The Lost Post of Waihi Bush Farm

I wrote the below without internet, so it never was posted, but here it is anyway...

So I left the Palmers’ behind. I was glad and sad to go at the same time. On one hand their place had begun to be the most comfortable place I have been to outside of Minnesota. On the other hand I am not in New Zealand to get comfortable. Adventure is what I came for, and a new place was the ticket. So here I am at the Waihi Bush Farm in Geraldine listening to a recording of the Toe Jam from St. Paul. A little slice of home to accompany a great big foreign blog post.

I had a conversation today about how the greatest challenge to continuous WWOOFing is acclamation. When I arrived at the Palmers’, I arrived into a way of life, something which is alike in every household to some extent, but also guaranteed to be unique. Its been quite fun to observe at the Waihi Bush Farm a drastically different lifestyle, but the rudimentary practices are constant. The family of the owner, David, has lived on this land for almost 150 years. That is quite a large chunk of New Zealand’s history, and luckily the family chose to maintain a large swath of native forest, the only such swath in the area. David and his four sons built the current homestead relatively recently. The walls of the house give the impression of medium sized rocks stacked up with concrete in between. On top of those sits an abundance of skylights and a large slanting green roof. The back veranda opens up into a large field with a path leading to the river that flows through the bush. Follow the river a little way and it pores into a large pool that is perfect for swimming. Ice cold crystal clear water. Walk out the house in the other direction and you have the option of heading down a dirt road lined with gigantic redwood-type trees or to the goat pasture.

They love their goats around here. Every morning starts with a milking. Some milk goes on cereal, some in the fridge, and the remainder begins the cheese making process. I have tried my hand at milking the past couple of mornings. It obviously takes practice. I can’t milk half the speed of the experienced milkers, but I’m not worried about it. Enough mornings here and I would be a championship milker. They also eat their goats apparently. One of the first things I saw when I arrived was a goat carcus hanging in the garage and later the lower halves of two legs lying in the lawn, left for the dog. They have a pet sort of relationship with them as well. They all have names and personalities all their own. The thing I like about them is that they always look as though they are smiling.

We’ve been working really hard the past couple of days to prepare for the Waihi Bush Music Festival. David has been hosting the festival for years. It usually attracts about 300 people who love to hear and play folk music. It seems as though the feel for folk music here is more contemporary than I am accustomed to. The folk music I play in Minnesota is played with a more traditional approach. Songs are played with an eye to the past. At this festival I am anticipating a lot of music focused more on the present and future, new and original music in other words, but that remains to be seen. As for the work to prepare for the festival, we have had long and tough days, but there is always plenty of good food to go around, and there is a feeling that once the festival begins we will be able to take it easy a little more. Though the work may be hard, it is fun and rewarding. Today I loaded a silo with linseed, dug a water trench, trimmed trees along the road, and put together the stage for the festival. Tomorrow we will raise the tent that will keep the festival audience dry and comfortable. I am excited for that. I am sure everyone will be involved, a very social task. I best be getting some sleep.