Life & TravelPaul Shetler Fast

Saving the Harvest

Life & TravelPaul Shetler Fast
Saving the Harvest
Okra seeds, dried and stored from last year's harvest. The seeds were produced (and held in this picture) by Jean Veny Normil.  

Okra seeds, dried and stored from last year's harvest. The seeds were produced (and held in this picture) by Jean Veny Normil.  

I have always found seeds kind of amazing. I remember the first time my dad explained to me that these beans we were about to cook could just as easily be planted. Whenever possible, I have planted edible gardens, from using bay trees as decoration in my office, to clandestinely planting cabbages in our front flower garden in Pittsburgh. One of the first things we did in our new home here in Port-au-Prince was to plant every square inch of soil with thyme, parsley, cilantro, rosemary, dill, basil, chives, garlic, oregano, tomatoes, greens, cucumbers, lettuce, okra, and squash. But to be honest, I’d always just bought seeds and never thought too much about the time and steps involved between harvesting seeds from one crop, and planting them for the next. This week, while visiting a project in the rural community of Kabay, Haiti, I got a first hand look at the impact seed storage has on farmers and their families. 

Haiti’s rural economy is built on small-holder agriculture; mostly poor farmers eking out a livelihood on small rocky plots of land. They are subsistence farmers, without access to basic infrastructure like roads and electricity, let alone modern agricultural tools like irrigation systems, tractors, or fertilizer. In this kind of a context, poor farming families are often left with a lose-lose choice when it comes to what to do with their seeds after harvest. They either risk losing their whole seed stock to pests and mold in a corner of their house, or, selling the whole crop when prices are at rock-bottom after harvest and then buying seeds back to plant at peak-price. Given the slim margins possible from this type of agriculture, buying back seeds is like a high interest loan that eats away at any possibility of saving for the future.

Nicolas Ivete, president of the Kabay farmers seed bank group

Nicolas Ivete, president of the Kabay farmers seed bank group

Our organization (Mennonite Central Committee) has been working with Kabay farmers to develop a community-owned seed bank: a safe dry place to store their seeds after the harvest. The group of farmers, led by their passionate young president, Nicolas Ivete (pictured above), records each farmer's deposit of seeds at harvest, safely stores the seeds, and then oversees seed distribution at planting time. This seed bank is inexpensive and simple, yet can be life changing. As Pierre Saint-Abel, a farmer and seed bank participant, explained, “I used to sleep with one ear open, always anxious that animals were eating my seeds...I knew that if they did, my children would go hungry next season because I would have nothing to plant.” 

Last week the rains started, which meant it was time to plant. On Friday, I attended the Kabay seed bank's distribution. It was a time of hope as farmers and their children walked hours to collect their seeds, knowing that they would plant for another season. 

Fleurimond Konsel, Kabay farmer and seed bank participant

Fleurimond Konsel, Kabay farmer and seed bank participant

Life & TravelPaul Shetler FastComment

3 Families After Hurricane Matthew

High in the mountains above the Artibonite river, we pass through villages and clusters of houses that do not appear on maps, past destroyed houses that will never make it into official calculations of the damage fromHurricane Matthew in Haiti. We are miles from the nearest paved road, many hours from the nearest medical clinic, and nearly a full day's walk to the market where people normally sell their produce to purchase necessities like medicine, oil, and clothing. When I asked the local government official with us, why his region showed zero damage on the latest UN maps, he grew angry, "How would they even know? No one has come up to look. No one has even asked." Working with the local governments, community organizations, and a likeminded NGO, we are bringing the first relief supplies to people whose homes and livelihoods were destroyed by Hurricane Matthew in this area. Within 72 hours of the rains stopping, all our prepositioned aid (water treatment supplies, blankets, food, and hygiene kits) have been distributed to people in need. This is only the beginning for these families on the long path to rebuilding their lives and their communities.

If you've been watching the news on Haiti, you know of the devastation that Hurricane Matthew has wrought; the rapidly rising death toll, the destroyed homes and livelihoods, the statistics of suffering on a massive scale. But for us, and for our organization MCC, the story both begins and ends with the resilience and perseverance of the people and communities we serve. These are human stories better told through pictures of people, pictures of dignity and strength in the face of loss.

Here are the stories of three families after the storm.

