Blog Post 6

A few weeks ago, a farmer came into the CSA office. My fellow coworkers here
introduced him to me as an incredible man as we shook hands, and I was quite
intrigued as to what made him worthy of such an introduction. He smiled widely with his
hand in mine and asked me When are you coming to my farm? We exchanged
telephone numbers and he told me about how he loves to host young people at his organic
farm. He passionately believed in organic farming as a means of sustainability and
protecting the planet while also living a fulfilling lifestyle. His goal in life was to share
this knowledge with as many people as possible. He finished by explaining how young
people, like young trees, could be molded and shaped, whereas older trees took much
more time in changing. I was quite excited to visit his farm and see how I could change.
The other day, I had the absolute pleasure of visiting Naidus farm. We met at a bus stop
and he took me to his home in Hyderabad. Upon entering, the first thing I saw was a
large, framed portrait of Naidu shaking hands with none other than George W. Bush, who
had visited Naidus farm in 2006. Happy and shocked that I was now within one degree
of separation from the infamous ex-President, I quickly realized how special this
experience would turn out to be. He cooked me breakfast with rice and milk from his
field and cows and explained how his techniques he had developed allowed him to have
the most productive acre of rice paddy in all of India. (His paddy grows to be over 6
feet tall, twice as tall as normal paddy. Agricultural scientists from around the world have
visited his farm to take samples. He has a lot of pictures to prove this.) We then boarded a
bus overflowing with people and dozens of large tin containers that dairy farmers had
used to transport milk in to the city and were on our way. This was my first venture onto
a Hyderabad public bus, and my presence caused quite a stir among those scattered
between the milk tins; Naidu said many asked me if I could help them get a job in the US
or if I knew Obama. Despite the many questions, curious stares, and clanking milk tins, it
was very important to observe that that bus ride was an illustration of how rural life
mixes and clashes with urban life daily here.
We arrived at Naidus farm, and it was a veritable paradise among the dry and unkempt
fields that surrounded it. Huge trees swayed in the gentle breeze that carried the moos
from the cows as we approached. When we arrived in the shade under the thick canopies
the temperature dropped 15 degrees. The 12 acres of farm before us was covered in all
sorts of trees, crops, and flowers in which dragonflies and 15 varieties of butterflies lived.
In the nearby field, four workers hunched over the rows of newly planted mango plants,
working the earth with well-worn tools to usher the slowly creeping water down the
rows. Small cranes crept among the fields, snatching at pests. Naidu then showed me
around each part of the farm as he and his workers shouted at each other (most of the 7
workers have worked on his farm for 25 years, and Naidus 92 year old mother is one of
them.) He showed me tomatoes, brinjal, wheat, mangoes, papayas, drumsticks, bitter
gourd, banana, red banana, Bird of Paradise flowers, tamarind, coconut, coffee beans,
black pepper, all spice, teakwood trees, a honeycomb, and more. It was amazing to see
how so many varieties in a relatively small space. Also, there were five four-week-old
puppies running around.

As we sat down to lunch, Naidu told me how much it meant to him that I came to his
farm. More importantly, it meant a lot to him that I came by myself and went with him on
the local bus. While I didnt really have any other option of getting there, the sentiment
did not lose any potency, and it taught me an important lesson.
Naidu has shown his farm to thousands of students. He has shown it to multiple heads of
state, countless scientists, and numerous Indian government officials. The wonder of his
farm is impossible to ignore, and the scope of Naidus impact is undeniable. However,
traveling alongside him throughout the day showed me how behind a beautiful product
that thousands flock to see, there is a lot, and I mean a lot, of additional labor.
As the day wound down, the crops harvested (tomatoes, brinjal, some leafy vegetables,
and milk) were sorted into bags to be transported back into town to go to markets and
Naidus own kitchen. When that was done, Naidu, his mother, and I all sat on the side of
the road waiting for the bus to arrive to take us back to Hyderabad. It pulled up noisily,
we loaded the bags, and began the hour and a half journey back. The bus steadily swelled
with more and more passengers and when we arrived at our stop, we grabbed the heavy
bags of produce and set them outside the bus amid the chaos of the city. Naidu and his
mother gave the driver a handful of tomatoes, and then sought out an autorickshaw driver
to carry the load back to his home. Some drivers were lined up and Naidu negotiated
agitatedly with them as vendors tried to sell Bluetooth headsets to his mother and me. A
car turned left and very nearly crushed a few of the bags and Naidu shouted at the driver
while still trying to consult a ride with the autorickshaw. Finally it all worked out, and we
loaded up the products and arrived at Naidus home.
I was exhausted from the day, yet as soon as we got home, Naidus mother began to clean
the home, sweeping every square inch. Her back hunched permanently from thousands of
days in the field and her skin showed the dramatic effects of 92 years of gravitational
force yet after the long day she never stopped working (and of course never once
complained.) Naidu told me she had never been to the hospital. I stared in awe.
Naidu told me how important it was for him that I traveled with him to his farm. And I
am so grateful for the opportunity. Not only because it gave me the chance to get to know
him more, but also because it gave me the chance to truly see the demands of daily life
here for farmers. Naidus farm is an oasis that has drawn thousands of visitors, yet the
details of his daily routine are hardly anyones idea of paradise. The newly established
Telangana state government can only provide three hours of power per day and one hour
of water, forcing Naidu to adapt. He owns no vehicle yet transports thousands of pounds
of produce per year. He and his mother persevere, quietly and without complaint, despite
the obstacles of life here.
It takes a lot of work to create and, more importantly, maintain something beautiful and
productive. But with all the obstacles it takes to survive here, the plight that farmers face
is enormous. Naidu has had his hard work recognized by heads of state and thousands of
students (deservedly so), whereas the vast majority of farmers here receive no such

recognition. Yet they face the same obstacles that Naidu does and more. To witness the
work behind the beauty of Naidus farm revealed a glimpse into the daily struggles a
farmer faces and engenders an appreciation for the scope of the challenges that
agriculture faces in Hyderabad and India, where the resultant chaos of rural and urban life
colliding reigns. Glaring problems are not solved with easy solutions, but rather hard
work and persistence. And even when something beautiful is created, the work doesnt
end there, though maybe a few more moments of peace become possible.