Rambling thoughts on consequences

(Written November 2011)

A few weeks ago, I was home in Ntcheu on a weekend just after my host family had decided that the rainy season had indeed started, and it was time to plant their fields. So I asked to tag along and “help” with planting. (Most of what I do around the house gets quotation marks.)

The garden (more of a field) is about 3km down the road from the house. Other family members live right beside the fields, but the ever-extending family had outgrown this first cluster of houses, and now I stay with a set of grandparents and 4 sets of parents closer to town. Going to the garden always starts very early in the morning, even by Malawian standards. I was told to be ready to go at 5:00am, meaning I had to wake up at 4:30 to be even semi-human and able to make small talk other than caveman speech by 5:00.

Some of you will be happy to hear about how the crops are planted. Four different plants are grown in one plot. Here’s a text diagram (except repeat the middle portion between cassava columns half a dozen times).

 

Vertical           Corn+Beans — Pumpkin — Corn+Beans– Pumpkin — Corn+Beans– Pumpkin         Vertical

Column           Corn+Beans — Pumpkin — Corn+Beans– Pumpkin – Corn+Beans– Pumpkin          Column

Of                  Corn+Beans — Pumpkin — Corn+Beans– Pumpkin  – Corn+Beans– Pumpkin         Of

Cassava         Corn+Beans — Pumpkin — Corn+Beans– Pumpkin  – Corn+Beans– Pumpkin         Cassava

To                   Corn+Beans — Pumpkin — Corn+Beans– Pumpkin  – Corn+Beans– Pumpkin         To

Keep               Corn+Beans — Pumpkin — Corn+Beans– Pumpkin   – Corn+Beans– Pumpkin        Keep

Water             Corn+Beans — Pumpkin — Corn+Beans– Pumpkin  – Corn+Beans– Pumpkin         Water

From              Corn+Beans — Pumpkin — Corn+Beans– Pumpkin  – Corn+Beans– Pumpkin         From

Running        Corn+Beans — Pumpkin — Corn+Beans– Pumpkin  – Corn+Beans– Pumpkin         Running

Off                Corn+Beans — Pumpkin — Corn+Beans– Pumpkin  – Corn+Beans– Pumpkin         Off

Too               Corn+Beans — Pumpkin — Corn+Beans– Pumpkin  – Corn+Beans– Pumpkin         Too

Much            Corn+Beans — Pumpkin — Corn+Beans– Pumpkin  – Corn+Beans– Pumpkin         Much

 

Do you recognize it? The middle portions are sometimes called the “Three Sisters” for their complimentary qualities – corn gives beans a stalk to grow up, beans add nitrogen to the soil, and pumpkin leaves provide groundcover to keep weeds down.

A different field, but it sort of shows the rows and how they hold water. More impressive when it's wrapping around hills and valleys. The corn you see here would now reach past your knees. This was a rainy day in Phalombe when my minibus broke down briefly.

Planting is much easier than hoeing (which I “helped” with in October). I was told to drop 4 corn kernels in shallow holes about 2 feet apart. The grandmother followed behind, dropping in two beans and covering the hole.

While I wandered the rows (make a small hole, count to 4, aim, drop, step. make a small hole, count to 4, aim, drop, step.), my thoughts also started to wander. I was thinking about the other gardening I’ve done, particularly one summer in Fredericton, and how much fun that was partly because it was so experimental and it didn’t really matter if nothing grew. That wasn’t the case here at all – this harvest will literally determine how much food my host family has to eat in the coming year. This isn’t a cash crop, it is sustenance. What if it doesn’t grow? What if I was doing it wrong – if the holes were too deep, or too shallow? The soil too loose or too packed? I started keeping an eye on the grandmother – did she look worried? Was she thinking about how important this harvest would be in a couple months? But she seemed as calm as ever, chatting and kicking at dead grass clumps.

Then I thought about driving. Anytime I am in control of a car, my every move and every decision counts. If I mess up – if I steer too far, if I don’t see a moose walk out, if my foot twitches at the wrong moment – I just might injure or kill someone or myself. That metal box is much less protective than it seems while I cruise almost silently at 100km/hr on a highway with the radio humming and a friend in the next seat. But as much as I know this intellectually, I can’t think like that while driving. I do my best to pay attention and make smart decisions and be careful, but I can’t think about how any other car on the road might smash into me, that a tire might explode, or whether my breaks could give out. I would be paralyzed with worry. Maybe it’s the same with planting what you need to survive. Hold the consequences in the back of your mind, and get on with what you’re doing.