5 years on, an apprentice story.
By Anthony Wijeyeratne (Shea), Apprentice 2015
It’s approaching five years since I started my apprenticeship at Rancho Mastatal. Looking back at the last five years lot of life has been lived, with many joys, personal development breakthroughs, and vulnerabilities, that at times felt so heavy, or were unbearably light. However my time in Mastatal was a game changer, I came from an office environment to a ranch in the jungle, which eventually led me to find my passion for food that I turned into a farming career. I hope this is just the beginning of an ever-expanding life involved with food.
Being disgruntled and immersed in office culture, I felt my life was stagnant, and I needed a change. An opportunity presented itself, when I got an offer to be an apprentice at Rancho Mastatal. I accepted without hesitation and embarked on a year-long journey to learn about sustainable living.
My time at the ranch I met many amazing, and talented people, learned a set of skills that applies to a lot of what I am doing now, and got an amazing hands on education in cooking, fermenting, natural building and various system designs. However the biggest takeaway was from silencing myself, and turning into a listener, and observer. The Ranch gave me an opportunity to learn not just from great instructors, but also from my self, and about myself. It thought me how to be bored and turn that boredom to an enjoyable solitude of productivity, and critical thinking, which changed and expanded my perspective on everyday happenings in my day-to-day life. I was reading more books than I had ever read, which made me appreciate learning in silence so much more, and as well, I explored my creativity in the world of food, and writing.
I’m sure there are many positive testimonials about the ranch, but this is important, because it shaped me in getting to where I am now. Currently I am farmer for the YMCA, growing fruits, veggies and flowers for a 70 plus member CSA on a small-scale 3.5 acre farm. I have also decided to put myself in a vulnerable position to start my own business, and lease a piece of land to grow my own specialty veggies for restaurants.
Being vulnerable willingly can be difficult, but it can also be rewarding, and I learned a lot of that at the ranch. Pushing through jobs I wasn’t keen on or interested in, having difficult conversations with fellow apprentices because communal living can be straining, and coming across bittersweet realizations on the many realities of how being sustainable is difficult, and sometimes not the best or obvious option. My romancing, created a vulnerability I didn’t see coming, I was in a strange paradox. On one hand I was ideal and ready to learn and demonstrate the virtue of sustainability, on the other hand I was naïve, and ignorant to the realities of it, and that sometimes being sustainable won’t be the best option. This was a necessary realization, and the good folks at the ranch demonstrated, that they are not perfect or do have the best systems, but they try, and sometimes you have to compromise, and maybe later on down the road there will be an opportunity to remove yourself of that compromise.
Allowing my self to be vulnerable and crawling out of the vulnerabilities was at times how I felt my world needed to be. This can be both good, and bad. Good because I was determined to see my situations for what they were and learn, and improve from it, and finish what I started. It also helped me to be more resilient and resourceful. Bad because I was willingly accepting these vulnerable circumstances without critically thinking if there was a better option, and almost putting myself in a repetitive mental cycle. It almost brought me to a place where I gave myself a low ceiling.
My first farm experience after my year at the ranch was an internship at Foxglove Farm in British Columbia, where I earned a meager stipend of $500/month with room and board. This I romanticized, and it was easy to. Foxglove was a beautifully manicured farm with intelligent systems design that really showed me what the potential of and efficient and effective small-scale farm is capable of. But Foxglove also kicked my ass. I always felt I got drafted as a hot prospect and turned out to be a dud. I had no idea what I got myself into, and it was so overwhelming and much more physically demanding than I anticipated, I really wasn’t sure if I fit in this world. The only thing I knew is that I had to finish the season, keep trying and most of all learn. Although my time at foxglove came to premature end in September, I was determined to finish the season off, and found employment on another farm. In a strange way it was a weird accomplishment.
I came back to my home province of Ontario, determined to have a presence in the world of food. In the offseason, I worked at a restaurant and applied for various farm hand positions. Somehow I got offered a position growing vegetables for an order of Canada Chef. I don’t know how? I took the job because it was glamorous and exciting, but I made myself immensely vulnerable yet again. The farm barely had any infrastructure for growing crops. No nursery, no irrigation, no washing station, and old farm equipment that were not effective for the soil I was working on. Also, what am I doing growing veggies for one of Canada’s best chef’s? This could ruin me if I mess up. To add to that we had the wettest spring on record, and fell further behind on planting. On top of this, I discovered the strain of lightness, Growing veggies and putting in the labor, no problem. Being patient and allowing things to unfold however was unbearable, and to make it worse the chef and his staff were amazing individuals who made an amazing effort to integrate me, which created some guilt, and pressure to not let down these wonderful people. Somehow, it worked out. It wasn’t ideal, but I did it on my own, and was able to produce quality food, for a nice 10 week run.
The following season I moved closer to my family and got my job with the YMCA. I decided on the YMCA, because of my two past experiences. One was a model farm, and the other was one starting from scratch. The YMCA on the other hand is a cross between the two previous. It’s a young developing farm with descent infrastructure and equipment, which allows me autonomy to grow, experiment, and develop with the farm. There is an expectation of growth every year, in terms of clients, food, and revenue. These are puzzles that motivate me to not settle and create plans to try and improve if there is a sensible way to do so. In my short time at the YMCA I have helped spearhead ideas to grow more food, on less land, to manage better, and yield less waste, and to put a sustainable stamp to protect and nourish the land, which grows the food.
Through all the changes and the difficulties since my departure from Mastatal, the internal skills I acquired from the ranch, never left me. I have a greater thirst for continuous learning, and my resilience to persevere and finish what I started is at its highest motivation ever. This wouldn’t have been possible if not for my time at the ranch, and the relationships that I forged with the ranch and its directors, especially former ranch director Scott Gallant, who has been a great mentor and friend since I left the ranch and returned to Canada.
I feel at this point, sky is the limit for me, and being vulnerable gives me the opportunity for great discovery and virtue. Oddly enough this is how I feel about food, and it makes me romance and idealize about breeding new varieties of veggies, growing mushrooms, making art by way of grafting fruit trees, fermenting everything, and cooking just for the sake of, “I wonder what that would taste like”. It’s the same MO, but I’m better prepared to listen to the outcomes of the actions I take, and solve the puzzles that come my way.
