I hit 800 single page views this morning! Thanks mom.
No but really, it makes me happy that someone is actually reading what I have to say out on my adventure. Though, this will probably be my most thought out post.
I debated whether I should recount this last week or just slide into next week's adventure. I settled on somewhere in-between.
So here goes. I have left the farm I was scheduled to stay on for two weeks. I will not divulge any identifying details as WWOOF is starting an "investigation," regarding the owners of the farm. Sounds more nefarious than it actually is. I arrived Monday morning after a great weekend in Sweden, excited to get to work and learn a lot about farming in the Netherlands. What I found was not to expectation. There were four other WWOOFers on the farm already, three Italian guys and an Irish woman. All of them in their early twenties and understanding the reputation of the volunteer program we had signed up through. The men had been on the farm for two or three months, one being promised a hiring position but never receiving one, another with a PhD in agriculture, and the last here because there were not enough jobs in Italy for his profession. The Irish girl informed me she had cut her stay short with an early flight back home on Saturday. They told me over dinner how grueling the hours were and how the work wasn't always to their liking. I dismissed this because I assumed they were not expecting the work required on a farm (this one is not subsistence). We had a great dinner of pasta and cake, telling stories in short english sentences and learning about each others' lives. I was excited to spend two weeks with this crowd. But the next morning after waking up in the tiny yurt all five of us slept in, I discovered they did have something to complain about. We were told to work 8 hours a day, from 8am to 5pm, with an hour lunch and 15 minute breaks every 2 hours. The agreement through WWOOF is between 4 to 6 hours. There were many other agreements that were not observed, including the lack of food provided, any sort of accessibility to the farmers if an issue arose, and the promise of consistent shelter. The last straw for me came at approximately 8:45am my first and only day when the farmer confronted me while retrieving my water bottle from the yurt. He told me there would be no "leasuirely" walking about once work has started, even to get water. When I replied with disbelief he told me very sarcastically that I could go back to Amsterdam. So I did. The Irish girl came with me after she agreed how unfair it was to stay on this farm. We caught a train back to Amsterdam in the pouring rain (seemed fitting) where I am so grateful to have friends that I could stay with. They were so great to put up with me staying a week longer than planned. I have been here at the apartment, waiting to be placed at another farm which I am finally heading to tomorrow morning.
I decided to write about this experience because of the continuity of my timeline on this blog, but most importantly because I learnt something. I learned that it is very easy to get stuck in a difficult position by running out of money with a low-demand degree. I learned there are very large cracks that people slip through all the time. And I learned that when faced with an injustice, no matter how small, I can stand up for myself and will not endure it. I have my family to thank for that characteristic. I also realized how grateful I am to have that same family support me through circumstances of being between degrees and having many part-time jobs just to go on this unnecessary adventure.
It is hard not to compare this with our issues with immigrants in the United States. The comparison is not exact since the WWOOFers are citizens of the EU, but the cracks are the same. I mean c'mon, one of them was a doctor. How does that happen?! A hypothetical question that has bothered me all week; it has led to a reimagining of the type of farm I will run.
It made me very sad while I was leaving that the men staying behind did not have the same choice. I was disappointed with myself that something so small had offended me to the point of leaving when they had dealt with it for much, much longer. I told them this, and they said that once they had the means to leave, a very large curse word would be spray painted on the gate as they exited.
I, of course, refuse to let this be my only contact with WWOOFing in the Netherlands. The program has led several of my JMU friends to great experiences and I do not want to miss out on that. The farm I am going to tomorrow has a foundation for Autistic children on the premises, which is a perfect match for my two interests. I have a feeling it will look very similar to the education farm idea a rowing friend and I hatched one night after winter workouts. We both have passion for agriculture and psychology, so I will be sure to take notes!
Stay tuned for yet another adventure next week.
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