Reflections on a Vote IV

This entry was inspired by my uncle, written in response to his “Reflections on a Vote I, II, and III.”

These days, I sit by a window, grey skies outside are illuminated by a distant sun. It is hard to imagine that the sun exists through the grey, convinced only by the light which flows and ebbs with the hour. How much time passes is a mystery, except for the light. Inside the window, I sit within beige, sterile walls. Carpet absorbs the sound of every footstep. I read a decade-old text, citing research one or two or more decades old. The text is still valid, despite its age. Little has changed.

These days, I glance about the room – anonymous faces focused similarly on texts, or computer screens. No one talks to anybody; we are in a library after all, but many are completely unaware of their surroundings. Focused on their media or plugged into their music. A cell phone rattles on the desk to indicate a text message received. Fingers move quickly over a keyboard while someone chats online. Correspondence without correspondence; we put on blinders to the people around us, yet find instant gratification in someone virtual. Much has changed.

These days, I put on my coat when the sun goes down, and I exit into a dark, anonymous world. I try to forget the challenges of my day, the knowledge lost in concepts misunderstood, from a text decades old. Anonymous faces pass me in the dark, and beyond those faces, rest in those minds, challenges beyond my own. Or, are they mine, too? While I sit, confined by sterile walls, among others in a virtual world, are not the challenges of men whose jobs were lost, elderly whose health has failed, babies whose voices were unheard, women and minorities whose lives were marginalized, and soldiers who live far, far away not my challenges, too? Are we not one world, one body? Are we not also victims when our brothers and sisters have been victimized? What is change, after all?

These days, I sit by a window, a day anew, and I think of how to be a steward of the earth and for others. How can I be a force for change?

Editorial: The Need for Soil Quality Research and Policy

Sometimes I get asked about my work. Sometimes people hear 'soil' and don't ask any more questions. In an effort to learn how to better communicate my work, I took a science communication course this last semester. Here is an example editorial that I wrote as my final project:

“This isn’t dirt,” he asserted to an attentive class. “It is soil.” While he said this, my instructor let a handful of dark, earthly aromatic, crumbly soil fall through his fingers. I, a skeptical undergraduate, had never heard the distinction and thought it was all just semantics. Why the stipulation? Status, I thought. To be called a ‘dirt scientist’, I would admit, didn’t sound nearly as important as the alliterative ‘soil scientist.’ It didn’t take long, however, before I would agree that there was certainly a difference between dirt and soil.

While both words may denote basically the same meaning, I think it’s safe to say that they don’t connote the same thing. ‘Dirt’ can imply filth, something tread upon, even something lower in class – “dirt poor,” for example. ‘Soil,’ however, doesn’t have such extraneous meanings. Like air and water, it is an important part of our environment, and it deserves the respect of a respectable name.

Most of us understand the importance of studying air and water. These are environmental resources that we directly consume, and research on them has led to quantifiable standards for quality. Soil, on the other hand, lacks such standards, perhaps because it is not directly consumed. Without such quantifiable standards, soil is usually only labeled as “healthy” or “unhealthy” at best, where a healthy soil has many desirable characteristics, and essentially, an unhealthy soil lacks those characteristics. Just think of the societal confusion if we only labeled air and water as “healthy” or “unhealthy”.

The ambiguity of soil quality, or health, is alarming given recent data on soil degradation. The UN Environmental Program on Global Assessment of Soil Degradation reported that 40% of agricultural land has been degraded due to human activity and that 6% is in such a state that only major capital investment could restore it to its original, productive capacity (Oldeman, 1994). In a report by the National Research Council (1993), protecting soil quality was deemed as important as protecting air and water quality and considered integral to national environmental policy. The report goes on to recommend to the USDA and USEPA that there be quantifiable standards and cost-effective monitoring methods to evaluate the impacts of farm management on soil health. Such standards would help codify soil protection policy.

