Agriculture @ MindSay 
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So here's what's been going on:
I have a happy, healthy 2 1/2 year old who keeps me busy and entertained. We are doing Kindermusik right now. I'm not a big fan. I've done several of these music classes for babies and toddlers and this is my least favorite one. It could be because it is sponsored by a church and they throw in a few Jesus songs. It could also be that there are about twice as many kids in the class than there should be.
Oh, and we are expecting baby number two in a few weeks!
What else? Well, I am still running my own business. It is going pretty well. The best thing is that I can pretty much work as much or as little as I want.
We joined an organic community supported agriculture (CSA) farm. It is great! I highly recommend it if you can find one in your area. We get a big box of fresh organic vegetables every week. It is fun to see what's in the box and then trying to put together a menu for the week based on the box.
That's all I have time for right now. More later.
--R
"Increased enforcement of immigration laws hit grape growers hard in 2006, said Tom Macinski, of Standing Stone Vineyards in Seneca County. The enforcement crackdown not only eliminated undocumented workers from the labor pool, he said, but also affected legal migrant workers.
They heard rumors about upcoming arrests," Macinski said. "They stayed away out of fear, even though their paperwork was entirely proper. . . . That made getting the grape crop in in 2006 much more difficult and also made it more expensive."
The call for tighter border restrictions and crackdown on illegal immigration comes primarily from conservative Republicans in the West and Southwest. The most notable proponent of tighter enforcement is Rep. Tom Tancredo (R-CO). Tancredo has launched a long-shot bid for the Republican Presidential nomination largely on a need to restrict the flow of illegal immigrants into the United States.
Agricultual workers are rational actors interested in pursuing their own self-interests. Therefore, when the costs of working in the United States (harrasment, arrest, and deportation) exceed the benefits (wages), the labor pool will begin to dry up. This is how the free market works.
In order to counter the labor shortages, there are two available options: reduce the immigration crackdown or increase wages for agricultural workers. If Tancredo and his supporters are serious about reducing illegal immigration, then they should level with the American people about the increased price of food and agricultural commodities that will follow.
I just read this amazing article in the New York Times that states scientists believe that the fig tree was the world's first cultivated fruit crop (full story here). Here's the most interesting section to an athropology student:
But scholars agree with Dr. Bar-Yosef that the beginning of agriculture, whether with the first sweet fig or ripe grain, was pivotal in human cultural evolution.
"Eleven thousand years ago, there was a critical switch in the human mind — from exploiting the earth as it is, to actively changing the environment to suit our needs," Dr. Bar-Yosef said in a statement from Harvard.
"People decided to intervene in nature and supply their own food rather than relying on what was provided by the gods."
The struggle and triumph of human ingenuity is awe inspiring. I love to watch as the particulars of our species' history is filled in with these details. When will we unite as a species to put down our weapons and embrace one another in peace, sharing the remarkable bond of humanity?
I still lack the words to describe my time in Nder and am in a continuous state of awe that I could live in a setting so wholly different from that which I have ever known and feel so completely at home. Simply being present in the village was a treat.
That I adored and continue to adore my family, the Diaw family, should come as no surprise. An only child raised by a single, working mother, I have only known home life of relative solitude (one can only imagine the Diaws’ disbelief upon learning, over the course of my time with them, that I have no brothers or sisters, just one close cousin, live only with my mom and frequently eat alone). Staying in a family compound that was not located along the New England coast and built with explicit purpose of “summering” was an experience that broadened my definition of “family.” Nights, talking with my family by lamplight or lying in my banco hut (having escaped my palatial but lizard/bat/mouse infested room) and listening to the soft breathing of my two little sisters who, for some reason took great joy in sleeping on the floor of the hut, I felt safe. Not the kind of safe I feel by locking my house at night or even by escaping away to my Dad’s farm, but it was a feeling of safety that….I actually honestly don’t know where it came from. No doubt the attention that was lavished upon me had something to do with it, but their adoration never felt contingent upon anything more than my just being, being and smiling and engaging them in whatever ways I could.
