Our first W.W.O.O.F. (Willing Workers on Organic Farms)

11/26/09

he said:

Soooo.....for future reference, when you’re out on a limb doing something new, throwing caution to the wind, completely picking a place you will go by the seat of your pants may not always be the wisest decision. For example, our first W.W.O.O.F. experience. As we drive up the curvy, cragged and beautiful west side of the coromandel peninsula, Summer becomes quite. At first I’m unsure if it’s the roads making her carsick, or something else. Then I realize, it’s nerves. We both have very little clue of what this place we are cruising towards will hold for us and the reality of this is beginning to set in. After some struggle and numerous back tracks we find the long, windy rough dirt road that carries us to our hosts “house”. It’s difficult to convey what happened here without it sounding overly negative so I won’t try to sugar coat it. As we pull up an early 60’s sturdy looking woman comes out of her one level small house. Surrounding it in every direction are all manner of cages and pens. What these cages contain is difficult to ascertain but will soon enough make itself evident. We sit down for a cup of tea and began to chat with our host. She tells us a bit about her family, her deceased husband(s), and then shows us its newest member. She returns from her bedroom with a baby possum stuffed down her sweater! Apparently our host fancies herself an animal rescuer and so the cages are for the various animals she has acquired over the years. There are many different birds, lizards, guinea pigs, regular pigs, dear, turtles, heaps of cats and yes, possum’s. Although she only has one that sleeps in bed with her, there are several that are living in her cabinets and the cage in the backyard. For those who are unfamiliar with an opossum, they are indeed quite cute. (see pics) But also creepy. You may have at some point, poisoned, shot or run over one, but I doubt you have ever held one or had it crawl on your head and try to clean your ears for you. They also enjoy latching onto your pant legs and attempting to summit you like a possum Mt. Everest. But enough about the possums. To our first working experience. After the fairly mundane and boring first day of shoveling, digging and building a retaining wall, the second day we were greeted with the task of mustering the sheep to prepare them for shearing. Now most times, a farmer will do this with multiple people, some sort of non-foot conveyance (horse, 4-wheeler, etc...)but for our first mustering experience, we are fortunate enough to get to do it with only the two of us and on our feet. This is most likely because there are only nine of them. Simple right? Wrong. After 45 minutes of huffing and puffing up grassy mountain sides and sprinting to chase sheep in the desired direction, we succeed in chasing them to the appropriate pen. Only to discover that one of the gates has been left open and the sheep (as sheep will do), blast through it to the exact same spot they started in!
Well, in another 30 minutes we will able to chase all but two into the pen we had created for them. So our host instructed us that we could spend the rest of our days work “chasing” the other two. Seems easier to catch two then 9 but alas, this too proved harder then it would first appear. This could be because we were chasing them through neck high bush of pine tree like shrub packed so tightly that you can hardly see through it let alone chase sheep through it. But after three hours of no luck, we gave in. And as we did this, guess who showed up? The two sheep we had been hunting for! This time, our determination was at maximum. These sheep were going to be mustered. We chased them into the pen where there was no escape. Perfect! We’ve got them...nope. As I tried to get them to run to the pen we had created, one bolted through a fence. Oh well, he had decided to make himself a future dinner. But the other one, was mine. We squared off. I had enough and so had he. The ram and I, now only feet apart started each other in the eye. (Or I stared at it and it bahhed at me). As I tried to encourage it (with my foot) to turn around, it would not budge. It would head-butt my foot and then charge at me. Only for me to grab it by the wool, spin it around and the game would start again. After what seemed like 20 minutes of this, our host shouted down to me from the house “Just jump on it, and I’ll drive down and help”. So that’s what I did. I plopped myself on top of the sheep and together we hoisted the now playing dead Ram into the back of the truck. Phew!
After they were all mustered (including four mean, hairy, spitting Alpaca), we started in on shearing them. For the most part this was done by our host. But as tough as she was, a sixty year-old body can only take so much abuse and by the second Alpaca, she was losing steam. Being the strapping young man I am, I said “I’ll help out! I’ll grab the body and you take the head”. I didn’t have the body. As soon as I grabbed the Alpaca, it began to buck and kick with me attached. I tried to hold on until it threw me into a metal wall. So I let go...the first thing our host said after I picked myself up was “I thought you said you had the body?” Oh well....
So that was it. After three days, no running water, a broken toilet, no power and no ability to shower, we had enough. We set off to another spot. Sometimes you have to cut your losses. And though it was short, there were great aspects of it. Our host was very interesting, sweet and a true do-it-yourself person. But creature comforts (or lack thereof), outweighed the gains and so we had to move on. Something tells me that although we will have many interesting experiences in the future, none will quite compare with the first.she said:

I will begin this blog with a disclaimer: I am not a sheep herder, farmer, rancher, or really even a gardener, oh, did I say I am not a sheep herder! WWOOFing (Willing Workers of Organic Farming): Our plan and mode of traveling through NZ by volunteering at various farms, immersing ourselves in the country, with families of NZ and hopefully learning something along the way. Our first WWOOF was in the Coromandel Peninsula of the North Island. With little information and unknown expectations we drove up the rocky, curvy coastline of the Peninsula to a dirt road that took us high in the hills of our first “farm.” As we crept towards a house in shambles surrounded by cages and animals Jesse and I both exclaimed, “this can’t be it!” But to no avail it was, as a well-built, self assured woman answered the door and welcomed us to her home. Her home and our accommodations were rustic to say it nicely but the allure of the unknown or perhaps the shock of our surroundings tempted us to stay. “We are here for new experiences, right,” we reminded ourselves as we worked for the next few hours of building retaining walls, placing gates, shoveling dirt and clearing out her shed for preparation for shearing the sheep and alpacas the next day. When the work was over we were welcomed into her cozy house for a wholesome dinner of fresh veggies (picked from her garden), homemade hearty bread, and corn beef. As delightful as this dinner was, the real delight was really learning more about our host. She is a remarkable woman. A no-nonsense woman in her 60’s with a crackling laugh heard for miles, work hands of a man, and luster for life that is inspirational. She is a jack of all trades; a rancher, a farmer, an animal lover and rescuer, a gardener, an amazing cook, a knitter, a cheese maker, a bread maker, a contractor, a mother, a grandmother and a possum fanatic! For 20 some years this woman ran her ranch (now more of an animal rescue farm) with her own two hands building her home, garden, farm from the ground up. Choosing to live a completely self-sufficient, sustainable lifestyle; no electricity, everything solar-powered, no running hot water, all meat and produce cultivated from her land, and use of a generator only when absolutely necessary. A lifestyle that is admirable but one that I am not obviously accustomed to!
I tossed and turned in bed that night, uncomfortable, overwhelmed, and terrified of a possible possum sneak attack in the middle of the night!!! With little sleep, Jesse and I awoke with trepidation of what the day would hold and lets just say it is forever unforgettable! After our breakfast we were sent off to muster the 9 sheep for shearing. Nine sheep, Jesse and I thought, that shouldn’t be that bad, we can do it, as we crept up the grassy steep hill. We snuck up from behind the sheep and actually beautifully corralled all the sheep to the paddock below in less than 30 minutes. Celebrating and impressed with ourselves we proudly marched down the hill only to watch the sheep one by one escape through an open fence to the next paddock! Our host had forgot about the one open fence and the sheep disappeared. “Well, you have 3 hours left, go get them,” instructed our host as Jesse and I sulked off in despair. Pouting and with thoughts racing in my head, “How can we round up all nine sheep that fled in different directions, we are not sheep dogs, we do not have ATVs, we are just two people, running through thick bush and up steep hills chasing sheep,.... this is impossible.” And it was. Sheep run away from humans. But Jesse and I continued to chase and chase them, planning different approaches, tactics, until we finally mustered 7 sheep right into the shed for shearing. The other two were a bit more difficult! They stuck together in the bush for hours. We left them for a bit and went to help round up the alpacas for shearing. Alpacas are smarter then sheep and easier to convince to move with food but no nicer. They spit, kick, and whine. FUN! With our smooth moves, human gate formations and loud noises the alpacas were in the shed and we were sent off to get the last two sheep! This is were the fun began! Jesse and I once again got the sheep very close to the shed but with no fence to keep them there they escaped running right past me as I dove (or some would say I tripped!) to stop them. I went down, knees first, elbows, to hands to stomach. Scrapped from elbows to knees, shocked, sweaty, dirty, and my host exclaiming, “you have to stay on two feet to catch them,” I quit! But a determined Jesse went after them and almost had both before one squeezed its way through the fence and escaped. The other one Jesse cornered and the two of them went at it head to head, literally! The sheep had had enough and so had Jesse. Timidly kicking at first Jesse kept his distance but the sheep did not back down (they typically do except when angry) and this sheep was pissed! Butting his head at Jesse until our host yelled from the hill, “just sit on him,” and with grace Jesse jumped on his back and held the sheep down. MY HERO!!!:) Our work was done with 8 sheep and 4 alpacas in the shed ready for shearing. The guys arrived to shear and Jesse and I received our first experience of shearing. With a few more falls and wrangling of the alpacas and sheep, all exhausted, we were done for the day! We stayed for two more nights and decided it would be best to get back on the road where we could properly clean ourselves, sleep through the night, and not be targets for baby possums to scurry up our legs! Beside the need for a more comfortable accommodation and a hot shower with pressure, a part of me was sad to leave. Frances was a memorable woman that had so much to teach and give and I am thankful for the memories of our first WWOOF!