Kevin
The organic farming cooperative, Unisvert 2 t'Air (based off of an obscure French pun about being close to the environment), has about 12 constant members, with a rotating schedule of anywhere between 2 and 10 WWOOFers. They do everything from running an escargotier, to raising chickens, to managing numerous vegetable gardens, to baking bread once a week for the local market, to maintaining a fruit tree in downtown St. Gery for the nearby town's populace. Nevertheless, for a cooperative, everything is surprisingly independent; most of the members do their one job (at which they rarely allow an apprentice-WWOOFer) and contribute their specific food, and they stay in their spread-out cabins, otherwise. Unfortunately (or fortunately), it meant several hours each day of me, by myself, reading, playing or listening to music. So, while it was certainly a nice break from the busy pace of traveling across the country, and the people there were extraordinarily considerate, I didn't think I could really gain anything from staying there any longer.
Click here to see where the farm is on the map: https://www.google.fr/maps/
One observation I made about the farm was that the people there are exceptionally content living how they do, with internet once a week after a 10km drive to another town and with spending a few hours each day working and several hours each day either sleeping, playing cards, or reading. For me, it was rather intellectually stifling to not constantly expose myself to new ideas and to read the most recent news, and spend so much time on my own, but for them it's just another step in fostering mindfulness.
Also, the people at the farm, even many of the WWOOFers, didn't want to become international musicians, senate majority leaders, or Editors in Chief of The New York Times. They just wanted to live and smile and eat really good food and occasionally go out to see music. Most of them haven't even been to college; they spent a few years after high school backpacking across Europe or Asia or South America and then settled on the farm after realizing that the thing they loved most was centering their lives around food. I'm not sure if I envy that contentedness (or, complacency?), but it was such a pleasant shock to [Chicago] North Shore perception that everyone wants to go to college and get a good job and marry and have kids and die; a lot of people are just playing everything by ear, and they love it.
Also, the people at the farm, even many of the WWOOFers, didn't want to become international musicians, senate majority leaders, or Editors in Chief of The New York Times. They just wanted to live and smile and eat really good food and occasionally go out to see music. Most of them haven't even been to college; they spent a few years after high school backpacking across Europe or Asia or South America and then settled on the farm after realizing that the thing they loved most was centering their lives around food. I'm not sure if I envy that contentedness (or, complacency?), but it was such a pleasant shock to [Chicago] North Shore perception that everyone wants to go to college and get a good job and marry and have kids and die; a lot of people are just playing everything by ear, and they love it.
I'll still miss the two or three late nights of playing guitar by the light of a full moon and a few scented candles with one of the families, but, as Jack Kerouac wrote, "The beauty of things must be that they end." I'll move on, explore, and find equally wonderful--temporary--
Last night, my final night, I was able to join three of the farmers in another farming cooperative about 30km away for a "free jazz" concert of a saxophonist, guitarist, and drummer who could not have POSSIBLY played more loudly for their audience of 20 people (THE WORST MUSIC I'VE EVER HEARD IN MY LIFE. THE SAXOPHONIST KNEW FOUR NOTES AND THEY ALL WERE EITHER INCREDIBLY HIGH OR INCREDIBLY LOW.). After the music, the "concert" turned into more or less a hick party, with no one wearing shoes and everyone drinking a LOT of beer. While the six-hour adventure was a lot of fun, my head definitely hurt a little bit this morning.
Today, upon arriving in Bordeaux, I switched around a few of my train tickets, ate an INCREDIBLE meal at a local restaurant (15 Euro for an appetizer buffet of salmon, ham, egg salad, potatoes au gratin, watermelon, and beets--not having eaten in 15 hours made that appetizer a three-plate endeavor--a main dish of grilled trout, potatoes, and green beans, and a delicious and large creme brulee dessert. I think I'm a master at finding these deals here.). Afterwards, I didn't really feel like walking across town all too much today (The 70km I've walked/ran/biked over the last week has definitely tired me out.), so I returned to the apartment with a hefty doggie bag, grabbed my ukulele and a few coins, and went busking in central Bordeaux! That experience 1) was a lot of fun; 2) made me a lot more confident about performing in front of people; 3) gave me such a greater respect for street performers--it's hard to put yourself in front of people ignorant of any of their judgements, with the exception of a few people who tip; 4) paid for my bread tonight--to go along with the free gourmet pasta (I love my host!)--and covered me for the next time I'll need to use cash. I could see myself doing that again; if I'm going to play music to relax, I might as well get paid for it and make a few people's days better.
I'll be sure to upload photos soon, either today or tomorrow. I slept for about five hours last night, so I'm getting back on a relatively normal schedule.
No comments:
Post a Comment