I've Eaten One Hundred Feijoas

I really have. Besides that, I've been thinking about how much I like the work here. Sabine and Wolfgang are very much engaged in the larger definition of permaculture - the development of diverse and resilient and balanced systems in all aspects of their lives, not only that of food production. Architecture, energy, community, habitat restoration, waste management, water management, etc. - everything is being addressed, as it inevitably must.

A bit about the buildings and off-the-grid-ness....

Both the studio/barn (where Calder and I are staying) and the main house are timber-framed light earth dwellings. They are both beautifully constructed, with high ceilings, earthen floors and earthen plasters. Oriented north and with substantial eaves, they shade the summer sun and allow the winter sun to warm the common rooms.

Solar runs the electricity and heats the water. There is a gas stovetop, but all baking is done in a wood oven which has a wetback, so when fired up water is being heated as well. Like most households in this area, there is rooftop water catchment. No water is used for toilets, as they are dry composting, with urine (as well as dish and shower water) being shuttled into the greywater system.

Instead of a conventional fridge there is a cold pantry (passively cooled with below-ground air on the south side of the house - remember Southern Hemisphere) that holds all of the grains, legumes, preserved food, butter, eggs, and cheese - things that we Americans tend to unnecessarily refrigerate - and two small insulated drawers in the kitchen that work as coolers, for things that need to be kept at lower temperatures (raw milk, for example).

Having a more direct role in the harnessing of resources most of us take for granted naturally makes for more conscious use of those resources. Part of that awareness is sussing out where it makes sense to use human-scale energy instead of electric (even if it is solar-powered). Here that means hand-cranked grinders for coffee beans and seeds, brooms instead of vacuums, an extremely elegant laundry system (above), line drying, scythes and other hand tools, etc.

I'm thinking constantly of how profound good design can be.

Represent.

Saturday 3/14

We've been getting a sense of the larger community of Kaiwaka (pop. 5000), outside of the ecovillage. Some things that might give an idea of the vibe here:

The magazine rack at the local supermarket, which is really more quickie mart size by American standards, has the typical celebrity fare but is also well stocked with all manner of sustainable agriculture periodicals;

A plant nursery/permaculture education center in town, which is part of a separate ecovillage - and where we dropped off some surplus peaches - seems to be humming along quite nicely;

We sat in on a meeting of about 15 locals who are researching alternative fuels, part of a series of meetings that are following the Transition Town model (strategies for a post-cheap fossil fuel age.)

Good things all.

Sunday 3/15

Several people on the South Island told us not to bother with the North Island - both in relation to the people (not enough real Kiwis) and the landscape (tame in comparison). I guess there are regional rivalries anywhere one goes, but I found it surprising that people would be so blunt about their biases, particularly with strangers.

Being from the much-maligned (and oh-so-beloved) state of New Jersey, I've learned not to pay much attention to such generalizations. Yes, the landscape here might be more subtle than that of the South Island but it is absolutely stunning; and the people, while more international (in this area anyway) are incredibly easy-going and generous.

Curiously, the bias doesn't seem to go both ways. I've heard only good things about the South Island from people up this way.

Yes.

Wednesday 3/11

Here is what I love. Figs, cheese, and bread for dinner. More specifically, figs fresh from the orchard, homemade cheese using milk from the house cow, and homemade bread baked in a wood oven.

We're at Otamatea, a 250-acre ecovillage in Kaiwaka that sits on a peninsula in the Kaipara Harbour, north of Auckland. There are about 15 households here, each with a 5-acre lot. The remaining acreage is held in common, with some being restored to native bush and some in grazing land for stock. It's a pretty diverse community - about half Kiwis and half international. A German couple, Sabine and Wolfgang, are hosting us and they're completely lovely - they know how to balance work and rest and do both joyfully.

Thursday 3/12

Last night we went to a community potluck at the house of another member of Otamatea. The four of us walked there, the bike basket filled with food and Wolfgang's homebrew. Hours later, after feasting and drinking and talking (some recurring themes: the American economy, the frightening role of religion in the States, and Why Don't Republicans Travel?) we walked home pleasantly drunk, the full moon softening the way.

Amberley

We got to Amberley mid-January after dividing our first week between Auckland and Wellington. Amberley is a small town in the Waipara Valley a bit north of Christchurch and one of the driest regions in the country (with a rainfall comparable to Sonoma County, for all you Bay Area kids). That, plus the fact that it's a coastal grape-growing region framed by foothills dried golden from the hot summer, made it feel as though we hadn't travelled very far at all.

For about 4 1/2 weeks, we stayed with Nick and Angela and their 3 kids Ruby (5), Matilda (2), and Flynn (5 mos.) on their 16 acre certified organic property. They're working with permaculture principles and have accomplished a lot in the four years they've been there.

Our work was full and varied and completely satisfying - what you'd expect from a place that has their shit together. Enjoyed beautiful harvests of strawberries and carrots and beets and greens, put in the fall planting (in February! and north-facing! - southern hemisphere reality), wrangled sheep for slaughter and greener pastures, babied the chicks, made compost, preserved food on rainy days, weeded, wandered. Time too for swimming - in the ocean and the river and the dam at the vineyard.

A hard place to leave.

Wharariki Beach.

For the past seven weeks, Calder and I have mostly been farming on the South Island. First with an absolutely beautiful family in Amberley; then with a stoner recluse lady on 95 hectares of mountain property bordering Kahurangi National Park; and until this morning, with a Kiwi/German couple on the coast north of Takaka. Three completely distinct experiences that honed our vision of the types of people and places we want to seek out over the next year.

Today is the inbetween, a lovely place to be.