The Fall of the Eggplant

Volcan Chinchontepeque

So I came back from my Christmas vacation (which was wonderful, by the way) half expecting my plants to be dead.  I had a friend come water them while I was gone, but I didn't explain anything about any pesticides.  I was partially right and partially wrong.  The eggplant was brutally attacked, probably to the point of no return.  Seeing as I don't even like eggplant a whole lot, I decided it wouldn't be worth the recitation, and down they went (I didn't take pictures).  Everything else was doing pretty well, to my delight.

Well, I guess not everything.  This hanging plant wasn't doing so hot.  The leaves had withered, and there was practically zero fruit or flowers.  I decided to cut it back to the main stem in the hopes that it would come back to life.  I left a couple of the old leaves, thinking that it would probably need some kind of photosynthesis to stay alive.  And sprout back alive it did.  This photo was taken a week or two after I pruned it back, and you can see the new sprouts forming.

In the top of my hanging planter, the cilantro was growing like wild.  I was making every dish I could think of with cilantro in it to use all of it up.  I had a constant supply of chirimol (AKA pico de gallo) in my fridge, and loved every minute of it.  While I was on vacation, it began to bolt.  When I got back, not knowing much about cilantro/coriander, I let it bolt instead of cutting it back to produce more leaves.  Once it got to about 2 feet tall it began to flower and later to produce seeds (to either plant again, or eat as coriander).

The plant hanging out of the 3-liter was doing a little bit better than his hanging counterpart, but not by far.  I also pruned him back in the hopes that he would keep going.  This photo was taken the same day as the above photos, which were all taken several days (possibly a week or so) after I pruned them back.  This plant was much quicker to come back, and at this point it even had little green tomatoes on it.  

Which brings me to the heirlooms.  They had been growing like crazy while I was gone.  I told the kid I had watering them how to tie them up to the bamboo posts I had put in, and they were barely holding them up.  I had to do something, and had to do it soon.  At this point I had been to several local farmer's tomato plots, and learned the local way of tying up your tomatoes.  Typically the plants are in the ground and in lines of several hundred plants, but I figured I could adapt the same idea to my plants.  They put a post at the beginning and end of each row, with posts about every 10 feet in between.  They tie a nylon twine to the beginning post, and go from post to post wrapping the twine on both sides.  As the plants grow, they continue wrapping twine higher and higher created a guide system for the plants as they grow.  I decided that with a little Jimmy-rigging, twine, wire, and some old wood I could create the same thing for my plants.  The only difference was that my plants were already big, which required much more care in tying up the tutors.

Top View.

This guy was still doing great, producing plenty of tomatoes.

 At this point, the heirlooms were doing great.  I did, however, have a perpetual problem with one pest.  In Spanish it is called a minador, which in English translates to miner, but I'm not sure if that's the word we use for them.  They are little bugs that in the larvae stage eat the inner layer of the leaves, leaving little hollow tunnels. Eventually they eat so much that the plant has a tough time absorbing light.  I tried various products to get rid of them, all of them reducing the population some, but they eventually come back.  You can see them in one of the above pictures.

The Heirlooms are coming!

Banana tree in my yard

5-gallon hangers.

My experiment had been successful -- I could actually grow things!  And somewhat successfully, might I add.  Not only was I eating fresh tomatoes and eggplant, but also I gained some major street cred with the farmers I worked with.  The hanging tomatoes blew their minds.  It was just absolutely wild that this crazy gringo came in and grew tomatoes upside-down.  I was having fun, and it gave me yet another small talk topic.

My hanging tomato plants were doing great, and I was eating tomatoes daily.  The eggplant was doing pretty well also -- I ate a few and gave the rest away (to be honest I’m not the biggest fan of eggplant).   The celery in the top of the hanging 5-gallon was doing all right, but I had thoughts of ripping it out.  After all, I just planted it up there to have something up there.

Celery

“Winter” was finishing up, so the rain was finally coming to a stop.  I was happy to see it go; 6 months of daily downpour takes it’s toll on both man and plant.  I had devised a system to control the amount of water getting to my hanging tomatoes, so they were doing well, but the other plants in regular planters were hurting.  And for me, well, I was sick of the constant mold on everything I owned (fun side fact: at one time even my computer grew mold).  The new lack of rain meant I had to water my plants daily, but it allowed for more adequate growing conditions.

The tomatoes that you can find here in El Salvador are typically a small oblong variety, about the size of a Roma tomato.  I don’t know what they actually are, but the people call them “Cherry” (they even say it in English).  Sometimes you can find different varieties, but they all pretty much taste the same, and are somewhat bland.

Don Erasmo's Greenhouse.

I was happy to be eating my own tomatoes, but I decided that it was time to change things up a little.  I wanted to plant a tomato that was different – partially because I wanted to continue being the crazy gringo, and partially out of desire to eat a different tomato.  After some research I found some seeds – Black Krim heirloom tomato to be exact.  They are a large dark variety originally from Ukraine/Russia, sure to astonish people with their color and hopefully with their taste too.  Instead of battling with germinating the seeds myself, I asked my friend Don Erasmo to help me out.  As a result of a previous Peace Corps Volunteer’s hard work and grant writing skills, Don Erasmo had acquired a small greenhouse and has successfully been growing various plants (mainly tomato, green pepper, and papaya) since.  He told me he would give me a hand and we could germinate the seeds in his greenhouse.  At the same time we germinated a packet of cilantro seeds.

Don Erasmo and his grandson planting seeds.

The soil where I live is a very acidic clay, which is not ideal for tomatoes.  The first time I planted one of my friends hauled me in some soil from where he lives, which was a very dark topsoil.  With a strong addition of bokashi compost it worked perfectly.  This time I tried to find similar soil, but unfortunately I was unable to.  Instead, with the help of a volunteer friend, I mixed some clay from here with sand, lime, and compost in hopes of creating a mixture to my plants' liking.

After around 20 days of Don Erasmo tentatively caring for my plants (he lives about 40 minutes from me), he handed over the seedlings.  I gave half to him, and took the other half home.   I planted 4 in planters (homemade from old oil jugs), and the rest in tentative (also homemade) small planters.  I gently pulled out the celery from the 5-gallon and transplanted it straight to the ground, making room for my cilantro.

Black Krim Tomatoes.

Cilantro.

After a week or so, all the plants were doing great, but I had a small problem.  I was going to the States for 3 weeks.  I transplanted the remaining heirlooms directly into the ground, and began searching for somebody to water my plants while I was gone.  I asked a friend to come by daily to water my plants, and in return I promised him I would bring him back something special from the US.  I showed him what I needed him to do, gave one final fertilizer and pesticide application, and I was off.

Cilantro up top.

Tomatoes in planters, with bamboo guides.