Maung Tun Thu - Our Land

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Our Farmland is a novel about the problems and hardships faced by farmers in the American South in the 1930s. You won't find love, nostalgia, or fantasy in this novel. You will probably find the desires that arise naturally in human nature.

In any case, Our Land is a novel that depicts the lives of farmers who love, cherish, have a strong bond with, and are very confident about the land.

It is a novel that depicts their lives, struggling between the benefits and hardships of the land. Therefore, I think that the lessons from the land of our land can be beneficial (in one way or another) for farmers around the world.

Maung Tun Thu

October 1, 2000

The time for spring plowing has passed.

The weather has been dry throughout the last two weeks of February,

There were about two or three years when the weather conditions were not conducive to plowing, planting, or sowing.

As is common, the ground tends to become wet and slushy within a few days of rain,

However, this year the timing seems to be late. The season starts in mid-February. The sky is also clear and cloudless.

The wind that has been blowing ever since the winter rains stopped has dried up whatever moisture remains in the ground.

Farmers around Phula who were working hard to plant this year's yellow rice had all finished plowing by the end of February.

There is no evidence that anyone can say for sure why they started so early, before the season was right.

Since the crop is planted early, it is exposed to the hot season, resulting in lower yields per acre.

They believe that if fertilizer could be purchased in abundance and used as desired, the yield per acre could increase significantly.

The farmers around Phula's goal is to produce one large bale of cotton per acre,

However, if the cotton harvest is delayed until the summer, the cotton yield is reduced by about half.

Furthermore, in years with good cotton yields, cotton prices tend to fall.

Throughout his life, Gita would burn the sedges and pine saplings that grew on the fields at the same time as the season began.

The entire spring was spent plowing and weeding.

Now she can do both, and it's not too late.

But there was no donkey in Geeta's hand,

He also did not sell cotton seeds and fertilizers on credit. He had high hopes that this year, with a mule, he would be able to get the necessary supplies on time.

However, that hope is now at a point where it is about to be dashed.

If he says that if he doesn't plant this year, he will be able to plant next year, then he has a valid answer.

However, that solution was not as enthusiastic as before, and his spirits had dropped even lower.

His condition has also been getting worse and worse year after year.

Even the faith that had always existed between God and the earth was shattered.

He has nothing, why is this happening? He tries to understand this.

I don't understand, he has no sign of possessing anything his entire life, why does it have to be like this?

There was no one around him who understood this. Therefore, there was no one who could explain it to him in a way that made him understand. This was an unsolvable secret of his life.

In any case, he hopes that he will be able to make the necessary preparations before he can plant the cotton he wants to grow this year.

He can burn the garbage, bushes, tall grasses, and large pine trees on the farm.

If you are lucky enough to have a donkey, seeds, and fertilizer, you can plant in time. If you keep tilling the soil as you do every year, when the time comes...

It was the afternoon of the first week of March.

Jita was walking through the sedges in the old cotton field.

He kicked the ground with his boot the whole way.

I started to think that if I could buy only the necessary items on credit from stores in Phula, I would still be able to make ends meet.

The burning and plowing of fields ended yesterday,

But the scent of life remains. The smell of earth and burning pine needles lingers in the warm March air.

Geeta breathed in the scents in the air.

“God wants to help us grow cotton,” said one. “He came here and made the earth, and he made the sun and the rain, and somehow he had to make the seeds and the soil fertile.”

Ji still firmly believed that a situation would arise in which his body and mind could continue to thrive. That hope still took root in his heart. The afternoon sun was warm, the wind was blowing gently, and the nights had not been cold for a week, and many people were able to sit in front of the elephant enclosure at nightfall.

A gentle breeze was blowing from the east. Smoke from the burning sedges on the field was drifting westward. Jita looked up at the smoke as it drifted away from her.

Around this area there are many acres of abandoned farmland that have not been burned. They have been left uncultivated for a long time. Some of them have been there for ten to fifteen years. On the other side of the farmland are pine forests,

“If only Tom and the other boys would help me get cotton seeds and fertilizer,” he muttered. “I know a place where I can get cotton seeds and fertilizer and I can hire a mule, but without cotton seeds and fertilizer, the mule is useless. I can’t grow anything on the land except for juniper and weeds.”

He walked back to the house and sat on the back step stool.