My 7am alarm came at an unwelcome point this morning. Despite that, I got up three snoozes later, prepared for the day and made my way into yet another lovely day. The bus stop bound for the train station was literally around the corner - extremely convenient and the LED sign announcing each arriving bus along with the ETA was sweet.The train began to climb the looming hills to the northwest and we passed through several tunnels. A glance at the map clearly showed that we were very near the border with Skopje (Macedonia as we know it in the states. Which is actually an interesting story that I’ll share briefly).
When Yugoslavia broke up, they chose to name the new country Macedonia which is actually also the name of a region in northern Greece which actually dates back to the time of Alexander ‘the Great’. Apparently this has left some Grecians feeling a bit sore - the intentional use of an ancient name associated with a place and a people that are not Slavic but Greek. I’m impartial here but figured it was worth sharing that most Greeks consider it Skopje (skope-yah) not Macedonia.
Within twenty minutes we reached the modest town of Edessa - my stop for the day. It must’ve been a full 10 degrees F cooler up there. It was brisk for shorts and sandals that’s for sure, but I found a sunny perch to sit and waited with Perennial Vegetables in my lap.
Panos and I had agreed to meet around 10:30 and I was a good 20 minutes early. By 10:45 I was beginning to wonder if there was a miscommunication. I called his number but spoke with Andreas - an Italian volunteer who’s working with him. We struggled through conversation and it seemed that we determined he would be there - just a bit late.
Around 11, a bearded man in his early 60s pulled up in a small red van/truck. I knew from his simple description that it was him (‘I have a beard.’) Greeks generally seem to have a profusion of facial hair. I fit right in as many men seem to be brandishing five o'clock shadows that are now 2-3 days old. That said, I haven’t noticed all that many men that let their beards grow in full which made it easy to recognize Panos.
We set off for his home, just a few kms southeast of town and I was able to draw out a few details about his life. He’d been in the area about 25 years when he first began his farm modeled on the natural farming techniques of Japanese philosopher agricultur Masanobu Fukuoka.
For those who aren’t familiar, Fukuoka does deserve a brief into (actually an in-depth intro
but I don’t have time for that right now). As a student in agricultural science, he became disillusioned with the materialistic approach to agriculture that he had been indoctrinated with. He began to develop his natural farming approach. The four basic tenets are
No tillage
No fertilizers
No pesticides
and no herbicides
Some of his best known books are The One Straw Revolution and The Natural Way of Farming and he also developed a continuous cover grain production technique in which the straw from the first crop is broadcast over the newly seeded follow up planting.
In my initial dealings with Panos, the only term I could think of to describe his persona was ‘stoic’. Very pensive, slow to speak, calm, quite and seemingly distant, I found I had to turn my energy level down a few notches to match his pace.
We arrived at his one hectare or so homesite, crossed through the gate, which was diligently locked every time we left, and headed towards the spacious outdoor kitchen. On the way, he showed me the covered space where they manufacture seed balls - literally ‘packages’ of diverse soil-building plants encased in a clay lump which are broadcast onto desertified fields and left to passively re-vegetate the landscape. Using this technique they have literally helped to green thousands of acres of abused landscapes - in some cases even aerially seeding from a
plane/helicopter!
Andreas was in the kitchen when we arrived. We realized that English wasn’t the easiest conversational tool for us to share, so we met in the middle and chose Spanish. It came very
natural to him and Panos appeared fluent in Italian so we shared a diverse series of languages
between the three of us.
We took a few moments to gather our things and then headed to Panos’ farm, another two kms down the hill. I had told Panos earlier about how I’d heard of him - he’s become something of a legend during my brief experience here in Greece. I told him about my visit to the University and he shared his thoughts with me on academia. Always studying, never doing - only two professors had even visited his farm and they didn’t seem to do much with the info.
We arrived, parked in the shade and entered through the gate to the 2.5 hectare paradise he’d created. With a dynamic shape and topography, the farm seemed to clearly contain several different ‘spaces’ for lack of a better term. The entrance featured a 15 or so degree grade downhill to an old block building where he kept tools other packing supplies.
Formerly a conventional peach/cherry orchard, just like the others surrounding the area, the farm now hosts over 120 varieties of fruits. We grabbed a few buckets and headed out to harvest. He was on his way to Athens the following day for an organized seeding of a burnt section of forest (which I hope to participate in) and I’m guessing had markets to sell his produce at there.
