Jews are to Farming as Llamas are to Ice Skating Pt. III

After a chance to rest my feet, we went back outside so I could get a tour of some of the facilities and equipment they are building on site to handle our operations. The picture to the left is the beginnings of an office that will house the local management, and was adjacent to several 6-person huts for permanent workers – similar to freshman dormitories, but filled with wood, grass and day laborers instead of cinder block, kegs and crazy girls from Nyack (I digress).

Right now we just bought processing equipment for a few thousand acres, but it was very cool to watch it in action. First, fruit is taken off of our three types of plants, then dried on a big tarp. Once they are dry, the fruits “pop” (meaning they dance very well with one finger extended), and 3 seeds come out. The husk that remains can be put into a biodigester and used to make electricity, and the seeds are then ready (we literally don’t waste a thing – this will help us power the whole nearby village eventually). The seeds are then put into a crusher, which has two byproducts – a sludgy oil, which collects in a pan, and a very dry cake-like substance. The crude oil is refined very easily, and becomes perfectly usable diesel fuel, and the black cake is compressed and made into charcoal briquettes. So, from one plant, you get 5-6 byproducts, plus the honey from the bees and some other side operations, and absolutely nothing is wasted. This will allow the operations to not only be profitable, but completely self sufficient (and good for the environment) soon.

Right now, everyone uses charcoal for cooking, and to get it, they cut down every tree in sight. If we can make charcoal from something that is just a waste product of ours, then we can stop deforestation (while planting at the same time). Obviously an entire nation burning that much charcoal isn't good in the first place, but given the circumstances, this will at least present a massive improvement for the current way of life. Anyway, here's the process in action:

Below is the crusher, with the dry seedcake coming off to the right

Below is one of two mills, which can either be used to grind food (not shown) or process the seedcake into a fine powder for briquettes.

Around this time, I smelled something burning and was wondering what it was. I had put a whole bunch of lotion on that was supposed to have DEET (for bugs) and suntan lotion in it. Well, as it turns out, the 30 on the front of the bottle had nothing to do with SPF, and the lotion was somewhat oily. In other words, I spent about 11 hours in the African sun - and basted myself first. I feel very diverse..my face and neck are currently Native American, my arms are in Hispanic territory, and anything covered by my clothes could be from Vermont.

This would be a good time to point out that if you want to have a good laugh, ask your African hosts for either suntan lotion or aloe.

We did have to head back into the field though. One of my jobs was to measure out a square acre, and do some calculations to help us work on our yield assumptions. Fortunately, rain was on its way, so my skin was spared. If you blow up the picture below and look very closely at both the left and behind George, you can see 3 of the 4 corner people.

As I worked on setting up the experiment, the rain got pretty serious. If the photo below isn’t the most ominous “before” picture (that also has a rainbow in it), I don’t know what is. As a side note, despite leprechauns, gold and everything else in Uganda, they do not also call rainbows Irish. Also, remember that "wait a bit" weed? While walking around, I had two go through my boots. One 9" spike went all the way through my rubber boots, hiking socks, and substantially into my big toe. That did not feel good. I was going to save it as a souveneir but I decided I would rather use the opportunity to learn Swahili curses and throw it away.

We ran back to the house to enjoy the BBQ that was prepared for us. After finishing my goat, I was sitting on the porch to enjoy a night in Africa and reflect on the trip so far. I was thinking about the people I’ve met, their lifestyle and Ugandan culture, and all of a sudden I was interrupted by very loud humming. I walked to the other side of the porch, and one of the workers was humming Disturbia, the Rihanna song. Sitting and looking out at 8,000 acres of untouched land and hearing that in the background was a little odd but very funny.

