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     Mr. Chitambi’s enthusiasm was contagious. “If farmers want to make money, please grow rice.” – In particular, Nerica (New Rice for Africa). That was a year ago at the ZARI (Zambian Agriculture Research Institute) Mufulira field day. So I was pretty excited when Mr. Mate asked us to go out to the farm with him on Saturday afternoon to see how his Nerica rice was doing.

Robert discusses production methods with Rosario, Godfrey and Mr. Mate at the edge of their rice field.

     He’s the only one I know around here who got any seed. Nerica is a new rice variety, a cross between the very hardy traditional African dry land rice varieties and the more prolific yielding Asian ones. Nerica  inherited the best of both its parents – it’s tough, drought resistant, and a high yielder. Some call it Africa’s miracle rice. http://www.un.org/ecosocdev/geninfo/afrec/vol17no4/174rice.htm

     The problem is, there isn’t enough seed for everyone. The Zambian government included Nerica Rice in its fertilizer subsidy program last October, but only in the traditional rice growing areas. Hailing from Mongu Mr. Mate had access to a pack. He seeded most of it there, but he brought back a little to grow on the land of his farmer friends Rosario and Godfrey.

Can Nerica - New Rice for Africa - help to diminish poverty and hunger as hoped?

     Dry land rice is grown like wheat.  Wheat isn’t a crop that many small scale farmers have ever grown either though, so this was a trial plot. It was all plowed and planted by hand. It looked a little thin. Robert wondered if the soil had settled enough before seeding. But it could also be the spacing used when seeding by hand. It’s difficult to get accurate coverage.

     Another problem was fertilizing – also done by hand, about a month after seeding. We saw some evidence of burning, and when checking, saw that a small handful of fertilizer ‘kernel’s had been distributed around the plants. Definitely too much, when I think of the spacing on our wheat fields at home in Alberta! So Robert’s experience as a wheat farmer came in handy once again.

     I encouraged Rosario and Godfrey to visit the Mufulira site, and speak to the staff there.

      Rosario is the farmer here (10 hectares, only part under cultivation). Her husband works for British Petroleum. She drives out every morning to supervise the four farm workers. She grew up in a rural area, then became a nurse. Now she’s back to farming. Besides the rice, she has two hectares of bananas under irrigation, a number of Moringa trees that she produces Moringa powder from to sell, and grows onions. At the back of the plot, they’ve planted Eucalyptus trees. These are part of their pension plan. Eucalyptus is sought after for power poles and timber.

     It’s always encouraging to see people profit from information you’ve given them. I’m looking forward to watching this rice field grow. And to seeing Mr. Mate and Rosario become proficient rice farmers!

     Thunk! Without the slightest hesitation the coveted stamp is pounded into our extended work permit booklets and we are officially in Zambia again. It’s a beautiful sunny morning. The air is moist and already warm; the cassia trees sport their first bright yellow spiked blooms. At the exit Murray Sanderson’s long lean frame waits for us; his big smile and hug is a very warm welcome ‘back home’.

Zambia's rainy season is a burst of colour, such as this 'bird of paradise' plant.

     ‘Home’ is a tiny apartment at the end of Max’s house at MEF (Mindolo Ecumenical Foundation which operates a peace building and conflict centre). Max is a German development worker with the city council of Kitwe. Two years ago he was our neighbour in a much smaller house. Now he’s married to Clara, a lovely Zambian woman.
     Clara has malaria, for the first time in years. On my early morning walks I pluck some lemon grass from a hedge and make her tea – two litres a day when sick with malaria. Already I’m using my Anamed seminar knowledge!
     Our first days are spent making our home, and visiting friends. Sister Margaret is the nurse for MEF. I sponsored her to take the Anamed seminar for Natural Medicine in the Tropics, held in Zambia in January. It’s exciting to hear how she’s sharing her new found knowledge with family and friends. We hope to plant a demonstration garden of healing plants on the campus.

Sister Margaret, beside an overgrown Artemisia plant, has plucked some lemon grass for a patient with malaria.

