Ten green feddans

The New Valley agricultural project provides food and jobs and uses an immense amount of water. Jenny Jobbins took an eco-tour through the fields of Farafra, one of the four oases in the scheme
As far as I know the poet Rupert Brooke, who died elsewhere in an earlier war (World War I) never visited the Western Desert, but his words carry all the more weight in an oasis on the edge of a sea of sand. By a stroke of fortune Farafra oasis lies lower than its neighbours Dakhla, Kharga and Bahariya, and lower even than the Nile Valley. Underneath Farafra, the remotest of the four oasis of the New Valley from the Nile, lie deep aquifers of mineral-rich water. Rain water from the south and river water from the Nile eventually find their way, by seepage, to Farafra to replenish the store of ancient water which has lain untapped for millennia.
Much of this water remains from the days when that part of the Western Desert was wet, which it was in a number of prehistoric periods. The last dry period seems to have set in about seven thousand years ago. Although wind-blown sand has settled over the surrounding desert, the Farafran inhabitants have kept their oasis swept fairly clean of it and the soil, which resembles sandy, dry clay, is far from barren.
Eco-tourism is part of the regional development plan, and on a recent visit to the oasis I jumped at a chance to learn what water and agriculture mean to this area. Our hotel, as well as its desert safaris and tours of Qasr Farafra -- the main and, until recently, the only settlement in the oasis -- provided an agricultural tour which gave us a chance to see the rural areas at close hand.
From time immemorial Farafra was a fruit bowl, supplying olives, dates, apricots, oranges and mandarins to be carried across the desert by caravan to the Nile Valley in exchange for flour, tea, sugar, textiles and other provisions. In those days the Farafran people were few and they were poor but, as oasis expert Ahmed Fakhri reported of his visits between the 1930s and the 1960s, they were deeply religious. Crime was unknown, and they welcomed visitors warmly and hospitably even though they might have little enough for themselves.
In the second half of the 20th century this way of life began to undergo a drastic change. From these four oases -- Farafra, Dakhla, Kharga and Bahariya -- the Egyptian government created the New Valley. They drew up plans to flood the oases with both immigrants and irrigation channels and cultivate half a million feddans, producing enough food to feed a sizeable chunk of the country's growing population. Oasis lovers like Ahmed Fakhri were aghast. "I thought of the rapidly changing life in the oasis and wondered how long the inhabitants could keep their old traditions alive. The concept of bringing several thousand immigrants here from the Nile Valley when the new irrigation projects opening thousands of feddans takes place saddened and distressed me," Fakhri wrote in 1968.
I had thus come to Farafra with mixed feelings. One welcomes, of course, the greening of the desert and the increase in food production, the jobs created, the chance for people from the overcrowded and polluted Cairo and Delta regions to make a new start in a new place. I was also curious to see how well they were assimilating, and to what extent they had become Farafran. The original Farafrans had resisted and resented the intrusion. But the meeting of the immigrants and the native oasis-dwellers need not be a one-sided clash: the immigrants would also be affected by the impact, and there could be gains on both sides.
We set off, a small bus-load of us, to view the project under the guidance of Mohamed Abdel-Hussein, a farmer's son from the Cairo area and a graduate of the Faculty of Agriculture. The government's inspired scheme for Farafra, set in motion in 1987, was to increase agricultural production while opening opportunities for private enterprise and providing new viable social communities -- killing three birds with one stone, so to speak. Abdel- Hussein described the two programmes which were and still are on offer: under one, fellahin (peasants) from all over Egypt are offered land on which to set up an unsubsidised farm on their own initiative. Under the other, graduates in any discipline are given 10 feddans of land and a house, and non-graduates seven feddans and a house. This programme appeals particularly to young graduates from the agricultural school.
The programme is strictly monitored, and certain rules apply. First, the recipient is not to take out any further bank loans. Second, farming is to be organic. Third, water use is controlled. Fourth, anyone who breaks any of the above, or who abandons his land, can be thrown out.
Newcomers are given initial help: LE50 a month for the first year, and free staples -- flour, oil and so on -- for the first three years. Agricultural graduates are expected to advise and train others: the idea is to create mix-and-match village communities, with differing social levels. In all, 20,000 feddans of land have so far been made available to 1,000 recipients under both programmes, and four villages have been set up, each with a school, social services and a cottage hospital.
