A few months ago, I was talking to another volunteer who told me that she wasn’t too worried about eating vegetables here, because everything grown in Jamaica is organic. There seem to be a lot of people laboring under the TERRIBLY misguided notion that because Jamaica is a developing nation, all of it’s agriculture is organic. I get this alot from Jamaicans, too, who tell me that the reason I look so good is because Jamaicans only eat organic food.
NOTHING COULD BE FURTHER FROM THE TRUTH.
Yes, there is limited availability of organic produce here, but you have to know where to look, because the movement is still in it’s infant stages, and reliable certification is a ways off yet.
But the produce you buy at the market, or on the street, or at the supermarket, or handed to you by your neighbor? That is almost certainly laden with some serious petrochemicals. The big ag chem companies have their teeth in the developing world and have convinced the countries that can afford it least (not that any nation, eco-system, culture, what have you, can really afford ‘conventional’ agriculture’s myriad negative impacts) that they NEED these petro-based fertilizers, insectides, and herbicides. These chemicals create a vicious cycle of debt and environmental depletion, and obviously, pose serious health risks for all involved.
The attitude towards weeds (or ‘bush’), molds, fungus, viruses and insects is uniform, and reminds me of a video shown to us during Pre Service Training. In the video (a sketch from a popular comedy show here), a bus driver is being given his certification test. The official asks the driver a number of situational questions, to which the driver gives the same answer: “ACCELERATE!” He passes. Not only does this accurately describe public transport in Jamaica, but it sums up agriculture here, as well. Except, of course, the answer to ANY problem is “SPRAY IT!”
Several times a week, I bear witness to this universal knee-jerk reaction, and any farmer you find here can reel off an impressive list of highly toxic chemicals. They may not be able to read the labels, but they have no problem using them- without proper protective clothing, mixing or application methods, and certainly no proper disposal. Just chuck the bottle full of poisonous residues into the bush, or by the side of the road.
Since arriving at site almost a year ago, I’ve been steadily pushing the idea of intercropping and IPM (integrated pest management ) at the farm.
There are many wonderful reasons to take this approach: increased productivity of crops, better flavor in vegetables and fruits, diversification of cultivated land (which deters pests and prevents soil ‘burnout’), it saves money ( unlike chemicals, which must be regularly applied, you plant something once, it generally stays there), and it reduces the need for those super harmful chemicals, which are bad enough when applied “safely”, and a million times worse when they aren’t.
My supervisor has been open, but it’s her husband, Ertis (or Mr D, as we all call him) who really runs the farm. Mr D is all about the chemicals, and when I’ve worked IPM into the conversations we have as we go about our business at the farm, he listens politely, and then promptly reaches for the Pegasus.
The problem, is of course, I’ve been doing a lot of telling, and farmers really pay attention to showing (as they should, agriculture is fickle mistress).
We have a field of cabbage, which was planted over the remnants of an old herb plot. The most prolific of the old herbs are a few patches of fennel, which cabbage moths and white flies hate. Most of our cabbage, which has been subjected to regular chemical baths, has fallen prey to the usual fate: giant holes in the outer leaves.
All the cabbage, in fact, except those planted near the fennel patches. It’s a remarkable difference, and I was glad that both Mr D and Aunty Mar (my supervisor) were there to see it, as well as my APCD and SSC, visiting from Kingston, thanks Ann and Dan! Today, as we were discussing planting strategies for our massive new greenhouse, Aunty Mar told me that Mr D spent the whole night shaking his head in wonder over the miracle of the fennel, he was so amazed and excited about it.
Ladies and gentleman, nothing like hard evidence to get a farmer to consider changing his ways.
Also, for the love of god, WASH YOUR VEGETABLES HERE.