     Vivienne shared a pot of boiled groundnuts with me (fresh peanuts boiled in their shell – delicious). The secretary to the MEF director, 52 years old, she is the competent business woman on Monday to Friday. On Saturday she turns into a farmer, walking two hours along the dirt road to her farm to plant maize, groundnuts, cassava, and other vegetables for the market. She’s an amazing woman. I’ve shared many of the ideas I’ve learned about sustainable small scale farming with her. The last was to use Tithonia (Mexican sunflower) for a natural fertilizer. A rampant ‘weed’ almost everywhere, this plant is very high in nitrogen and breaks down as quickly as commercial fertilizer. I sent Vivienne an email with some information I found on the internet and she’s already tried it out, with good results.
     Tomorrow Pastor Jessy comes with his wife Loveness and Pastor David. This is the team we work with in our farming project in Mpongwe. Last August, 15 leaders took the Foundations for Farming (www.foundationsforfarming.org) training before harvest. We look forward to helping them train their people in sustainable farming methods.
Tito and Mate have been here from Bukuumo Cooperative. This group is still really struggling. We expected them to basically close down last year, but they wanted to try one more year. It seems little has changed. We hope to visit the members this week and hear the different views. Maybe we can find some consensus at the meeting next Saturday.
     So, we’re excited to be back. There are many challenges, but also many good things happening in Africa.

     I wish we’d had a Moringa tree beside our dugout while growing up on the farm in northern Canada. I think Mom would have been the first to crush a couple of seeds for clean water. – Because it’s that easy. (Now, if only Moringa trees grew in northern Canada!)
     Last week Anamed International ran a ‘Natural Medicine in the Tropics’ seminar in Korntal, near Stuttgart, Germany. I’ve been using Anamed’s materials and seeds, particularly Artemisia and Moringa, for several years. The seminar was a great opportunity to deepen my knowledge. Especially the practical part – making ointments and tinctures, and water purification – were very helpful.

HansMartin Hirt watches carefully over the preparation of medicinal oil.

     Anamed is passionate about bringing good health to everyone, but especially to the poor in developing countries. I’ve written before about poor access of many Africans to clinics or doctors. Often it’s a money problem. But there is a wide variety of plants available growing in their back yard, which can prevent and treat many diseases.
     Many illnesses have their origin in impure water. That’s where the Moringa tree comes in. One or two crushed Moringa seeds in a litre of dirty water will bring it to drinking quality. It’s simple – just crush the seeds and add them to the water in your bottle. Wait one hour. Check it out on: http://www.miracletrees.org/moringa_water_purification.html .
     Participants were also shown how to make a simple sand and gravel filter. Adding a layer of charcoal would remove bacteria too. Hans Martin Hirt, Anamed founder and seminar instructor, told us: always use the purest form of water available. But it’s good to know there are options when far from clean water.

A tip-tap water faucet is a great water saving device for washing hands. The soap is handy and protected under the tin can.

     Artemesia tea is awful bitter stuff. But by the third day, the tea actually tasted pretty good. I think it’s an acquired taste, like black coffee or wine. It’s a good thing, because if you want to use Artemisia tea leaves as a malaria cure, you need to drink a cup of the tea four times a day. Many will say Artemisia tea isn’t an effective cure, but Anamed dares to differ and has much research to back it up. Read more about this at: http://www.anamed.net/English_Home/anamed_artemisia_programme/anamed_artemisia_programme.html

Augustina Pauli beats her drum before a poster of tropical healing plants.

     This is just a sampling of all we learned. Augustina Pauli, from Ghana, sat beside me. Coming from the African village, she knows better than all of us what it is like to live with diseases and dirty water. She can’t wait to teach her people what she has learned.
     I don’t want to give the impression Anamed is against conventional medicine. They’re the first to tell you to add a chemical treatment to Artemisia tea if fever persists, or antibiotics for bacterial diarrhoea that doesn’t heal. But many problems CAN be prevented or healed with plants, and it’s this knowledge I’m excited to carry with me as we travel to Zambia tomorrow, February 16.

     At first I wouldn’t believe it – only 40 years since Switzerland allowed women a vote in federal politics! But it’s true. After fighting for over 100 years, Swiss women finally achieved the right to vote on February 7, l971. That’s 133 years after the South Pacific Island of Pitcairn, 53 years after neighbouring Germany and 50 years after Aserbeidschan. I knew Switzerland was conservative, but that bad??

The traditional costumes fit the Swiss woman well, but not the traditional roles.

