Old Miss Annie had a farm…

eeee…iii….eeee….iiii….oooohh…..

So having grown up in Roseburg, while it is known for its country-folk, I didn’t exactly grow up on a farm. In fact, I pretty much grew up in Suburbia, and going to the farm meant going to Kruse Farm to pick out our pumpkins. That’s about as close as I’ve ever gotten, yet here I am today, living the true farm life.

My family, including most of the families in San Juan de Lacamaca, own farm land either beside their houses or close by. The rainy season is about to start and this past week we have been blessed with minimal rain, so many of the men in town are working the land to get ready to plant. What I have noticed in my town is that most people’s jobs consist of working the land and raising animals. The few professionals in town, like the nurses and teachers, live in Bambamarca, the nearest big city, and commute to and from everyday. My family plants cabbage, carrots, corn, and beets and from what I’ve heard, most of the families sell their produce instead of keep it. So I’m hoping to persuade my family to keep some, as I’d hate to see fresh veggies leave.

In addition to farm land, we also have animals, and quite a few I might add. We have 2 cows (shared with my Aunt and Grandma), 3 pigs, 2 turkeys and 9 baby turkeys, 5 guinea pigs, 3 dogs, 1 cat, and 1 laying hen (and a partridge in a pear tree!) I usually wake up to the turkeys gobbling and the dogs barking (not far off from Lima), and we constantly are battling with our mischievous chicken, who likes to sneak into the kitchen. Just the other day, it snuck into the kitchen and found the bag of corn and dumped it all over the floor! That’s either one smart chicken or one very stupid chicken.

So far I have not killed any animals, but I’m pretty sure my pigs have it in for me. As I think I’ve mentioned before, my pigs are by the latrines out back and every day I have to find a way around them or else they like to attack me. My friend told me pigs like to bite and I don’t want to be on the receiving end of their dirty schnauzers. There was a close call the other day when one of the pigs came up behind me and head-butted me. I’m just glad that it wasn’t raining or I would have fallen flat on my butt.

Having just mentioned my latrine, I have also made the discovery of just how annoying it is to have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. My mom used to tell me stories of her and her sisters having to brave the snow to make it to the outhouse while at grandma’s farm. Well I think I now feel their pain, and for that reason I have bought myself my very own “bucket” or as my mom likes to call it “a chamber pot.” I have yet to use it, and am saving it for a rainy day (literally). Ha.

Overall though, life in the “campo” is good. It’s great to wake up to the fresh air, and glimpse at the mountains overshadowing me. It reminds me of where I am everyday and to appreciate it for what it is. Because when else am I going to have a chance to have fresh eggs and milk for breakfast or have to battle pigs just to go to the bathroom…

That´s right...probably never...