Four Gifts from My Farm Internship

The third type is more subtle and relatively more complex to handle: reducing unnecessary human intervention. This includes minimising tilling and fertilising, and avoiding pesticides and weeding. Natural farming trusts in “natural power”, believing that excessive human intervention disrupts the ecological balance. Reducing intervention does not mean doing nothing; rather, it asks us to reduce or let go of certain greeds and obsessions, and to release the anxiety that things might be too few, too slow, or poorly grown.

For example, in conventional agriculture, the sight of pests or diseases often triggers panic and immediate intervention through the spraying of various pesticides. Similarly, chemical fertilisers are used heavily for fear that plants will lack nutrients and fail to grow. These practices can disrupt the ecological balance, leaving the soil, crops, and microorganisms in an unhealthy state, which in turn makes the soil and plants more susceptible to pests and diseases.

Ecological agriculture, and natural farming in particular, recognises that nature possesses an ecological balance where no single species “dominates the world”. For instance, while lychee trees may be attacked by lychee bugs, there are also natural predators that keep the bugs’ population in check. Thus, when faced with pests or diseases, the farm does not rush to eradicate them. If the soil or crop condition seems poor, the farm may use organic fertilisers such as worm castings. Mr Pengcheng explains that these fertilisers are similar in composition to the humus found in nature; unlike chemical fertilisers, they do not have excessively high levels of nitrogen or any single nutrient, which better helps the soil recover its inherent natural power and maintains a balance between the soil, crops, and microorganisms.

When we can let go of our obsessions and anxieties, calmly perceive what we truly need, and observe and learn from the laws of nature to understand what the crops require, we can then determine how to sacrifice and balance within the constraints of limited resources.

III. Gift Two: Simplicity and Serenity

After transplanting the tree, we sat down together to chat about my expectations for the internship and the division of household chores. Then came picking and washing vegetables, skipping with Wobwo, having dinner, and watching instructional videos on natural farming by Mr Roger. Finally, after getting ready for bed and checking a few messages on my phone, the lights went out and I fell asleep, concluding half a day of farm life in a leisurely rhythm.

At 7 o’clock the next morning, I woke up to begin a new day. The main tasks for the day were digging trenches and earthing up the maize. For the next month, I spent my time practising weed control, soil preparation, raising seedlings, sowing, fertilising, earthing up, mulching, and pruning under the guidance of Teacher Pengcheng and Huahua, while also sharing the household chores such as boiling water, picking vegetables, cooking, and cleaning.

Most of the labour at the farm wasn’t difficult for me; it was simply physically demanding. The only thing I found truly challenging was fruit tree pruning. There is no absolute standard, and it is quite complex, involving many professional terms and methods, such as topping, pinching, fruit thinning, removing side shoots, and heading back. There are many nuances regarding when to prune specific parts and exactly how to do it.

In the beginning, Teacher Pengcheng would demonstrate the techniques while explaining them to me. Many of the terms and knowledge points were difficult to grasp and memorise all at once, which left me feeling somewhat tense and anxious. Fortunately, Teacher Pengcheng was very patient, explaining things over and over again without tiring. He respected my learning pace and never rushed me to master the skills quickly just to help out, allowing me to learn and reflect with a relaxed mind. After listening a few more times, I gradually began to understand and could slowly try to judge how to prune for myself.

Sometimes, I was the only one at the farm, but I never felt lonely. I thoroughly enjoyed swinging my hoe while listening to the solar term podcasts titled “Tuanli Structure” recorded by several pioneers of ecological agriculture; other times, I would listen to nothing at all, simply squatting in the vegetable patch and weeding mindfully.

At other times, I would wander around the farm and its surroundings on my own to get to know the plants, or ride my electric scooter to the nearby Yinlin Farm to take part in activities. When I encountered the village aunties on the road, even if we were strangers, we would greet each other naturally!

