We have a 7-hectares (17-acres) farm consisting of several vineyards and various orchards: peaches, plums and apricots. Each fruit has a slightly different lifecycle, which means that we harvest from early summer to late fall. Moreover, each variety has different requirements and is prone to different pests and diseases; hence, we find ourselves continuously faced with different tasks. There is little down-time on our farm! Prior to moving to Argentina we employed a manager to oversee the property and a contratista who managed the day-to-day activities. Since profits on a small farm are marginal at best we decided to work with only the help of our contratista. We became our own managers in August of last year for simple economic reasons. It has been an interesting experience for better and for worse.

We knew nothing of farming; we managed our 1/2 acre garden in Longmont, containing various fruit trees and vegetable plots, in the secure knowledge that the grocery store around the corner and our day-time jobs would provide for our basic needs. I love gardening but our livelihood did not depend on it; I could skip chores, neglect tasks, abandon the crop according to mood, weather or whim. Here we cannot afford this luxury; barring natural calamities we have no excuse for crop failure, others besides ourselves depend on this land. Constant vigilance accompanies our work. We have complicated our lives immensely since leaving the States.

Our neighbors applauded our decision to take the farm into our own hands; they, on many occasions had urged us to do so; in their view nothing could be as simple as farming and having a manager was considered a waste of money. They promised their help, we just had to ask. The problem with this scenario is our lack of knowledge, we simply do not know what to ask and when. We scan our crops and check agricultural alerts; we listen to experts and so-called experts without knowing the difference! There is so much advice that we donot see the trees through the forest and in making choices we are not always aware of the implications nor of our preferences. We do not even know we have preferences until it hits us square in the face. The haircut we gave our apricot trees is a case in point.

We have about 45 apricot trees lining various sections of the vineyards. Older apricots are stately trees with large overhanging limbs which form an archway providing shelter for wildlife and protection from the blasting sun. In the shade grass manages to survive providing much needed coolness in the evening and a welcome break in the monotonous tan-colored stretches of soil. The grass, native to a desert climate, grows from ever-spreading tentacles which grasp the soil tightly preventing the wind from kicking it up. I like to linger under these trees, lounging in their shade reminds me of the endless summers of childhood when time stopped and no care clouded the skies. Unfortunately we changed this landscape.

Apricots, in the current market, have very little value. In addition, harvesting tall trees is a messy business. Fruits on the higher branches ripen first, but they are very difficult to reach and pickers are not keen on climbing the trees; harvesting is aimed at the middle and lower branches. While harvesting, the overripe fruit from the top splashes to the ground when the tree is shaken, and, in no time a juicy, sticky pulp covers the grass. The question posed by many around us: why keep apricot trees as a cash crop? Why not plant a crop that has more value?

We learnt quickly that chasing the market is not such a good idea; trees need several years to mature and then some to reach full production. By the time the trees are useful as a cash crop the market most likely will have changed since, in many orchards, similar crops were planted at the brief time of its economic high. The value of a fruit crop vacillates with the natural lifecycle of a tree; one rides a wave of good earnings till the mass of newly planted trees reaches maturity causing the market to plummet. Then, at its economic low, trees are ripped out and a crop with better prospects is planted, starting a new cycle with similar results. We resisted advice to join this merry-go-round for our apricot trees; however, we took the suggestion for their rejuvenation to heart.

Rejuvenating these trees involved topping them, a severe cutback of their main branches, intended to encourage growth at a lower level and facilitate easier harvesting. We employed several laborers to do the cutting, all local people who took pride in their work and admired the ‘clear’ view and ‘clean’ horizon. My reaction to this drastic cutback was entirely different; instead of ‘clean’ and ‘clear’ I saw amputation and my response was rather visceral: a surge of anger, then my stomach tightened and I could have cried. Words of consolation that in a couple of years the trees will have regained their vigor could not comfort me. I miss their stately presence, I regret the loss immensely and I realize that the farm with all its plantings represents for me something different than the narrow economic view of gains and losses. Awareness comes slowly and the hard way.

