The Homeland Part 2: A different world

On Saturday, I woke up early to explore the farm with Grandpa Clifford. And by early I mean 10am which felt like 8am PST to me, so that was my excuse. I would never make it on this farm.

Did you know that silos are used for storing fermented
animal feed? Yeah, me neither.

This burns liquid propane! But I thought it looked pretty.

That's the combine. I found out from "How Stuff Works" that
it COMBINES multiple tasks of cutting corn stalks, shucking them,
spinning out the corn kernels.

I had the best time sitting in tractors and asking Grandpa Clifford about farming. They farm 750 acres of corn and beans! Grandpa Clifford is 77 years old and Grandma Marcie is 75 years old. They still do everything by themselves--the planting, the fertilizing, the harvesting, the drying. I asked if they hire any workers during the growing seasons, and they said, "Well, a cousin of mine comes to help out." Dude.


Later in the day, Grandma Marcie and Grandpa Clifford packed me into their car and took me to a "secret location." It turned out to be Amish Country.

Don't mind the buggies crossing.

We first went to the grocery store to purchase some groceries "for the Amish." I thought it was so peculiar. As we loaded six cases of Cheerios, salami, marshmallows, and saltines into the car, I wondered why can't Amish people buy groceries themselves? Well, the answer is, it depends.


Amish people can't own phones, but they can use other people's. They can't drive, but they can ride in cars. They also can't be in photographs and their dolls can't have faces because according to scripture, creating images is blasphemy. Grandpa Clifford said, "I bet if you take a picture of them from a distance real secretly, they won't even notice."


Grandma Marcie first became friends with an Amish man named Hersberger at a county auction. They bid on the same John Deer tractor manuals and he invited the family to their residence. Eighteen years later, Grandma Marcie knows all of their 8 kids by name, buys them groceries whenever she can, and sends them birthday cards without fail.

Inside the Hersberger store. They sell everything
from empty coke bottles to cattle plows to old
battered magazines from 1975 to pickled pork.

It was really interesting to see how Amish people lived. It was also kind of sad, because it is a culture of oppression and limited education. The women essentially have no power and if their husband leaves them, they can never remarry and must rely on her in-laws to take care of her for the rest of her life. They also have no education past 8th grade, and no reproductive education. The woman we visited had eight children and had no idea where they came from. Women don't talk about pregnancies, and some don't even know when they are pregnant! When it's time to deliver the baby, they send their existing children to relatives' homes nearby or to bed. And in the morning, surprise! a new baby has arrived. Around child #6, Mrs. Hersberger was given "the talk" by Grandma Marcie, and did not believe her. 

Grandpa Clifford: "I hate horses. You stand in front of them,
they bite you. Stand behind them, they kick you. Go on, pet it."

It was Saturday when we went to visit the Hersbergers and sit in their house for a visit. It smelled quite ripe in the house, since they only bathe on Sundays. I shook everyone's dirt-crusted hands and stood politely inside the dark (no electricity, remember) by the wood-burning stove. I was always introduced as their granddaughter, and one little boy asked, "Are you sure?" It was really funny. According to Amish people, everyone not Amish is considered "English"--even me.


All in all, Saturday was the strangest day I'd ever had in my life.