Bozeman

Yesterday we arrived in Bozeman, MT after a long and hot day of driving through the alpine desert of Idaho, then through big sky country.  It was a beautiful drive, from bottom to top we saw sage green plants, the occasional yellow or purple flower, golden then red rolling hills, gray craggy peaks, and finally, the wide open blue sky.  Not a tree in sight to block our way.  Our first stop in town was the local co-op to pick up a couple of supplies, treats that we have been looking forward to.  Andre made a beeline for the dairy section, where we met a lovely woman who helped us select a local hard goat cheese.  During our conversation, she pointed over to another employee who works on a farm, runs a CSA, and the co-op even sells some of his vegetables.  Not feeling the usual shyness and eager to talk with him, I ran right over after picking out a bottle of local wine.  I told him about our adventure just a bit and asked if he’d be interested in trading some greens for something we have, perhaps some mushrooms or homebrew.  He asked if we were interested in doing a work-share, coming to the farm to work a bit in exchange for fresh produce.  I was thrilled.  We’re going this morning, even though after our wildly successful dive last night we don’t really need any produce.

The farmer introduced us to another employee, a pretty regular dumpster diver who used to live in Santa Cruz where he fed hungry people rescued food and knows the local Bozeman scene.  He recommended the bakery across the street, a couple of markets, and, in a hushed voice, the co-op.  He told us about food waste at the co-op, how once in a while he rescues food from their dumpsters even though he knows that he is risking his job. Like me, he can’t stand to trash perfectly good food.  I get it.  I dive for philosophical reasons, not out of need.  I told him about the model at the Salem, OR store, where all of the employees get to take home the food that would otherwise be discarded.  A dream we share – wouldn’t it be amazing if we trusted each other so much that we didn’t feel the need to worry that giving food away would cause unnecessary waste.  Starting in childhood, we’re taught to fear others, stranger danger, breaking down our trust in the goodness of humanity.  The television, newspapers, billboards, media in general tells us that other humans are dangerous.  Shows like America’s Most Wanted, CSI, and headlines that read “'AK-47 Bandit' who shot Chino officer tied to three bank robberies “ (pulled from the LA Times today) remind us of the caution we should take when we leave the confines of our safe havens. 

We met a man, donning an American Legion hat, in the fairgrounds this morning where Andre and I slept last night.  Today begins the county fair here in Bozeman, with rides, funnel cakes, and gypsies.  We told him about the farmer we met and how excited we were to go to work this morning.  He chatted with us for a while then disappeared.  He came back a few minutes later with a gift—a banana and a granola bar.  He probably thought we were poor and hungry travelers, but maybe he was just being nice.  That’s most of humanity, folks—kind, generous, friendly, loving, caring—not at all dangerous.  A few bad apples… Don’t believe everything you read, hear, see, and most importantly, don’t believe everything you think.