In addition to apricots we have two hectares of plum trees; one field with three year-old plants and about 600 trees planted this last winter amidst our peach trees. These saplings have kept us busy. First, at the outset of the growing season an agricultural alert warned us for spider mite, something that causes fruit drop before the fruit is mature. Spraying was strongly recommended, but since we had no fruits yet we did not spray. Still our plants looked funny, the leaves had turned an unnatural color and some leaves showed damage. My agricultural almanac showed a lack of water; thus we ploughed the land and rerouted the water channels to accommodate young shallow roots. This seemed to help, but we had created another problem: someone told us that the roots were now exposed and the exposure would certainly damage the plants; we ploughed yet again creating a little border of soil over the exposed roots which returned us to the initial problem, shortage of water to the plants. Then someone came by and determined that something entirely different was afflicting the plants, a fungus. We bought a fungicide, sprayed the plants only to hear that the remedy was useless for this type of disease. By this time we felt thoroughly battered, drifting about like the proverbial leaf in the wind. We learnt that different people have a different take on the problem, assessment differs whomever you ask; we put our actions on hold and it appears that the plants are coming around, budding out as if it were spring! It leaves us bewildered, but makes a very strong case for the low-key approach of farming we see around us; one does not jump on every problem immediately, one allows nature to take its course. It is an approach that disagrees with our Western ways which desires control of all stages and at all time. I am not sure that the expenditure of tremendous amounts of energy is warranted, after all, most of our plum trees are returning to normal and a 15% failure of newly planted trees is not unheard of. Yet our contratista has noticed a welcome increase in production of our fruits and an improvement of its quality since our arrival. If only we knew when to expend our energies and when to let things go.

This year our apricots and peaches brought in a record crop each; moreover, market prices are up since hail and frost wreaked havoc on many orchards in the area. We expect good earnings and finally a positive cash flow, but getting the money is a different story!!! Receiving payment for delivered goods is an excruciatingly slow process and it is not unheard of that payment stalls altogether. This year we have to fight to receive money for our peaches. We brought in eight ton of good fruit, almost all first quality which begets a higher price per kilo. No problems were mentioned while we delivered our fruits, Arn and the fruits were received with smiling faces. However this changed after an incident occurring following first payment. We had sold the fruit on the condition that payment would be in cash at time of harvest. Contrary to agreement we received a check. Since a check is as good as money in most countries, we did not think much of this. However, banking in Argentina leaves much to be desired and many tricks accompany the trade. Banks and banking transactions are viewed with utmost suspicion. The check we received was as good as we could determine until a friend pointed out the cash-in date printed in bold on the front of the check; this date lay four months in the future. In addition we were told that the check holder has a limited time frame to cash this check, a week or so, and cashing in later presents its own problems, the least of which is the reliability of the payee. We decided to return the check and request cash as agreed. We did not know what we were in for; the request was considered as a personal affront and we had to argue long and hard that the agreement had been for cash in the first place. Reluctantly we were given the money and the altercation was smoothed over by saying it had all been a misunderstanding. Nonetheless, retaliation came quick and decisively. That same evening the truck of the fruit buyer rumbled into our driveway and without descending from his vehicle the owner announced that the fruits we had brought in were of inferior quality, at least 10% of it could only be accepted for jam making. Secondary quality fruit is sold at a lower price and therefore, he would transfer 10% of the total tonnage we delivered to this second rate price. He added that he was willing to show us the fruits and teach us how to distinguish the diference if we would be so kinid to show up by eight the following morning. We were stunned; the last of our shipments had been at least a week prior and our earliest delivery more than six before. How could he possible make a case that so many fruits had been of secondary qualit at this timey? We smelled a rat! We ignored his veiled attempt of couching this action as something that could be construed as kind-hearted; instruction on how to select fruit by quality, if necessary, should have occurred many weeks before. This was mustard served after a meal! We showed up at the next scheduled payment time and received a second installment in cash.In addition we received an accounting of the outstanding amount still due. Arn scrutinized this reckoning and was appalled at the accounting; many cases of fruit had simply disappeared. This was such blatant thievery that we could not let it pass. Since, we have been in many times to fight our case. Many errors had to be set straight on top of arguing the arbitrariness of the 10% decision. We have been steadfast and insistent and we are slowly making progress, the money keeps dribbling in. Nonetheles it has been a hard case to crack! Our former manager laughs and tells us this is what it takes. Our neighbors and friends in the local community assure us of the same: this is the way, the Argentinean way one might add. Each of them does battle every year; it is the name of the game, we will have to join the pack whether we like it or not. After all having a manager had advantages, unbeknownst to us, he took the coals out of our fires.