We walked through the ‘forest’ and it was stunning in its diversity. Largely a two story system - canopy with understory - the trees were well spaced. Grass poked through in some areas and dominated as a ground cover in others, but there were also many patches with wildly sown vegetables gardens - often chinese varieties of the mustard/radish family (bok choy, mizuna,, etc) In other areas, winter squash spread across the forest floor. Patches of nettles could be found throughout - in fact with my sandals and shorts, I could've found them with my eyes closed.
Other scattered species including chicory and alfalfa.
He briefly described a continuous cover grain production system he’d been experimenting with. The rotations included millet/buckwheat as the summer crop alternating with winter grain. Thus after harvest, the new crop was sown, they then threshed the grain and returned the straw to the field as a source of mulch and organic matter.
The canopy contained legumes like catalpa, alder, acacia and fruits included jujube (Zizyphus), apple, peach, paw paw, quince, olive, fig, mulberry, walnut, chestnut and man many more. None of these trees had ever been pruned though most of them were planted as young trees. Only more recently did he begin to plant from seed.
I pummeled him (pleasantly I hope) with questions as we harvested jujubes. It was my first experience with this fruit and he explained that it’s a newly developing market as well. Greeks are slow to try new things he explained so their willingness to take on jujubes is slow to develop.
We harvested about 20 kg (45 lbs) of jujubes and maybe 40 kg quince. As they packed the fruit for transport, I had a walk around taking photos, video footage and mental notes of what I saw. I squatted and relaxed in the shade of a kiwi trellis. Soon thereafter we packed up and left.
When we returned to Panos’ homestead, he took time to show me the evolution of the seed ball - describing how the small round balls weren’t very functional. The ball would crack and open up when the seed germinated before it had a chance to take root in the soil below.
Today they are making small ‘bricks’ about 2”x2” and 3/4-1” thick. These remain in place and do not crack (to help they’ve started adding fiber to the ball - essentially making small cob blocks). They leave one surface pitted to help
collect and retain moisture.
Once these seeds begin to take root, they pin themselves to the soil and stay in place.
For Panos’ team, it costs 100 Euros (all-inclusive) to revegetate 1 ha with seed balls. This includes food for the volunteer workforce. By comparison, it costs 10,000 Euros to replant.
Panos and others make 30-40 tons of seed balls each year. They recently made 9-10 tons by hand for the upcoming seeing outside of Athens. When Fukuoka came to visit 10-15 people made 100 tons of seed balls in 40 days.
He has taken this technique/technology around the world, helping to revegetate the rapidly advancing deserts. He explained that South America is one of the places in greatest need today and he spent 35 days in Argentina this year, finding impressive organization and motivation to preserve their precious land.
He expressed the urgent need for us to act - the planet is dying and he’s been frightened by
what he’s seen in his travels. I was deeply inspired by the fact that such a wise active man lived in such humble simplicity here. He is an indispensable culture resource and this is becoming more and more evident in his work - now traveling frequently throughout the year and sharing his experience and philosophy. I had no idea that I was to be visiting a man of his stature and accomplishments that day. Yet another fortuitous turn of events.
We walked around his property, in his stewardship for just a few years. We traced the
emergence of a recent seed ball distribution. Essentially his site has zero soil - five centimeters (2”) or less in many places. He figured this would be a good site to demonstrate the potential of his techniques. In this case, there is no transforming of subsoil into topsoil - you need to build organic matter just to start creating it. Primary succession - akin to a post glacial landscape.
We retreated to the outdoor kitchen and Panos brought out some resources to share - three versions of Fukuoka’s ‘must read’ which is not available in English - the Japanese edition and the Greek translation - which after some prodding I learned was his product - though I couldn’t seem to find his name listed anywhere inside.
I also saw photos of his work and projects from around the world. Again, impressive to infer that he has been such an active purveyor of earth repair. He told me about projects he’d coordinated around the world - and in several cases, it was political intervention that prevented the spread of this essential work. In Yugoslavia after the bombings in the 90s as well as parts of Africa, they were forbidden to import the seed supply that they had assembled for the restoration work. We had spoken earlier about this ‘natives-only’ mindset and he explained how in his mind, it was a distraction and a waste of time. Many people today are concerned with the spread of only ‘native’ plants but it is the diversity that’s important, not the ‘origin’ of the seed. Once again, it’s essential that we begin to work to repair these dying landscapes - we don’t have time to waste worrying about such trivial things. I agree with him strongly.
