Kodagu’s Agricultural Landscape – Clips from my first report

Beware, this is long!  

Because I’m getting graduate school credit for my time in India, I’ve been writing papers from time to time.  Here are some clips from the first of the series, a brief background about agriculture in India, public policy, and the local environment.  Let me know what you think!

Although India embodies a great diversity of livelihoods, languages, and cultures, it remains predominantly an agricultural country.  According to the last census, over 72 percent of India’s population lives in rural areas, and up to 50 percent of income generated in those areas is from farm income.  India was a key player in the Green Revolution in the 1960s, when several developing countries greatly increased food production by adopting new technologies.  Not all of these technologies were sustainable over the long-term, and pesticides and fertilizers introduced during and after that time have degraded soil quality to an extreme level.  As a result, India now faces a complex problem of food production in the face of severe environmental conditions.  In India, there are stories of mass suicides of farmers in Andhra Pradesh who can no longer coax their crops to grow, and of soil in Punjab that can no longer absorb water at all. 

In Kodagu, a region in southwestern Karnataka that is host to one of India’s only tropical rainforest belts, the farmers are many and diverse.  Amongst the large coffee and spice plantations, there are small landholders growing vegetables for home consumption and fruits for the local market, coffee for their breakfast tables and spices for their kitchens; organic cooperatives, research farms, and self-help groups diversify the agricultural landscape.  The NGO I am working with, Worldwide Association for the Preservation & Restoration of Ecological Diversity (WAPRED), has developed an organic research farm near Madikeri, in the hills of Kodagu, and has helped establish two organic growers cooperatives in the region – one locally within the town of Galibeedu, and the other a collection of large organic growers in southern Kodagu.  My placement with WAPRED involves me in a local effort to reverse the harmful effects of “conventional” nonorganic farming by encouraging organic cultivation through education and marketing assistance.
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With a growing population and diminishing open land, India is struggling to meet its own food needs while developing its agriculture sector to compete in the global market.  Scholars have shown that Indian farmers tend “to apply excessive fertilizer” to their crops, and to spray pesticides to such an extent that natural predators of pests are wiped out as well (Swaminathan 2006).  It is well known that this model of agriculture is unsustainable due to soil degradation, falling water tables, and the harmful effects of the chemicals, which include pesticides banned in the United States.  In contrast, research has shown that growing crops organically can boost farm incomes and at the same time improve the agricultural environment.  In Karnataka, politicians have given lip service to the need to develop sustainable means of agriculture in India, but often these organic pilot projects have fallen to corruption and misappropriation of funds.

In Karnataka, the issue of corruption in the face of good intentions is especially pronounced.  The Karnataka state government has enacted several schemes to improve farming methods and markets over the years, some that specifically attempt to encourage organic farming.  In 2008, the Karnataka state government allotted 100 crore rupees (about 21.5 million US dollars) over the next five years to encourage organic farming in the state.  Meant for the farmers themselves, the money was distributed to 29 NGOs in the 29 districts that make up Karnataka (MeriNews 2009).  Despite many officials in government lauding the program’s success and asking for additional funds to continue the program next year, others have called for a probe into the project.  One spokesperson, A.N. Mahesh of the Chikmagalur District Congress Committee, explained that the funds have gone directly to sympathizers of the majority government, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP).  The national newspaper, The Hindu, writes,

Displaying a list of beneficiaries from Chikmagalur taluk, [Mahesh] said most of them were rich farmers and sympathisers of the BJP. He said Rs. 38,000 had been provided for office expenditure each month although most of the organisations did not have an office. He said lavatories were built under the Ashraya housing scheme were being included in this scheme.

In this environment, real progress on agriculture issues has been severely stunted.  Although many farmers voice interest in using organic methods for economic reasons, they continue to receive mixed messages from the government.  Despite the official movement toward organic agriculture, the bulk of outreach and extension services promote the same high-input practices that have rendered Indian agriculture unsustainable.

In Kodagu, a hilly region of southwestern Karnataka, concerns about organic and nonorganic farming are amplified because of the unique ecosystem that the region inhabits.  Kodagu makes up a portion of the Western Ghats, a long strip of rainforest along the western edge of the Deccan plateau extending from the border of Maharashtra and Gujarat through Goa, Karnataka, and Tamil Nadu, and into Kerala, India’s southernmost state.  The Western Ghats has been labeled one of the world’s biodiversity hotspots, and several NGOs and research stations have been set up to document and preserve the area.  At the same time, pressures to expand agricultural usage in the area conflict with any widespread conservation efforts.  Kodagu is home to several Tata Coffee and Tea Estates, one of India’s largest private companies, as well as a plethora of small and large farming operations.  With coffee prices climbing internationally, and the region known for climatic abilities to produce distinctive coffee tastes, it is difficult if not impossible to slow the spread of the farming operations.  While good in some ways for development, the environmental toll could be devastating for the ecological balance and long-term agricultural sustainability of the strip of rainforest known as the Western Ghats. 