     The women made a fast comeback. Since last September, they have a majority in the executive government. Switzerland doesn’t have a prime minister – instead seven elected members share the responsibility, in a long standing formula of party membership. Each year a different chairman is elected – and this year it is Micheline Calmy-Rey. A woman!
     I choke at the reasoning given for withholding women the vote. Phrases like, ‘give them the vote and the next thing they’ll want is equal rights. Or, ‘Women belong at the stove’. Men and women were concerned that the family peace and unity would be broken.
     A main concern was that women’s role as mothers would mix poorly with that of politics. Posters at the time depicted a baby fallen out of its cradle, a cat in its place – No to Women’s Vote. Or a young child crying, ‘Mommy, come home!’
     There was good reason to be concerned of course. Traditional roles between men and women made for peace at home, because there was nothing to fight about. He had the say (well, at least in public). I myself grew up under these rigid roles. When I got married in l979 I had no problem moving from Canada to rural Switzerland where my new husband farmed. Although a rebel and definitely not into the notion of obeying my husband just for its own merit, I fought in theory more than in practise. I was comfortable running the household and caring for our two boys. There was much to do on the farm, which I enjoyed.
     Exactly ten years after women got the vote, 1981, I went to the polls in Switzerland and voted ‘yes’ for equal rights for women. My husband voted ‘no’. Some heated discussions preceded the vote in our house, but to Robert’s defence, he accepted my opinions and vote. The bill went through.
     A social worker I spoke with says women still haven’t got equal rights. The German magazine, ‘Der Spiegel’ just made quotas for employing women their main topic. I must say I’ve never been comfortable with that idea. I want to know I’ve been hired on the merit of my abilities, not because they have to because I am a woman. That somehow seems demeaning.
     So the discussion isn’t over. What do you think about this?

     The narrow switchback road winding up the steep Swiss mountainside doesn’t leave much room for error, especially in the winter. How can people safely navigate these roads, let alone farm on these slopes? But they do. My cousin Susanne and her husband Dominik Roth live and ‘ranch’ far up the side of this mountain, in Furna.

Farming high up the Swiss mountainside makes for beautiful views from the house, but farming is definitely challenging!

     I recorded our first visit with them in my blog from June 11/10. We’re back to pick up my 16 year old niece Sarah Lehmann, who’s spent the last six months with the Roth family. Daily she rode the bus on this road, to school in Schiers in the valley below. Sarah comes from the family dairy farm in Cecil Lake, northern B.C. We’ll be taking her to the airport to return home to Canada.

Mowing hay on Sarah's family farm in Canada - No one rakes hay by hand in Cecil Lake, B.C.!

     It’s been a full and adventurous six months for her. At home she helps milk 100 cows in a 16 cow herringbone milk parlour. During the summer she’s often on the tractor raking hay on a flat quarter section (64 hectares). When she arrived in Furna in mid August, the alpine farmers were still haying. Instead of a tractor, she was given a long hand rake. I’m sure it took her a few days to get her mountain legs – she said that sometimes the hay fields were so steep she found it hard to get a grip to stand!

There are many slopes in Furna that are too steep to rake even with alpine tractors. Sarah gets her exercise!

     Not every field is raked down by hand, but there are many corners or steep slopes that keep the family busy together.
     It seemed strange to hear Sarah speaking Bünder German (one of the Swiss dialects). It’s quite different from the dialect I grew up with, or married into. Switzerland is tiny, but we can all tell which area (sometimes even village!) of Switzerland someone comes from by their speech. Sarah didn’t speak any German at all when she arrived, so had quite an adjustment period, especially in school.
     The best thing about the six months in Switzerland, Sarah says, was getting to know the people and the language. She found everyone very friendly and helpful, whether in school or in the community and feels very at home now.
     Her host family has 30 Limousin cow/calf pairs; producing Natura Beef (see one of my last blogs on that). They market their beef privately, having it butchered at an accredited slaughter house. We took home some of the regional specialties they produce – salsiz (an air dried sausage, similar to salami), landjäger, and hauswurst. They also produce and sell the famous Bündner specialty Mostbröckli – meat from the hip, smoked and air dried, which is then sliced very thin before serving.
     No cow bells ring in the crisp winter air now. They’re hanging under the eaves of the centuries old house. The cattle are in the barn with access to the outdoors, just like at Markus Stamm’s. But Dominik’s animals spend the summer on the alpine meadows, on community pastures, and are fed alpine hay. Just the thought should make the meat taste better!

