potatoes at CIP

2009-03-29T11:25:00.001-07:00

Peru Early
Originally uploaded by forbesfarmer