Kate and I have just left Rio Muchacho, an organic permaculture farm we have been doing volunteer work at for the last week. My last morning at Rio Muchacho was spent clearing a garden plot of weeds and dried corn stalks to prepare the soil for planting. The day was the hottest it had
been since my arrival and sweat poured off my face, arms, and legs watering the rich soil beneath my feet. After about twenty minuets Oscar(one of the farm workers), Ian (another volunteer), and I decided to take a break in the small patch of shade along the edge of the field. While watching large beaked blackbirds pick at the soil for freshly uncovered
insects we spoke in spanish about our home cultures. Unlike my home town in Montana where the majority of the people I graduated with left to go to school else where, in the community of Rio Muchacho most people do not leave. They stay to farm, to the work the land and continue to be a part
of a community they have known their entire lives.

At home those who do not leave home are often viewed as some how less successful, and a bit less knowledgable than those of us who have left. Lately I have been thinking a lot about knowledge and place. What is the depth of the knowlege that the men and women I have worked with on this farm have of their own home? Of their land and of their community? I think
we need to recognize and honor this type of knowing. A knowledge that comes from working daily with your hands. I can´t but help think this sort of work has to create an intamacy with a place that results in a deep knowledge of your home. I find myself desiring this sort of knowledge and
wishing I better knew my own home.