Chapter 10: Bees and Farming (1) TL: Hanguk
"Annoying! So annoying!"
At Elaina’s rough tantrum, the girls looking at her couldn’t hide their discomfort. It was because they knew well that the daughter of the owner of Silver Oak Farm, the best grape farm in Napa Valley, had quite the temper.
Even so, there was a girl whom even Elaina couldn’t treat carelessly.
"Just forget it. At least you got a hit in, right?"
At Chloe’s words, Elaina barely held back her anger and said,
“Stupid, filthy immigrants (Wetbacks)...”
Her tone, using a racial slur that demeaned Mexican immigrants, made the girls reveal slightly shocked expressions, but none of them could bring themselves to directly tell her she was wrong.
Chloe was the same, but she frowned at Elaina’s next words.
“That yellow monkey too. Some monkey from a countryside dump...”
“Stop it, okay?”
“......”
At Chloe’s tone, sounding a bit pissed, Elaina’s eyes widened for a moment. No matter how she was the daughter of the owner of Napa Valley’s best grape farm, she couldn’t compare to Chloe’s family.
Of course, she also fell far behind in the school’s beauty-power hierarchy, so Elaina couldn’t behave recklessly in front of Chloe.
"And Brian didn't really say anything to you, right? He just greeted you, didn't he?"
“Well, that’s...”
“I know you’re angry, but leave it at that. Forget it and let’s have a party this weekend. Evan said he’d bring the football team guys to this one.”
“... Fine.”
After soothing Elaina appropriately, Chloe glanced toward where Brian should be as she passed the lecture hall, but she couldn’t find him.
Letting out a quiet sigh, she passed through the hall with an unreadable expression.
A corner of the school soccer field.
“Was what I did really that wrong?”
Looking down at Armando, who was clutching his head in distress, I clicked my tongue while standing.
"Tsk tsk... That's why you shouldn't say unnecessary things."
“I was curious!”
“... You’re hopeless when it comes to dating. The important thing in dating is not blurting out exactly what’s in your head.”
“Really? There’s such a thing?”
“You wouldn’t know. Anyway, that’s how it is. The most important thing in dating is reading the room. Sense.”
“Haa... Does that mean I can’t work out with Christina?”
“Why does your conclusion go there? After getting slapped by Elaina?”
In the end, Elaina couldn’t hold back her anger and smacked Armando across the ear. The shock of that moment...
Since Armando knew he had made a mistake, he only rubbed the cheek he was hit on with an aggrieved expression, while I quietly backed away, worried I’d get hit too, watching Elaina’s mood.
“But honestly, I still feel wronged. Not because I got hit, but because putting grapes soaked in pesticides out there, if they’re going to use pesticides, they should at least admit it. Pretending it’s organic and deceiving people is really a problem!”
“It is a problem, but you didn’t have to bring it up.”
“That’s true.”
Admitting his mistake meekly, Armando suddenly lifted his head and asked,
“You guys aren’t entering the competition?”
“You know the state of our farm. The previous owner sold off all the usable grapes, and with the leftovers we’re making vinegar.”
“Vinegar?”
“Yeah.”
“Ehh...”
“But next year, we’re entering. Table grapes competition.”
“Really? It won’t be easy.”
“I’m confident. Next year, what we grow at our Redwood Farm will be recognized as the best grapes in Napa Valley.”
Maybe because I sounded so confident? Armando widened his eyes and stared blankly at me before saying,
“That’s amazing. You really have incredible confidence. Are all Asians like that?”
“Let’s just say I’m a bit special.”
“Ooh, then hire me at your farm. I want to learn from you.”
“Huh? Hey... I don’t teach just anyone.”
Armando suddenly grabbed my leg.
“Please!”
“Fine. I’ll think about it.”
“Hahaha! Great!”
After going through all that trouble and returning home, I, as always, tossed my bag into the farm storage and headed for the winery.
“How is it?”
My parents, seeing that I had arrived, greeted me with bright smiles.
“You’re here? How’s the smell?”
The winery was filled with the grape aroma mixed with the sour scent of acetic acid. Just from the smell alone, I could tell that things were progressing properly.
"Ooh- It seems to be going well?"
“Right? What if this sells really well?”
Mom was already happily worrying about it.
“Worry about that once we see the results.”
At that moment, Dad looked at the large tank that was maturing nicely and spoke with concern.
“So now we just wait? What are we supposed to do in the meantime? Pest control is all finished...”
“Are you worried because there’s nothing to do?”
“Isn’t it obvious? At this point, your mom alone could handle everything here, and for a farmer to just sit still... it makes me uneasy.”
Dad, who had shown such strong determination to avoid any further failure, already seemed anxious now that he finally had a bit of free time.
“Don’t worry. We have plenty of work.”
“A lot of work?”
“Of course. Did you think we’d just do pest control once and wait until spring?”
