The Miseducation of

I had expectations. So of course I spent the whole day fighting myself. I will allow that there is something to be gained by not feeling reflected. It forces a different type of introspection. One that happens internally while in the presence of others rather than as a collective shifting. As an introduction to King, we viewed a documentary produced by the History Channel. It was speckled with the likes of Condoleezza Rice  and Bono and I judged it hard-core for that. Judgment is something I’ll work on. I kinda just want love to flow through me like air through a screen door.

Today I was occupied with this question of Kingian Nonviolence as a way of life vs a strategy. When I conceptualized it as the latter I was overwhelmed trying to define which circumstances needed to be present to produce a desirable outcome. I was trapped thinking about how his strategy overwhelmingly relied on the visibility of black suffering. And how this dependence necessitated mainstream media outlets that deemed black suffering worthy of airtime. Since the 60’s however the media, the 5th pillar of our democracy, has been consolidated in the hands of a few elite moguls. Mostly like our democracy itself. The result being...to quote Ye…mainstream media don’t care about black people. Enter social media. It’s true that the internet has had the ability to democratize information. I don’t think anyone predicted the impact it would have on fomenting powerful social movements and shifting the onus of reporting away from reporters. Its ability to give a platform to the suffering themselves has unchained the sufferers from the discretion of corporate media. Similar again, to the conditions in the 60’s, the suffering of black folks is prime time.  Maybe not so much on TV but very much on Facebook Feeds. And in this day and age, the latter space is the one that may matter the most.

I've given myself so much time to reflect on my experience at the Koanga Institute. I think it is a beautiful organization. The vision is so inspiring. I know that going there was the best thing I could have done. Saving seeds, the farmers that sow them, the animals, the plants, the trees the land. And with so much integrity! So much of the talk was backed up by their walk, however flawed it was. It also put a mirror up to my own face and forced me to reflect on who I really am and those values which mean the most to me.

I felt that they were striving for perfection. Perfect food, perfect babies, perfect health, perfect communities and seeds and all these things. I admire that. I really do. The idealism inspires me to strive towards creating that world that I wish to see. But, I don't want to build a utopia because it requires removing contamination. I feel more like a person being up to my chest in the filth that is reality in order that I can meet people where they are. And not just any people. My people. Poor people. The scum of the earth kind of people. White bread eaters and those who drink Pepsi and 40's from a bendy straw kind of people. Somehow, I feel more at home with folks like that. I also found that I am very resistant to indoctrination. Even when it's coming from the good guys. I found that I was always pushing up against and challenging prevailing ideologies about nutrition, ethics, politics etc. I asked too many clarifying questions. I got the sense that people felt I wasn't one of them. I am not. It's my curse and my gift. 

One question I asked was about the organization's soul. Was it more important to save the seeds or save the people. Saving the seeds took the top priority and honestly I think it was at that point that I kinda checked out. I closed up, went to my little dark space and prepared for departure. 

One of the things about alternative communities is that people are seeking refuge, asylum from the rejection they felt from "the mainstream." I didn't give them that. I pushed,their "new paradigm" until I could expose the stress points. I never pushed so far that it broke, but I made it clear that everything has a breaking point. Everything. There are even limits to my own insistence on building an escalator so that those at the bottom won't struggle to make it. There are truths that even I reject. That I am uncomfortable with. Like the very real role of personal responsibility constrained as it may be. But I digress. 

I think though, that the folks at Koanga were seeking the capital T truth. I think they were on the right track but without the serious commitment to people without privilege, I don't know how far that road can take them. I know in my mind of mind and heart of hearts that we can only reach salvation and the great enlightenment through the good we do for others. That lesson was solidified in India. 

So what’s been on my mind? So much. I got so much things to say right now. I’ve been struggling to say the least. Maybe it’s internal. I’m struggling to find what has been going on with myself. I’m trying to understand the pattern language of my own personality.  There was a wonderful German couple that came for a few weeks and I really enjoyed their time here. I thought they were super cool and I saw a lot of The Milkman and myself in them. When they left, two other people came who had been on the course previously. They’re beautiful high-energy type folks. All of a sudden I have to wake for morning rituals with the group and they’re cooking breakfast. It was at this time that I receded into myself. All of a sudden I lost my kitchen autonomy and my morning space and I kinda just collapsed into the work that I’m doing. I collapsed into my grant writing. It’s funny. I am this person. I have always been this person. I remember the summer camps I used to go to in the third grade. The way I feel now is exactly how I felt back then. It’s how I felt in Australia, it’s how I felt in India and it is how I feel right now. I do not want to be seen. I don’t want to smile. I do not want to talk about this or that with a group of people. I’d like to talk to one person at a time. I’ve also begun taking naps. Which happens periodically at times like these. It is an escapism. I don’t have to put on a performance when I’m sleeping.

