If you have to read this post over the course of several says, in chunks, I understand. but i’ll tell you that if you don’t read the whole thing you might miss out on something cool- like a pig slaughter or nostalgia.
To risk quoting Cat Stevens in two of my blog post titles, I reference Wild World here because it has been in my head ever since I heard the Burmese version on the stereo in the restaurant where i got fried rice in Burma during my single hour in the country this past Saturday. Hearing this redeemed the trip as it took over five nauseating hours to drive there, and just as long to get back, all to renew our visas by crossing the border. The other redeeming quality of the Saturday Burma adventure was American pop music I picked up while I was there. Finding out Burma loves Britney and Beyonce was equally disturbing and relieving, at the very least, the alliteration won me over. all in all, it was comforting to return to Thailand after this day of dramamine and fake designer goods.
But, before Burma was a field course I still haven’t written about here. The sustainable food systems course turned into a great academic and personal journey for me. The first week I spent with a host family in Mae Ta, in which there is a growing sustainable agriculture community.
We got to learn from them about how and why they started “insi” farming. Insi is translated to organic in English but is used to mean using no chemicals as well as a way of farming that imitates nature (polyculture-whatsup!). To see that difference in approach and mindset alone was intriguing and inspiring.
The experience of living with a host family in Mae Tae- there were many aspects to it, but one of the most immediate and exciting being- eating every meal made out of food straight from my mae’s (mother’s) sewan (garden/field). The warm sticky rice in the morning is the most comforting and delicious food i’ve possibly ever eaten. By lunch it has cooled, but is still impossibly good. We ate a warm pumpkin in conconut milk dish for dessert one night and I thought of good friends in good fall seasons. I made sure to ask how to make it! oh, and my mae made this roselle tea- a deep red tea made from dried roselle flowers. ooh! i could go on forever.
The transparency of it all was unlike any other week of consumption I’ve had in my life. It was simultaneously really encouraging and discouraging at the same time. Paired with reading omnivore’s dilemma and learning abut the lack of transparency in the american food system (corn!corn!corn!) made Mae Ta seem like paradise!
I must say, I got wonderfully nostalgic wile reading the final section of Omnivore’s Dilemma about the “perfect meal.” I was thrown back to the perfect meals i shared with my friends in the spring as the result of their assignment for class to create their own version of the perfect meal and write about it. I was sent back to the mushroom risotto, the fresh mozzarella (put it on a pizza!), the varied assortment of pick me ups from meijer; the 1338 kitchen lit by candles, the cc house, and chilling in dewaters watching this american life.
The next week we spent at UHDP, an organization that helps upland communities (those living in the mountains, generally ethnic groups who don’t have Thai citizenship and are therefore, often landless). UHDP develops methods and teaches these communities backyard agriculture as well as agroforestry- ways they can manage the minimal land they may have to add to their food or income.
The standout experience of the week at UHDP would have to be the “pig harvest. It was an all day affair. In the morning, we learned about the traditional cultural uses of pigs as well as learned how to clean out their pens and feed them, which we then proceeded to do. We set out on this pig harvest adventure to learn about how it is traditionally done, and to take part in the process, seeing how and where are food comes from., among other things.
That afternoon, i’ll never forget. I helped carry the pig pen to the designated spot. Pi apat, our Paulong instructor, who was well versed in the process he was about to undertake, this time with an additional 15 pairs of american hands to help out. There was a deep silence, deep enough and wide enough for all of us to fit into. We stood there in that silence and anticipated death. and it happened fast, Hish, who held on to one of her (the pig was a female) legs kept saying in those first few minutes that he knew the exact moment she died- went from resisting to no movement at all.
Watching the event struck a chord with me. Having had come to a place where I could understand the value of animals as part of an integrated farming practice, and therefore, as acceptable to eat as part of a sustainable food system, I suppose it was a bit surprising to feel so involuntarily upset at the sight of the act itself. In the moment right after, I felt like I could cry the most relieving and heart broken cry, though I only let myself shed a few tears. I realized that it was this part of me that had largely influenced my original decision to become vegetarian however many years ago, and while not eating meat was a reasonable response to this familiar feeling then, I think it leads me somewhere else now in light of everything else I’ve learned that I don’t want to ignore.
The silence gradually faded over the next hour or so as the animal before us transformed from dead animal to meat. Jokes were made to make people feel more comfortable and people began to vocalized the processing of what had just happened as we helped shave and skin the pig, butcher it, and eventually help cook with it for dinner. The opportunity to be a part of this process, to know exactly how and what and where my food came from is an experience I will forever cherish. Knowing how meat is industrially raised and processed in America (and the way it disconnects us from facts of death) and then taking part in this process, the difference was stark and powerful and a bit overwhelming.
The last few days we traveled to multiple villages that UHDP works with, talking with the villlagers and spending time in their agroforests and such. Some moments stand out from the villages, definitely. Like, the morning we spent in ban Huey Sai Khao, late to the church service because some villagers had us dance with them. Or, my host mom in Ban Dang Nai pulling out her display of merchandise to sell to me and my student homestay partner the morning we left - adding to that odd tension between being accepted into these villages as students learning about agriculture and still feeling/being treated like culture based tourists. I also can’t not mention that the most soothing song I’ve ever heard was played by Pi Jai in the long house in Ban dang Nawk (and i can’t not mention that i don’t remember how it goes). Or the little boy in that same village who rode his bike down the main road without a chain, just him and gravity. When he’d get to the bottom, he’d just walk his bike back to the top of the hill and start again- gah, children are adorable everywhere, I swear.
and here I am, already at the end of my seminar week for the next course- Political Ecology of Forests. Already got my first paper down and everything and saying goodbye to Chiang Mai in two days, again, already, until November 16th-ish. We’ll be staying in Karen villages to learn about their swidden agriculture and relationship to the state and forestry department, among other things. and we’ll be hiking to get from one village to another. I’ll tell you- all of my summer’s hiking lake superior were wonderful but did not prepare me all too well for the mountainous terrain of Northern Thailand. but! here’s to the challenge, here’s to the learning.
It seems that it is harder than i expected to update this blog between expeditions. I’ll keep working at it, but for your info, another way to keep updated on the past and present happenings of me and the ISDSI program (and the way to access the address to which letters can be sent…) can be found here!
