Sunday, August 20, 2017

The Russians Are Coming! The Russians are coming!

     This began a week ago when my phone rang and a lady, who obviously didn’t learn her English in Colorado, the Midwest, or anywhere in America, began speaking.  Did I own a wheat farm?
     Well, yes.   Why?  They want to interview me.  About what?  ((I’m thinking Department of Agriculture or some other government agency with an active diversity policy in force.)  Growing wheat, the answer.
     Who wants to interview me?  Some people from Russia want to know more about farming, and they would like to “interview” me.  The voice informs me that she is a translator for them. It will only take thirty minutes, she says.  I guess I can spare thirty minutes.  When?
      I would be in Loveland until Wednesday.  Thereafter, I would be at the farm.  Would Friday work? she asks.  Yes, but I will be at the farm.  That would be fine with them.  They are coming from Centennial.
     So we set Friday morning, 9:30 for the “interview”.  I got to thinking about it.  There was something fishy about this whole thing.  Why would Russians be interested in American farming?  Were they guests of Rotary or CAWG or some other organization?
     Probably not, or the sponsoring organization would have made the contact, not the interpreter.  I shared the story with the Goodwife.  She was intrigued and immediately began planning to be at the farm 9:30 Friday morning as well. 
     Before long, everyone I talked to said something like, “So some Russians are coming to visit you, I hear.”  I think it was Ben Franklin who said, “Three may keep a secret if two are dead.”
      I began to prepare the Goodwife for a disappointment.  “What if they just want to sell me something?  What if this is all a ruse?  I won’t be surprised however this turns out.”
        The Goodwife was there by Thursday evening suppertime.  We tidied up the house some Friday morning, and at 9:30, I got a call from the same lady.  They were in the vicinity, but weren’t sure if they were in the right place.  They weren’t.  They had gone too far.  They reached a John Deere mailbox.  They should have turned by the one with six bullet holes in it.
       They arrived shortly thereafter in a nice crossover van with Colorado plates.  “They” were Roman (pronounced ro.MAN, with the “A” like “ah”), Regina (the “R” sounds different), the Russians, and Ilmira (sort of like “Elvira”), the translator.  Ilmira came from Russia when she was twelve.  She is a graduate of Metro State.  She speaks very good English.
     Roman’s family has a factory in Russia that produces flourmills.  Their mills are made for farmers, so that they can “vertically integrate.”  The idea is for the farmer to turn his own wheat into flour and reap a greater benefit from his own crop.
     They haven’t had much luck getting anyone interested.  They were sounding us out as to why no one is interested.  Basically, they are trying to find out what they can do to get farmers to take a serious look at their machines.  They have a variety of sizes ranging from one that could be set up in a garage, to a big one that would take a fair sized building to house.
     They had a sheet of statistics showing what their machines would do, and how it should improve a farmer’s bottom line, by several thousand dollars.  They had a video showing various flourmills in action.  They have put a lot of work into materials suitable for an ad campaign.  They asked us to critique them, which we did.
    How did they get my name, and why did they choose me?  They had been to the Colorado Department of Agriculture.  The department wouldn’t give them any names or addresses, but they did give them an organic directory, which lists organic farms, names, addresses, phone numbers, etc. 
    Why me?  I’m not a typical farmer by any stretch of the imagination.  Coming to our farm is like entering a time warp, with all the old 50’s and 60’s equipment.
      “You are a farmer.  You think like a farmer.  You can help us understand how farmers think and help us reach them with our message and our product,” Ilmira said.
    Oh.  Well, I guess I couldn’t argue with that, at least the first two statements.  So we looked at their video and their proposed pamphlet and made a few comments.  We brainstormed some ideas to get the word out.
     I suggested they contact a Farm Bureau and put on a program for their annual gatherings, which would include a lot of farmers.  They said they had contacted the Wheat Growers, and at first, the director was enthusiastic, but when they went to follow up, he was quite cool and wasn’t going to be any help.  I said I wasn’t surprised at that because they have sponsors like Cargill who aren’t too interested in having farmers skip them in the chain of getting grain to bread.
      I said Farm Bureau was pretty independent minded (I might have said something like pig headed, maybe ((there I go thinking like a farmer again)), and might be interested if they thought any of their members would benefit. 
      We also suggested a booth at the state fair, or the “Three I Show” in Kansas, or the farm show at Island Grove in Greeley.  I had a Eureka moment and suggested they contact Beaver Valley in Atwood.  They are wholesalers who have a worldwide market for farm equipment.  If they agreed to handle the product, it would be a big boost.
     They were happy that we would take the time to talk to them.  They said most farmers they had tried to talk to didn’t give them much time, though they had visited a friendly operator on the western slope.  It takes about twice as long as it should to visit with foreigners because everything has to be said twice, once in the native language, and again by the interpreter.
      A little after twelve, we walked outside, looked at the millet, discussed what it would be used for, looked in the barns at the antique machinery, took a drive up close to a wind generator, and checked out the pastures from the road.  We apologized that we had nothing to serve them for lunch.  They understood and thanked us profusely.  They left about 1 p.m.
     We learned a few things as we discussed problems with running a mill, such as getting a health department license.  In Russia, the machine manufacturer has a lot of responsibility for seeing to it that the machine can be maintained in a safe an sanitary way.  The flour miller is responsible for maintaining the facility, but isn't subject to all the inspections by health departments.
      Workman’s comp isn’t a big deal in Russia because of the free medical care if someone is injured on the job.  Only the most dangerous jobs, such as coal mining, require insurance.
     They don’t have IRA’s.  They have tried it in the past, but someone always makes off with the cash, and the investors lose their shirts, so no one is willing to try that any more.  Instead, they find other ways of investing for their retirement, such as owning and renting out an apartment.  Housing is a very big expense.  Retirees have a pension of sorts, but if they have to pay rent, if they don’t own their own house, housing takes most of the pension, leaving little for groceries or other expenses.      
      Keeping family members on the farm was one of the selling points their blurbs made.  Milling flour involves some labor.
     I didn’t volunteer to buy a flourmill set up.  If I were a lot younger, I might. 



Trying to get a picture of a wind generator

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