I talked it over with The Milkman, who has really been my source of solace. I feel confident enough to write about it because even though I am this person, he has reassured me that I am loved and valued no less whether I’m charismatic and cocky or quiet and reserved. I feel safe. I’m happy to share my alone time with him every day.

For the past two Sundays I have had the privilege of participating in a class taught by our office administrator Tri. She is brilliant! OMG I’m just blown away! She is all about reawakening, remembering and honoring traditional Mario culture, art and knowledge! And she’s great at it. At the first session I learned how to do the preparation work for making my whāriki   This involved learning the history, how to harvest the harekiki, splitting it up into parts, physically improving the texture of the plant material, the process of dying it and drying it.

I loved the way Tri talked about everything. How she used intentionally indigenous words as to bring them back into daily conversation. She had this deep understanding of the material. She would remind us that the different plants had minds of their own and that they would decided what they wanted to be made into. I couldn’t agree with her more.

 The next session after we had prepared our plant material, it was time to weave. And my oh my I was a hot mess! How did people come up with such complex systems? Thank goodness that Tri was such a patient and attentive instructor. She gave me one-on-one at every step until I built the confidence to do stuff on my own(which she then re-did because I messed heaps of things up!) I can now appreciate and understand that people have spent  years in university trying to master this art. Tri has. And she’s being doing this work for over 14 years! There’s nothing simple to weaving. I understand now why indigenous people valued it so much. It’s the kind of thing you dedicate your life to perfecting or at least getting right! Man, it’s really cool to be able to see people in the places where they shine the most! I wish I were in my space! Hell, I wonder where that space is, it sho ain’t weaving!

Tuesday nights from 5:30 to 9 have been dedicated to learning Māori. As y’all know, languages are not my forte. Or so I thought with my Spanish experience. But I am proud to say, that after weeks, I have learned my colors and number and some basic commands! While everyone else sits at the big kids table learning sentences and months, I sit at another table with my own instructor learning the basics. I learn and remember new things every time I come. Who said adult learning had to be boring! I sit there with my colored blocks doing this and that task and I enjoy every game, every song and every word that I learn. The instructors here are so nice and patient and they give you heaps of positive feedback. I thrive on that sort of thing. I even sang a presentation to the class about my colors.

It was really cute. I got lots of kisses. I’m going to miss these guys. I told them that I would come back. I’d like to keep that promise.

This weekend was as the lovely hilarious Maori woman put it was “the bomb”. I guess I’ll call her Bubbles as she was so bubbly. She and Kay have had a long-standing relationship ever since Kay lived in their community for two years before settling in Waiora. We stayed at the maore in a room with pictures of all of the ancestors of that iwi dating back for many generations. We’d gone back to the place where Kay and her family developed some of their fondest memories to collect cutting from fruit trees that they had planted in the area. This was the most magnificent place that I have ever seen, truly, truly. From every location you can see the beautiful Pacific Ocean. The people from our marae came from whalers and fisherman. They are very much sea people. It’s crazy to think that people can live their daily lives in such a beautiful place. They become numb to it. Almost. I think that when I lived in Colorado, I was very aware of how lucky I was every time I glimpsed the Rockies.

The only thing that concerned me was the small bits of the conversation that talked about the health of people in the community. One could interpret the situation as what Weston A. Price would classify as “indigenous degeneration.” They had swapped out their seafood for white bread, white sugar, and brown soda and now their health is paying the price for it. People left and right were dying super early from degenerative diseases, and the way in which it didn't seem like a big deal. "Ah yes, so and so, she died from diabetes last year…" Or, "there aren't many people with grey hair like there used to be." It was disappointing but I didn't feel that the situation was hopeless which was the impression I got from people around me. We spent whole nights laughing and gossiping, singing and telling jokes. A physical body isn't all there is to a culture. They kinda reminded me of black folks. I could tell that they were fighters as many of them were taking to reawaken the native culture that they have lost. But there was resilience in ever corner. There are some things which can never be crushed. Plus, from what I hear, it sounded like most the kids in my generation were going off to college and whatnot. I was hearing a lot of “first in the family” stories and it made me feel proud for them. They reminded me so much of what I love about my own family. I felt so comfortable.  Kay look so happy and carefree! I hadn't seen her like this since I've been here.  I think the Koanga crew had heaps of revelations this weekend.There was much to contemplate and we did gather heaps of cool trees. 

