The Fruitshack

Arriving at The Fruitshack six weeks ago, I was a little nervous and apprehensive as I just didn't know what to expect from the whole experience. Heading to a quiet little town in the middle of nowhere from a bustling, lively city was always going to be a huge shock. Leaving my heart behind in Sydney, I jumped aboard an early train taking me on a long journey to adventures unknown. I'd been in Sydney for nearly three months and felt it was time to move on to something new. As part of the terms of an Australian Working Holiday Visa, in order to obtain a second year on your visa, it is mandatory to complete a total of eighty eight days of regional or agricultural work anywhere in the country. Three months of living and working on a farm! The Australian immigration department certainly know to make your life difficult! Only Australia could come up with these rules and regulations. Before I had even entered into Australia I had already decided I definitely wanted to complete these important eighty eight days to obtain a second year in the country, so I knew it was time to start thinking about where and when I was going to do it. Before arriving at The Fruitshack I was, in a way dreading the experience. I'd picked vegetables in a cold, English downpour back home, and hated every second of it, and I was certainly not looking forward to repeating the experience in scorching Australian sun. But the eighty eight days were nagging in the back of my brain and I knew it would be best to get them out of the way before it was too late. Everyone was also encouraging me, telling me how much of a great experience it would be and that it would be well worth the time and effort. So armed with a whole lot more luggage than I'd started with in Australia, I set off on my train journey into countryside New South Wales for my next adventure to begin, in Leeton. The whole thing seemed a lot less daunting knowing I still had Stef by my side. There was a brief time in Sydney where we thought we would be parting ways, but after a bit of organisation we were off to The Fruitshack together, which greatly eased the worry on my shoulders. Six weeks later as I prepare to leave The Fruitshack, I wonder why I was ever worried or in a state of dread about coming here and doing farm work. As many messages on the walls of The Shack have said, I came here to get some of my farming days and to earn a bit of money but I leave with so much more. Whilst I've not saved a single cent from working in this place, I've gained some things a lot more worthy than a few dollars. Not only do I feel I have earned a sense of accomplishment and pride but I have met people from all over the world, some who will remain friends for life. Six weeks is such a short period in your life but when living with others in such a close proximity you become very close, very quickly. It's true again what those wise messages on the toilet doors say, you leave The Fruitshack with a family. A group of messy but loveable individuals that make the place feel like home. Without the people the place would not be what it has been to me. We've seen each other at our worst as we pick thousands of oranges for next to no pay a day. We've argued, snapped and lost our tempers in the burning Aussie afternoon sun whilst trying to pick those frustrating oranges right up in the trees. We've climbed trees, rolled around in the mud, got covered in scratches, and watched each other climb and nearly fall off ladders. We've had competitions in the vineyards, racing against one another to get the most buckets picking grapes, only for some to get frustrated when they realise they're not as fast as others. We've seen each other at our worst, but that's what families are for. After the long, hard, sweaty days we do what any good family does. We get together to get drunk on lots and lots of goon. The hilarious drunken memories with The Fruitshackers are what makes the tough times worth it and will stay with me forever. Being out in the middle of nowhere in the countryside, we don't have anywhere to go, so a night out to 'The Goon Room' is a regular occurrence. A standard evening at The Shack starts off with a game of Three Man, followed by a very rowdy game of Flip Cup and then drunken antics start to ensue as everyone starts to get increasingly more merry. There have been some nights where we can't remember anything and some nights we'd rather just forget, but I've laughed so much and created some great memories with brilliant people. The photographs are there to prove just how silly and messy these nights can get. Farm life it appears, does not seem to agree with me or my body. During the long, strenuous days of picking grapes in the burning heat, I'd often get a headache from dehydration and feel faint and sick. Sunburn, lower back ache and aching muscles all come as part of the package. Clipping your fingers instead of the grapes causes you to get through rather a lot of plasters. Deep Heat is now my signature fragrance as I constantly rub it into my aching back and my newly discovered injury in my wrist where I have tendinitis, an inflammation of the tendons caused by repetitive exercise. Oh and don't let me forget the numerous insects that have delighted in attacking me during my stay on the farm. I've had the pleasure of a bee sting, aggravating a large hornets' nest to find they really don't like to be disturbed, and my ultimate favourite: a white tail spider who decided to bite me and take a huge chunk out of my elbow. The joys of living and working on a farm in Australia really are endless! At least I can cross a few things off of my bucket list now, although I'm not sure getting bitten by a spider was high up on my list of things to do. Nothing changes your perceptions and expectations