We all took twenty minutes or so to lay down after a very nice lunch prepared by Andreas. From there we headed back to the farm to harvest grapes for another few hours. I had been invited to stay the night but came unprepared and was also intending to return home for my morning meeting.
We three worked together harvesting fruit from a delicious red grape covered arbor. In total, we picked about 90 kilos (200 lbs)! Due to the diversity of varieties he’s planted, Panos explained that he has grapes available from May through December. That’s good design.
It was an absolute joy clipping each cluster from the vine - they’re so gorgeous in their dropping form. Placing each cluster carefully in a bucket, we transferred them to wooden packing crates - another delightful opportunity to lay down these trailing fruits.
Panos decided we would need a few more kilos of jujubes, so we re-scoured the trees and promptly left. Except that he wanted to make sure I went off with fruit and proceeded to harvest probably five pounds of grapes and a large number of jujubes and apples, filling a shallow wooded crate for me to take home. I was astonished by his generosity.
We stopped back at his home, I picked up a copy of Fukuoka’s book in Greek and watched a gorgeous blaze orange sun set on the horizon.
As we drove to the train station to catch the 7:30 I asked what I could do to support his work. He basically said to share the information and cooperate with others. I assured him that my experience there was deeply enlightening - another paradigm shift and something I’d carry with me in life. We parted ways and I felt grateful for the day’s experience.
I was about twenty minutes early for the train and it was starting to get cool. I sat on a bench next to the cutest little chubby kid you could imagine. He smiled back and I gave him a jujube
It seemed that my box of fruit drew the interest of others - namely four elderly folks sitting on a nearby bench. Unable to converse I showed them the fruit and offered up jujubees. They seemed to know what it was but declined. I told them if they wanted any to let me know. I sat down and ate one. As I did I noticed the young boy grab his, inspect it carefully and pop it in his mouth. Soon his mom and sister arrived and I gave her one as well. They seemed to like me.
Another three car long train rolled up, and I boarded, proceeding to read Perennial Vegetables. I have enjoyed the book very much - full of useful gardening insights, but I couldn’t help thinking about the contrast between vegetable gardening and the natural farming philosophy. I do think they’re very complementary, but philosophically speaking, human vs. ‘natural’ design are also somewhat at odds. I think that’s alright though. I’m reminded of Panos’ belief in doing away with leaders/idols meaning that we need to act without waiting to follow a ‘guru’. He said that instead of ascribing to any one ideology or mentor, he instead sees people like Fukuoka as a beautiful flower. Something to be appreciated, not worshipped.
Around 9:15 (an hour and forty five minutes later) we arrived in Athens. I was tired and carrying a heavy load between my original plastic bag ‘day pack’ and the heavy gift of fruit. I boarded the #3 bus to return home and it was busy - both the bus and the roads. What took twenty minutes in the morning took over 45 and because part of the trip in the morning was along one way roads, we took a different route home. What this meant is that I had no idea where my stop was.
Feeling lost but thankful I was staying just across the street from the see, the crew of fifteen teenagers that hopped on at the next stop was enough for me to choose to get off at the very next stop.
I used my mental compass to orient me back towards the place, but when I got back to the main strip, I didn’t know whether to turn forth or south. I thought north looked still familiar, so I turned. It kept looking familiar and I was searching for a particular landmark that never did show up. After twenty minutes of walking I feared I had gone in the wrong direction so I headed down alongside the sea and started to walk back in the other direction, alternating steps with curse words.
It took about fifteen minutes but finally the place showed up - I had almost gotten off the bus at exactly the right point. It was now 10:30. My initial plan was to drop off my things, shower and go out for dinner. I got sucked into the first two things, some computer work (I’d used my train time to draft up a brief handout on coppice firewood production for Massachusetts landowners as well as a reflection/recommendation sheet on the Nea Makri site and group evolution, along with journal reflection from the past two days). Needless to say, I had an hour or two of typing ahead until I got sucked into editing the video footage I’d taken at Panos’. Fortunately I was really in bed by 2!
