It was two years ago.  I was at a party on the island.  I thought I knew everyone but it seemed I was mistaken.  My host and I were talking when a young woman walked by with appetizers.  “Who’s she?” I asked.  “Woofer,” he said. 

Now I don’t normally feel the need to defend the planet from sexism or rudeness in all its manifest forms but ‘woofer’ seemed a bit harsh even to me.  I gallantly rose to the occasion and said, “Oh yeah?  I’ll admit that she’s no Angelina Jolie but, really man, calling her a ‘woofer’ is just plain rude!”

“Dave, Dave.  Calm down.  ‘Woof’ is spelled W-W-O-O-F-’.  It stands for ‘World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms’.  It’s a volunteer program.  Hosts feed and house young people, often from other countries, in exchange for farm, ranch or homestead work. Typically, hosts have rural homes on acreages, like us.  Jen is ‘wwoofing’ here.  She’s from Australia.  She’ll help out in the garden and maybe chop some wood and then, in a week or so, move on to another host.”

I was hooked by the concept of the program.  I contacted WWOOF, sent in my name with a brief write-up, paid my dues, and waited for the Wwoofers to bark at my door.  Sure enough, Sarah and Constance soon e-mailed an application from England.  The game was afoot.

These two young school teachers arrived all pasty-white and ‘English’.   I didn’t think they’d make it up the trail let alone work like the Sherpas I had hoped for.  But they were fun and delightful company and we had a great introductory meal before they took to the guest room.  And they did the dishes without prompting and so Sally was already on side.

Next day was log-hauling, bucking and chopping.  Then carrying and stacking.  I intended to start slow and quit early as is my usual practice with just about everything except reading and drinking Scotch.  They’d have none of it.  These two young people worked like slaves.  It was hell.  I couldn’t get them to stop so I kept bringing in logs.  We probably put in two cords that day.  Roughly twice what I am willing to do on my own.   Finally, we quit, had dinner and they did the dishes again.

I was starting to like this wwoofing-thing.  It was nice having young people do as I told them, an experience foreign to me since my own kids were about six. They were even polite enough to suffer through a few of my stories (…an experience foreign to me since my kids were about six…).  No choice, really, as we don’t have TV.  Naturally, trying desperately to remain sane, they went to bed early. 

And so it went for a week.  When Sarah and Constance left for another wwoofing gig on Hornby Island they left as friends with their legacy our winter’s firewood.  We are still in touch.  It was a good experience for all of us.  And lots of fun.

This year, we have already hosted Ken and Deanne.  Ken is from Eastern Europe and Deanne from the Maritimes.  More wood.  More fun.  It’s been good.  Ken works like Paul Bunyan and eats like his ox, Babe.  Financially it is not quite the same great deal as it was with the two school teachers but we’re only out by a few tons of potatoes and an ox or two.  Ken is a hard worker, good company and lots of fun.  So is Deanne.

Each wwoofer is different.  Some speak English poorly.  Some, perhaps, not much at all.  Some are small and unskilled, others are Amazons and work like machines.  Generally speaking, they are all willing out-of-province or out-of-country workers looking for a natural experience in a cottage-cum-homestead setting.  They need a place to sleep and put their belongings, some inclusive ‘family time’, usually around meals or chores and some free time.  They work half a day or one day out of two although the woofers we have met helped out a little all the time.  And they need good food.  For more information, go to http://www.wwoof.org 

I love my country lifestyle and, if there is anything missing, it is sharing it with others.  Within reason, of course.  Sometimes guests are not into the work and the chores we have to do.  They prefer the deck and the mint juleps.  That’s fine by me – I am a deck and julep kind of guy by nature, myself.  But, when you come across young people (everyone under 50 is now in that category for me) who appreciate the environment, appreciate the setting, the cabin, the whole enchilada and are willing to contribute to the effort, it is a bonding experience.  Friendships are formed around this kind of stuff.  It’s a very good thing.  I strongly recommend the wwoofing work experience to young people and hosting wwoofers to the older ones.