Next summer these cow bells will all be ringing somewhere on the Swiss alpine meadows. It's not just for the tourist ears, but so the cowboys can find the cattle more easily.

     One of the things I love about Switzerland is its close proximity to other worlds. In half an hour we’re in the Black Forest of Germany, in three hours in Italian Switzerland or Austria, or as this last weekend – in two hours we’re in the Alsace of France.
     The center pivots in the Rhine valley of the Alsace remind me of Africa. Funny, really. It’s not what people would usually associate with Africa. But most of the irrigation I’ve seen is on the big commercial farms we drive by on our way back and forth to the city of Lusaka, Zambia.
     What also remind me of Africa are the corn cribs on several fields. Storage for the harvested corn, they’re high, long narrow crates of metal grating that allow air to move freely through the cobs. I saw that in Africa first too.
     Interesting, how the developed world reminds me of the undeveloped world, not the other way around! It just goes to show that Africa has many sides to it, and in some ways is equal to the first world.
     I don’t even have any photos of the Alsace center pivots or corn cribs, because my first world digital SLR quit on me right then!

'Le Marche couvert de Colmar' (the covered market) was built in l863 and just reopened its doors after a major renovation.

     There isn’t much in common between the farmer’s market in Colmar, France and the Sokeni Market in Kitwe, Zambia though. The historical covered Colmar farmer’s market has just opened its doors again after a major renovation. We all comment on the grandiose market and the few people – no trying to elbow my way through a throng of shoppers and hawkers here! I don’t miss the Kitwe sewer or garbage smells either. Walking through the spacious aisles I breathe in the tantalizing scent of French smoked sausages and fresh baked Gougelhopf (Alsace cake.
     At a vegetable and fruit stand I get an Idared apple, a variety my uncle grew in Switzerland years ago. Jacqueline stills her hunger with the large Pretzels we see at every bakery. Mike talks English at the Portugese stand where he buys a beer that conjures up holiday memories. Robert checks out the savoury cheeses at the Alsace Mountain Farmer’s stand beside the Vietnamese specialities shop.

Robert studies the inscription on a centuries old building in Riquewhir.

     Sunday noon we stroll through the picturesque village of Riquewhir; its colourful twisted houses with ancient wooden beams forming the town walls. Standing under the arched entrance to the town, I wonder who has all passed through here over the centuries? It’s fun to follow the narrow cobblestone streets into large inner courts, or find the torture chamber in one of the towers.

We appreciate the warmth of a fire along with a pot of tea at the 'salon de the' in Riquewhir.

     We should have had lunch instead of tea at the ‘Salon de The’ in Riquewhir. It is a good idea to be hungry when the Alsace restaurants serve hot food – usually between noon and 2:00 p.m. (3:00 p.m. in the city) and from about 6:30 p.m. on. After trying two different villages and walking the chilly windy streets of Colmar again, we settle for a cold sandwich from a rare bakery that is open, and go home to cook spaghetti…

     The cows stand outside with their calves, soaking up the sun of an unusually warm January afternoon. One cow is bawling insistently. She just lost her calf an hour ago. It’s her own fault really – Markus tells me she wouldn’t let the calf near her for the first two days and it lost that very important first colostrum milk. He got a substitute from the vet, but the calf never did do well.

Bessy bemoans the loss of her calf.

     Immediately after the calf died, Markus went on the Swiss cattle identification website to report the death. Each animal is registered on the site, which farmers can access directly to report to. An animal’s every movement must be reported – when it is sold, or even just sent to the community pasture for the summer, and its return home.
     Markus Stamm (no relative to us, nor to Walter Stamm from my last blog) is one of many Swiss dairy farmers that switched to beef some years ago. Beef production has become so popular that a beef cow is more expensive to purchase now than a dairy cow. The loss of the milk quota a year ago probably contributed to this scenario. In contrast to Walter, who buys calves and feeds them out, Markus holds cow/calf pairs and raises the calves to slaughter weight at ten months. By doing so, and ensuring that the cattle have free access to the outdoors, he qualifies for the label ‘Natura Beef’. This is the Coop label, one of Switzerland’s largest grocery chains.