 An egg! An Egg! My chickens layed an egg! I’m super pumped y’all these chickens have been giving me sucks. But I’ve been being really nice to them. Trying to figure out ways to get more worms in the compost they live on. Feeding them lettuce! And finally all of my work payed off. Their combs are livening up, they’re more chill when I visit them. Finally, they were comfy enough to lay me an egg.  Yes, one single egg out of the seven of them but with that egg I am happy.

This weekend was excellent the Koanga Crew and I drove out to Awhi Farm in Turungi. Tim, the combustion expert was teaching a workshop on how to build a rocket stove. We were kinda like his hypemen, his enterouge, his clicque. Haha, it was great. There were some really cool young permies. And we learned and joked about Regina Specktor. It was interesting. We talked about the state of the permaculture movement. The argument presented by our hosts Joanna and Bryan was about the general fragmentation of permaculture coming out of Australia vs that of New Zealand. They felt that our brand of permaculture was more based in people systems and community building, which comes from the strong Maori influence. What they’re doing is particularly cool. They set up a permaculture degree at one of the local polytechs. It is in this way that they’ve been able to make permaculture not only affordable via the state sponsorship but also rigorous. In order to get your permaculture qualification you have to do a project in your own community. They have also been a fan of a model of going to the people and not necessarily people coming to them. It is in this way that they have been able to establish a number of permaculture communities around New Zealand.

 They are very grass roots in their approach and insistence upon building local capacity. Training local folks. It has been in this way that they have been able to make a number of connections, which have taken them quite far. For example they were able to purchase 30 small hard wood houses that used to be used by on site dam workers. Those things are warm as all hell, beautiful and rock solid. And for 60 bucks! The farm rests is owned by a local Maori group and therefore not subject to building codes etc. It works well because they can run natural building course without risk of regulatory hard balling. They have also been able to make an fragment with a local sport club to use their facilities to teach classes as well as for bathing facilities. They’re got it work out pretty nice. When asked about funding they laugh it off. They have a pension! The only thing they’re paying is a phone bill. The lucky bastards. All of the young people gave them the stank face because lord knows, we ain’t getting social security or anything like that. Anyway, they’ve made some meaningful relationships through their works and it is paying off big time. They’re not only living off the bounty of the universe, but also, the relationships they they’ve made along the way. Speaking of relationship I think bathing seems to be quite the team builder.  At some point I ended up half nude in a hot spring with 6 other people. One thing you have to understand about Kiwi’s is that they love bathing with strangers.

The rocketstove workshop was excellent.

Tim is just so knowledgeable and witty. I wish that I could wrap my head around the things he talks about. My brain just cannot rationalize combustion and physics. I’m sure that there are some hard and fast rules. For example Tim talks about the triangle of fire, which consists of heat, fuel and oxygen. The hard and fast rule to fire is that you have to have all of these elements and if one is missing nothing will work. But there are other things where I’m like, man, he’s a genius. I wish I was too. 

We also had some wonderful conversations. A lot of which were about the future of the institute. See there are all these permaculture grandparents like Kay, Bob, Geoff, Joanna and Bryan and the rest who all seem to have beef with each other for this or that reason. Some of it is ego, some ideology. But the young folks much like myself are sitting back and looking at all the bickering as detraction from the broader goals of the so-called movement. And we're all cool. What I noticed was the importance of our convergence. Right away we

were sharing ideas about the pros and cons of perennial veggies.  We were talking about what sort of plant species we needed in our food forest. We were talking about religion and it’s importance in special movements but especially permaculture as a religion. It was wonderful to be around like minded people. When I talk about sprouting beans and soaking grains nobody blinks twice. Either they know or they understand where I’m coming from. It was much cool. And the talent and skills! Though I’m not super amazing at herbs and trees and physics and stuff like that. I think I’m really good at people stuff. I think it’s my special thing. I was also offered a job with the precondition of finding my own funding. I liked Awhi farm and the people but I’d much rather work with Kay.  She’s my favorite and yes, I do choose favorites.

