For the last few days I have been at Deepak Sachde’s – a leader in
genuine organic farming farm – farm with Ajit, Buriya and Rohit, a
friend from Udaipur, and it has been a great few days. Deepak’s method
is as much about the philosophy as it is the science, both of which he
explains very clearly, and there is a lot of learning by doing, which
is of course excellent. The idea is to cultivate enough food for a
family of 5 from a quarter of an acre using only 1000 litres of water
a day, and material that you can source from your local environment –
no tractors required. I said before genuine organic farming, my
meaning is this: In the UK, a banana grown organically in Brazil and
shipped to the UK is considered organic, despite the massive
environmental and social (in terms of de-humanised societies of
industry and supermarket culture) costs it involves. If my bread is
made from American grain, cultivated using massive machines that
compact the earth and use vast quantities of oil, before being shipped
to a series of factories for processing and packaging before reaching
the UK, but uses no chemical fertilizers or pesticides, it is still
considered organic. Virtually all organic farming still uses
pesticides, they are just based on natural compounds, and still
fertilises with natural compounds. But these compounds don’t come from
the farm itself, they are brought in from another place, which
therefore must be creating a deficit there, as well as the fuel
expended in shipping it there.
In the West all our food, organic or not, depends on oil. Therefore it
is finite, and not truly organic. Nature is organic, and nature is
infinite. This dependency on oil is massive. In terms of total
calories used to get food, and calories gained in its production, the
ratio for modern farming is 1:2, ie we double that energy we put in
(mainly in fuel). Basically we are eating oil, converted
(intentionally, by the way, by the oil industries) from a form we
can’t digest through an industry known as agribusiness, into one we
can. In natural farming, or Natueco as Deepak calls it, the ratio is
1:100. All the energy comes from the farm and its surroundings, and no
energy other than elbow-grease is required.
In Natueco farming, there is no pesticide; the philosophy being that
every creature has a right to life, irrespective of size – we should
not profit at the suffering of others. It’s funny to think that here
people care about not even disturbing a few beetles, while in the UK
we don’t revolt against the fact that our greed for food and poor
farming practices destroy vast swathes of virgin land, and demand for
the necessities of the food industry, such as oil, has resulted in the
murder of 100s of 1000s of people. It goes on to say that a plant that
gets infected is telling us that we shouldn’t eat it, it is ill, but
in agribusiness we ignore this and we pay the consequences with a
society that has massive chronic health problems. Perhaps rice blight
is good – it restores a natural balance to the system when rice is too
intensely cultivated. Of course, if you are only growing rice then it
is a problem but on Deepak’s quarter acre there are 125 different
varieties of fruit and vegetable. Even if 4 or 5 are infected he
barely notices.
It is immensely pleasurable here; we arrived after a 26 hour bus trip,
dirty, sweaty and tired. I then stepped into Deepak’s farm. I strolled
through the gardens and the dense vegetation, grown in only 18 months,
cooled me down. I wandered through pumpkins, melons, turmeric, lemon
grass and ginger, and tasted the sweetest tomatoes I have every known.
I admired the papaya trees, heavy with fruit, and enjoyed the touch
and the shade of the banana grove, again heavy with fruit. There were
insects everywhere, and a symphony of birds, flowers and smells. Going
beyond the end of his farm, I found it to lead to a vast river (there
is no water shortage problem here), the Nermada River. I went down to
its waterside and took a bath with the buffaloes as the birds swooped
down to drink, the sun set, a temple tinkled its prayers and fishermen
– in punts of all things! – cast their nets. It was possibly one of
the most idyllic scenes I have ever experienced. Every day since being
here I have taken a swim three times a day, washing my clothes in the
river (only with natural soap, of course) and every moment working is
a pleasure, because it all cumulates in wonderful health food. We work
long and hard here, but I don’t really feel tired; the work is joy,
and the food full of energy. This is how farming should be; people
laughing and enjoying together, sharing stories, using only the
material they can manage with their own two hands, and enjoying the
fruits of their labour at the end of the day. I realised that if I
stay in India, this is entirely what my life could revolved around,
while at the same time doing work that I enjoy, with virtually no
dependence on money, free form the corruptions of a commercial world,
and doing work that is good and important (but don’t start worry just
yet, mum and dad!).
Buriya is really inspired, we have been planning how we will layout
his new farm, how we will manage the water and what we will plant, and
how long it will take to develop. We then talked about how we will
share the new techniques with the rest of the village, and set up
systems of providing fruit and vegetables each day to Hunar Ghar from
the diverse ecosystems we will (hopefully!) create! It’s not all going
to happen at once, but we have new inspiration and techniques, and I
will return to Deepak’s farm to continue helping here and learning.
Buriya has a well, so he has access to the volumes of water needed – a
lot of water, but by very low in farming standards, especially given
the output of food. As Buriya’s and other people’s new farms develop,
the water retention of the area will increase and the climate slowly
change for the better, so other people will benefit and will start
being able to introduce too.
Beyond this, Deepak has been really helpful with how to develop
Educate for Life and take it further towards the community based
venture that we envisage it to one day be. I am filled with excitement
for the coming year!