What a Challenge!
After taking part in @kiaraantonoviche's first homesteading challenge, explaining my reasons for being a homesteader, I thought it's a given to continue with her second challenge: telling my most embarrassing homesteading story. Revealing my innermost secrets? Telling the world about how and when I messed up, made a fool of myself, or got in a situation I'm not so proud of? No problems there! I actually get a great kick out of it (let me get my clothes off right now!), so that's not the hard part. But actually coming up with such a story, that actually happened, and caused me embarrassment... that's the real challenge. Still, I don't want to miss out on participating, so let me see what memories I can come up with.
A Long Time Ago, in an Eco-Village Far Far Away...
This story took place in an eco-village in New Zealand, where I spent some time wwoofing, a good decade or so ago. For those who don't know, wwoofing (world wide opportunities on organic farms) is an amazing way to get to know farms and farmers, learn about alternative techniques, and share the abundance of experiences with other homesteaders, and those who want to be. The hosts receive willing helpers, who in turn work in exchange for food and lodging. The fun, the personal connections, and information exchange is all on top of that.
So I arrived at the community, and was housed in the wwoofers' lodge, a cozy little cottage with its own veggie garden. There I met my fellow wwoofers, a great mix of five international travelers, gardening enthusiasts, free thinkers, hippies, foodies, and over-all awesome people. I hit it off right away with them. Our days were relatively chilled. Each day we had to do some work in various pats of the village, but it left us ample of time to tend to the wwoofers' garden, from where we would gather most of our food, prepare our meals, and enjoy them together. It was hobbit heaven. I felt right at home.
So What's the Embarrassing Part?
One day we were called to do some orchard work, sometime in the late morning. Eager beavers that we were, we wasted no time in getting ready to give our best, as always. However, stepping outside the cabin I noted how the light drizzle that had been going on all morning was turning heavier. It wasn't really cold, but it was clear we'd get quite wet, so I asked my companions to wait for me while I put on my rain gear. I hate getting soaked, especially when working outside, so I was well prepared: my boots have been recently fed with mink-oil, so I was set in that regard. I just had to put on a good rain jacket and a pair of waterproof pants (very useful in New Zealand). Then I stepped outside to see …
… all five of my wwoofing mates waiting for me, standing in the rain, wearing nothing but a big smile!
Did I mention, I have no problem with nudity. On the contrary: I consider it an expression of honesty, equality, trust, naturalness … a number of philosophical concepts, I could probably fill entire (future) posts with. The point is, whenever it is acceptable to take off our clothes, I'm the first one to do so. But in this case, I must have looked like a victim of prudery, caught up in the cultural compulsion to cover up my body. Like someone not realizing that wearing clothes, ANY clothes, would just get them so much wetter in the long run. As opposed to the others, who were enjoying their natural shower while it would last, then let the rain flow off their naked bodies, and instantly dry in the soft breeze. To rub it all in, they started pointing out all of these facts to me, things I couldn't agree with more. As I was taking off all my gear, and everything underneath, I was stumbling over my own words trying to explain that I actually have the same mindset, normally.
Hoping I would not make myself look any more stupid, I relaxed as they laughingly admitted that it was their plan to throw me into this situation when I ran in to put on something for the rain. I joined in their laughter, and once we all were free from any unnecessary fiber, we set out towards the orchard, our bodies glistening in the rain. So in the end this story was filed away in my mind as a happy memory, far from actual embarrassment. For the homesteading challenge, though, I think it should be just perfect. Now, let me see if I can find some pictures... I got some native birds (a tui and a weka) taken at the same eco-village, and appropriately, neither of them is wearing a stitch of clothing!
