Contrasts: China teaching — NZ local food preaching.

I wrote this as a reply to a blog post from a guy who runs a great podcast on permaculture, new food systems, urban farming, all that good stuff. I thought I should post it here. But you can see it in context here (moderation permitting).

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I’ve listened to hours of your shows but I’m blanking on your name. That’s a bad start. You haven’t signed off on this post (a great one) and if I go looking for your name to thank you as I should I’d likely get distracted and not come back to this. That’s one symptom of the problem you’re writing about, and one I share. It’s easy to become distracted when you don’t have that core passion, that thing in your blood, that thing that everything else can be built on. It made me happy to read Nancy’s reply, to see that farmers are people that also exist on the internet, that are sharing this space with the dreamers and the want-to-be’s. That when you are living that life you may be out on the front porch in a rocking chair, but you can also have a MacBook in your lap, reading how the farming lifestyle is now a somewhat normalized fetish for urban 20-something’s. Over the course of today I’ve listened to shows on the first world war, Chinese economic trends, fiction writing, and urban farming. Some people have careers in all of these things, and I’ve daydreamed about trying to join them, make your interests your job and all that, but this is the only show, the only community, I’m writing in to.

I’m an English teacher in China. I don’t wear a shirt and tie to work, in fact I hardly do work. It’s not a difficult job. It leaves lots of time that could theoretically be used in pursuit of my passion, but just as working for the man can make you into someone else, the act of teaching here is nothing but kabuki theatre. Transforming yourself into someone parents want to see, saying what they want to hear. It’s made me weak, it’s made me bitter.

Before I was following my passion. Working with farmers, producers, people who made a thing and sold it, and if the consumer of that thing liked it, they could look the maker right in the eye, shake their hand, and say thanks. Being young I could be aware I loved doing that work, but didn’t know how to value it, didn’t know yet how much better it was than anything I’ve done since. Shouldn’t have left it. Soon, but not soon enough when counting the days, I’ll leave China, and I’ll go to England, a different place then either of my dual US/NZ homes, but a world away from here. I’ll try to get that feeling back. Making something, selling it, looking that other person in the eye and knowing the value of the job I’ve done, that’s driving me forward through the daily frustrations of life in China.

Your shows, the Urban Farmer especially, have helped me greatly. To leave this rant here on your site may be small contribution, or none at all, but the feeling of connection I had with your writings I couldn’t help but express.

Thank you,

Mark.