Volunteers benefit by working for free
PAICINES, Calif. — The morning sun lights up blue lupin and magenta owl's clover as Erik Ramfjord and Andrew Riddle scoop soured milk into a trough, drawing delighted squeals from a dozen free-range pigs.
A month ago, Ramfjord was an unmotivated biology major in Oregon, and Riddle didn't know what he wanted from Humboldt State University in Northern California. Now they are energized, toiling from sun up to sun down for meals and a bunk on an organic ranch in central California, hundreds of miles from home.
"I consider myself extremely lucky to have stumbled upon this," said Ramfjord, 20.
Ramfjord and Riddle each paid $20 to become part of World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms USA, a group with 9,000 members known by a variation of its acronym, woofers. It's kind of a new millennium version of the traveling hobo willing to work for a meal.
The website allows willing workers to negotiate a nonpaid work stint with nearly 1,200 U.S. farmers and ranchers. Every farm could use an extra hand, but the hosts also benefit from the parade of characters who become a part of their lives, if only temporarily.
"When I was younger, I used to hitchhike; it's not the same, but it is that idea," said Ryan "Leo" Goldsmith, executive director of WWOOF-USA, founded with former classmates at the University of California, Santa Cruz. "You have to have faith in humanity and that showing up at someone's house is going to be OK. The tie that binds is a shared interest in sustainable agriculture."
Most are young people from urban areas who want to experience rural life. Some are newly jobless, or don't have prospects. Membership has skyrocketed as the economy has plummeted, soaring from about 1,600 willing U.S. workers in 2005. More than a dozen other autonomous branches match workers with farmers around the globe.
After a year woofing across the U.S. with her boyfriend, Jennifer Makens of suburban Detroit plans to ditch her teaching career to farm for a living. But first the couple will woof on a farm in Pennsylvania, then California and Oregon, Costa Rica, Ecuador, Argentina, Japan and New Zealand.
"I had no idea we'd do this for so long," said Makens, 29, who travels with Charlie Ryan in a Saturn with 150,000 miles on it. "We're getting proud of all the calluses on our hands. It has really changed the way I feel about material possessions, as well. If it won't fit in my car, I don't need it."
