Pivot

Here in Damongo, the people do not have the luxury of looking at a plate of food and wondering where it comes from. In most cases they can automatically trace it back to the seed or even the long-ago consumed plant that the seed came from. You see, everyone here is at least a part-time farmer. And when I say everyone, I mean EVERYONE- the priest (even the bishop), the accountant, the shop-keeper, the yellow-yellow (cab) driver, the children and everyone in between. Until now, everyone except this ‘roaming obroni’ (stranger) who wanders around town passing out suckers to children. It was past due time for me to pad my resume!

When the newly appointed Nun/Accountant approached me, the Contractor/Restauranteur/ Writer/Obrani-roamer, because she had found an unused 400 square yard plot of land that needed farming, what choice did I have? The restaurant needs food and also to cut expenses. Producing it ourselves helps to solve both issues. This is Ghana. I am here. It’s the rainy season. That’s all that matters. As it was already getting a little late in the season, I realized it was time to pivot. There wasn’t much time to ponder. It was time to get busy with some learning. To be a farmer. Time to be a Ghanaian.

So, I built a fence around the proposed area to keep my fellow ‘roaming’ creatures from sharing in our proposed bounty and then engaged the help of some willing teen-aged farmers in preparing the ground by plowing it. At this point the real learning was initiated. The Nun/Accountant/Farmer began to instruct me. I truly believe that the people here much prefer working the land to the various western skills their lives have been burdened with. Love, purpose and tradition can never be suppressed for long in any of us. They are like germinating seeds. Her eyes gave it away and we mindfully proceeded to navigate through our cultural and language divide. I learned about replanting shoots of tomato, where to place the ‘okro’- our main crop, which seeds to scatter, which to bury- how deep and how many in each hole. Pumpkin, meringue, red pepper, green pepper, beans and a few that I can’t pronounce and won’t know about until they produce fruit or leaves.

I have also learned to pay greater attention to the rain, no longer just concerned about the large cistern at my house being filled by my gutters, but more importantly, how it affects the welfare of those seedlings meant to feed those who are now ‘my people’ and whether I need to haul water when the universe is sleeping on the job. I was also quickly developing an empathy about how it affects my brother farmers. I’m sure I will learn about weeds- unfortunately, the rain benefits the invited and uninvited equally. I hope I learn much less about pests and blights and way more about harvest and food preparation. But besides my desire, most of these things are largely out of my willing hands. They might even require further changes of direction.

My latest pivot has altered my routine in a very positive way. The garden (farm?) is mine to steward for now and for the foreseeable future. It is close to the office I walk to and checking on it each morning- gaging its growth- has become a new and welcome highlight of my day as I optimistically imagine it’s yield. Through learning, I have diversified my purpose, finding another way to value my neighbor through that most basic shared connection- the earth.