Jo and Eugene from Heart & Soil

Choose values and habits that keep you open

Hi! I'm Jo, writing from Heart & Soil homestead, a 1-acre homestead in the Far South of Cape Town, South Africa. Every week I share inspiration and education for your growing journey. Thanks so much for reading!

Welcome to Stories, where growers, homesteaders and small-scale farmers in South Africa share about their journeys. Today I'm sharing our own story. We’ve been homesteading and raising our kids here at Heart & Soil since September 2015, and we are still learning and growing.

Be curious, not judgemental

Not Walt Whitman, maybe Ted Lasso?

Our farm about 3 years into clearing port jackson, in about 2018

I tried to take a similar shot, today. Our plot reaches as far as our tunnel. The small cottage on the left is on our neighbour’s property.

Tell us a little about yourselves!

I’m Jo, and answering these questions makes me feel bad for the people I’ve made answer them. Sorry everyone! They’re hard!

I grew up in Durban as the youngest of four kids. I received scholarships to study first in the UK when I was 16, and then the U.S. after that. I also lived in Eritrea and Italy. I was privileged to spend time with people different from me in those years of early adulthood.

Eugene grew up in Seoul, South Korea. His American Dad and a Korean mom founded an international school and so Eugene’s world was urban and he traveled from when he was young.

We met and married in Boston, U.S.A. back in 2006, when we were still in our 20s. Eugene worked as a graphic designer for a large Boston hospital, and I coordinated programmes for refugees within the state Department of Public Health.

Although our backgrounds were very different, Eugene and I were both inspired by a course held by our church about faith-based approaches to money and justice. This helped us to find a common purpose.

I had worked with refugees for many years, and many people spoke of food and home with a longing that I could not relate to. I wondered if these themes of home and food were a route out of consumerism. This question became more pressing after we had our first child in Boston, and had to figure out how to raise him.

So, in 2011 we moved from Boston to Observatory. My parents, brother, sister, nephews and nieces all lived in Plumstead. I began a PhD in public health and learned more about people’s experiences of food. In my postdoc, my supervisors allowed me to read very broadly. I ended up discovering again and again that people whose lives have been stripped down to the basics- including refugees, those who had experienced catastrophic illness, the elderly and the poor- want to be with loved ones, their basic needs met. I wondered if instead of us (researchers, wealthy people, NGOs) trying to teach or empower others, maybe we could instead learn from the wisdom of people who have had time to focus on the basics. I felt we could learn the ways that urban consumer life was impoverished.

Early days on the homestead

A similar view, taken today.

How did you start doing what you are doing now? 

In those sleepy newborn 2012 days of our second baby, we happened to watch a permaculture documentary, and then the British series, River Cottage, and were inspired! There was a lot of romanticism and idealism. We weren’t in a position to move to a rural area, as Eugene preferred the city, I worked at university, we wanted to ultimately create a home for my parents as well.

So we saved, learned, and kept an eye out for a couple of years, until we discovered the Lochiel smallholdings. They adjoin a township, Masiphumelele, so there was a chance for me to continue my research after the move, and we were able to find an affordable, vacant plot in early 2015. We built a very small house through the winter. Eugene and I continued to work after our move, and our third child was born in the dark a few weeks after we moved in.

The soil was more or less beach sand.

We were stressed and tired in the early years on the farm, and Eugene discovered he didn’t really like farming. Despite this, he got really good at building stuff. As our kids grew, they softened us because we knew we couldn't make them suffer for our ideals. Kids are very good mirrors.

When a neighbouring plot running a nursery went out of business during the drought in 2017, we found a way to buy the plot. This was to allow Chris, the horticulturalist living there, to continue to share his knowledge with the community. The idea of connection rather than money making the world go around. This was how “Heart & Soil” was born. Not the most original name, it was chosen in a hurry.

In those first years we also started a good food club, a collective buying group started by Liesl and Abby, that we'd been part of when living in Obs. This built community, allowed us to access all the food we didn’t grow (and, lets be honest, we still weren’t growing very much), and helped us participate in all the complexity of creating local food chains.

We were able to build a small house for my parents, and their presence has been amazing.

