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#15 Collecting seeds

E phatlaladitšwe: 26.11.2022

Hello, I'm back. What has happened here? Actually very little. The weather change predicted in the weather forecast came on Sunday. You can't imagine how loud the rain is in my yurt. It's not just a few drops, it's raining hard and the wind is strong. I am grateful that the trees around my yurt remain standing, because many of them are simply broken by the force of the wind - luckily not mine. It was supposed to rain all week, and once again the advantage of living on a mountain was evident. While on Tuesday we had our morning meeting outside in beautiful sunshine and pleasant temperatures, you could hear the foghorns from the different harbors. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any information on at what visibility restriction the foghorn must be used, maybe someone with a boating license (Mr. Gaube?) can answer that for me. It's really surreal that the cities below had bad weather all week and we only had it twice.

Other than that, this week was mainly about preparing the sowing for next year. The last beans (I've never seen pink beans before) were harvested and the seeds were collected. It went reasonably well. On Tuesday, I had to collect some other seeds and they were so small that picking each one individually was not effective. So I crushed the pods, put everything in a sieve, and then blew gently so that the light pods would fly away and the heavy seeds would stay in the sieve. I did that for exactly 30 seconds before everything started spinning. You don't need drugs, you just have to breathe in and out intensely and vigorously. There are also certain breathing techniques that can induce a state of euphoria. I got so dizzy that I really thought - oh shit - how am I going to collect all these little seeds now? And then *tada* it occurred to me that there are six thick pipes with a fan installed in the greenhouse. So I took the fan out of the pipe and was able to separate the seeds calmly and without feeling like I was about to pass out. What else was harvested? The last zucchinis, also some monster-sized fruits... I don't know if they are for sale or if they will be used for next year's sowing.

After one crop is harvested, a chicken always comes along and eats the whole row and does its business there before the row is planted again. Such a huge greenhouse is really nice, it is cultivated all year round and who can say that they can harvest cabbage, beans, or zucchinis in November?

But of course, such a greenhouse also has its price and that brings us to Salt Spring. This island is unbelievably expensive, it's amazing. Living on this island is only possible for wealthy people. The most expensive house here is said to cost more than 10 million dollars and can only be reached by helicopter. When I heard this for the first time, I also thought... wow, the person(s) living there must really hate civilization if they live so secluded for so much money, but actually this is not uncommon here, that one's own house can only be reached by boat or helicopter, as there are no roads leading there. But this also means that every single element for building the house had to be flown in by helicopter. It's insane. And I have also seen a few times that the boat is a normal means of transportation to bring home groceries. Instead of getting into a car, you just get into a boat. I'm not entirely sure, but I think they also have a school boat here, in addition to a school bus. It didn't look like they were going on a field trip. I think the children are either taken to houses without roads or to the surrounding islands. Maybe there is still a teaching position available here, because one of the few advantages here is that school is only from Monday to Thursday, because there are not enough children and the school routes are so long.

And how can people afford all this here? The farmer is "fortunate" to have inherited a lot of money from his parents. Even if I were to save every penny I earn in my teaching job until my retirement, I wouldn't come close to the amount of the inheritance, and despite having so much money, they have chosen to live such a resource-poor life. That is really impressive. However, such a farm is also associated with high costs. The farmer has invested several million dollars in the farm. I'll just mention two examples with the photos so that you have a rough idea. I don't want to disclose the exact financial data here.

Food in Canada is particularly expensive, and here the farmer has the sad advantage that every Tuesday he visits various supermarkets and they give him food that is no longer suitable for sale. That already bothered me in Germany when I worked as a cashier, when people came to me and said, there's a bruise on it, can't you give a discount? Just take a knife, cut off the spot, and it's done. And it's similar here. Every Wednesday, when we turn the compost and make space for the food, I just think: WOW! For example, broccoli is imported all the way from Mexico just so that the chickens can almost perfectly eat it and process it into compost. Of course, we cannot consume the huge amounts of food ourselves, so we also only pick out the best from the "bad". But it's really sad to see how much good food is thrown away. Just like that, only because it's not 100% perfect. In what kind of disgustingly wealthy world do we live, where we do this without batting an eye, while in other parts of the planet there is simply an absolute shortage of food? So maybe next time just take a knife and cut off the bad part before throwing it away.

Otherwise, there's not much new here, except that I wasn't feeling well the last two days, but sleep is the best medicine and so I spent a lot of time in my yurt observing the fire and the stars. But since I'm not 100 percent fit, I'll probably have to skip my last sauna here, because my time is slowly coming to an end. I will definitely miss the sauna and the view from my window, although I think the new starry sky could be even more beautiful if I'm lucky. Where exactly am I going? More on that next week.

Until then.

Samuel

P.S. The wood, by the way, lasted exactly five days. This confirms my theory that I need one wheelbarrow per day. Although I start the fire in the afternoon (around 5 p.m.) and it burns/glows until the next morning at 8 a.m.

Karabo

Canada
Dipego tša maeto Canada