Summer's Bounty

It's July here in the Midwest. Hot, humid sticky weather that has most city folk complaining. For farmers, it's a paradise: barring any unforeseen destructive storms, 2010 promises to be a banner year. At least in Illinois and our neighboring states.


As I've mentioned in previous posts, I tend to look at life from a more inclusive perspective these days. Hooray for the prairie, bursting at the seams with bountiful blessings. Fresh and green indeed!

I've become a somewhat dedicated locavore. For those unfamiliar with the word, that means I try to eat food that was grown or raised within 200 miles of my house. It's better for the planet (saves on transportation costs), better for our bodies (we are biologically programmed to eat seasonal foods), and better for the small, non-Big Agriculture farmers. Our local Farmer's Market has new goodies each week, right now we're in "berry season" -- Michigan's blueberries, strawberries, blackberries and raspberries are finding their way to our dinner, er, I mean dessert plates in wonderful ways!

In the midst of all this, I find my heart breaking for the farmers and fishermen in the Gulf states. It's not just going to be a rotten year for them, it may be a rotten decade or two. Although Mother Earth has remarkable self-healing properties, She's going to have a tough assignment bouncing back from the BP oil spill. Since eighty-five percent of the seafood we consume in the United States comes from the Gulf region, we are in for some dietary adjustment. Shrimp is a staple in our household. Guess I'm going to have to forgo one of my favorite foods, or pay dearly for it to be imported from someplace else.

But that's my point, or the point of this blog anyway. I have that option. I can fill my larder with other foods, I can adjust to not having a weekly shrimp dinner. For almost 10 percent of Ethiopia's 77 million people, the concept of a larder is unimaginable. With six major droughts in the past two decades, Africa's second-most populated country can't seem to get a break. Many opt to move to Addis Ababa, only to find their situation worse than the village they left in the countryside.

For all 90 students at the Academy, there is no larder to come home to. No Farmer's Market, no high-priced sea food. It's common practice in parts of Ethiopia for mothers to sprinkle gasoline on their children's hands -- the smell quells hunger pangs. For awhile anyway.

And because this is America, we will find some way to take care of our citizens in the Gulf region. They will certainly have to make some life-changing choices, but chances are good they will not starve. Their children won't have to sniff gasoline or go to bed hungry. Government programs, charities, and our unwavering and ever-present volunteerism will help get them through this difficult time.

Ethiopia has virtually no organized in-country mechanism for food distribution to the poor. According to the 2010 Index for Economic Freedom (http://www.heritage.org/index/Country/Ethiopia), corruption is seen as pervasive. Ethiopia ranks 126 out of 179 countries on the Transparency Index, America ranks eighth. What this means in real-life is that much of the money directed toward hunger relief in Ethiopia more often than not gets funneled elsewhere.

Ethiopians get by with help from Non-Governmental Organizations (NGOs). Friends of Fresh and Green is a very small NGO, but through the generosity of our donors, we manage to keep 90 students educated and nourished, and 22 mothers as well.


In giving thanks for this summer of plenitude here in the Midwest, I also have to give thanks for the philanthropic spirit of so many of my friends and neighbors. People are giving what they can to wildlife and wetland rehabilitation in the Gulf, and to so many other worthy causes, including Friends of Fresh and Green. Paying it forward for Mother Earth, sharing the gift of "having more than enough." Bounty brings a smile to my face.