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Monday, March 7, 2011

Everybody, do the banana.

Random thought on the way home. Its 11am on Monday. I'm returning from the corner kwik-stop with a single banana, the last resident of the natural world in this corner-mart. Amongst its counterpart brake fluid, assorted themed nuts, candy and gum isle, paper plates corner, and chotchky impulse-buy counter, the banana was my only focus.

As I cross the street with my new friend, I think:


Walking next to street traffic cannot be good for the heath of the human body. Inhalants and particulate matter of rubbish, rubber, asphalt, and asphyxiating chemicals–just to name a few!– soaking our skins in sickness and sin. No wonder cancer exists.


I want a family, but not here. Large cities are stifling and focused on the pursuit of largeness. Large buildings, large bank accounts, large egos. A cycle of large consumption. How about just what's necessary? Back to the land. Back to mother earth! We are sorry mother Earth!!! I am sorry Mother Earth.

If we all put our collective minds together like cells in a body, perhaps we can cleanse and be not a cancer to the earth, but an antioxidant.

With that in mind, I smash you banana! Smoothie time.

Monday, January 24, 2011

The Sustainable Vagabond Tales: Application for Life Skills

I'm Adam, 27, locavore, seeking skills to grow my own sustainability. I have a BA in graphic design, and utilize it to weave creative solutions for non-profit and small business (branding, logos, websites, etc.) I'm quick and reliable, strong, Love bicycles and life. I excel in most things I do, and give 115% knowing that I'm working towards my end goal. I'm familiar with many aspects of farm work, interested in learning more, and love alternative building and energy. Looking to learn fishing, woodwork,  *Letter of Recommendation upon request*
There is one character remaining, the blinking cursor patiently waits. My bio on WWOOF: New Zealand. 529 alphanumerics will be enough, and I semi-complain that it's hard to condense my motivations into so few words. I should really practice being more succinct anyway - much has happened since last time, and here I am now. Here you are now :) Thanks for tuning in again, I've been sadly inconsistent.

Julie and Marisol came to Maui! How excellent it was to see good friends and feel the comfort of familiarity. Julie's friend Boonie grew up on the island and was pivotal in good times. She and her boyfriend, Andy, were amazing hosts. Their kids will be adorable - look at em! Andy and I rapped on sustainability ideas and new world farms. He works on a farm up the way from the Greenleaf's. On a crisp Saturday at 430am, they drove us around the island stopping at spots for waterfall pictures and death defying aerial assaults. We saw sunrise, moonrise, and sunset all from the bed of a '97 Ranger that hugged the cliffs of the island. I cut open some rambutans, we tripped on the beach, and ate some Chilean Rice, which we later learned was not Chilean at all, but delicious and hilarious nonetheless. An Eco Zipline Tour, a bum's etching on a 40oz Mickey's, Yurts, hugs, great conversations, laughter, and an adult beverage or two filled the weekend.


The outdoor kitchen at O'O Farms


Back at the farm, a new resident has come onto the property - not a WWOOFer, she's renting a cottage room. Dianne is quite a unique and outspoken character. She's from Canada, training for a world paddling competition (staring at my sandals? That's a paddlin'. Paddlin' the school canoe? Oh, you better believe that's a paddlin'), rearranged the common room into proper feng shui, has a thing for Junior Mints, and says things like, "old people don't know how to have fun."  She's 61.  With such an adventurous spirit, and timing, plus a car, ahem... we've all gotten on quite well. These are firsts for all of us; Maui, unknown destinations, adventure, each other. The dopamine overfloweth of my cup, and Maui timing gifted us to the location of an abandoned pineapple field. So we harvested, and I subsequently sold $40 worth of 'napples at the farmers market. We treated ourselves to Flatbread, a pizza place in Paia that uses a primitive wood fired oven with ingredients from local farms. Really good vibe.

Four transient farm hands, our time as a group was coming to a close, the social dynamic would soon be shifting. Weeks earlier on a Maui crater's edge, seven people and, arguably, hundreds of pounds of pineapple bounded and bottomed-out across a golden spiky horizon. I threw caution to the wind each time, and we all laughed and gelled like clowns every time. Since then, Kendra has gone home to Berkeley and the Canadians jumped islands for Fiji, New Zealand and a camper.

One of the last weekends they were all here, we drove the Kula route around the southern end of the crater. At Laulima, another WWOOFing farm that has a roadside stand, we stopped for snacks. Bicycle powered smoothie blender and banana leaf plates accompanied the most delicious home made chocolate chip brownie. After a home grown-and-roasted cup of coffee, we moseyed on to our destination, Venus Pool. Maui timing met us some locals who pointed out cow pats and a secret beach, and kicked me down a nug and some hash. I had to take a picture of the rugged curving road heading towards the sunset on our way home.

