Organic Pest Management

Being a farmer (or human, for that matter) means being a part of a greater system of living. The great dance of life goes on, and it is not concerned with your neat rows or your upcoming harvest. If there is anything that life is good at, it is living. And so grass grows among your radishes, dandelions pop up between your onions, and beetles chew away at your cabbage.

Managing undesired organisms is an ongoing struggle for all farmers. Organic farmers especially have to come up with creative and sustainable solutions to these problems. Employing the help of some animal and plant allies often comes in handy. Planting plants that will attract predatory insects (such as wasps that prey on caterpillars and ladybugs that prey on aphids) is one such method.

Here at the farm a traditional pesticide is made using a variety of plants, such as cannabis. The leaves and buds, along with sisnu (nettle), lapsi leaves, chili peppers, and other herbs, are ground up and mixed in cow urine. The mixture is allowed to completely decompose for up to six months. The potent result is then diluted 1:100 parts in water before being applied to crops. This naturally derived pesticide is effective for the majority of harmful bugs found here.

Behold: Cannabis ruderalis

Cannabis (or in Sanskrit: ganja) is grown here to make a natural pesticide

Livestock

The farm is home to many critters. There are two varieties of chickens, one for laying and a bigger variety for meat. Both roam around freely and then are herded back to their respective coops at night. There is also a flock of ducks, who share the pond with the trout.

There are two cows and two bulls. The cows produce the most delicious milk (nothing better than fresh milk and fresh eggs). Two goats also call the place home, both male and being raised for meat.

Most of the work on the farm goes into taking care of the livestock. This mainly consists of going up into the hillside to cut and collect grass to feed the cows. The goats, being much more agile, are simply let loose and do their thing all day on the hill and return on their own. The cow manure is also shoveled daily and brought to the compost.

Haas (ducks)

Matcha (fish) 

Khukhura (chickens)!

Fruits and Veggies

Here is a rundown of the vegetation that’s going on here at the farm. For staples, maize is here in abundance. There are also a few beds of potatoes. In addition, a starchy vegetable called karkaro, which is a root veggie similar to yams.

Karkaro greens are also delicious when cooked down. There are also a few beds of elephant kale, and many varieties of wild greens all used to cook saag (cooked greens). There is also a field of cabbage and radishes which make for great achaar (pickled…. well anything really; I’ve had mango achaar, lemon achaar, melon rind achaar, the list goes on). There are also terraces for tomatoes.

There’s a ton of different herbs and spices growing here too. Most abundant is zhimbu, an herb similar to chives. Also grown is timur, a spice similar to cloves but much stronger (much stronger... I found out the hard way that just a nibble will make your entire mouth go numb). Mint grows wildly pretty much everywhere. Also classics such as garlic and cilantro. Stinging nettle is also everywhere (you get used to the burn) and is used to cook with and to make tea. Besar (turmeric) also makes an appearance.

Fruit trees too! There is a whole bunch of kiwi trees (sadly for me they aren’t quite ready yet…). Orange and lemon trees are scattered about the farm, and lapsi is scattered about the entire subcontinent. Lapsi is a very sour, semi-sweet small fruit with a large pit. It’s great fresh but especially good as achaar.

Zhimbu

Golbedha (tomatoes)!

Trellises of kiwis

Lapsi!

GhaunGhar Photos

The crib

Some of the views

Suntula (oranges)! Not quite ready...

9/18/15

Today I arrived at the first farm! After a quick stop at my Maijhu's house (my Mom's younger sister), I was driven from Kathmandu to nearby Banepa, in the Kavre district. Getting off of the plane was an experience in and of itself; stepping out into the hot, humid air was refreshing after more than twenty four hours of airport AC and artificially pressurized cabins. The constant backdrop of mountains was also familiar. Also the crazy rush of people motorbikes cars cows petrol temples that is Kathmandu city brought back similar feelings. I was here only last summer ('14), visiting family. I saw some briefly today, told them "see ya in a few months" and then took the long and often bumpy ride to Banepa.

The farm I am at is called GaunGhar Organic Farm House, run by Rabindra Man Joshi, a family friend who used to be my Mom's teacher way back when. The farm grows corn, potatoes, cabbage, ad a variety of herbs and spices. There are also 150 chickens, many ducks, a pond for trout, two milk cows, two bulls, and two goats. The farm's specialty is its fruit trees: oranges, kiwis, and lapsi (a familiar South Asian fruit, apparently also called "hog apple").

Internet access is an hour away, so look for updates weekly. Pictures to come soon!

9/17/15

While I am being jettisoned through the air in a giant metal bird let me give a little background...

My destination is Nepal, the country that I and my entire family is from (although I was born in Hannover, Germany, a fact actually pretty unrelated to my life story, so I'll leave it at that). I grew up in Kathmandu for the first few years of my life, coming to the United States when I was four years old. The rest of my life thus far has been balancing Nepali culture with the new Western one I found myself in (read: getting super-duper white-washed). My Nepali gave way to English pretty quickly, until I only had a rudimentary grasp of the language. Let that be whatever metaphor it is. It was only recently that I have been actively trying to get back in touch with and reclaim my culture and identity. Call it a decolonization of my own mind. So anyway, Nepal  is a prime candidate for this "finding home".

Another relatively new thing in my life: my passion for farming! Although this too has surprisingly deep roots. Though I am most definitely a city kid, my Dad's family have all been farmers. I'm talking for generations, stretching back thousands of years probably. In fact in Nepal the name "Dahal" is synonymous with farming (also communism, but that's a different story...) So there are many dimensions of "return" at play.

An update: So far the feeling of homecoming has yet to be found, neither on the American Airlines flight, nor during my layover at the Qatari airport. I thought I felt it briefly, deep into my complimentary cup of wine, staring out at the sun rising over a cloud a thousand feet high, but then the person in front of me leaned their seat all the way back and alas the feeling vanished...

9/16/09

What does "home" mean? There are endless ways to answer that question, from the practical to the mystical to the metaphysical. So many ways to approach it in fact, that framing a journey, or a lifetime, with such a question can be daunting at best, hopeless at worst. Such a journey, or lifetime, would be so filled with intersecting philosophies and crisscrossed trains of thought that the travel itself would be lost. The actual living lost in a tangle of definitions and categories and ideas.

So I'm going to ignore that question, because I don't believe that that is the stuff that life is made up of. The question that I'm going to focus on instead is, what does it mean to find home? This seems like no less of a horrible question, but I like it better because it focuses on a feeling. The feeling of finding home is singular and recognizable. It is a feeling that I have felt before, to varying degrees. The feeling of homecoming is like falling in love or looking at the stars; it is felt in moments, it can be felt many times in a lifetime, and each instance is infinitely magical. I've never once looked up at the stars and not been filled with unending wonder, whether I was seeing a scattering, the entire milky way, or simply Orion's belt. Such is it with coming home.

And so I'll embark on this journey with this feeling in mind. Not necessarily searching for it, for sometimes the searching itself can get in the way (like trying to look at the little squiggles in your vision only to have them flee to your periphery), but being ready if it arises. Whether it arises at the foot of a doorway, the swing of a tool, the look in someone's eyes, the curve of a river. or not at all remains to be seen, and I remain open to the possibilities. As for what "home" actually means, I'll leave that to philosophers and mapmakers. I've got a plane to catch.