走，去做个农民

2013-08-20

阅读与作文（英语高中版） 2013年8期

Sometimes people ask me why I farm. I tell them different things. To some I say that， biologically， we are meant to be farmers. “Weve been farming for thousands of years. Why stop now？” I say.

To others （seeing an opportunity to shorten or end the conversation as quickly as possible）， I say that I farm because I like good food. “Cant argue with that1，” they say， thankfully.

To a third group of people， usually those most interested in farming， I explain that when I was younger I made a list of jobs I could imagine myself enjoying. I tell them the list included “small-scale organic vegetable farmer” and that I somehow fell into it. I add some esoteric2， overly idiosyncratic3 items to my fictional list of self-actualizing professions in order to make them laugh or to distract them. I say that besides farmer， on my list were rapper， astronaut， lonely graduate student， writer， playwright， lonely history professor， and lonely Civil War reenactor4. I explain this maniacally5， with eyes wide， until whoever asked the question starts talking about himself or loses interest.

To the fourth group—those with whom Im most honest—I shrug and sadly mumble something about not knowing what else to do. “I could probably be a good janitor6， maybe，” I say， almost inaudibly7， “but I dont know what else Id be doing. Im not really good at anything.”

I grew up in somewhat urban New Jersey， about 20 miles outside of Manhattan， and didnt have a lot of interaction with nature. My dad kept a small vegetable garden in my aunts backyard until I was nine or 10 and then he stopped. I remember helping him in the garden a few times and liking it.

I ate a lot of processed food. I liked Toaster Strudels and Pop-Tarts. I liked bread. I put ketchup8 on most things. Most of the time I felt really awful. I wondered why my stomach hurt so much. In high school I went to a digestive specialist， who gave me a cup of high-fructose9 corn syrup to drink. I got sick almost immediately. He told me I had an HFCS allergy10 and “probably irritable11 bowel syndrome or Crohns disease12” or something. It seemed that most of the food I was encouraged to eat was poison to my body. I was frustrated by my stomach and， though I didnt realize it then， by the food system I was trapped in.

Being sick showed me that theres a lot wrong with the way things are set up and maybe， I thought， if we do things differently， theres a chance we could get it right. I discovered subculture13. I learned that there are alternative ways to eat， which， it turns out， is how most people in history have eaten. Sometimes I wished Id been born 100 years earlier.

After college， I left New Jersey to become a farmer. Through WWOOF14 （Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms）， I discovered a farm about six hours northwest in the Finger Lakes region of New York. The farm， where I still live and work， is called East Hill Farm. Its a project of the Rochester Folk Art Guild， an intentional community15 of craftspeople and farmers who have lived together in Middlesex， New York， since 1967.

So， I made the odd， difficult transition from a life rooted in urban culture in New Jersey to a rural， agricultural lifestyle in an intentional community. Its a transition that Im still trying to figure out16. Ive learned more practical skills than I ever thought I would： bread baking， logging， vegetable and fruit production， woodworking， operating a tractor， canning and food preservation， beekeeping， raising and slaughtering17 pigs， raising and slaughtering chickens. Ive learned how to live by myself in a one-room， “off-the-grid18” shed through the winter. Ive experienced love and heartbreak and made great friends. Ive been more confused than ever before. Ive discovered that I have much to learn about human interaction and relationships.

Im now on the verge of my third season of farming. Its the best job Ive ever had， though also one of the most puzzling. Sometimes farming feels simple—like the crops grow themselves， and its almost a gift that this work exists for us. Ive thinned beets19 while lying on my side in beautiful June weather and thought， “Farming can be lazy and relaxing， I guess.” Other times， farming seems impossible. It feels like there is so much that has to go right—too much—for it ever to work. But despite my inexperience and lack of knowledge and small stature and self-deprecation， so far Ive somehow made it work.

If you sometimes feel that youre not good at anything， consider becoming a farmer. Youll discover that youre actually good at many things. Youll learn many skills that make you feel fulfilled and proud of yourself and then youll realize that these are all the skills that are being forgotten.

Know， also， that farming is tough. Some days， maybe most days， youll feel overwhelmed20. When your crop of onions is failing and your tomatoes have blight21 and the weed pressure on your winter squash22 is mounting and you cant stand the people you work with （or， worse， the people you work with cant stand you） and your livelihood depends on this food， youll feel overwhelmed and even afraid. But youll also feel a fullness. Your life will feel different from how it would if you were a young person living in a city， working in an office， going to bars and restaurants. Youll know what quiet is and youll be able to go outside at night and see darkness. Your body， at first weak from the winter or the suburbs， will reject your work. Then， after struggling， it will embrace it. Youll eat good food. Eventually， youll ask： “How do I live well？” And we need you to answer that question. We desperately need you to.