like living on a farm. Using the toilet and showering in questionable and somewhat dirty conditions are just normal occurrences for me now, and I don't even bat an eyelid when I seem to be sharing the shower with an over enthusiastic frog. I sleep in a cabin, that just will not get warm at night, I cook and eat in a kitchen that I'm pretty sure a bunch of escaped zoo animals are occupying. I'm constantly covered in mud and sweat, and sometimes tears too. I share two showers with twenty five people, queuing after a long hard day at work to be able to finally wash off all the grime from my tired body. Tripping over or kicking a cat out from the kitchen is another daily occurrence as we share our living quarters with a few too many kittens. Times are tough living on a farm. Money is poor, as am I. Living conditions are not the best and as a hot Australian summer turns slowly into a chilly winter I find myself shivering trying to fall asleep, trying not to think of spiders haunting my bed. As the sunny days turn rainy and jobs become more scarce, farm life makes you question why you are here, earning no money, freezing in bed, getting injured and bitten by insects on a daily basis. And then you remind yourself of the experience you're having, the friends you've made, the lessons you're learning, the eighty eight days you're so slowly earning, the beautiful part of the country you're living in, the stunning sunsets and sunrises you experience every day, the beautiful starry night sky that somehow looks so much more amazing out in the country, away from the city lights. Living on a farm isn't about the money. It's about experiencing something out of your comfort zone. Doing things you'd never dream of doing back home. Learning about yourself and others and enjoying a simple life, where no one cares if you're better dressed than anyone else or what sort of car you drive or how much you earn or what brands you can afford. You're plagued by flies constantly around your face, sometimes you're too hot, sometimes you're too cold, sometimes it feels like the worst day of your life when you're picking that fruit. But with every day I have been at The Fruitshack I have learned that I can do these things I was dreading so much and I can stick things out and persevere until the end. I was going to stay here for my full eighty eight days but as a traveller it's inevitable for your plans to change. A new adventure is about to begin and as I get ready to leave the place I've called home for a few weeks, I feel reflective and sad. I've learned and gained so much. And I feel like everyone who came here said the same thing and it all sounds like a big cliché but it's actually so true. Some of the messages on the walls will stick with me for a long time so I feel they deserve a place in my blog. These words were on a poster in The Goon Room and I think they really say a lot about working on a farm... "Are you working on a farm and feel you are being underpaid? "If so, please read this... "Working on a farm is very hard work and when backpackers try farm work for the first time they often feel taken advantage of and that they are not being paid fairly. But before you complain please think about a few things.. "Farming is the only industry in the world in which the producer is unable to set his own prices. Farmers must accept the market price for their produce even if that price is below the cost of production (which it quite often is). "You are working in the paddock unsupervised. Farmers have work to do and cannot stay and make sure you are working. So to keep things fair they pay you for the actual work you do. Keep in mind that this is the how the farmer gets paid as well.. Only for what he produces not the number of hours he has spent working in the paddock. "Again, working on a farm is HARD work... It is not like other jobs where you can expect to be busy and then get a little rest as if you were working in a shop. You have to work hard all day in difficult conditions for just a little bit of money. That's what working on a farm is all about. Just ask one of the farmers you are working for. Most likely he has been working hard in difficult conditions for very little money for his WHOLE LIFE. "Instead of complaining, why not think of things this way.. "Working on a farm is a once in a lifetime experience that gives you the opportunity to appreciate the lives you will go back to when you finish travelling. It gives you the opportunity to appreciate all the hard work that goes into growing your food. It gives you the opportunity to feel some empathy for all the people working on farms around the world. People who are working for far fewer wages than you are just to survive." It struck home with me as it made me remember travelling around Southeast Asia and seeing what these people had to do to get dinner on the table and to clothe their children. As much as I have complained every day about farm work, it makes me realise that I shouldn't be moaning and that people all over the world do this for a living to keep their families alive. To finish off I will quote another inspiring message from the toilet door.. "You may not like the work but at least you have it. You won't earn lots of money whilst you're here but like they say, 'what price can you put on happiness and friendship?!' Nobody ever comes to this place looking for something, but if you embrace it, you will always leave with more than you arrived." The words are so true. I came to The Fruitshack for a job, to earn money. I leave with so much more. Again, cliché but the words hit home with me and I will always have a place in my heart for The Fruitshack, the memories, the people, the work and of course, the ever brilliant, Michael.. the guy who makes it all happen. So long Fruitshack!