Soil protection policy is not new in the United States, but it, too, has often been ambiguous. The USDA began urging soil protection in the 1890’s when abandonment and westward expansion were the cure for deteriorated land, but it wasn’t until 1936, with the Soil Conservation and Domestic Allotment Act (SCDAA), that there was legislation to protect soil quality. This act only supported soil conservation tangentially, however. While it paid growers for taking poor quality land out of production, it was actually a commodity-control policy in disguise and aimed primarily at reducing crop surpluses and mitigating falling commodity prices. In the 1970’s, when commodity prices sky-rocked, the government essentially abandoned the SCDAA and promoted the expansion of agricultural production, often at the expense of soil quality. Without clear definitions for quality it was easy to demean soil conservation policy. So, while ‘dirt’ had left the lexicon of soil conservation policy, there was still no status for soil.

More recently, soil scientists have attempted to change this. Some attempts at defining soil quality have been mostly theoretically – implying both agricultural productivity and environmental stewardship – but applied field research takes the theory and defines standards for soil health in relation to cropping systems. Studies in annual crops suggest using certain sets of tests – like pH, compaction, microbial activity, among others – to quantify soil health. Quantified standards allow for ratings of various land management practices which optimize agricultural productivity and environmental sustainability. In orchards and vineyards, however, management and timescale are quite different, and little work has been done to define proper management for these perennial crops. That is the gap that my work stands to fill. It is not known whether the methods for quantifying soil quality in annual crop systems would be appropriate for orchards and vineyards. Developing methods for testing soil quality in these perennial systems could attract a new community of growers to take interest in soil health.

Some growers are already convinced of the importance of studying soil quality on their farms. Jay H. – a Lake Erie region grape grower – is one of them. “I am absolutely convinced that maintaining soil health is extremely (even critically) important in sustaining the long-term productivity of any vineyard (or other crop for that matter).” For those needing more persuasion, interest in soil quality could be augmented if research shows a relationship between soil health and their bottom line. Management practices which enhance soil health would gain popularity if soil quality was linked with crop productivity or land value. Providing evidence that soil health improves yield and land value could give growers further incentive to manage soil in ways which enhance soil health.

The aforementioned report by the National Research Council indicates the need for environmental policy to monitor soil quality, and the report challenges that “research should be directed at the design of market-based incentives to protect soil quality.” This is the intent of my work. My hope is for growers to be proactive in monitoring their soil’s quality, determining standards, and even helping to develop policy such that they are rewarded for land stewardship. Air and water have quantifiable standards for safety and health. Soil, as another component of the biosphere, will likely have them in the future, and by using environmental, economic, and policy incentives, there will be more than just semantics separating dirt and soil.

References:

National Research Council. 1993. Soil and Water Quality: An Agenda for Agriculture Committee on Long-Range Soil and Water Conservation. Board on Agric., National Resource Council. National Academy Press: Washington, D.C.

Oldeman, L.R. 1994. The Global Extent of Soil Degradation. In: Soil Resilience and Sustainable Land Use. D.J. Greenland and I. Szabolcs, ed. CAB Int.: Wallingford, Oxon, England.

Time Lived and Time to be Lived

I wrote the following for the Janus Essays contest (www.janusessays.org). Submissions in other creative forms were also accepted, and I felt what I had to say was better suited to free-form poetry. The theme of the contest was "Time Lived and Time to be Lived".

Time Lived and Time to be Lived – Like a Blossom Opening

As the winter departs
the time lived is a faint, cold memory and
the time to be lived is the radiance of spring.
The blanket of snow now gone
reveals a carpet of green grass.
The trees are still skeletons –
their transient state before green ornaments adorn their limbs.
The birds have returned and
red-breasted robins hop about;
their songs wake me from morning sleep.
The crocuses are emerging,
to be followed by daffodils, azaleas, and apple blossoms.

