From an MA in Arts to Fruit Farmer at a Property Company

Two summers ago, I graduated with a Master’s in Sociology and joined a leading real estate company to work in agriculture, feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Three seemingly unrelated paths converged in this way; my decision to veer away from the mainstream career trajectory left my family and friends bewildered for a while. But in truth, it was a well-considered choice.

Having studied rural sociology for three years, I still felt there was a veil between me and the industry. I wanted to understand through practice why being a farmer is so difficult, and where exactly the hardship and struggles lie. At the same time, I knew that diving headfirst into the fields wouldn’t align with society’s expectations for someone with a higher education. As a compromise, I chose to become a fruit farmer at a real estate company.

I. Starting fruit farming from scratch: a bit of a challenge

● Besides the orchards, the company has over ten mu of farmland; the larger plots are rotated with wheat and rice, while the smaller ones grow vegetables. Last year, our two mu of white radishes yielded a heartening harvest; pictured here is me pulling radishes with one of the female workers.

The real estate project I worked on was located on the outskirts of City S, a second-tier city in Jiangsu Province. With vast orchards, waterways, and farmland serving as supporting amenities, these natural resources aligned with the project’s design philosophy and boosted sales. Consequently, the orchards and fields weren’t just for show; they were intended to be key value-creating assets. On my first day, I arrived at the office to report for duty in full makeup and professional attire. In July, the fields were a lush, vibrant green; fruit was beginning to ripen on the trees, and seasonal vegetables in the garden were flourishing—a sight that instantly lifted the spirits. However, the moment I stepped into the fields, I realised that the “office lady” look was entirely unnecessary; sun protection was a far more practical choice.

My responsibilities included planning outdoor educational activities for the farm, as well as the production management of the farm and orchards. Among these, fruit yield and sales turnover were key KPIs. Initially, I was reluctant: “I can handle the events, but I really don’t know how to grow fruit. I have neither the knowledge nor the experience—how could I possibly do it?”

I expressed my concerns honestly, but to my surprise, my manager simply chuckled and said, “No matter, we’re all amateurs here. Let’s just get started!” And so, somewhat bewildered, I began my two-year stint as a fruit farmer.

II. Experimenting with New Varieties

Based on preliminary research, the company positioned the orchard for ecological farming, aiming to produce healthy, delicious pears through intensive management to increase the premium and generate profit. To achieve this, selecting the right variety was a critical prerequisite. We first considered local varieties.

City S is situated on the alluvial plain of the Yellow River flood zone, with fertile soil and favourable climatic conditions. As a result, fruit trees are exceptionally common locally, with at least ten thousand mu of orchards in the surrounding area. Local farmers have been growing fruit since the 1960s; besides some peaches, grapes, and strawberries, the primary crop has remained pears.

While local pears have received National Geographical Indication protection, they haven’t achieved the fame of Korla fragrant pears or Dangshan crisp pears. One reason is that the local pear varieties are simply too old-fashioned and no longer align with current consumer preferences. Every April, during the pear blossom season, the orchards are a magnificent sight; however, the resulting pears lack sweetness and crunch. With no market demand, the price naturally remains low.

Guided by staff from the agricultural technology station, the company selected an early-ripening pear variety with high market acceptance. This variety is a new hybrid developed by the Jiangsu Academy of Agricultural Sciences in recent years and is well-suited for local cultivation.

● This variety of early-ripening pear is characterised by its small core, sweet flavour, and a fine, crisp texture with very few stone cells. Pictured here is a corner of the orchard.

During the process of selecting varieties, I realised that although the company’s agricultural division introduced new varieties based on the prospect of future returns, switching to these new varieties is not necessarily a rational choice for local farmers. Firstly, purchasing new saplings from seed companies is prohibitively expensive. Secondly, only through intensive management can higher-quality pears be produced, which demands greater investment in both manpower and capital. In a city like City S, with its numerous factories of all sizes, abandoning the orchard to seek industrial employment is often a more rational choice than facing huge upfront costs and uncertain future returns.

III. Early-ripening pears: not so easy to grow

Local farmers had avoided this path due to a variety of concerns. Consequently, the company took a more cautious approach: half of the 300-mu orchard retained its original varieties, while the other half was converted to a new variety of early-ripening pear. To ensure yield and quality, we reshaped the existing trees, trained the branches, and installed bird netting, while the new early-ripening pears required a complete overhaul of previous management methods. Under the guidance of experienced local growers, I began my first year’s attempt, though it was a bumpy start.

Work during spring and summer primarily consists of pollination, flower and fruit thinning, and bagging. While the new variety has a relatively high self-pollination rate, polliniser trees must still be planted, and beehives placed or hand-pollination performed to ensure a successful fruit set.

● Last April, a female orchard worker performing hand-pollination.

If there is heavy rain during the pollination season, both bees and hand-pollination are affected, which can lead to severe yield losses. Even when the weather is favourable, pollination is no easy task. The flowering period for pears lasts only about 20 days, and with our orchard spanning nearly 300 mu, the sheer volume of work required to dust tens of thousands of trees with pollen is almost unimaginable.

After pollination, there is a brief respite of about ten days before flower and fruit thinning begins. Selecting which fruit to keep is a precise art; it is essential to maintain an adequate leaf-to-fruit ratio—a skill that, unfortunately, I have yet to master.

● Applying basal fertiliser in the early stages; this organic fertiliser is typically composted sheep manure purchased from neighbouring farmers.

