Leeks, Kale and Bulbous Brasilica

Today I met a farmer growing leeks, kale and kohlrabi; a variety of cabbage with a edible swollen stem. His weathered eyes asked questions of me yet he spoke no words, pushing a wheel barrel with a few vegetables he offered me some. 

A gentle reflection rose from his brow. I gratefully accepted, I asked him if he wanted money, no—it was his joy to give the food he had grown. I stood looking at his face etched by years of working the fields. Deeply set on his forehead were dark, fine lines shaping his eyes, speaking a silent wisdom earned from tending the earth.

It was late spring when he reluctantly made the decision to report to the City that he had been having terrible problems with flooding into his fields from a neighbour directly east. 

On the south Fraser shores he owned and farmed year after year. It was country side, far away from the big City of Vancouver, resplendent and low, a good distance from the rain forest canopy below sea level.

Deep sand with clay and peat bog dominated the low lying land. Looking north to the mountains he would check the weather as his grandfather taught him and run to him to report what he saw as a boy. Within a day or two the old man was right, his weather prediction had come true and the boy filled with wonder at his grandfather's accuracy. 

The flooding into his fields continued through a second season on the south Fraser shores that year. Looking east he noticed the dark flat strip of land, he estimated it rose a good six feet above the level of his own. He wrote a letter and gave what he called 'a standup presentation' to the City, it amounted to 1 minute of talking without stopping in front of well dressed people who looked busy and important. 

It had taken up valuable time but he felt compelled to tell of his experience at loosing his crops of leek, kale, bok choy and kohlrabi, gone the season before.

All told it amounted to 16,000 dollars, the largest loss he sustained thus far in all his years of farming on Lulu Island. 

Neighbours gathered at his small home to discuss the ongoing problem, bickering with each other over oolong tea and cigarettes. There was a general consensus among them, raising of the land next door was causing the flooding, gravity had a habit of drawing water no where but down. 

From the doorway his Vietnamese wife listened quietly to the heated debate at her small kitchen table, the farmer raised his hand to quiet the voices and for the forth time she stepped forward and wiped the table of fallen ashes and spilt tea. The neighbours withheld their voices and watched her careful hands prepare the table for another round of arguments. 

"나는이 한 번만 말하고 싶다"고 말했다. "시간과 좋은 호의는 우리가이 문제를 해결하는 데 도움이됩니다 그러나 나는 우리가 인내심을해야합니다를 참조하십시오."

["I want to say this only once", she said. "Time and good favour will help us solve this problem yet I see we must be patient."]

She went to the oven and pulled out the pan, she had prepared a savoury snack of kholrabi chips. Placing them on the table she gave each guest a napkin and gently smiled putting her neighbours at ease.