As the apple trees bloom
the time lived are the months since their last bloom
and the time to be lived are the months until their next.
Hues of pink – some shades as vivid as the sunset –
attract bumbling bees who dance in life-advancing pollen.
Petals fall,
tiny fruits swell –
hardly recognizable as Mother Nature’s candy come fall.
A summer thunderstorm,
a summer drought –
both present hardship to the pendant orbs as they size, sweeten, and color.
Meticulous care and attention will ensure that most make their way
to fall fruition,
transformed from tree décor to fulfilling harvest for farmer and consumer alike.

Memory has it that
the time lived were cycles around the harvest at home amidst family
when the time to be lived was still an open book in which
many could inscribe but only I could illustrate.
Inspiration was taken from blessings which surrounded.
The sun rose in a different place then –
from behind jagged peaks, its accent unhurried as if
slowed by dew-laden air.
I may never have come to know this time of day
when nocturnal animals retire,
had it not been for the life into which I was born.
A family spirited by long hours of gratifying work in the sun’s domain,
the earth cycling on its axis and in its orbit.
A family rooted literally in its livelihood and figuratively in its history in that place.
A family spirited by the love, peace, and hope from One and one another –
inter-connected like a spider’s web.
Yes, indeed, from this I drew my inspiration.

Now in this place
the time lived means nothing unless
used to inspire and cultivate the time to be lived.
A world uncertain in safety and security,
it takes a certain optimism, a certain hope to see that these do not conquer.
Yet, so small,
how can I make a difference?
Petals fall to issue fruit;
care must be taken to ensure an environment conducive to
these things that many take for granted but others wish to have.
Clean water, air, and soil to nourish body and crop – these are within my realm and
beyond my realm.
These could be my contribution so that
the time lived does not hinder the time to be lived.
Beyond early mornings amidst family, imminent springs to subsequent falls,
beyond pink petals, red fruit, and
a red robe with much pomp and circumstance,
the time to be lived goes beyond me to a community of world and nature.
The time to be lived is like a blossom opening.

Vines and Wines in Chile

This blog started as a journal of my travels, and with this post, it continues as such. I had the fortunate opportunity to travel to Chile over spring break - my third trip to that spectacular country. What gave me such fortune? I am currently the Teaching Assistant for a viticulture class, and when the instructor won a grant to take students down to learn about Chilean vines and wines, I was asked to accompany the group. Granted, because I had previously lived in Chile, I was tasked with planning the trip, making arrangements, and upon arrival, navigating and translating. But, I'm not jaded; it was a free trip, after all.

Haggard from over-night travel, two professors, seven undergrads, and I arrived in Santiago at 5:30am on Sunday, March 16. We passed through Customs, collected our rental van, and ventured into downtown Santiago with, what we came to realize, a faulty GPS unit which had its rights and lefts confused. (Don't ask me how or why, as this was the source of many frustrations which I'd prefer to forget.) Thus, navigating the streets of Santiago - complete with bicycles, carts, and reckless drivers - was a challenge, but we made our way to the hostel and checked-in. One of the guys behind the counter - not realizing my familiarity of Chilean slang - said to the other with a wry smirk after hearing my name, "Michelle es el nombre de mi polola." I replied, "Si? De tu polola? De la presidenta tambien." He quickly retracted, "No, no tengo polola." They didn't try to pull any more fast ones on me after that.

Despite our lack of sleep, we ventured into Santiago for a day of site-seeing with my lab mate's sister, Gabriela. We went to the Plaza de Armas, the Cathedral, and la Moneda (President's Palace). Then we went to Barrio Bellavista - considered the artsy, bohemian neighborhood of Santiago - for lunch. We finished up the daylight hours with touristy "must-dos" - riding the funicular (cable car) and teleferico (gondola) up and about Cerro San Cristobal for marvelous views of the city. Fortunately, the infamous smog of Santiago was not too thick to impair our view. After all this, many were tired, so we went back to the hostel, and everyone else called it a night. I, however, went out with Gabriela to a restaurant in my old neighborhood - Providencia - and we ate manchas and drank pisco sours.