Chance for dance is limited here, but every now and again Maui timing unfolds wonderful opportunity. We'd been planning on going to a dance party at Moana Cafe in Paia for a few days, seeing the flyers around town, and we were excited. I guess I read the date wrong, and we missed it entirely. The party was on a Friday... so Saturday night, with unused anticipatory energy, we were milling about in Paia, looking for something, being goofy. Innocent sidewalk fun. Then, "hey, you guys wanna party?" Uhm, yes. YES! We rolled up Kula to the house party and pulled into a full parking lot, music thumping, lights gleaming, people in sexy costume, full moon coincidentally. After a shabby parking job, the "security" informed us that without a name, we weren't welcome. Dejected, we started driving away. Fuck that - we're gunna crash this party! The plan was haphazard to say the least, which involved a fair amount of sneaking and most likely sharp, pokey plants in a gulch behind the house. As we giggled over the foolproof plan, a car approached, and inquired "is Rachel's party still going on?" Bewm, done. We waltzed through the front doors, brandishing our new found namesake ticket. BEST HOUSE PARTY EVAR. It was a gender bender, people in drag, sexy skin everywhere, a blacklight danceroom, numerous DJ sets, kegs, fire dancing with bonfires, a makeup station, and the night went on. Right time, right place, fully and completely. Maui time.

So the social dynamic has shifted. In this chapter, one character remains. How poetic, I casually muse. Nearly 5 months have passed (the blog has collected digital spiderwebs) since I began this Maui journey, and I've met some very interesting characters. ** author's note: this blog post was started 2 months ago, and i'll update a new post with current events within the next week** Three different groups of WWOOFers have come through the Greenleaf farm, and it looks like three more will be rolling through by the time I leave, somewhere around the end of January. In the interim, it was a godsend to have some personal time without anyone around. A break between intern groups. In the midst of all this coming and going, I look within and find my true self. The roots of foundation.

The new guy arrived last week. Craig is 22. Coming to Maui was the first time he'd been on an airplane. My initial impression of him was sheltered, awkward, and slow on the farm. Judgments are rarely accurate, though he's certainly a quirky individual, and he's getting more self reliant and accustomed to the flow of the land. He eventually warmed up, I opened up to him, and here we are in another social flow. We had quite a jam session with a single ukulele the other night. While waiting for Hot Tub Time Machine to stream online, circumstances came to put the strum of a ukulele in my hand and the fretboard in his. Tempo, beat, rhythm, and percussion were magically delicious, and I realized quirky nuances are what make people interesting. Another character in the Maui chapter.

I've looked back at pictures, blogs, and descriptions of my time here and it seems that I've been painting a rather glossy and romantic picture of farm life. Rainbows in the shower, secret waterfalls, Love, yoga... awesome shit. Let me clear things up. It's not always pretty or enjoyable. I work hard, get dirty and sweaty, resulting in nap time. And I only work four hours a day. When I'm ready to commit to my own land (currently searching and REsearching), it will be a perpetual to-do list, repairs to be made, infrastructure to setup, weeds to be pulled, shit to be shoveled, compost to sift, inclement weather to contend with... more than a full time job. But it will be worth it. I've come to appreciate and respect chores. Chores, yes. I hated chores as a youth. HATED. Hell hath no fury like my scorn for chores. They seemed so meaningless, so unnecessary, and dare I say it, dumb. It got in the way of playtime. But I realize chores are a necessary component of life in general, and more importantly, the routine of life on a farm to keep things operational, smooth, and practiced. Rather than separate it as an intrinsically "bad" thing, I've filed it under the "just life" tab. I like to make games out of it, perhaps a little toke to ease the mind.

Christmas was excellent on the farm with the Greenleafs. An amazing home cooked breakfast and dinner, heart conversations, and good people. I also learned how to juggle and am harnessing this new skill as another one of the assets in my carnival repertoire. 

The next jump is imminent. What will I do after Maui? And then after that? And after that? At some point, some place, I realize, roots will take hold. I don't aspire to be a burned-out, extra crispy beach bum, a lifestyle I'm almost positive my parents are worried about me fulfilling. Perhaps they see my wandering vagabond pursuits as contrary to a successful and healthy future. All standards are irrelevant and antiquated in this generation. NO GODS NO MASTERS. WE MAKE OUR FUTURE. I'm gathering the skills necessary to facilitate sustainability and a homestead. And I really look forward to it. As it stands now, I've branched from a safe and knowable future to the possibilities of the unknown. No career, home, or certain future. My life is being written as I write this. The options are limitless, and it's definitely more work to research each step, but in the end I believe my decisions will carry me further than any standard career choice served cold. I feel like the decisions I've made so far have led me to this point. A place in which I feel truly connected to the larger picture. If I continue to make decisions of a similar caliber, based in Love and sustainability, then I will ultimately be building into a solid and verdant future far from the lowest common denominating standard.

However, occasionally, doubt rises. This is the easy way out. FEAR NOT. The fear that rises from uncertainty is seeded from the conditioned desire to follow the system's standard i.e. job, condo, car payment, utilities, color TV, sports bars, microwaves, and a timeshare on Ventnor Ave... Living in what seems like uncertainty can be unnerving for some. Un-certainty, though? Seems like the economy is uncertain. The standard is uncertain, and splitting at the seams - seems like the options presented are certainly dicey, limited, and resolved to a bare minimum of satisfactory return.

Get out of the city. Know your garden. Learn skills. Be good to each other. This is the next phase. We are in the genesis of a social and cosmic catharsis.

WE ARE THE ONES WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR.

Up next, My final Maui Chapter.