Markus Stamm raises 'Natura Beef'. Many consumers are happy to pay more knowing the calves were raised with their mothers, with access to fresh air.

     The Coop’s competitor, Migros, has its own label – ‘Bio Weide Beef’ (Organic pastured beef). Migros beef is raised on organic pastures, but the calves aren’t necessarily raised with their mother.
     Markus raises some conventional beef too. That means the cattle are always inside, usually on slatted floors, in quite confined conditions compared to a Canadian feedlot. He gets 10 Swiss Francs per Kilo slaughtered weight for the ‘Natura Beef’, and eight Francs per Kilo for the conventional beef. (The Swiss Franc is about on par with the Canadian Dollar.)

Conventional beef are raised in confined spaces inside, often on slatted floors. They may be just as healthy but the farmer will get a lower price.

     I admire the pure bred Limousin bull. Most of Markus’ cows are a mix of Fleckvieh with Limousin, or Brown Swiss with Limousin. He likes a mix of the dairy cow with the beef cow, as the weight gain of his calves is primarily from their mother’s milk.
     As with Walter and Doris the week before, the conversation inevitably turns to the restrictive regulations, and the even more restrictive ones coming up. Markus tells me that many farmers will quit when the next round comes into effect – i.e. forbidding the sole use of slatted floors for even conventional cattle. Making the necessary adjustments will just be too expensive. Or maybe they just don’t want to play the game anymore.

Greetings from Switzerland!

     The view hasn’t changed – fields of winter canola and wheat, behind them the dark outlines of the Black Forest across the border in Germany.

These steers enjoy the fresh air that qualifies their meat for the label "Swiss Beef".

     But otherwise little has stayed the same for the Emmerhof, the farm we left almost 20 years ago for a new life in Canada. This morning we had breakfast with the owners, Doris and Walter Stamm (no relation). I asked them what had changed for them in that time.
     The biggest change, Doris told me, was that where farmers once derived most of their income from the price of their product, a good part now comes from subsidies. These subsidies increasingly are tied to production practices that have more to do with sustaining nature than farmers.
     The buzz word in Swiss agriculture right now is biodiversity: providing an ecosystem that is as diverse as possible. There are farmers like Gabi Uelinger, whom I wrote about in my June 1/10 blog (Harmony), who are happy to farm in harmony with nature. Others, like Walter Stamm, find the regulations choking. He chaffs at the idea of splitting his already small fields (often only five acres) into three parts with hedges.
     Besides grain and sugar beets, the Stamms produce beef, as we already did. They buy calves and raise them to slaughter weight. To maintain competitiveness, they went beyond regulations that required more space per animal and provided access to free range outside to qualify for the label product, “Swiss Beef”. Doris says that the only buyers for conventionally produced beef are restaurants. Consumers all demand label products that prove the meat is produced in animal friendly ways.

The 'TerraSuisse' label ensures consumers the meat was produced in a manner that protects the environment and encourages biodiversity.

     New changes are tying meat label requirements together with biodiversity requirements. Doris feels that is unfair – environmental practices that don’t affect your feed have nothing to do with the way you look after your animals. Right now they are fortunate to be able to fulfill the points needed for biodiversity. They have enough extensive hay land on steeper slopes, land along bush lines, and old fruit trees. But if regulations continue to tighten, they may decide to give up the label product.
     When Robert made the decision to move to Canada to farm, he did it in part because as a member of provincial agriculture boards he saw changes coming he didn’t want to be a part of. They laughed at him then, saying those changes are a long ways off and won’t be that bad. The changes began within a year and are more far reaching than even he thought.
     But the Stamms are thankful to be on the Emmerhof and we are thankful to be in Canada. A win/win for all!

     The Western Producer just published a special edition “The Dirt on Soil”; highlighting what a precious commodity our soil is, to be treated with the utmost respect.
     I see it clearly in my mind – my father stands on the land; his big calloused hand reaches down for a fistful of soil. He buries his face in it and breathes deeply of the fresh earthy scent.

The soil in the Mpongwe area of Zambia is some of the most fertile in the whole country.