On Monday, our program of university, vineyard, and winery tours began. We collected an unfortunate parking ticket for our windshield before we hit the road for the Antumapu campus of the University of Chile, on the rough, southeast side of Santiago. Littered streets and stray dogs abounding in this neighborhood, the agriculture campus of the university was once in the countryside before city sprawl pushed poor residents in its direction. Nonetheless, the University of Chile is renowned for its agriculture programs, and it was on this campus - in the Department of Food Science and Enology - that I worked two years ago. My former supervisor, Alvaro, welcomed us, gave us a talk on the Chilean wine industry and grape-growing regions, and then showed us the enology facilities.

I will comment briefly on the Chilean wine industry and grape-growing regions, as this will help in understanding the rest of this post. First, the Chilean wine industry is predominately an export-driven industry. Chile has garnered world-wide reputation for producing quality wines, sold at reasonable prices. Domestic wine consumption is low, and domestic sales are not profitable. Grape-growing exists in the central valley - the backbone of Chile, running north/south - and in transverse valleys, running perpendicular to the central valley and spanning from the Andes to the coast. The wine regions of Chile are named for these transverse valleys, and starting in the north and going south, the ones that we visited were Aconcagua, Casablanca, Maipo, Colchagua, and Maule. Snow melt from the Andes provides surface irrigation water to these vineyards planted in alluvial soils.

Concha y Toro is the largest wine enterprise in Chile, and wines of their various labels are easily found in the United States. Contrast this to those of Haras de Pirque, which is a boutique winery that focuses on quality, not quantity. These were the two vineyards/wineries that we visited in the Maipo valley after finishing our visit at the University of Chile. Given my research in soils, I was interested to learn that, at both Concha y Toro and Haras de Pirque, soil quality is of utmost concern. They described their "terroir" as being among the best in Chile, and evidenced their gravelly-loams to us when we walked through the vineyards. While we did not try any wines at Concha y Toro, I would have to say that the Cab Sauvs we tried at Haras de Pirque were my favorite wines of the entire trip.

We drove to the coast that evening and stayed in a hostel in Viña del Mar. The hostel was typically Chilean - a family's home which they expanded to include guest rooms. While it was not glamorous, it was perfectly-located and the staff was very friendly. (Although, I can't say that we met a single, unfriendly person on the entire trip. And from my previous trips, I know Chileans to be nothing less than humble, kind, and giving.)

Tuesday, we toured the Casablanca and Aconcagua valleys. As we made our way to Casablanca, a missed exit meant arriving upon a toll booth. Justine was driving but doesn't speak a word of Spanish. She rolled down the window for me to speak to the attendant. I said that we had missed our exit and just needed to turn-around. Yes, this was awkward, but what was more awkward was what proceeded. Rather than let us through the gate so that we may turn-around, the attendant left her booth and started signaling to the long line of traffic which had gathered behind us to back-up and move to another lane. Oh, gosh. That was embarrassing. Then, we backed up as well and made a suicidal U-turn through orange cones and got ourselves going back the way we had come to our desired exit. Chileans are crazy drivers, and their influence was rubbing off on us. We arrived at Veramonte vineyards laughing hysterically at the incident which had just passed.

The Casablanca valley where Veramonte is located is renowned for its white wines. White varieties grow well in this cooler valley, which receives coastal fog and breezes. This differs from the hotter and drier Aconcagua valley, which we visited in the afternoon. First, we went to the agriculture experiment station of the Catholic University of Valparaiso. The director of the station - Eduardo - is a Cornell alum and was happy to show us their citrus, avocado, and cherry plantings. Then, we visited the vineyards of Errazuriz - the oldest winery in Chile. We saw two sites and learned about their vine and soil management practices for the steep, hillside plantings. Here, vine rows go with the slope, instead of being terraced across the slope. It was explained that terracing actually does more damage by moving/removing topsoil than planting with the slope.

