Liberian farming
After sending axes and cutlasses (machetes) to one orphanage's farm for weeks--and still getting requests for more--I decided it was time to see for myself this massive farm that I've tried several times to see but have been unable to reach. I've been told it's big and getting bigger, in preparation for the next planting season.
The road to the farm is a sandy walking trail ("Don' worry! The jeep can make it! No problem!") winding its way through mile after mile of dense rubber and palm and plantain trees. We got there eventually, picking up more and more pedestrians along the way in typical Liberian fashion (five adults in the back seat). We didn't tip over, we didn't get stuck, but instead of reaching a massive clear-cut, we stopped on the trail and walked the rest of the way through the shady jungle. The undergrowth had been slashed to form a sort of path but, after ten minutes of walking and hearing all the ins and outs of Liberian farming (how much a worker charges to clear ~5 acres by hand: about $8.50), we were no closer to the clear-cut I was expecting.
"How far distant 'till we reach the farm, ma?"
"O! Here--this is the area. We will put fire here and plant in March."
"Ah... So where is the rice and cassava area you've already planted?"
"O! No--we haven't planted yet. March."
"Ah... So where are you taking me?"
"The area is BIG -- forty-five acres. You don't want to see?"
"It all looks like this, right?"
"Yes--all clear, like this..."
"Ma, I think I'll come back in March when you put fire here..."
Don't get me wrong--these are great people, and they run a tight ship; they've been farming for many years, and I know they'll do well once they get it going again. Stay tuned for pictures of a 2 million square-foot forest fire!
The road to the farm is a sandy walking trail ("Don' worry! The jeep can make it! No problem!") winding its way through mile after mile of dense rubber and palm and plantain trees. We got there eventually, picking up more and more pedestrians along the way in typical Liberian fashion (five adults in the back seat). We didn't tip over, we didn't get stuck, but instead of reaching a massive clear-cut, we stopped on the trail and walked the rest of the way through the shady jungle. The undergrowth had been slashed to form a sort of path but, after ten minutes of walking and hearing all the ins and outs of Liberian farming (how much a worker charges to clear ~5 acres by hand: about $8.50), we were no closer to the clear-cut I was expecting.
"How far distant 'till we reach the farm, ma?"
"O! Here--this is the area. We will put fire here and plant in March."
"Ah... So where is the rice and cassava area you've already planted?"
"O! No--we haven't planted yet. March."
"Ah... So where are you taking me?"
"The area is BIG -- forty-five acres. You don't want to see?"
"It all looks like this, right?"
"Yes--all clear, like this..."
"Ma, I think I'll come back in March when you put fire here..."
Don't get me wrong--these are great people, and they run a tight ship; they've been farming for many years, and I know they'll do well once they get it going again. Stay tuned for pictures of a 2 million square-foot forest fire!
posted by Andrew at
10:29 AM
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