I decided to take another cold shower to dull the burning, and now I’m going to bed. We are waking up at 5 AM to head back to Kampala tomorrow.
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Jews are to Farming as Llamas are to Ice Skating Pt. II

After a small break for a granola bar, we went back on the farm. This was the view from one part of the property – pretty hard to beat. The reason I had a granola bar for lunch, by the way, is because that is all I eat 90% of the time. I bought two boxes before I got here, and between the constant traveling around and the lack of food quality or options at times, I try to eat those to avoid passing out (and making sure my mom doesn’t yell at me from 4,000 miles away). I haven’t had a single breakfast here, we usually have a very small lunch at around 2:30, then have a huge dinner.

For someone who loves eating as much as I do, this has been somewhat of an issue, but I have tried to pretend I am observing Ramadan and not worry about it. Anyway, back to the farm.

We walked around for a little bit more to watch people clear the fields and do some planting. One of the things I love about Uganda is that they have terrific names for everything. The picture to the left shows a thorn-type weed that was collected, which has very long (4-10”) sharp spikes along it like a vine. They call it the “wait a bit” weed, because when you walk by it, it grabs your clothes and it’s so strong that you stop or fall down, forcing you to wait a bit.

After seeing some more farming, we decided to head into Namalu, which is the town nearby. This was the one with no electricity that we passed on the way in through the mud. Wednesday’s are market day, so there were thousands of people there. It was so odd to see so many people at what seemed like such a small place. They have a population of about 20,000 (Trumbull is about 38,000 by way of comparison). Although the town is probably no more than 5-10 miles away, it takes half an hour with the bad roads and the crops in the way. You wind around all the plots, then basically make a right at a mountain and you’re there. This is the view just before that:

Because it’s not practical to drive 3 hours to M’bale every time we need to fill up on fuel for the farm, often times they will make medium purchases from a guy in Namalu who stores diesel in the back of his shed. The enterprising fuel guy also owns what he called a hotel. After going through a gate, you see the building. Each of those open barred windows is one room, which is all concrete and has a bed in the middle with a mosquito net. Certainly not much but this is hours from anything so if you’re here it seemed like the nicest option.

This is a picture of the market – it was a little sparse when I took the picture but there were thousands of people around when we got there. Also, I was standing on the back of a pickup truck and trying to hold on, so my options were limited.

This is a shot from the way back to the farm – some of the landscape reminds me of Ireland or something..it’s very green. You don’t picture things like this when you think of Africa but there are plants everywhere. Apparently Uganda is considered one of the most fertile countries in the world.


On the way back, we passed over what’s called an Irish bridge (I don’t know what the deal is with naming everything Irish). It is a concrete pass where a small river can flow off to one side, allowing a car to basically drive through the river. There were a few kids playing and swimming off to our left when we drove over it. I have a great video from the truck of a kid doing a slip and slide belly flop that I’ll upload when I can.

Before we got all the way home, we stopped at a local Karamajong village. They grow some of the same plants that we are using, but they grow them at a very small scale, and often just for fences or to sell. Jatropha, one of our best crops, is actually poisonous on the outside, and for most of history has been used for fences and border crops – most people hadn’t realized its oil potential until relatively recently. We ended up buying some straw for brooms, and all the kids wanted to give me a tour so we walked around all the huts. We also saw wild cotton growing which was pretty cool – I picked this off and it felt just like a cotton ball but it had some seeds in it.

We hit a little more “traffic” as we got towards the entrance to the farm.

When were pulling up to the lodge, another truck passed us in the opposite direction. Mohammed, one of the engineers, yelled out from the truck that he had promised me a BBQ, and he was sure to deliver. In the back of the truck was our dinner…a goat. Now, I love goat as much as the next guy (I had already been served it twice), but there’s something a little disconcerting about watching dinner being driven up to the kitchen. Fortunately, I didn’t watch the process by which it went from happy goat to dinner goat, and it was delicious.

Today was a great day, but now that we’re back at the house I’m very tired. This is what my socks look like right now.

