Annotated Photo Essay, Hang-Along
Pressing the horn twice—honk honk—the gate opens and I drive into the azienda of Olio Claudio for I do not know how many times in the order. I park my car at the same spot that I have done ever since I paid my first visit here on the tenth of September last year; habitual person as I am. Matter of being, I find much comfort knowing my spot, parking-wise and otherwise, as such habitual orientation in time and space provides me—as it does so many others—a particularized sense of feeling part of the context within which I find myself. Now, it may take quite some time and effort to achieve such a homely sense of being in settings previously unfamiliar to any given person: having learnt-by-doing much of the time conducting this fieldwork, I have experienced this rather vividly, not to say corporeally. Interestingly enough though, and this I have a hard time explaining in words, for it is a sensation beyond that which is spoken, but I have since my very first encounter with Giorgio in December 2019 felt much at home hanging-along in the work—and company—of his as well as his team of workers: whether it takes place at the azienda or out in the orchards, and whether I am completely new to the practices and places partaken or habitually accustomed to them, I sense myself at home in the setting, much like I had, I immagine, had I always-already been familiar to it; that is, also beyond these past nine months of fieldworking in it.
Having parked my car at my usual spot, I grab my pen and notebook, remove the keys from the steering wheels, and step out of the vehicle. The sun shines and it is about 25 degrees Celsius, much the same as that very first encounter with this place. Also much resemblant my first encounters here, I am also this day—which occurred yesterday—met by the sound of two of the guys chopping wood in the yard of the azienda. It is Luigi and a relatively new guy, Danilo, that are using the wood splitter in finishing an order of firewood. Two of the other guys, Giovanni and Giampiero, are out in the orchards pruning polloni; that is, they work with removing sprouts growing from the roots of the trees so to preserve the growth of one strong trunk of these otherwise bush-growing plants. Meanwhile Fabrizio, come di solito, occurs found fixing whatever needs fixing and repairing whatever needs repairing with some machineries and tractors. Giorgio, who I usually find in the office working with orders, payments, and other administrative work of sorts in these morning hours, sits by a table in the garage studying for an exam. Attending to my arrival, he tells me that the exam, if he passes it, will allow him to do the professional work of an agronomist and officially title himself accordingly. Later, as we drive around for a while, he explains in detail the value of obtaining such a titoli professionali, noting at once the pride and monetary advantages of doing so. Comfortable to just hang-along whatever work currently taking place here, I think to leave him to it, to his studies that is, so I tell him that I will go out a bit to Luigi and Danilo. He stops me before I have a chance entering the courtyard; he remarks that he is done studying for now and asks me if I wish to do something in particular today. Well, I truly enjoy hanging-along as he drives around to oversee the work and growth taking place in the orchards and fields of his. I do so primarily as these moments in the car commonly allows for deeper conversations about things, but also as I am curious to note what occurs in the orchards this particular day. Said and done, we go for a drive, first to the re-plantations of Pagliara and afterwards to the orchard where Giovanni and Giampiero are working. I follow Giorgio, first as he observes—in part also removes—the growth of plants at Pagliara, and thereafter as he takes note of the growing olives, their count alongside their hardly visible presence, in the orchard currently becoming pruned by Giovanni and Giampiero. He remarks that one needs to be rather close to the trees to be able to see the gems now that the flowers have fallen. Conducting daily fieldworks in various orchards, I have noticed that too. Moreover, pointing to some yellow leaves with spots, he further denotes how they have treated the trees with copper, so to make these fungi-affected leaves drop to the ground. We walk through the orchard, paying attention to olives and leaves for a while before returning to the azienda. Once back, Giorgio continues studying and I take a moment observing the young plants at the courtyard, which are meant to be planted as soon as the fields of Rosario has been prepared for replantation. Among other things, I notice some dried-out plants and make Giorgio aware of the situation, whereupon he leaves his notebooks at the table to water the plants. I walk to watch the wood chopping, and passing the two apricot trees on the way, I notice the quickly maturing of the fruit: they were all green last week, camouflaged with the leafwork, only to be vibrantly yellow-orange-marbled this week. I sense much the same about the maturing gems of olives, although yet an entire season away from harvest, which I by the way cannot wait to once again experience. Some fifteen minutes before lunch time, which occurs at 13:00, everybody returns to the azienda, and before leaving for the day, machineries becomes cleaned and prepared for an easy start tomorrow morning. Likewise, the bucket with gasoline and lubricants used during pruning becomes refilled, as much for a smooth start of the day as for a smooth working with the chainsaws.