These past few weeks has seen a lot of ups and downs. Tim, our combustion specialist always talks about how people have a tendency to underestimate the time it takes to get things done. This is all too true all to often. The ups and downs of the website is taking its toll on everyone involved. Money is lost, relationships are stressed and our ability to do our work effectively is seriously dampened. At every community meeting I get a little disheartened there is a lot of unhappiness and it’s shocking. I wake up every day happy as all hell. The food is of the highest quality. The chickens are starting to warm up to me. My carbon footprint in null. Tri and I talk about our love of pig meat and butter and then we cook with organic pork and butter. And the best of all, I get to be with my she-hero on a daily! I don’t think it’s enough that the organization has integrity. That people are gainfully employed.  Maybe they miss their home homes. I don’t know. I can’t figure out from where it is coming. Here I feel like I am fulfilling my highest order. Every day I get the honor of working for a cause in which I strongly believe.  I am happy because I am giving myself to others. Maybe it’s because my calling isn’t particularly personalist that I find myself in such a happy state. Whatever the case, people will find their way. 

I just had the best night ever! Some of the Koanga Crew members go to a weekly Maori language course. Today while we were out in the garden planting some Asian brassicas, I was invited to join. I was kinda wishy washy until I was told that there would be cakes. I’m trying to eat right I really am but god, I miss my pastries. Baked goods and tea was a really important and enjoyable part f my life and there is a point were I’d just like a good ole white flour croissant with butter. You know what  I mean. Food is nourishment but it is also happiness. My pastries, my tea, my coffee shop make me happy. So to say the least, she said cake and I said hell yes. I’ll be there.

The next day, I was sad to see the girls go so I went with them. Em and I had a lovely ride to and from Hastings. She is however an enabler. All I know is, chips, fish, chocolate and Snickers bars kept manifesting.  I had no powers to object. I had been craving candy every since Tri my beautiful Maori coworker brought strawberry licorice to the winter solstice festival. And it got it. Basically, we did all the work we could on the website. It wasn't too much but it was nice to be there in a supporting role. It got me thinking about womanhood, motherhood responsibility and work.

  Tonight was a very special night. I spent the day working on the Support Us page of our website. After I gave the chickens their second meal I inquired into if I was really expected to make something for the nights festivities. I wanted to bypass them but I am so happy that I didn’t. I was expected to cook. I decided to make peanut butter. I roasted some peanuts and I wanted to just throw them in the food processer. Then Kay suggested I used the corn grinder. I do have a love of all of Kay’s lovely hand tools but I didn’t think I could pull this one off. It didn’t. We didn’t have any unsaturated oils but we did have heaps of butter, lard, tallow, coconut oil and so fourth. When the peanuts I roasted and put through the corn grinder came out too much like corn meal and not anything like butter, things got desperate. I melted some butter with coconut oil and honey. Scoop by scoop I added the peanut meal to the pot. I figured the heat of the mixture would release some of the unsaturated peanut oils and make it creamy. What kinda happened was a light toasting of the peanut meal and a temporary creaminess. Because I used so much saturated fat and it’s freezing cold here,  after a while the toasty peanut meal kinda did its own thing. It hardened in chunks. People came into the kitchen and were going cray. I was all like, yeah, this is peanut crumble a close cousin of peanut butter. But you know what they say… all peanuts look alike. Hehehe I didn’t say that last part. I actually waited all night for the perfect opportunity to say it and it didn’t happen.

 We had a lovely feast. Tons of veggies and fermented beverages. My cheeks were quite warm. After dinner everyone put the gifts they wrapped on the floor. These gifts were supposed to be things they needed to part with. Other people selected gifts not knowing what they were. When they were selected, the person who bought the gift had to explain why they had given it away. I was like a holistic version of white elephant. I received massage oil. I gave away a pack of cards. Then came dessert! It was totally yum( as kiwis like to say). There was 4 types of homemade ice-cream, bottled peaches, peanut crumble, plum pudding, caramel popcorn. It was excellent. For the first time, I didn’t miss thanksgiving. THIS was thanksgiving.