I am the kind of person who easily becomes tense when doing things. At the farm, Huahua and I took turns cooking for everyone for one week each. Although I usually enjoy cooking, for the most part, I had only ever made simple, small portions for myself. Consequently, when it was my turn to cook, I felt quite nervous, worrying about what to make, whether it would taste good, or what to do if it took too long. In the beginning, I would decide on the menu a day in advance and then prepare the meals with a sense of trepidation.

Fortunately, Teacher Pengcheng and Huahua encouraged me to just go for it and trusted that I could do it well; sometimes Huahua would even share some cooking tips with me. After a couple of turns, I was no longer nervous.

Beyond the trust and encouragement from Teacher Pengcheng and Huahua, being close to the land in the beautiful farm and living at a slower pace were also vital reasons why I was able to feel at peace and composed.

When I finally relaxed, I began to enjoy the act of cooking. I could cook with ease, no longer needing to study recipes in advance as I had done before, but instead creating freely based on the available ingredients—taking a quick look at what vegetables the farm had, thinking simply about how to combine them, and then preparing the ingredients and tossing them in the pan.

Cooking this way brought me great joy and a sense of achievement; I often felt that my dishes were perfect in colour, aroma, and taste. Of course, there were several times when the food didn’t turn out well—for instance, burning the bottom of the shredded potatoes, having the fish skin stick to the pan, or making the mugwort egg soup taste quite bitter…

Over the last two years, my friends and I have become increasingly aware that when we are able to eat well, those days are usually pleasant, and our work tends to be more efficient. This is because when we can have three proper meals on time, it means we have a disciplined life, can set things to the right rhythm, and our energy remains relatively abundant and stable.

This made me realise that one of the most important meanings of focusing on agriculture and food systems is to return to a more complete life, and to become a more authentic, full, and enriched person.

But what does a “complete life” look like? I believe everyone has their own understanding and imagination. For me, a complete life is not just about work; at the very least, it includes eating, resting, and doing household chores;

A complete life means being able to personally participate in real, concrete things, rather than merely living in a “lofty” castle in the air; a complete life possesses a past, as well as a present and a future;

A complete life is when we can perceive and connect with our “nearby”, interacting with the people around us, rather than being frequently trapped at home or in the office, communicating with the outside world solely through a smartphone.

V. Gift Four: Acceptance and Adaptation

Accompanying my tendency to get tense is a knack for spotting problems—I am something of a “perfectionist” who often expects things to be done flawlessly. Yet, once something goes wrong, I easily become沮丧 (dejected). As a result, I often find myself trapped in a spiral of self-induced anxiety.

Now, I have discovered that the way to break this spiral is acceptance and adaptation; just as nature accepts all things, one must accept one’s own imperfections and everything that happens in the present moment! In this regard, I benefited greatly from Teacher Pengcheng and Huahua at the farm.

Pengcheng Natural Farm not only practices ecological agriculture but also previously ran a parenting cooperative—joining forces with several families in the village to raise children together. Although the cooperative had unfortunately come to a temporary end by the time of my internship, I still sensed the unique parenting philosophy of Teacher Pengcheng and Huahua.

One point I particularly admire is their emotional stability, which created an environment of love, acceptance, and encouragement for their daughter, Wobwo. For a while, Wobwo developed a resistance to going to school because she was being bullied at kindergarten. Teacher Pengcheng and Huahua did not rush to dismiss Wobwo’s feelings, nor did they rush to intervene and solve the problem themselves. Instead, they accepted and held space for Wobwo’s emotions, guiding her to face the situation bravely and thinking of ways to solve the problem together with her.

I am also someone who likes to dig deep and ask “why”, and this was true during my internship at the farm. I vividly remember a time when we were pruning lychee trees; I asked a few questions, and Teacher Pengcheng told me a great deal. One question concerned the growth characteristics of the lychee tree—something along the lines of “pruning lychee trees around August makes it easier for new shoots to grow back”. After hearing this, I naturally followed up by asking “why”, but this time Teacher Pengcheng did not answer. Instead, he told me not to ask why, saying that this is simply how nature is, and that one must adapt to nature; if I just observed, I would eventually understand.