Locally, agricultural activities range from large commercial landholdings to subsistence farming of one to three acres.  The main crops are coffee, cardamom, and black pepper, although many farmers also grow a variety of citrus fruits, garcinia, pineapple, and vegetables, either for home use or to sell in the local markets.  The nature and extent of the agricultural activities depends largely on the elevation and rainfall of the area, of which Kodagu has a great variety.  During my time in Kodagu, I will focus on two very different areas for my project work.  The first is the immediate area around the research farm where I live, near the small town of Galibeedu.  This area is located in a high rainfall zone of around 200 inches per year.  The rain dramatically alters the landscape by creating dense jungle valleys interspersed by grassy hilltops.  Because the region sees so much rainfall, yields of coffee and cardamom are generally lower than in other areas of Kodagu, and some crops that are prone to fungus and disease, such as black pepper, are not quite as common.  In this area around Galibeedu, most farms are small, and the markets are local.  While farmers generally do not use heavy inputs of fertilizers or chemical pesticides, they are also not growing their crops strictly organically.  Because the farms are small and the farmers are largely uneducated and impoverished, they have no way to access large or diverse markets that could help them realize better prices for their crops. 

WAPRED has begun to work with this community by reaching out to individual farmers and sharing organic farming methods, and by helping to start the Galibeedu Organic Association (GOA).  GOA is meant to support subsistence farmers in the immediate area as they develop their farms and adopt organic methods.  GOA could be an important link between local farmers and wider markets, especially because many of the local farmers are already growing their produce organically.  If these farmers can access higher prices for their goods, through a cooperative such as GOA, it will help boost farmers’ livelihoods and encourage more farmers to grow their crops organically.  GOA has been slow to start, largely because of a disconnect that exists between the research farm and the surrounding farmers.  In order to address this issue, part of my assignment will be to visit each farmer in the nearby area, discuss their methods, problems, and the markets they use, and begin a systematic outreach initiative. 

As a contrast to this local work I will be doing with small organic growers, I also hope to help develop a new organic cooperative formed by larger, more dispersed growers in Kodagu.  The farms that make up the Organic Association of Kodagu (OAK) are all certified organic farms, and most are located in southern Kodagu.  Southern Kodagu is warmer, drier (seeing 55-100 inches of rain annually), and flatter, and is consequently more productive and generally better connected to state resources and wider markets.  In this region, several farmer cooperatives have already been started and are actively supporting farmers’ access to sustainable inputs and wider, more profitable markets.  OAK was formed in 2008 as a resource-sharing network, and the farmers meet every two months to discuss their methods, problems, and potential solutions. 

At the moment, the OAK members do not formally share market networks, but there is potential for doing so.  Many of the farms sell their coffee in international markets, and receive premiums of 15 percent or more for their organic produce.  They are limited, however, by the difficulty of finding suitable coffee roasters or exporters and by large export minimums of 1,000 bags of coffee, or 50,000 kg.  This is where a strong cooperative could greatly assist the farmers, and potentially set up a way to connect the large and small growers.  Over the long term, these two projects could overlap, in that the small farmers in Galibeedu could eventually access the market networks that WAPRED sets up through the OAK network.  This, however, is most likely beyond my 10-month tenure at WAPRED.  The most I can try for is to lay a foundation for the NGO, and perhaps its future interns, by expanding WAPRED’s outreach initiatives among farmers, by documenting and mapping the local farmers, and by investigating and developing market networks. 

Photos: 1- One of the OAK farmers' coffee, about to be sold;  2- New coffee leaves on a Kodagu plantation

Fresh Winds Blowing Through

In the mornings now a strong wind whips through the surrounding rainforest valleys and the farm where we live.  It lulls us to sleep and then wakes us up with the sound of the ocean, a rhythmic lapping at our doors and windows.  At first I didn’t believe that the rainforest had a winter, but here it is, with a refreshing tinge of northeastern fall, with a wind that sweeps through our mornings to begin each day with fresh new air.

