We found it, a real farm.

We finally caught up to our schedule for northern Thailand, and on that schedule we arranged to stay at Aimee Doyers Organic Farm. We arrived after taking a bus from Chiang Rai to Chiang Mai, a bus from Chiang Mai to seven km passed Chiang Dao to the intersection with road 1178 where we then got onto a Sangteuw (pickup truck converted to passenger holding vehicle complete with benches alongside the truck bed, a few guys had to ride on top) to Ban Lo Pahan, got out when we saw a motorcycle shop, walked down the road across the street for about one km until a dirt road, turned left onto the dirt road and then walked for about 700 meters to the house. These were some of the better directions we have had, but they are always further complicated by the Thai-English language barrier. Quick fact, Thai is a language with a set alphabet, not pictorial characters like Japanaese or Chinese. But as the title of the post explains, it is a real farm that grows food and everything. Needless to say we were excited; a feeling temporarily halted by the barking Rottweiler in the driveway. We would learn that Maloi is a kind idiot, truly harmless but a dangerous looking dog.

There are five other WWOOFers here, all French speaking, and they had been working on the seemingly unending project of delivering compost to the rubber and fruit tree groves. The process involves hacking compost out of a rich, layered mound and then shoveling it into rice husk bags. The bags are then brought to the trees. Sometimes we have to carry the 40lb bags if the terrain does not permit use of the cart. You spread the compost around the base of the tree and then wet it. Then you cover it with straw or rice husk, something to help keep in the moisture. The can water can be tricky. The pump that brings water through the hose is not powerful enough to go uphill. The hose is also almost never long enough to reach the trees. We often find ourselves carrying buckets uphill to the trees. I should also mention that the water comes from a pond that is full of pig shit. Not only does the water moisten the compost, it adds additional nutrients for the nutrient poor soils. But it is disgusting as the water, sloshing around in the bucket as you carry it, spills onto your leg and slowly drips into your boot. The smell stays with you no matter how many times you wash your hands. The idea is that the compost is made from material that is indigenous to the area and therefore it possesses microbes that are indigenous to the area and capable of breaking down and fixing nutrients that plants in this area need. It is a place-specific system. This is basically what I have been doing for the past five days. Maybe a new project will come up, but this composting project seems like it is it. It is hard work, the kind of work that makes you proud you accomplished it, work that you want a cold beer after, the kind of work a Thai man would do for 5-6 dollars per day, and not be able to afford a cold beer after.

Wednesday (3-9-11) was Jean-Marcs (a fellow WWOOFer) birthday. Members of the Lisu (a hilltribe in Thailand) community came to celebrate it with us. It began with Christian psalms in Lisu. They sang in perfect two-layered harmony. The whole time children ran around, climbed into and out of laps, and ate watermelon and sour unripe mango. Then individuals stood and prayed for Jean-Marc. After maybe an hour of all this, everyone come together around Jean-Marc, and placing a hand on him, jointly voiced their prayers. People shouted and whispered, their eyes closed, focused that his wishes may be granted by God. It was sincere, their energy powerfully positive as if the ceiling opened to let in a bright, shining light. Then we ate Khao Soi, a delicious noodle dish with yellow curry, coconut milk, pickled cabbage, onions, and chicken. It was a happy experience, a modern Lisu tradition where Christianity has replaced the veneration of spirit gods. After showing some of the Lisu children card tricks that made them giggle and shine with curiosity, they left. And we were left to our routine of waking, spreading compost, resting during the hottest hours, returning to the groves, and then finally sitting as tired individuals who have all shared hard work. A laughable bunch, happy to be sitting.