It has been nearly 2 years since I first wrote the Amish Diaries. I am sitting in an open air kitchen in the middle of the jungle on the Big Island of Hawaii, typing and editing the last of The Amish Diaries. I am wondering how successful it is going to be and if people are going to find it interesting. I think about how much has changed and how much has stayed the same.
I am still friends with Albert and talk with him regularly. Because of my experience living with him, I fell into becoming his “broker” and was able to get him some large accounts. He is now busier than ever and is sending his products all over the United States and even into other countries. However, he has had many close calls. The PDA (Pennsylvania Department of Agriculture, I like to call them the PDA-Holes) is well aware of his and other Amish and Mennonite activities and have tried to shut him down numerous times. Luckily, the PDA is so inept and unorganized that simply by Albert asking the PDA inspector for his identification when he comes to his farm is enough to confuse and set them back for months. Also, Aajonus Vonderplanitz and The Right to Choose Healthy Foods organization have been instrumental in helping Albert prepare legal documents, assist him with court cases and most importantly, simply know his rights. It has truly been a pleasure and a learning experience to watch the legal savvy of Aajonus in action. Without his love, knowledge and countless hours he has donated, Albert and many others, would have been shut down a long time ago.
As always I am still constantly experimenting with and refining my diet. Living with Albert was a powerful transition point for me from a Weston Price diet to an Aajonus Vonderplanitz Primal Diet. So far I am very satisfied with Aajonus’s diet and recommendations. After years of being fooled by unhealthy looking false gurus, I feel I have finally found a friend and a teacher who, frankly, knows what the fuck he is talking about. I have a home in Los Angeles right by the local Primal Diet style raw foods co-op and have been able to integrate myself in the community there. Having that resource of hundreds of people who are doing the same “weird” diet as me has been integral in my healing. I regularly correspond with Aajonus. As the months go by I find my respect and love for him grows. He is always very kind and humble and continually inspires me to learn more about the world around me. I credit him with saving my life and I will always be thankful for his tireless efforts to learn what makes us healthy.
I am currently living at Pangaia, a permaculture and raw food community on the Big Island of Hawaii with about 8 other people. Pangaia is offering me the chance to get truly “primal”. I have gone spear fishing, wild boar hunting, slaughtered goats and drank the fresh blood. I believe that I will never know the true power of food unless I find the best quality available, Pangaia is offering me that chance. I have found that everything people say can kill me actually makes me stronger. I have eaten 1 year old rotten meat, pig intestines, brains, raw organs, fresh blood, feces and I haven’t died yet. It is a constant effort to undue years of brainwashing and force myself to be open to eating things which, for lack of a better term, are revolting. However, if there is one thing that I have learned, it is that when it comes to my health, it is usually the last thing I want to do or the thing that I am most adverse to, that ends up being what my body needs to heal. The fact that thousands of others have blazed the trail before me, and that I am not the first raw astronaut, offers some hope and comfort.
Index of Most of Names
Albert Fischer: 25 years old at the time I was staying him. He was about 5’6”, thin and brown hair and beard with reddish streaks in it. I first met him at a Weston Price Conference on Long Island where he had a booth selling his raw dairy products. I was so impressed with the quality of his food and his views on life I asked him if I could intern with him for a month. He said, “Yes” and that is where The Amish Diaries began. Albert was a very driven yet caring man. He had a lot of weight on his shoulders. His father had given him a farm down the road to manage. He was in charge of everything; the cows, chickens, horses, pigs and repairs. He saw raw dairy as a way to better the life and health of him and his family and was willing to work as hard as he needed to get it. When I was there, it became the norm to skip lunch entirely and just do 2 meals a day, there was too much work to be done. Even though he was surrounded by stress, he was still a good man and would help anyone that he would meet.
Marie Fischer: Alberts wife and mother of three daughters; Lucy and Lisa (twins) and Barbie. Albert and her had met in their church group and it was love at first site. She was a Jack of all Trades, like most Amish women. She could cook, clean, butcher chickens, watch the children and still have dinner ready on time. She always felt that Albert worked to hard and wish he would spend more time with the children. She was understanding though and was always there to support him. She was very accomadating to me too, always making sure that my sheets were clean and that I was comfortable.
Lucy and Lisa Fischer: Albert and Marie’s twins, a year and a half old when I was there. Short and cute, they looked like 2 baby Amish dolls. They only spoke Pennslyvania Dutch and did not understand my English too well. It freaked them out a little to have a 6 foot tall California dude live with them and sleep in their bedroom, but they handled it pretty well. Lucy was shyer than Lisa. They were definitely mommy’s and daddy’s girls, they knew how to work their parents. At times they would whine and cry so much it would drive me crazy, I loved them though.
Peter Fischer:
Albert’s Father, about 50 years old and shorter than Amos. He walked stiffy and had peppered hair and a gray beard. He looked like a miniature Gandalf from Lord of The Rings or a tall dwarf. He was nice and always polite, he would always tell me that he was glad I was around. He was the one who first got the family into the raw dairy business. He had attended a talk by Sally Fallon (Weston Price Foundation) that she gave about raw milk and decided that he wanted to start selling it.
Naomi Fischer
Albert’s younger sister, about 14 years old. She had fire engine, red hair and a personality to match. Adults would continually remark on how smart she was and I saw it to. She was very capable, able to do long, hard farm work without complaining. She was always a match for me in ping pong
Susan Fischer
Albert’s younger sister, about 14 years old. She was a little bit shyer than Naomi and just as hard as a worker. We generally did not spend too much time together.
George Fischer
Albert’s younger brother, about 16 years old, he looked like a little Prince Valiant with his haircut. Like the rest of Albert’s younger siblings, I was impressed by how smart and hardworking he was. Whenever there was free time, we would sneak away and get in a couple of rounds of ping-pong (which he would usually beat me). He had a lot of temptation. He was entering rumspringa (amish rite of passage) and many of his friends were starting to drink and party. He was always cool though, the worst I ever saw him do was listen to Christian country music on his secret boombox or watch a football game at a friends house.
Barbie Fischer
Albert’s younger sister, about 21 years old. Albert’s youngest daughter, Barbie, was named after her. I didn’t spend to much time with her. She had just gotten married and was busy with the preparations. She looked the most like her mom.
Peter Fischer
Albert’s father, about 50 years old, long grey beard. He looked like either a short Gandalf or a tall dwarf. He had a stiff walk, which was something I’ve seen among a lot of other elderly Amish farmers. I could tell that he worked hard his entire life and his body had paid for it. He was always very kind to me and wished that I could have hung around longer. Even though he was dedicated to sustainable farming, I found it ironic that he would have highly questionable foods in his kitchen.
Elizabeth Fischer
Albert’s mom, about 50 years old. She was short, stooped over, grey hair and had non-beauty mark moles with hairs growing out of them on her face. She was slightly hard of hearing and a little senile. She was generally very serious but I could always manage to get a smile out of her I could tell that she is definitely a farmer’s wife and had led a grueling life. She might have been pretty once, but time had not been kind. She was a foreshadowing for her daughters; they might be pretty now, but give them 20 years and watch out!
Homer and Lisa Adams
Homer was the quintessential successful sexy Amish man. Tall, handsome, kind and a beautiful family, he seemed to have it all. His farm was a big contrast from Albert’s where the energy was generally more stressful. He had an all Jersey herd that produced incredible dairy; he grew vegetables as well. He and his wife Lisa had two boys. Lisa was one of the main reasons that they started getting into a healthier lifestyle. She had poor health much of her life; raw dairy and unprocessed foods are helping her recover.
No comments:
Post a Comment