Last night, Halloween, was a real treat.  Lauren, Matt, Maya and I carved pumpkins in the afternoon, and then the gals baked for most of the rest of the day- brownies with oats from scratch, and roasted pumpkin seeds.  It was Maya’s first pumpkin-carving experience, and she went at it with creative gumption, carving a dolphin under a crescent moon.  Maya is the 11-year old daughter of our hosts here, and as we make this our home little by little, she is often the one leading us along.  The other day she had me dictate (in Hindi) a letter she was writing to her grandmother, and last night she made my Halloween.  She not only created my entire costume (a puppy mask, made out of bamboo husk), but she also showed me a glimmer of what she loves about her home. 


We were searching for suitable bamboo husks beyond the edge of light thrown off by the campfire when she called me over.  She was crouching by the stream that runs along the side of the dining area, and directed me to sit beside her.  ‘Look up,’ she said, when I had squatted beside her, and there between a border of bamboo leaves rose the waxing moon in a clear sky.  ‘Now take a deep breath,’ she said.  ‘I love the air here….so fresh.’  In my mind I thought- what a lucky kid; she’s barely known another breath of air.  And then I felt sorry for us Americans, all coming from cities and lapping up the freshness here as if it’s something novel.

The crisp new wind has also inspired a general zeal among all of us at the farm.  I’ve been going at my work with new resolve, whether in the garden, at interviews with neighboring farms, or leading discussions about social surveys.  It helps that we’ve been here a few months now, but it’s beginning to feel like I have a place here and a purpose, even if it’s just to figure out what’s going on in the local farming community.

A few days ago I visited a neighboring farm, and for the first time I was on my own.  I was with a translator, of course, and even got a ride on a scooter to the nearest turnoff, but in terms of initiative, questioning, and connecting, it was up to me.  Muthu, my translator, and I left the scooter at a steep fork at the top of a hill and walked down between coffee trees to a dusty clearing in the forest canopy.  Muthu pointed out the new vermicomposting pit the farmers had built last year, and then a round woman with a huge, welcoming smile walked out into the clearing to say hello.  We exchanged greetings and were ushered inside, where sweet tea was put on the stove and the conversation began.

For the past two months, I’ve struggled to find the purpose behind the questions I’ve been asking farmers.  The NGO I’m working with is interested in developing a multi-faceted research project that sets economic and social data alongside biodiversity records.  The idea is to show that different farming methods produce different kinds of biodiversity (and varying levels of predatory animals that will go after agricultural pests), and that this in turn influences the productivity of the farm.  It’s a huge endeavor, and one that none of us are quite sure how to begin.

Part of the problem is our sheer American-ness.  I hear about a research problem and I want to know the methods, the background, and the goals before I start.  I want to fit the research ideas into a neat little package, and go out with a clear set of intentions and a well-vetted survey technique.  With this, I had none of that, and our Indian hosts thought there was nothing wrong with that.  It’s not a bad thing, it’s just a different thing, and it’s been part of the orientation process to get used to it.

So when I left for that recent farm visit, I started fresh.  I decided that I didn’t want to know anything in particular except as much as I could gather from an open-ended discussion of farming methods, awareness, goals, and problems on the farm.  I would revert to my undergraduate training and approach the visit as an anthropologist rather than a graduate researcher.  I would listen and engage, and hopefully connect.

We had tea together, and Parle G biscuits, and the woman’s mother-in-law came in to role herself a bit of paan (betel, a nicotine-ified substance grown right on the farm).  They wanted to know where I came from and pointed out that I looked much younger than the 26 years I declared.  They asked if I was alone, and I stumbled over the answer, saying that I came to India with one ‘husband.’  That seemed to satisfy them, and I decided that I need to practice that little white lie.

The interview meandered among various topics, pausing to shoe away chickens and gather dry clothes off the line outside.  I took pages of notes, and learned more about vermicomposting, coffee price fluctuations, and the ‘sangha’ work-share committees than I had known before.  But most of all, I connected with the women, and with Muthu, who patiently translated all of my questions and answers.  By the end of the conversation, the women made it clear that I was welcome back again, and that they would like to hear about anything that would make their farming easier- whether with prices, or composting, or pest problems.  It was a good start for a needs assessment, and for a year spent among the farmers in this area. 

I could chalk the change up to the winter wind starting things fresh, but maybe it’s instead the perspective I’m gaining on letting things unfold rather than trying to keep them in tidy packages.  In any case, it’s a much more pleasant place to be, and I’ll be happy if I can continue to float on the winds of conversation.