“That wasn’t it?”
“Dad. What did I tell you? I said I’d make sure we grew the best Cabernet Sauvignon in Napa Valley. How could that be possible by just relying on the weather?”
“Well... that’s true.”
“From now on, you and I are going to make compost. This is compost that didn’t exist before, something I learned at school.”
Of course, compost like this was not something you’d ever see in school during this time period. What I intended to make was biochar-complex compost (Pyro-Compost).
“Really? How do you make it?”
“First, we need a drum.”
“A drum? What? We’re not buying one?”
“No, we’re not buying it. Go find a drum somewhere. And gather thick things like branches and rice hulls. Also get grape skins and the like. But never bring wet plywood or painted wood.”
“Then... what are you doing?”
“...... I’ll try to gather some grape skins. Ah, and I’ll bring dust masks and gloves.”
As expected, handling Dad wasn’t easy.
"Will this do?"
Dad somehow managed to find a pretty decent drum. He worked hard gathering the materials I mentioned, and I didn’t slack either, I gathered things like grape skins and branches. Since the surrounding area was all farmland, finding branches from dead trees wasn’t difficult.
I grabbed the used drum we had prepared and moved it to the center of the yard. When it touched the ground, it made a dull thud.
“What do we do now?”
“Use nails to punch some holes in the drum. Not on the top, only around the bottom...”
“How many holes?”
“About... fifteen to twenty?”
Dad nodded lightly, rolled up his sleeves, and began working. Metal met hammer with a bright clang, clang echoing through the yard. While he punched holes into the drum, I carefully stacked the materials inside.
“Is it done?”
“Yes.”
I layered the scraps and branches until the drum was half full, then lit a fire from the top. The flames slowly began burning downward, and soon the entire top of the drum was covered in fire.
“Okay, now we’re going to partially cover the lid to control the airflow. Dad, please prepare some sand and a fire extinguisher over there.”
Dad brought over the fire extinguisher and sand right away. I placed the lid on the drum at an angle so that just the right amount of air could flow in.
“But what exactly is this?”
“Ah, this is called biochar-complex compost. The biochar here is similar to charcoal, a carbon form made so that it doesn’t burn completely due to limited oxygen. If you just look at it, you can think, ‘Ah, it’s charcoal.’”
This time, Mom, who had been watching, asked,
“What’s good about doing this?”
“I told you it’s similar to charcoal once it’s done, right? The countless micro-pores in the charcoal act like a sponge and hold water and nutrients. That way, even during drought it holds up well, and when it rains a lot, the fertilizer doesn’t wash away easily.”
“Oh my, really?”
“On top of that, it absorbs compost odors, so the smell drops drastically, and it also helps microorganisms reproduce well.”
Dad, who had been listening quietly, asked,
“It sounds great. So what’s better about this compared to fertilizer?”
“Oh, think of this as something that helps fertilizer. Since it keeps the soil around the roots moist for a long time, irrigation costs... well, they’ll drop at least twenty to thirty percent. And phosphorus (P) and potassium (K) get absorbed better, so fertilizer costs go down too. Maybe by about twenty percent? And since organic carbon in the soil increases, the taste and aroma of the grapes deepen.”
Dad’s eyes widened at my explanation.
“That much?”
“Yes. It also reduces variations in acidity and sugar levels. So of course we should do it, right?”
"Y-yeah..."
As we talked and worked, about forty minutes passed, and the amount of smoke noticeably decreased. I quickly put out the fire using the extinguisher and sand.
“It’s done. Now we let it cool, then crush it, and the biochar will be complete.”
Once cooled, we crushed the biochar with wooden mallets and pickaxes until it reached the size of small beans. With masks on, Mom and Dad swung their pickaxe and mallet diligently, and I worked hard between them too.
Once the biochar was ready, we moved on to the next step: mixing it with compost.
“We’re going to mix the compost and biochar in a nine-to-one ratio. The moisture level should be just enough that it slightly breaks apart when you clump it in your hand.”
I explained while shoveling the compost and biochar evenly together. Dad focused intently and copied what I did.
“Now we cover this with plastic and let it mature for about two weeks. Then microorganisms will enter the pores of the charcoal, letting the crops grow well.”
“I see... Our son is really amazing.”
Mom grabbed my hand with a moved expression.
“Haha... don’t say it like that, it’s embarrassing... Of course I should do this.”
“Then what do we do after the two weeks?” Dad asked, eyes full of expectation.
I went to the nearest grapevine, dug a shallow trench around its base with my hand, and said,
“See here? Along the circumference of the grapevine trunk, dig a trench about five to ten centimeters deep like this, then spread about a handful of the charcoal inside and cover it with soil.”
“Ooh, I see.”
Straightening my back, I looked at the tree and gently touched the trunk that had been weakened significantly by powdery mildew.
“If they eat well and grow, by next spring we’ll see healthy new shoots.”