Haverford House

Last Sunday my organization led a tour to Paradise Hill Farm, a traditional cranberry and blueberry farm in the Pine Barrens in New Jersey. It was absolutely beautiful! And so cool to see the old-fashioned machine that sorted the cranberries. The farmer told us that when she was young, she ate cranberries for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I wish I knew that many cranberry recipes! Cranberries are delightfully tart, sometimes overwhelmingly sour, sometimes tinged with sweetness – when you eat them plain – but are always delicious in sauces. Her family has been farming cranberries for over 90 years – they are one of the only independent cranberry farms left that have not been taken over by Ocean Spray (I think).

So, Cranberries don’t grow underwater – even though they are always seen underwater in the Ocean Spray juice commercials. But the bogs – which were dynamyted out almost a hundred years ago (now they laser out bogs for the cranberries to grow in) – are flooded when it is time to pick them.

Check out the pictures!

Above: cranberries growing underwater!

A guy with a threshing machine to pick the cranberries.

See how the cranberries float to the top after he goes through with the machine?

Me by the cranberry bog!

mmmm cranberries!

Then they are packed into crates like this.

Raking the cranberries into the machine.

me catching cranberries as they come out of the machine.

cranberries falling out of the machine into a wooden packing crate.

and FINALLY they are packed into these blue plastic containers … in which they come to our farmstand!

which is MUCH safer than the highway.

I got back from a 5-day Canoeing Expedition with students from Parkway NW this afternoon http://www.outwardboundphiladelphia.org/…), what a trip!

During the first night, there was a moment when I stepped away from the group and just appreciated the stars. One of the students joined me in my star-gazing and we reflected on how beautiful the sky can be, and how easy it is to ignore it. We discussed the difference in pace when one is home versus being on such a nature-intense trip; it’s crazy how much easier it is to feel comfortable and open up with people when you’re forced to slow down and detach yourself from life’s everyday hustle and bustle. From what I heard from the students, they created strong bonds during this trip and this was an experience they will not soon forget. Even the students who seemed most skeptical at the beginning of the trip were planning on signing up for another expedition before ours was over!

I enjoyed getting to know the students in a more informal setting; I was joking around and it felt like I was with my own high school friends at times. One of my favorite memories is when we all had to trudge through muck and drag our boats near the shore because the winds were too strong to canoe. Morale was getting low so I started asking my boatmate what music she liked. We had a lot of overlaps and began busting out with some Destiny’s Child songs. When the boat queue slowed down, we accompanied our singing with dances. Her response to my energy picked up my spirits and it made it a lot easier to stay positive.

We also had once-in-a-lifetime experience on this trip. In the middle of the night on Tuesday, I was in my tent and heard a LOUD crack of thunder that woke me up. My co-worker woke up and mumbled “whaat?” and I, seemingly calm, replied “just thunder, don’t worry about it.” But, a few minutes later, BABAMMM, a louder crack erupted from the sky and my co-worker and I shot out of our sleeping bags. As we looked at each other trying to figure out what to do, she remembered that her rain jacket was outside the tent and ran to get it before the rainfall. As she opened the tent flap, I saw a BRIGHT flash of lightning. As soon as she got back from getting her jacket, the rain began to drench the ground. Before we could consider any future steps, our instructor called out ‘LIGHTNING DRILL’. This was a position of sitting so that any electricity that might enter the body comes in through the butt and out through the legs, avoiding any major body parts, aka the heart. I knew it was a serious situation because our instructor didn’t even leave her tent to announce it, she screamed it out from her own. We sat up for 15 minutes in lightning position until we heard her announce that it was safe to go back to bed. Mother Nature did not disappoint for the rest of the trip either because the next night we heard a howling that sounded like someone getting attacked but was an animal.

This morning, we woke up at 5 AM, packed up, and rowed a few more miles to our van to drive back to Philadelphia. Even though we hit the water when it was cold and the sky was dark, we kept spirits up and some of the students sang as we glided along. To me, it symbolized how even though there were hardships in this 5-day expedition, we learned how to work together and make the best out of situations. It also helped that we were heading to a heated car and a graduation ceremony and family upon arrival back to Philadelphia.

I am amazed that such programs like this Peer Leadership program through Outward Bound exists. Time and time again during my fellowship with Haverford House, I meet people who have dedicated so much time and effort to push young people to strive for excellence. But you never read about them in magazines or see them with their own TV shows…sometimes I wonder if maybe they just live on a different planet. If so, I’d like to move there.

