Travelogue: First WWOOF Experience

I met two other Americans who will be volunteering at the Dutchman's land here in Chile.  Max and Matthew are both 25, from Boston, and have already stayed at two other WWOOF farms during the past several weeks.  Their current location is conveniently located 45 minutes from Puerto Montt and I spent a night out there a few days ago to get out of the city.

The farm they are staying on grows all sorts of vegetables and has bees and goats as well.  The property has several homes--one for the owner, one for his parents, one for his sister, and one, the former main house, is dedicated to the volunteers.    The land is close to the sea and is best described as "cold jungle."  It is very wet and green with small family farms hidden amongst low rolling hills and babbling brooks.  Nearby is a pristing lake, and the views of surrounding mountains are epic.  Edible berries such as blackberries and murta grow wild and plentiful.

During Summer there may be more than ten volunteers, staying in the house and camping outside.  For the past couple weeks it has only been Max and Matthew.  The house includes three small bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, a small kitchen, and an amazing, spacious, add-on living room with a large skylight and a tree in the middle.  This last room is where we slept--on mattresses on the floor--and where the guys, understandably, spent most of their time.  It has electricity and running water, but only a few light bulbs work so candles are key.  A treasure trove of old junk, the house is filled with books, maps, guitars, clothes, old leather suitcases, and spiderwebs.

The guys had previously stayed at a farm with strict working schedules and family meals, but here they are largely left to themselves.  They are free to use vegetables and food from the land, but have to supply their own staples such as rice and flour, as well as gas for the camping stove in the house.  The work schedule is loose: Mattias, the owner, comes down to their house every few days and asks for help with various tasks such as picking vegetables, erecting or fixing mobile greenhouses, and working on the construction of a new beehouse.  

My brief stay at the farm was amazing, especially after too many days cooped up in the gray, dirty confines of the city.  We arrived at night and walked up the road to the farm in the dark, hopping over puddles and streams.  The smell of damp earth, wood fires, and cold clean air was refreshing.

That evening we ate some fresh vegetable soup by candlelight and listened to the soundtrack of From Dusk til Dawn, found amongst the rubble.  I caught a few hours asleep amidst the sounds of some animals in the walls and on the roof.

In the morning Matt convinced me to take a morning swim in the nearby lake.  That morning I saw clear blue sky and sun for the first time since arriving in the South, and it was an amazing sight.  The lake itself was fit for a dream the water was so glassy.  The water was utterly icy, but afterwards, standing alone in the morning sun in complete quiet, I had one of those "wow" moments for which I have been searching.  

We picked a shirtload of murta berries on the way home--the guys wanted to make jam for our trip.  Before leaving, I paid my dues by helping to erect a mobile greenhouse.  After four months without any sort of gainful employment, it felt great to get my hands (very) dirty and get something done.  The trip out to the farm was extremely rejuvenating after so many cities, and I think it is a good omen for the trip ahead.