Growing Among Lavender
I grew among the herbs at Largo Farm during the months of July and August. The bees buzzed around in droves, caressing the deep purple flowers of the lavender with gentle wings. Seeing so many yellow pollinators was, in this case, not a good sign. Their presence meant the lavender had flowered, indicating that we were not harvesting fast enough. But on Largo Farm we did not work quickly.
Similarly to Mrs. Shin (my previous host at OK Farm), my second host imo left her urban life in Seoul and moved to a rural farm village to improve her subjective well-being through organic farming. I quickly learned that was where the similarities between the two farms ended. While Mrs. Shin held onto the efficiency, productivity, and competition that defined the lifestyle of urban Korea, imo decided these ideals had no place in the life she was trying to foster.
“Modern Korea has driven all members to be a cog in the ever growing machine of society. Efficiency, diligence, and competition are the main driving forces that run the society.” — Oakla Cho, Journal of Asian Rural Studies
A term most often found in music, “largo” means to perform with a slow tempo, and it was at this speed that I was conducted to work during my stay at Largo Farm. On most mornings, I collected my clippers and red basket from the plastic house (known as a high tunnel in the United States), stepped into my weeding seat, and made my way to the herb garden.
I would snip for hours, laying each stem in the basket, consciously making sure they were all facing the same direction. The sound of my weeding seat scraping across the grey stones as I shuffled from bed to bed would periodically interrupt the music playing from the speaker at the edge of the garden. The melody from the piano and the warmth of the sun humming on my skin lulled me into a lavender scented trance that was only broken by the call for lunch.
Imo and I often worked together in the herb garden, but one day stands out in my memory. We were both working in tandem, snipping lavender, when she began to show concern for my upcoming trip to Seoul. She warned me to stay away from strangers and keep my wits about me, just as any mother would. Our conversation soon took a more serious tone when imo told me I was a beautiful, strong woman who should be confident in herself.
“Today she told me I was beautiful and strong so I should be confident…I was very happy to hear her say such kind things to me.” — July 17th, 2019
Hearing these words from someone who wasn’t under any obligation to say them, made me finally start to contemplate their validity. Imo wasn’t the only one to tell me I was beautiful while I was in Korea. A whole class of middle school girls stared at me in awe when I gave them a speech on career day, the woman who invited me to her apartment in Hongdae gushed over my youth, and all the children I met were enchanted by my eyes. I felt myself break free from the societal constructs I had adhered to all my life and finally begin to stand tall.
I will forever be in the process of growth, but after spending two months meeting strangers every week, speaking a new language, and adopting the mannerisms of a different culture, I began to thrive. These interactions were challenging, but they helped me improve my adaptability and practice the art of communication; they helped me grow as a human being.
References:
Cho, O. (2017). How migrants from cities become potential innovators in Korean rural communities. Journal of Asian Rural Studies, 1(1), 13. https://doi.org/10.20956/Jars.v1i1.720
Lee, H.-J. (2019). Does consumption of organic foods contribute to Korean consumers’ subjective well-being? Sustainability, 11(19), 5496. https://doi.org/10.3390/su11195496