     Years later my husband would stand in a field in Mpongwe, Zambia and reach down into some of the most fertile tropical soil there is, and bring a handful to his nose. Around him a group of African farmers stands watching curiously. Pastor Chipenama scoops up some of the red earth and smells it. He shakes his head – he smells nothing. He reaches for Robert’s hands and bends down to smell. Nothing. Just ordinary Mpongwe dirt. Some of the best dirt there is.
     I grew up on grey wooded soil – stuff that in drought years, as too often, turned into a fine white powder. It was marginal land, in northern British Columbia, but if farmed well and improved with clover could produce a good crop when it rained just right.
     Later in Switzerland on Robert’s family farm, I almost cried when i planted my first garden into the heavy unwieldy clay. I was surprised when I harvested the biggest carrots I’d ever seen. It took a careful hand, but was very productive.
     Here in Westlock we must be at the far edge of what was once the Garden of Eden. A thin layer of black top soil over sandy loam produces crops (and weeds) year after year that are the envy of most Prairie farmers. My mother-in-law from Switzerland, kneeling to plant strawberries into the soft black earth that first spring here, was in awe. She took a small jar of Westlock soil back home with her.

Pastor Chipenama tries hard to smell what Robert smells: healthy productive soil.

     As farmers we are the stewards of what provides food for the nations. I was impressed to read (in the special soil issue) that the soil quality of Canadian Prairies has improved considerably in the last 30 years. Zero tillage and rotations with pulse crops are two of the main contributing factors, according to an article by William DeKay (Soil quality better than 30 years ago: scientist).
     Editor Barb Glen writes, “one gram of soil can contain 5,000 to 7,000 species of bacteria” (Editorial Notebook: Western Producer special issue on soil).
     That’s why we preach conservation farming (CF) so emphatically to our Zambian farmers. Traditionally the small farmers burn the corn residue after harvest. The heat of burning and the exposure of bare soil for months to the hot tropical sun kill so much life that is important for a healthy productive soil. CF methods don’t use burning, and insist on a soil cover. Consistent use of those methods begins to dramatically improve production. Healthy soil produces better and smells good!

Families have been coming home for Christmas ever since that first Christmas, when they were sent to their home town for the census (or, as the old King James Version of the Bible puts it, to tax the people). This Christmas, my side of the family was together for the first time in many years – no small feat with seven siblings!

My hockey playing nieces are thrilled to teach their Mexican-American uncle how to skate.

     The first of us met at the Christmas Eve Candlelight service in Fort St. John, B.C. – Margrit and Alex from Los Angeles, Barb down from Fort Nelson, we’re up from Westlock and Mom and Dad from the farm. As we sang the familiar Christmas carols I shed a few tears for my friend Joanne who is ‘home’ for Christmas in her own way – we buried her the Monday before. It will be a difficult season for her family, and some others we know too.

     I think I have a crazy family – forgive me, guys, for saying so! But I love them all. We’re a loud, chaotic bunch, and Christmas dinner seems an unorganized affair until it is finally ready. Our original family of nine has grown into 31 now, with the first great granddaughter. I’m always thrilled that even the grown grandchildren, some home from college, join us. It makes for a full house! Mom loves it when we’re all there, but I think she is secretly glad when we leave again.

     Margrit came expressly to see Dad open the box with his first published book: Kanada, Dein Neues Heimatland. We’d asked him to write the story of coming to Canada and building up a pioneer farm in Cecil Lake. I typed his notes on computer, edited, found and placed pictures. A cousin in Switzerland edited the German grammar, and Margrit formatted the whole thing for print, with cover picture. Only I had seen the finished product.

Three generations pour over Dad's memoirs of building up a farm in northern Canada.

     It was a grand moment. Dad signed copies for each family. In every corner family members poured over the books, laughing at the early pictures of aunties and their uncle. Even though this first version is in German, pictures are a universal language. We hope to get an English version ready for next Christmas.

     This book contains my heritage, my roots. I’ve often thought that it is easier for me to relate to small scale farmers in Africa who live with very little because I grew up on a small farm with very little. As much as possible we lived off the land. Dad wrote often of how we relied on neighbours for help, and sometimes it was a Swiss aunt who sent the money to tide us over for another bit. It was a long hard ten years until Dad was finally a dairy farmer with quota and the money began to flow more freely.

     I am very privileged to have such a heritage, to have such a wonderful crazy family to come home to.