Visit To The CANADIAN Hog Farm

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There is no running water, electricity, or indoor plumbing. Josh and Mary cook on a wood stove with the ingredients and methods of a century ago. Last winter they were snowed in for a month.

All of them are content and happy with their lot, preferring it by far to the life they left.

Why? As David puts it: "We found we had a growing dissatisfaction with American culture, its aims and accomplishments.

"Because of taking part in anti-war demonstrations, I was denied tenure at the university and quite bluntly informed that that was the reason.

"It was, in my eyes, a simple act of political repression. I had the choice of becoming a radical or getting out. Because of my beliefs on violence, I chose to leave."

David has no dislike of technology, only of its misuse. He believes in using the land, not robbing it, and when he plants his crops he tries for a harmonious blend of new and old methods.

He is building a new house to replace the too-small and crumbling structure at present on the land. The framework is pentagon-shaped and made of logs, with a central pole and cantilevered roof, leaving the interior clear and open fur a communal style of living.

David Harvey is building to stay. He has, as he puts it, "come home"—and home he is.

Others are not. There are commune residents who are migratory. They travel a great and varied route that leads from the deserts of the American southwest to California, or Vancouver Island, or northern Ontario; wherever there are friends with communes.

With some reservations, they fit the description I received in a letter from Steve Harris, the editor of Octopus, an underground newspaper in Ottawa which closely follows communal development.

He wrote: "I personally have never been to or seen what could qualify as a commune—only people who have moved to farms to live together."

Sahaghia, another commune, farm, whatever, will not exist when you read this article. Its 10 inhabitants will be scattered to the far corners of North America.

Of the people who started Sahaghia a year ago; only two men were left to see it end, Dirk and Andy. The turnover in that time was about 20 people. They planted no crops and lived off bought supplies, mostly brown rice.

Restless feet were the reason for it ending. Dirk and Andy went off to British Columbia, heading for a commune on the coast north of Vancouver, two days walk from the nearest road.

It's a pity in a way, for the farmhouse at Sahaghia was one of the nicest of all. The living room was dominated by paintings and a large oval table. The upstairs had four private bedrooms and one large one for guests, with two banks of mattresses running down each wall. Communal living, indeed!

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