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3 Families After Hurricane Matthew
Fall, Life & Travel, Mains, Regional SpecialtiesPaul Shetler Fastcabbage, pasta, onionComment

Pittsburgh Style Haluski

Just over a week ago, Hurricane Irma swept past Haiti; bringing heavy rains, wind, and flash flooding to many of the communities we work in. These have been busy days of travel, hearing the stories of survivors, seeing the damage first-hand, and responding with food and emergency supplies to families who lost everything. My final trip last week was to the small community of Goyave, high in the mountains overlooking the coastal city of St. Marc. Goyave is a farming community that had been devastated by Hurricane Matthew last year. I was there to join in the celebration of a successful harvest and the end of an MCC project to help these farmers rebuild their gardens and livelihoods. Each of the 200 families who participated in the project brought a symbol of their good harvest. Soon our outdoor meeting area was filled with piles of beautiful fresh produce: cabbages, militon squash, corn, beans, avocados, onions, leeks, sour oranges, bananas, plantains, passion fruit, pumpkins, bell peppers, hot peppers, sugar cane, sweet potatoes, and yams. As we finished our meeting, a community elder stood up to speak, he reiterated his thanks for the project that had helped the community rebuild, and added that we all must remember the Haitian proverb, "Men ale, men vini, fe zanmi dire." This essentially translates as 'reciprocity is what makes for lasting friendships.' He advised that there were times when one needed to receive help, such as after a Hurricane, but that one must always work to give back. "It is bad for friendships if only one side gives," he said. So the community celebrated their rebuilding and their harvest by giving freely, to each other and to our group of visitors. It was humbling and beautiful to witness and receive this generosity. Arriving home late at night, dusty and tired, with a bag full of fresh cabbages and onions, I thought back to other celebrations and shared meals. I remembered many potlucks and meals with friends from our Pittsburgh days, and one of the region's classic comfort foods for shared celebrations -- Haluski. While there is much debate on whether Halsuki is authentically Polish (as is claimed by most Pittsburghers), there is little controversy about how simple it is to make, and delicious to eat. It is comfort food at its best: caramelized onions, cabbage, and kielbasa mixed with buttery egg noodles. A hearty and rustic crowd-pleaser, and a celebration of the season's bounty.

Fall, Life & Travel, Mains, Regional SpecialtiesPaul Shetler Fastcabbage, pasta, onionComment
Pittsburgh Style Haluski
Life & TravelPaul Shetler FastComment

Thanksgiving

In my early twenties, I worked at a homeless shelter in New Mexico. During evening shift, the most critical task was dinner for the shelter's 70 guests. The evening meal prep would start mid-afternoon when, most often, a passel of grey-haired church ladies would descend on the shelter kitchen. For the next few hours, the kitchen would be a chaotic mess of aproned volunteer cooks, hustling to prepare and serve the meal. On the occasional night when volunteers and groceries failed to show up, I would be left improvising with a pantry of mismatched items and hungry people to feed.

One night, just as I was starting to worry about the absence of both volunteers and food, there was a hesitant knock at the back door. A young man, about my age, was standing there with a huge pot in his hands. I helped him unloaded pot after pot of red and green chile from an old car parked out back. With the chiles bubbling on the stove, he set to work rolling out and frying the traditional sopapilla accompaniment. 

Complementing him on the meal as I was helping him pack up his now empty pots, I asked him how he heard about the shelter. He told me that he had been homeless this time last year, and had stayed the night many times in our shelter. He said, “I figured since cooking is something I can do, I should give back.”

Gratitude has been linked to everything from longer life expectancy to better relationships and happiness. Tomorrow, we will be sharing a Thanksgiving feast with loved ones, and we hope that many of our American readers will as well. On a holiday named for gratitude, we also recognize that great disparities exist. This evening, 610,000 Americans will spend the night on the streets, one-quarter of whom are children. Tonight, 49 million Americans will not have secure access to food, and millions more will not be safe in their own homes. This Thanksgiving, there are countless ways to show gratitude.

Life & TravelPaul Shetler FastComment
Thanksgiving
Life & TravelPaul Shetler FastComment

Good Friday On Mòn Kalvè

About an hour east of Port-au-Prince, just off the the road that leads to Santo Domingo, sits Mòn Kalvè (Calvary Mountain), a pilgrimage site during Holy Week here in Haiti. Starting just after dawn on Good Friday, a friend and I hopped on motos and made our way to the base of the mountain. We joined the faithful making their slow pilgrimage to the top. Stopping at each station of the cross along the way, people prayed, sang, lit candles, asked for healing, paid penance, and remembered loved ones. Kneeling side-by-side to pray in the crowd, I was moved by the candor of sorrows and joys shared. Some had walked days in hope of a miracle. Others came to sell food, candles, hats, and herbal remedies to the pilgrims. For me, it was an opportunity to reflect, give thanks, and to stand in wonder of this beautiful new country we call home, and the indomitable spirit of her people.

Life & TravelPaul Shetler FastComment
Good Friday On Mòn Kalvè
Life & TravelPaul Shetler FastComment

Cashews: Journey to the Table

As people who love to cook, it's easy to focus on food's transformation in the kitchen. But living in Haiti, and working alongside farmers, reminds us that the vast majority of the risk, effort, and artistry that goes into food's journey happens long before it reaches us in the kitchen. Take cashews, a nut I've always found delicious. You can find a thousand recipes for what to 'do' with cashews in the kitchen, in fact we have a few on our blog, but today I want to focus instead on their journey to the kitchen -- from fragile seedlings in mountain-top nurseries, to the freshly roasted cashew nuts for sale in market stalls.   

Life & TravelPaul Shetler FastComment
Cashews: Journey to the Table