| Traveling
And Staying Healthy |
| Working
On Organic Farms In Australia And New Zealand |
| by Stephanie Giordano |
| September
2005
When I first
decided to take an extended journey away from home, I knew I would
be faced with the tiresome dilemma of what to do with all my stuff. I quickly
decided that "stuff" was meaningless in the grand scheme of life. But I
didn’t want to give it all up. I wanted to keep my favorite books, my practically
new Swedish foam mattress, and all the things I had collected since college.
I couldn’t afford a storage unit (could barely afford to survive the
6 months I'd be away). When I thought about it though, six months is
nothing. I mean, I wasn't spending seven years in Tibet. |
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| I was just
going on a long vacation. With the problem of funding still looming over
my head, the brilliant idea of compromise allowed me to sell some of
my possessions, and ask friends and family to spare a corner in their basement
to hold my precious valuables for safe keeping. Now I was ready with
the money I earned from my garage sale, and all that I had left from
my dreadful job after paying off school loans.
This trip was
something I'd been planning for years. I had done the drunken hostel
circuit as well as the overpriced fly by the minute bus tour. This
time I wanted to really travel and get to know the country's culture, land,
and people. I had about $2000.00 to last me 6 months which is nearly $10
per day after transportation costs. This didn't bother me as I was not
interested in souvenirs, fancy restaurants, or the like. I found a way
to make it around Australia and New Zealand for the entire 6 months.
I was able to cover more ground and experience more of what the countries
had to offer than most locals. I found WWOOF.
Willing
Workers on Organic Farms is an organization I joined before I left.
It was after months and months of investigation that I decided this would
provide an amazing opportunity to make my way around the world on a limited
budget without any risks. |
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| There are
many different worldwide volunteer and work/exchange programs out there.
Finding the right one just takes some inquisitive research. The way
WWOOF works is simple and makes perfect sense to me, as someone who
wanted to avoid the high cost of friendly hospitality and customer service.
The
truth is, customer service in the USA is unmatched. Expecting the same
quality anywhere else would be a possible set up for disappointment.
My
interest in cultural exchange had nothing to do with any type of service
anyway. I chose where I wanted to go from a book I purchased with hundreds
of entries. Each entry was a family or individual willing to put you
up for an agreed period of time, anywhere from a few days to a few
weeks, and give you three meals a day in exchange for work. I wouldn’t
actually get paid, but considering the cost of a hotel and dinner, weeding
someone’s garden for a few hours sounds like a good deal to me. |
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Offshore
Resources Gallery
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| One strong
incentive is that many of the hosts are happy to guide you to special
interest spots in the area. Because of the nature of the organization,
it's also likely the evenings will find you kicking back with fellow wwoofers
and your host with a home brew and a bottle of wine. People of all ages
from all walks of life find each other.
My genuine
interest in organic food and lifestyle, combined with having an open
mind to other cultures makes the work enjoyable to boot. The work and hours
vary from place to place, but the underlying idea is that there are general
organic principles practiced. I visited a number of places and my experiences
varied from raking leaves for a half hour to leveling rock for 5 (the
latter of the two was short lived). There were cattle stations, chicken
hatcheries commercial organic vegetable and fruit farms, organic cafes,
kayak shops, surf shops, and dairy farms to name a few. I worked with hydroponic
lettuce, with flowers, berries, bees, sheep, mud bricks, some landscaping
and lots of weeds. I met some of the most interesting and fun-loving
people from all over the world. I wasn’t surprised, however, that in
the whole six months I ran into only a handful of Americans. The plus side
of that is I had a chance to negate some nasty stereotypes. Most people…especially
those who travel, know they have to take the good with the bad. |
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| It’s no different
down under. Katherine is a town in the Northern Territory, which
I feel is the hottest and most isolated of the seven states in Australia.
My first wwoof job was there...two hours away from the center of town via
a one-lane dirt road. John, the host, raised his eyebrows when he discovered
I was an American from New York, not a Canadian which he assumed from
my accent. It seems a common view among people from other parts of the
world that all Americans speak with a Southern accent. He was concerned
that being an American from New York, I was not cut out for the job,
a notion I was keen to dismiss. John and Caroline built up their commercial
organic fruit and vegetable farm with the help of wwoofers. Their
lifestyle, like many Aussies was appreciative of the country's resources.
The home was an open air structure running on rain water and solar power.
The long drop toilet was thankfully set apart from the rest of the dwelling. |
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Offshore
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| The shower
had its own tank and hot water system.