Until next time,
Sarah D

Just so you all know, the Fair Food Farmstand is open in Reading Terminal Market! It was open before at a small stall in the middle of the market, but now we’re in a new big place by the windows! It’s SUCH a different feeling and it’s been so great to work at the new farmstand (which I do once a week). Our grand opening was this past Friday and Marion Nestle (she’s sorta a big cheese in the food world, she wrote a book called “Food Politics”) spoke! Anyways, if you want fresh, yummy, ethical food you should come shop here! Also, the meat is not only humanely-raised but – and this is for all you folks that read the scary article in the TIMES this morning about the E.Coli in the beef – it is COMPLETELY trace-able. Locally raised and slaughtered, small-scale, less potential for contamination I should think.

Read more about us in this article that was in the PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER a few days ago:

 http://www.philly.com/inquirer/food/2009…

Here is the middle section of our farmstand – made of recycled materials and stuffed with yummylicious food.

And here is another pic of the middle section of the farmstand.

So this is something that I have been thinking about for a long time – running in Philadelphia. As David Brooks opened one of his editorials in the TIMES a few weeks ago, “you wouldn’t know it to look at me, but I go running” every day of the week. It’s been a habit since … oh I don’t know, for years and years, with minor interruptions for injuries and the like, as regular as brushing my teeth. Growing up I knew my town like the back of my hand, and Amherst too (where we spent our summers). Or, so I thought. But through running I discovered (and occasionally re-discovered) those towns that I thought I knew – little side streets and back roads and trails that either peter out into the brush or burst suddenly onto a familiar road.
When I got to Haverford, I had to reckon with a whole new area. I was timid at first – just the nature trail and some roads directly around campus. Then I tored my ACL and did a bunch of other fun stuff to my knee like that, all of which required surgery. So it was not until sophomore year that I was able to lace up my Asics again.
One would think that, in a year on the Main Line, I would get to know it somewhat, knee surgery or not. But the Haverbubble is a powerful thing, and when I was able to run again I realized that I had no idea what lay around – outside of – campus. I had to find out. Mary, whom I live with, has a name for such endeavors. She calls them “run-ventures,” short for “running adventures.” It’s when you go off your usual path and, even if you get lost or have to stop and figure out where you are, you are still technically out on a run. I did not know this word at the time, but that is essentially what I did. I headed out every day, discovered I had a pretty good sense of direction when I put my mind to it, and often returned from my runs having never really gotten lost, even though I had been in areas of the Main Line that I had never even heard of before. When my sense of direction failed me, I would stop passing cars and ask, or occasionally just run till a road sign seemed familiar. By the end of my sophomore year I had developed so many routes of various mileages, roads, and terrains that they lasted me until graduation without boring me.
It was in this way that I truly became familiar with Haverford and the surrounding area – by running through it. I not only had to re-discover the areas I thought I knew – finding little alleys and trails – but I also had to figure out the lay of the land in suburban Philadelphia. It also helped Haverford feel even more like home – when I came back from a run in an unfamiliar area and saw a familiar road name or house or tree my heart would leap a little and I’d realize “I’m almost home!” and then Haverford itself would chug into view and I would be back.
Now that I am living in West Philadelphia, I think that one of the things I miss most about Haverford are these now-familiar running routes. I miss being able to step out of my door an have multiple runs to choose from – ALL of which are safe, aesthetically-pleasing, and just the right length. I miss the freedom of going on a “run-venture” knowing that wherever I ended up I would be safe and would probably be able to run on asphalt (softer than concrete and easier on my poor injured knee).
Now that I’m in Philly, I am often frustrated that all of the running I have to do on concrete leaves me gym-bound for a few days afterwards; or that my “run-ventures” here often land me in places that have no interesting and few safe ways out of. I hate, hate, HATE the pollution and the car exhaust and waiting every few blocks for the light to change and having to dodge bicyclists and cars; and I hate being blocked by walking pedestrians, and I REALLLLLY HATE the constant clouds of cigarette smoke.
But, I am realizing, running here is helping me get to know what is now “my” city – just as running in Sewickley and Amherst and at Haverford helped me re-discover and discover those areas. I suppose discovering good running routes is a process, and just because it’s taking longer this time, doesn’t mean I won’t get there. I just have to work harder. The trails along the Schulykill (sp?) Banks are lovely, but I have to pound my way along 20 blocks of unforgiving concrete through car exhaust to get there. But this is incentive for me to be more creative with my runs to try and circumnavigate these conditions, and it’s helping me get to know Philadelphia better. Now that this is my city, I am slowly stopping lamenting the loss of Haverford and discovering the area. Which, I suppose, is part of what doing Haverford House is all about.
It isn’t always easy – I still LOATHE the cigarette smoke and the concrete. But today, after I was finally free of all that and loping along West River Drive, I looked behind me and saw the skyline through the trees . . . and thought that this is quite a nice life to be living.