After two full days of visits and much driving, Wednesday was scheduled as a free-day. I took advantage of the time to see my "Chilean mom", Betty, and go for a run along the coasts of Viña and Reñaca. Our lunch plan was to go as a group to my advisor's favorite seafood restaurant in Valparaiso - the sister, port city of Viña del Mar. Knowing that traffic and parking in Valpo can be difficult, I suggested that we take a "micro" (bus) instead of driving ourselves. Taking buses was commonplace for me when I lived in Chile. I didn't have a car, so I took public transportation everywhere. However, I forgot that the buses can be a bit intimidating to a novice - like the other members of my group. Some of the students were dismayed by the (lack of) cleanliness, obvious PDA of young people, and reckless merging of the driver. Nevertheless, we made it to the restaurant unscathed. Our patient waiter smiled as I translated menu items and ordered for everyone in the group. Then, from the patio, we watched the fisherman bring in their catch while we ate our meal. After another bus ride back to our van in Viña, we loaded up and headed south about four hours to the town of Santa Cruz, in the valley of Colchagua.

The town of Santa Cruz was recently revitalized due to the wine industry of Colchagua and the wealth of a locally-raised millionaire, who will remain nameless. A glamorous hotel and natural history museum of private collection are evidence of this man's wealth, which according to the U.S. Customs Office, was achieved through international arms manufacturing and dealing to Iraq during the Reagan administration. But all of those are just factoids; we did not spend much time in Santa Cruz itself, but instead toured the valley renowned for red cultivars. Cab Sauv, Merlot, Carmenere (*the* variety of Chile), and various others are grown and made into varietal wines and blends. Our first visit on Thursday was to Viñedos Organicos Emiliana, and in my opinion, this was the most fascinating of all our visits. VOE is a biodynamic vineyard. Without going into too much detail, biodynamic farming is unique system. It was developed in 1924 by Rudolph Steiner, and beyond the organics of not using synthetic chemicals, biodynamic farming also means using fermented herbal and mineral preparations in composts and sprays, and using an astrological planting and practice calendar. This system of production requires much time and dedication! Interestingly, VOE does not put "biodynamic" on their wine labels, which means they grow their grapes this way because they believe in it, not for a market advantage. Before our afternoon visit, we lunched at a road-side restaurant, which I mention only because I drank fresh juice made of prickly-pear cactus. Delicious! Our second visit was to Viña Estampa, which specializes in blends. After this visit, we made our way further south to the Maule Valley.

Our group was fortunate to have a contact in the Maule Valley just outside of San Rafael. There is a Cornell student in Food Science whose family owns a large vineyard/winery in this region, called Via Wines. When we arrived on Thursday evening, we took a tour of the winery facilities. The factory-style operation was different from anything seen in the Finger Lakes region of NY. On subsequent days, we toured the vineyards with the vineyard manager and had a tasting with the head enologist. It was gracious of them to give their time since this was Holy Week/Easter weekend, and these are important holidays in Chile.

Our hosts were very generous to us in time, accommodation, and comfort. The house where we stayed was a beautifully-restored relic; we ate traditional Chilean food (including my favorite pastel de choclo); and we made our way on some roads-less-traveled to hike the Andes at Altos de Lircay national reserve.

Though it probably needn't be said, it was an amazing trip with great culture, adventure, learning, and of course, wine. Some of that wine even made its way back to the States and may be coming to a dinner party near you. Pictures are posted to my Shutterfly account. Enjoy!

Getting Back on Track

It has been a long time. After a year and a half of not posting, I'm finally getting back on track. Is it shameful that my impetus is a course assignment? I am currently enrolled in a science communication course, for which each student is required to start a blog. While mine was started years ago, I learned that I have broken the cardinal rule of blogging: concise and frequent posts. While I understand that such writing has much appeal to the multi-tasking, attention-diverted, on-the-move individual, I don't work in sound bites. Rule-breaker I may be, but my entries will continue to narrate all that I have to say, though with hope, more frequently than they have the last year and a half.