Time for a little break.
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Jews are to Farming as Llamas are to Ice Skating

Despite the adventure last night, we made it! As I noted in my interim post-by-blackberry, the day started in ways I’m not exactly used to, but the hearty breakfast to my left took care of that. Today was crop day. The plan was to walk around or through the entire adjacent land (1,800+ acres), see everything that is planted or will be, and then look at all the extra things we have going on (bee hives, construction, a nursery, etc.). It isn’t that hot in the morning, so it was great to walk around. Two soldiers from the Ugandan military that work with us followed us wherever we went. If I stopped to take a picture or write something down, they would both stop too. I attempted to fake step a few times to create a sitcom-like atmosphere, but I stopped when I remembered they had guns and were likely very bored. Here are a few pictures that give a general view of where we walked (click on the 3rd picture to blow it up - the land all the way to the house in the top middle, and the hill behind the tree in the top right is all ours):

Here is the soldier getting my back. As you can see, threats are everywhere.

After sitting for 16 hours on a plane and driving all over the country, I thought I would never be happier to walk. 6 miles through quicksand and mud made me love sitting again. The plant growth was really impressive - everything is growing far ahead of schedule (although I can't tell you how far, or I'd have to kill you). This is what castor seeds look like on the plant, and then once they are ready to harvest - they dry out, then each spiked ball has 3 seeds in it.

The ground is unbelievably fertile, which means that when its wet, you sink. It was like walking 6 miles in sand that is pissed off at you. They asked me to wear gumming boots, which are like galoshes. Here is obligatory embarrassing picture number 1. This is George and I hanging out with some castor.


Because of all the plants we have to fertilize, we have our own bees on site. In addition to helping the crops, they produce a ton of honey - enough for a side business just using and selling that. Like just about everything on this farm, nothing goes to waste. This is one of the hives hanging in a tree temporarily. Some carpenters are building a more permanent site to house them. They chop down each tree by hand, then saw the trees in half with a chainsaw to make perfectly even logs.

In addition to 1,800 acres of company crops, we are beginning to grow food for the workers. As it is now, people drive over 3 hours in a pickup once a week to M'bale and spend a relative fortune on food - this will cut costs tremendously. They had cabbage, tomatoes, spinach, corn, rice and even pumpkin (which was delicious). These crops all surround the nursery, where seeds are put into bags and nursed into seedlings before being planted in the ground.

Me conquering a cabbage for dinner

Jatropha, one of our other crops, is a tree - so we have lots of issues with termites. They are relatively easy to kill, but you don't want to spray too much because chemicals can upset the bees. Here's a nice closeup shot (click to expand if you love termites).


Well, all of this was done by 11:15 AM (we woke up at 4:30 AM). We are taking a little break and then on to the rest of the day!

One interesting note about coming here. When I got to Africa, I went to the hotel. It's very nice and has an incredible view, but it is somewhat Spartan (in the sense that it was plain and basic, not in the sense that it went to war with the God-king Xerxes). However, after driving around Kampala, the hotel seemed like heaven. The lodge at the farm here is even more basic. It's like camping - concrete floors, and I have a twin bed with a matress pad and that's it. There is one spot for running water, and the pipe has two nozzles to turn on - one below to wash your hands and another above for a shower. Both are connected to a pipe outside, which is connected to a bucket. In other words, the freezing water helped me take my first 49 second shower.

Anyway, I certainly didn't care that it was very basic, but it was a "step down" from the hotel that I was now used to. What happens, though, is that after walking around in the fields for 6 hours and being hot and thirsty, nothing seems better than getting inside and taking a cold shower and squatting to wash my hands in that very same house (speaking of squatting, the toilet was...limited).

I've always liked camping and have no problem roughing it (our apartment size could be considered roughing it), but this really made you appreciate the concept of "home," but not in the way I thought it would. Coming to Africa, you read about and expect to see poverty, then think "I am so fortunate, these people have so little" or something along those lines. Although I did see that, that wasn't my lasting impression. What I felt was that when you are happy with what you're doing, and have a place to call home, it's a good feeling to be back there. After a long night on the road, walking, climbing, and lots more - that lodge that seemed so simple before seems like the greatest place on earth. It really makes you appreciate having a place that's your own of any kind.

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