The village we saw was typical of almost any rural village in Egypt, with closely-knit houses to save land space, children playing and farm animals waiting patiently for a load of barsim (green fodder). The houses, though, matched the Farafran tradition of elongated domes and claustra decoration.
Although the recipients under the scheme are obliged to fulfil their farming obligations, they are free to follow other occupations. Some thus hire others to tend their crops, creating further job opportunities. Among them is Abdel-Hussein, who takes time off from farming to work with tourists.
In 1988 Abdel-Hussein and his brother pooled their 20 feddans and now have a tidy business growing fuul (fava beans), wheat, vegetables and barsim. We walked through his fields of onions, peppers and aubergines. The first years were hard, he said. The soil was so thin that the wind blew away the seedlings. Now the crops are flourishing, and grass grows along the verges of the road and between the fields. Beyond this huge pool of greenness the limestone plateau rises like a wide screen backdrop, and I thought of the joy this everyday view must bring to the people who work here -- or does such a vision, with the passage of time, become commonplace? The members of our group, mostly retired professional people, all Egyptian and all tourists, were taken with the air and the magic of the deep countryside. They half-humorously suggested they each apply for their quota, seven or 10 feddans as the case may be. "But not all year round," one said. "So creating more jobs," the rest of us murmured.
Since artificial fertilisers and pesticides are banned, the only soil dressing allowed is manure and the only way to fight pests is with traps. Abdel-Hussein described these. There are two main kinds: a chemical death trap which gives off the scent of female hormones and attracts male bugs, and a sticky box that attracts pests of both sexes. A third method -- spraying with the time-honoured dilution of Ariel -- is also permitted. Organic farming is enforced to keep the water pure as part of the government's plan to promote Farafra as a health spa.
Before the 1960s all the water in the oasis was drawn from what are known as Roman -- that is, ancient -- springs, which flow from near the surface. When the New Valley irrigation scheme began, wells were dug deeper and deeper. The deeper they dug, the hotter the water. Hot water now filled the irrigation channels, and it took a little time for the fruit orchards to adjust to the high temperatures.
Back in Qasr Farafra, New Valley governorate secretary-general Mohamed Raafat explained the geography for me by drawing a map in the sand showing how the water drained into the low-lying Farafra from the Nile Valley and the other oases. He said that 75,000 billion cubic metres were stored in the New Valley's underground aquifers. Under the irrigation scheme, wells are dug in stages from shallow (150 metres) to deep (a staggering 1,200 metres). The temperature rises one degree every 30 metres.
The water, Raafat says, could be bottled if it were purified. It contains a multitude of minerals including iron, manganese, phosphates and other trace elements. It is, he says, invaluable for use in aromatherapy. "It contains no bacteria at all," he adds. "But it has to be drunk straight from the pipe because it oxydises once it touches air."
Since there is constant drainage in Farafra's direction, and since many of the pumps run constantly, the water would appear to seep continuously downhill and be ever- renewable. But how can one be certain this arrangement will last, or how such increased use will affect levels in the aquifer? Water to farmers on the project is rationed according to crop, and is turned off on occasion -- as, for example, during the Eid, when it is understood that no one will bother to go to the fields and use the irrigation system correctly. "It's still a matter of education," Abdel-Hussein says. "People still have to understand that there's isn't enough water to waste."
The climate is slowly changing. Rain was almost unknown in Farafra until about seven years ago, when it started to drizzle now and again in response to the planting. But most of this moisture, as well as about 10 per cent of all the water which comes to the surface, is lost through evaporation. Excess water runs into an artificial reed-fringed lake, large and growing, where three types of fish have been introduced: bolti, denise and mabruka, and where small boys play in rowing boats among families of ducklings.
Other children were playing with their pets on the banks, and cows grazed in the fields of cut barsim. Everywhere whole families were at work in the fields. I asked Abdel- Hussein if he missed Cairo, but he said that, rather, it was his Cairene relatives who always wanted to come here for holidays. "It's such a good, clean environment," he said. "Such a good place to bring up your children, and it's much better than working in an office."
Practical information
Transport:
The Upper Egyptian Bus Company runs a comfortable daily bus service to Farafra from Turguman Square, Cairo. Fare LE25. The bus journey takes about seven hours.
Accommodation and safari tours in Qasr Farafra:
Aquasun Resort, tel: 010 667 8099
El-Badawiya Hotel, tel: 092 510 060, Cairo number: 345 8524.
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