ShanHui invited us to visit Susan, a friend from my OM coaching days, for old time’s sake. We embarked their minivan and began the journey. As we drove closer, the tense filled the car. They wanted to tell us everything but not ruin any. I, on the other hand, was eager to see Nickie. She was an early teenager when I coached her. A decade later, she came back from a 4-month trip to Beijing, fluent in Chinese.
The car turned and we were all of a sudden away from sub-urban normalcy. Neighbors are now miles apart; boarding is meant for horses; asphalt became gravel; green, instead of concrete grey, dominates the land; animals: horses — cows, and deer — outnumber human beings. Prolific Oven’s chocolate cake seemed so urban.
The house at the destination is near the center of a 6-acre land. Susan and Nickie came out and we exchanged hugs; the little girl is now a skinny young lady, her blond hair has turned almost black, still wavy. She smiles like Princess Diane and puts her hands in the back pockets. We chatted as if we were just together at John Muir School campus, not 12 years, but mere hours ago.
Susan showed off her farm. Grapes were crunched here, fermented there, pressed in that machine, and secondarily fermented in that cold room. We walked on soft and trapping dirt, with shoes unfit for the surface. Fred showed us his grafting experiment, irrigation setup, bird prevention device, guide-wire design, and roses for mold detection. This is argricultural.
In the kitchen, Nickie served authentic LongJing tea she bought at Westlake, HangZhou. Our cakes were excellent with the hot tea. We talked about China, the world, kids, and future. I learned that, for the 1st time, Susan was from the South, deep South.
I always knew, intellectually, that farming is hard. This trip is a direct and personal proof. An acre of grapevine requires manual labor beyond this city slicker is capable of providing. It also requires professional knowledge and hand-on practicing, akin to a medical education followed by the internship. Even with all those, there are factors impossible to prepare for: drought, weather, pests, etc. Farming requires investment of money, labor, and heart. The returns are largely unpredictable.
Back at home, I watched rain falling on my backyard lawn; the gardener comes Wednesday to mow. Monty, my lap-dog, cannot chase, dig, or hunt anything. He is as useless in the farm as myself. I think I will visit Susan often, better than having a vineyard myself.
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