Also in those early years, the city called us all into a meeting, and proposed buying up all the smallholdings for low-cost housing. Although this was scary, it also brought focus: we needed to be helpful to others, and we needed to do so quickly, because the future is tenuous. Many plots around us have since been subdivided and sold, turned into schools, churches or proposed affordable housing. Still, the city acknowledged our small-scale urban farming efforts, which means that we have freedom to work on our plots and keep growing.

Those early days…Noah and Eli with our first Boschvelders.

Until we got a chainsaw and goats, our homestead was filled with port jackson.

Planting potatoes. Mostly eaten by mole rats…

Learning to farm vegetables took years. We’ve finally had a few seasons where we’ve gotten consistent large yields that supply all our needs and some veg to sell. The key was setting up permanent no-dig beds, protected with wire from the mole rats. And drip irrigation.

My dear colleagues Virginia and Anna bought me two dairy goats in Jan 2020. I had talked about goats for years and I didn't want to do something so reckless. It turned out reckless was exactly what I needed: I LOVE goats and making cheese.

Annie and Ginnie, my favourites. And Hana.


COVID times were intense as I wanted to help everyone. I learned that choices about where one invests energy are not a bad thing; that the world (our community, the nursery, my family, etc) doesn't need to be saved, it probably just needs more presence and love. I slowly retreated from academia, as my perspective was more and more influenced by our lives on the homestead.

The retreat from academia and COVID finances helped us realise we couldn't keep two plots. We sold the nursery to a large local nursery, and Chris agreed to move onto our homestead and run a smaller nursery here. We moved the containers from the other plot:

recognise the driveway? These are the oldest containers ever, but they are well used and look really different now.

Then our neighbour said an older Zimbabwean gentleman who was new to Cape Town was looking for more work, and that he was a wonderful person. We employed Taka for 2 mornings a week, and he has contributed so much knowledge and kindness in the 2 years he has worked here. Our homestead feels complete.

We continue to awaken to the ways our small urban farm is hugely productive on so many levels. As education for us and our community. As good work. As the conduit for health and healing, and for spiritual and physical growth. To do this, we need to first be kind to ourselves and one another. So we're not really about one thing, but we're constantly learning together.

What are you most proud of in this process? 

Our kids! They’re amazing. That together, Eugene and I try to stay open and keep growing and softening, and we’re all growing together.

I’m so grateful that my parents and Chris are here too, their presence and kindness is huge. So I’m most proud that we’re building something with other people, creating space for other people, and helping our community grow.

The wonder of an urban farm is that it is immediately a community project if we are open to it.

Time goes so fast

The kids with their sensei, Kim, my lovely sister.

What is the most helpful piece of advice you received when you were just starting out? 

Chris has given us a huge amount of valuable advice, usually in subtle ways and in small doses. Usually he’ll share anecdotes from old farmers from the area, as he’s been growing in our area for over 30 years. My dad has also given me a lot of advice from his years of experience.

Having a combination of direct, highly contextual advice AND reading is better than just reading voraciously about permaculture. I say that as a reader.

This is one reason that we’ve taken the path we have- people are the knowledge bridge that allows farming to continue in a space. Many things we’ve learned we could only learn by watching more experienced people grow.

Perfection.

What advice would you like to give to others who are younger/earlier on their journey? 

Focus on values and habits as much as you can. Cultivate values and low-stakes habits that keep you moving forward in a kind way. Don’t wait on circumstances to be just right, do small things in the direction of your values, right now. For example:

  • “Gift one tree, one goat” rather than “start a urban movement”

  • “plant a seed every day” rather than “start all our veg from organic saved seed.”

  • “Play with our kids every day” rather than “homeschool forever”

  • “Be available to people every weekend” rather than “sell 100 plants.”

  • “Add one Jojo tank of water storage and make it easy to use” rather than “disconnect from municipal water.”

  • “Offer veg every day” rather than “raise the family on home grown veg.”

Honey spinning at my parent’s house.

Where do you see growing going in South Africa? 

Very small-scale farming can positively contribute to communities, and can be a good life without a ton of capital or income involved.

I love the idea of large plots as urban oases that absorb organic waste, provide education, plants, and food.

Tiles made with imprints of plants growing during COVID.

Pizza oven

Thank you so much for reading! We’re so grateful to you. Next week, I hope to share excerpts from all the stories from the past year. Then, in 2025 we’ll be ready to celebrate another year of Thursday stories.

Natural swimming pool…

Glass bottle walls

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