Whereas in Yoff, I feel quite toubabish, ironically enough, in Nder I felt like more a person. For the first time, I really felt the strength of one’s humanity, whether my own or others’, as the sole basis for forming a connection between two people. In this regard, Kendall’s relationship with one of the young mothers, Mareme, of my family always amazed me. Marame would speak Wolof and Kendall a mixture of Wolof, French, and English and one got the sense that their friendship was truly one of mutual understanding and respect. I’m afraid of sounding as though I am glorifying these interactions, as they don’t need any glorification. And of course there were plenty occasions where I felt frustrated, misunderstood, or overwhelmed. A little stir craziness every now and then was the only feeling of which I became truly wary. Nder was small and isolated and, at times, suffocating.
Yet, such a setting seemed to be just what I needed at the time. When we came back from our spring break adventures, I went a bit mad in Yoff. To have been fully immersed in Senegal then find myself in a position where frequent contact with “the outside world” was possible boggled my mind. Emails from my mom notified me that college registration forms had arrived, phone calls from my friends reminded me of all the petty matters I was supposed to care about. All were realities I didn’t want to face but couldn’t justifiably avoid all together…unless of course I disappeared into a rural village in the middle of the Sahel. Nder was more than just an escape, however. Those oppressively hot afternoons provided me the opportunity to actually think about what it was I had found so vexing in those days of limbo in Yoff.
Then of course, our work in organic agriculture gave me something on which to focus my energies. In the midst of our activities, there were moments when I was convinced that Nder was a figment of my imagination. Our endeavors were about as grassroots as they get. Between Ronald, Alexa, myself and our Nder counterparts, our collective interest in agriculture and each other transcended countless differences. The workshop attended by Nder’s women’s groups is still quite vivid in my mind. I felt as though I was in a Baptist church in the South as many women were nodding or grunting approval of Ronald’s words. One woman furiously jotted down all that Ronald wrote on the padex taped at the front of the room. But even such outwardly successful days as those gave me reason to grow frustrated—how does one begin to harness such seeming enthusiasm? More often than not, our meetings were sparsely attended and while discussion was always plentiful, forward movement was made to seem nearly impossible. There were days when I looked at our group and wondered, where is N’Deye Samb? With her unwavering commitment to early childhood nutrition, her diligence—rushing off to work four days a week and then painstakingly copying data and creating tables when she comes home? Well, apparently, she was presiding over my family in Nder as well.
After we welcomed the women’s groups into our workshops, only one stayed on, suma yay (my mom), Soda Diaw. She is quite the force and apparently possessed a whole wealth of knowledge about Nder’s agriculture; due to her husband’s death, she, unlike the other women of Nder, had her own fields. Fields which she brought Alexa, Daniel, Ronald, and myself out to see one evening. A couple years ago, she had attempted to grow oranges, mangoes and lemons. She had also been a key participant in the deserted FEM/PNUD/TROPIS organic farming project that had come to Nder via the chief’s son, Modou, just a few years back.
My frustrations were not all aimed at the village, many sprang from my own confusion surrounding the role I should and could play. I had to come to terms with the limited scope of what I could provide. With my lofty idealism, I tend to play down money’s role in the world and its functioning, but in Nder, in speaking to the farmers about the challenges they faced, I often wished I could whip out a stack of bills to be allotted the various costly components of farming. The Peace Corps volunteer we met in Kedegou said of his training that their aim is not to supply people with ideas, but to make a series of strategic suggestions that lead people to come to ideas on their own. For, when one feels that an idea is truly his/her own, it is automatically ascribed a certain importance and held in high regard. I think about his comments frequently, especially in respect to the visit we paid to Gnit’s “organic garden.” Two gardens side by side. One cultivated using organic methods, the other using conventional methods. The conventional garden was larger. The conventional garden had use of the irrigation pump. One man, the one I presume we spoke with, in charge of the project. And though he clearly knew a lot about organic techniques, he made it sound as though the garden’s success was contingent upon continued funding from FEM/PNUD/TROPIS. The 1,000 square meters under organic cultivation were clearly not Gnit’s own.
In terms of the other projects that were underway in Nder, I would have liked to have been more involved. I was especially interested in the highly structured and formulaic workshops held by the nutrition group. But then again, I would not have been able to understand the vast majority of what was taking place because of the whole not speaking Wolof thing. My lack of Wolof often seemed in irreconcilable obstacle in my understanding of Nder and my ability to communicate with others to the extent that I could really be of some assistance. Basically, I wish I spoke Wolof fluently.
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