[Text: Tomas Borsa. Photos: Jean-Philippe Marquis.]
Around twenty kilometres from the Nadleh Whut’en reserve sits a 160-acre farm jointly owned by seven close friends ranging in age from 25 to 36. The property holds two large gardens, a barn, several chicken coops, and a log house, built sometime in the 1960’s by the Malidiers family. Chase, Liz, and Nita live at the farm full-time, while the rest of the group splits their time between Prince George and Ft. Fraser. Several of the owners also have children: Quinn is five years old, Sadie is nearly a year old, and Cooper is young enough to be mistaken for a large potato. Four dogs, equally apart in each, also inhabit the property. While showing us around the property, Spencer Hammond, one of the owners, explains his reasons for buying into the property: “It’s really quite simple. We have everything here. We like to garden, we get our water from the creek, and purchasing the farm was a conscious choice that we made to return to the land and build some skills that aren’t taught to you growing up in the city.” Unfortunately, the proposed route of the Northern Gateway would see it pass directly over this creek, several kilometres upstream of the property.
Dinnertime at the farm is a big event. There is an air of unity to the place, with everyone contributing in some small way: Scott chops firewood, Liz places a kettle on the woodstove, Nita prepares a massive butternut squash. Blake enters the house carrying a rabbit in one hand, and his gun in the other. Five year-old Quinn, for his part, makes a play-doh hat for his toy dinosaur. Nearly a dozen fiddles, banjos, and guitars hang from the walls and rafters of the house. After supper, each one comes down in turns, as do flutes, washboards, and a harmonica (for which Ziggy the dog provides accompanying vocals). Neighbours Kerry and Robert Anderson come over and sit down for a cup of tea, and we begin to chat. It isn’t exactly an uplifting conversation. Despite having raised their family and lived in the area for 18 years, their concerns over the pipeline’s crossing through their property, and months of increasingly confrontational encounters with surveyors have forced them to sell their property. And so, for the past week, Kerry and Robert have been sleeping at a friend’s house. Call me a sentimentalist, but that doesn’t sit well with me.