人们有时问我为什么种地。对不同的人，我有不同的说法。对有些人我会说，从生物学的角度来说，我们天生就是农民。“几千年来，我们一直在种地，为什么现在不呢？”我说。

对另外一些人（当我看到尽快缩短或结束对话的机会），我说种地是因为我喜欢优质的食物。“听起来是个好主意。”他们说。谢天谢地，谈话就此打住。

对第三类人——通常是那些对耕种特别感兴趣的人，我会说，我小时候曾列过一张清单，上面是我凭想象觉得自己会喜欢做的工作。我告诉他们，清单中有一项就是“小型有机蔬菜农场主”，而且说不上为什么，我就爱上了这个。此外，为了博他们一笑或分散他们的注意力，我还在这张虚构的实现自我的职业清单中加了一些非常小众和极其怪异的工作。我说，除了做农场主外，我还想做说唱歌手、宇航员、孤独的研究生、作家、编剧、孤独的历史学教授、孤独的内战重演爱好者。一说起这些来，我就激情四溢、神采飞扬，一直说到问问题的人开始谈论自己，或者对我所说的失去兴趣为止。

对第四类人——也就是那些我最为坦诚相对的人，我会耸耸肩，沮丧地小声咕哝说我不知道自己还能做什么。“可能我会是个不错的看门人吧，兴许是，”我说，声音低得几乎都听不到，“但我不知道其他我还能做什么。我真的什么都不在行。”

我在还算以城市为主的新泽西州长大，那儿离曼哈顿大约二十英里，那时的我和大自然没有太多的接触。父亲曾在姑妈的后院里种了一个小菜园，后来到我九岁或十岁的时候，父亲就不再种了。我还记得有几次在园子里给父亲做帮手，而且乐在其中。

我吃过不少加工食品。我爱吃Toaster Strudel点心和Pop-Tarts软饼。我还爱吃面包。我吃大部分食物都要蘸着番茄酱吃。但大多数时候，我都觉得很不舒服。我不知道胃为什么会那么疼。上中学时我去看消化科专家，他让我喝了一杯高果糖的玉米糖浆。我几乎是一喝下去就感到恶心。他告诉我说我有高果糖玉米糖浆过敏症，“可能还有过敏性肠炎或克罗恩病”或者其他什么病。这样看来，我以前受鼓动所吃的大多数食物对我的身体都有害。我觉得灰心丧气，不仅是因为胃痛，还因为我深陷其中的食物体系——虽然当时我并没有意识到这一点。

身体不舒服让我意识到：我们的生活方式出了大问题。我想也许换一种方式的话，情况可能会有好转。我发现了一种亚文化，了解到还有其他的饮食方式可以选择，而事实证明，历史上的大多数人一直都是那样吃东西的。有时，我真希望自己早出生一百年。

大学毕业后，我离开新泽西，成了一个农民。通过世界有机农场机会组织，我找到了位于纽约仙指湖区西北部的一家农场，开车过去大概六个小时。我现在仍在这个名为“东山农场”的地方生活和劳作。东山农场是罗切斯特民间艺术协会的一个项目。该协会是由手工艺人和农民组成的一个共益社区，他们自1967年起就共同居住在纽约的米德尔塞克斯镇。

如此一来，我的生活方式发生了奇特而艰难的转变，从在新泽西的城市生活转变为在共益社区的乡村农耕生活。我至今仍试图想弄明白这一转变是怎么完成的。我学会了很多以前自认为学不会的实用技能：烤面包、伐木、种植蔬菜和水果、做木工、开拖拉机、做罐头、储藏食品、养蜜蜂、养猪、杀猪、养鸡、杀鸡。我学会如何独自在一间没有任何公共服务设施的小屋中度过冬天。在那里，我体验到了爱与伤痛，交到了很多好朋友。我比以前更为困惑。我发现在人际交往和亲密关系方面，我还有许多东西要学习。

如今，我的耕种生活马上要迎来第三个季节了。这是我所从事过的最棒的工作，虽然也是最令我困惑的工作之一。有时候，种地看起来很简单，比如庄稼自己会生长，我们能拥有这样的工作，简直就是上天的馈赠。在6月宜人的天气里，我侧躺在地里，一边给甜菜间苗，一边心想：“看来当农民也可以如此慵懒惬意。”但另外一些时候，种地又成了无比艰难的工作。它给我的感觉是，要想种地成功，好多好多——简直数不胜数——的事都不能出错。不过，尽管我经验不足，知识匮乏，身材矮小，并且对自己也不够自信，但我到目前为止还是种地种成功了。

如果你有时感觉自己对什么都不在行，那就考虑做个农民吧。你会发现，其实你对很多事都在行。你会学到许多技能，这些技能让你感到充实、自豪，然后你会意识到这些都是人们正在渐渐遗忘的技能。

不过，你也要明白，种地是个艰苦的差事。有些日子，也许是大多数日子，你会有一种手足无措的感觉。当你种的洋葱没有长出来，当你的西红柿得了枯萎病，当越来越多的野草爬满笋瓜地，当你无法忍受和你一起工作的人（或者更糟糕的，他们无法忍受你），当你的生计全要仰赖这些食物时，你就会不知所措，甚至感到害怕。但你也会觉得充实。如果你是一个居住在城市里的年轻人，在办公室工作，泡酒吧，下餐馆，那么这里的生活就与你的生活截然不同。你会明白什么叫安静，你夜晚出门就能够感受到黑暗。由于漫长的冬天或者郊区生活，你的身体起初会有些虚弱，会抗拒工作。而后，通过不断的努力，你的身体就会欣然接受这里的工作。你会吃到优质的食物。最终，你会问：“我过得好不好？”我们需要你来回答这个问题。我们非常期待你的回答。

注释

1. cant argue with that：（相当于It sounds like a good idea）听起来是个好主意；同意你的说法

2. esoteric adj. 限于少数人的

3. idiosyncratic adj. 独特的，怪异的

4. Civil War reenactor：内战重演爱好者，这些人致力于重现某些特定的战役或相关的历史事件。

5. maniacally adv. 热情过度地，兴奋过度地

6. janitor n. 看门人

7. inaudibly adv. 听不见地

8. ketchup n. 番茄酱

9. fructose n. 果糖

10. allergy n. 过敏症

11. irritable adj. [医]过敏性的