There were
seven or so wwoofers already there when I arrived. I set up my tent
down the path to the Edith River. Each night I stumbled to it, scaring
away the wallabies and jumping over the cane toads. Yes, the cane toads
have made it all the way through the Northern Territory. In the 1930’s
they were hastily introduced by scientists, pressured by the government
to find a fast answer to the insects which devoured the crops of sugar
cane every year. The toads were meant to control the cane and frenchie
beetle population, and would've proven successful if not for the fact that
they can't climb the stalks and reproduce in astronomical numbers. And
unfortunately, the poisonous glands on their backs have been fatal and
potentially endangering to many species of birds, snakes, and animals looking
for a meal. So now they flourish. Luckily the butcher birds, possibly amongst
others, developed the knowledge to flip the toads over before killing them,
thus avoiding the glands. Bird brains have evolved!
This wwoof
site was probably the most extreme when it comes to work, weather, and
food. To avoid the midday sun, we were up and ready to work by 6:30, stopped
for smoko (traditionally, a short name for a smoking break), stopped
for lunch, and finished after five hours of actual work time. It was still
winter, the dry season in Australia, with temperatures reaching above 100
degrees every day. After work we all would take a dip in the waterhole
to cool off, trying hard not to think about the salt water crocodile that
feasted on the neighbor's dog last week. They swore to us this stream was
safe and they were probably right, but for most folks in this country,
laid back is the attitude and sarcasm is the humor. So who knows for sure
where the crocs are swimming. The two dogs on the property, Gypsy and
Jezabel had a job too. They chased away the wallabies, rabbits, and
whatever else that got past the fence. It was a special treat if
they caught anything, for us that is. We enjoyed wallaby one night. A few
days later it was our luck when wandering livestock feasted on a crop of
vegetables. Apparently, John's only option was to sacrifice the poor animal.
She might've been the only non-organic thing we ate, but fresh is an understatement.
On days off we camped at Nitmuluk, the campground at the gorge where we
kayaked, hiked around, relaxed, and rendezvous with friends.
Hitchhiking
is still considered reasonably safe in most of Australia and probably
all of New Zealand, as long as you use common sense. The greyhound
bus is another means of transportation if you don't buy a car. Getting
around was never a problem. Between wwoof sites I generally took a day
or so off, booked into hostels and enjoyed the time. Due to complete isolation,
I was forced to save money which then allowed me to splurge a bit on days
off. I spent anywhere from a few days to a few weeks at each place,
making my way around both countries. I was surprised and envious to find
wwoofers
staying for months at a time.
One of the
many stops in New Zealand I made was in Manakau. It’s a small village
on the North Island, an hour north of Wellington. There, Pip welcomed me
into her home on her family run dairy farm. It's a beautiful piece of land
between the rolling hills of the Tararua forest and the short plain which
stretches to the Tasman Sea. She practiced organic permaculture, alternative
medicine, self-sufficiency, and treated victims of chemical poisoning.
Nothing was wasted, from cow tongue to flower petals. The value of what
I learned there is priceless. In my spare time I explored the property,
climbing the rolling hillside, with views of the ocean, and of John and
the dogs herding his sheep. It felt a lot like Frauline Maria meets Little
Bo Peep. The hills were steeply graded and for the most part, cleared for
grazing. I weaved back down on the north side of the property through the
rows of pine trees strategically planted as a retirement fund.
The work there
was pretty laid back. The first few days in the mornings I weeded the gardens.
When that was finished, Pip pointed out certain native ferns. Some
of these were to be extracted from her garden and later planted elsewhere
in an attempt to reforest the countryside with natives. One day was spent
apricot picking, another, helping the milking of the cows. Pip also treated
people suffering from pain and chemical poisoning. I was fortunate enough
to experience a few scenar treatments, where a battery powered devise pointed
at specific areas on my back and shot electromagnetic energy. Afterwards
as part of the treatment, she wrapped me in a copper coated blanket and
laid me down in front of Mr. Bean. It was like one of those ionizing bracelets
around your whole body. After Manakau, I spent a few days in Wellington
re-toxifying my body at the many pubs and clubs. Taking a break from
wwoof usually was an unhealthy binge, but always good times!
Now back
in New York I’m regretting that I didn’t take more time. I brought
home many ideas and a greater understanding of ways to a healthy lifestyle.
More importantly, sharing my experience with others will hopefully encourage
more Americans to travel. This kind of trip will either develop or reinforce
a fertile perspective on life. All that is required is an open mind,
a sense of adventure, and a willingness to get your hands dirty. For more
information about Willing Workers on Organic Farms, go to the international
site www.wwoof.org, which will link
you to specific countries…and happy travels!
For additional
information on wwoof see:
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