Alongside the intensive pollination, thinning, and bagging phases, the orchard requires daily fertilising, weeding, irrigation, and drainage. Early-ripening pears have very high fertiliser requirements. Basal fertiliser must be applied in the winter of the previous year, followed by top-dressing once a month throughout the following spring and summer, with an even greater amount required as autumn approaches. Fertilising cannot be done all at once; instead, it requires the frequent application of small amounts, which is extremely labour-intensive.

Weeding is another monumental task. To maintain soil fertility and water retention, we leave some weeds between the pear trees. However, if these weeds become too lush or their roots grow too deep, they may compete for soil moisture and nutrients. Therefore, weeding is generally required every month during the summer. When we are short-staffed, the weeds often grow faster than we can remove them.

For a novice fruit farmer like me, all of these tasks were entirely new experiences. Yet, beyond the fieldwork, other challenges awaited me.

IV. People Management

The orchard’s workforce consists almost entirely of elderly locals who, due to age restrictions, cannot work in factories and seek meaningful activity while at home. They have little experience with the daily operations of a commercial orchard and have rarely worked within a corporate employment model, which makes managing them far from simple. Like any employee, they technically work a nine-to-five, but agriculture differs from industrial production—work must be dictated by the weather and the agricultural calendar. In summer, I have to coordinate earlier start and finish times, and during peak seasons, they must work longer hours, requiring me to arrange meals and breaks in advance. Financial incentives alone are not enough; a level of personal rapport and empathy is needed as a lubricant to ensure management is effective.

I remember one occasion when a particularly efficient older worker suddenly resigned, explaining that she needed to pick up her granddaughter from nursery between three and four in the afternoon, creating a scheduling conflict. However, it was a critical period for bagging; losing a skilled worker could mean hundreds of trees would fail to bear fruit. After some thought, I persuaded her to bring her granddaughter to the office area to play until it was time to go home together.

Small incidents like this happened frequently. When dealing with workers who are more than two decades my senior, the most effective management strategy is to remain humble and communicate in a way they fully understand. More importantly, this process requires a fundamental understanding of and respect for the farmers.

Beyond managing the team, I also had to purchase various pieces of agricultural machinery while adhering to company administrative regulations. According to the rules, I must submit a fund utilisation plan for the following month at the start of each month, and equipment can only be purchased after passing through multiple layers of approval. However, many needs in agricultural production are spontaneous. During my first year, in order not to miss the critical farming windows, I exhausted every possible means of negotiating with the administration—a process that, I must admit, was quite draining.

V. Growing Pears is Hard, Selling Them is Harder

●July 2022, our pears ripened! Each pear weighed around 250g, with smooth, emerald-green skin and a wonderful appearance.

Despite enduring many ‘firsts’, a first year of trial and error eventually saw the orchard bear fruit. Having my colleagues praise the taste of the pears gave me a profound sense of accomplishment. However, another matter had become pressing.

As is well known, fresh fruit has a very short shelf life and is difficult to store. The yield from 300 mu was neither large nor small, making it uneconomical to either build or rent cold storage. Faced with the pressure of performance reviews, our only option was to strive to sell everything in a short space of time.

Looking back, it seems our expectations for the new variety were somewhat overly optimistic. After visiting numerous fruit markets, supermarkets and fruit shops, we discovered that the orchard’s early-ripening pear variety was relatively new, and market acceptance was low.

The scale of the orchard presented another awkward problem: on the one hand, it wasn’t small enough to be a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) project, where a few dozen or hundred consumers could absorb the farm’s entire output. On the other hand, it wasn’t large enough to be like a major agricultural company with stable buyers for bulk purchasing.

●The three-year-old trees have not yet reached their peak production period; the average yield per mu is only just over 100kg, and the total yield in 2022 was only 30,000 jin. Once the trees reach peak production, the yield will triple.

Offline markets are hard to penetrate, and online markets are no different. To enter fresh produce e-commerce platforms, fruit—as an agricultural product—requires a higher degree of commodification and brand certification, with detailed labelling for things like uniform size, taste, origin, specific variety, seasonality, quality certifications, and pesticide residue tests. This necessitates a greater investment of cost and effort into brand building. Under the pressure of the group’s performance reviews, no one felt confident that we could turn the pears we grew into the next “Chu Orange”.

Some argue that the rise of e-commerce sales models represents a bottom-up revolution starting from the end of the industry chain. However, from my observation, consumers can only decide whether to enter the online market; they have no control over what they are actually able to buy. Small producers are shut out by the barriers of commodification and standardisation, staring at the consumers from the other side of the door.

To bypass the various intermediaries in the supply chain and reach consumers directly, we eventually opted for traditional “circle” marketing: taste before you buy, word-of-mouth, and targeted sales. From managing orders and shipping to after-sales customer service, everything was handled by our own team; it truly felt as though “every single step was a struggle”.

VI. Bidding Farewell to the Orchard

The work of these past two years has been a precious experience. During this time, I worked with a professional, responsible, sincere, and friendly team. There was none of the relentless “involution” found in big corporations, nor the tense, guarded interpersonal relationships. Instead, I had working conditions that allowed me to be close to nature and the land, and a comfortable, healthy environment—all of which were deeply satisfying. To summarise the difficulties in a single sentence: farming is genuinely hard, regardless of whether it is backed by capital. I remember visiting a local family orchard once, where the owner remarked with a sigh: “Even within agriculture, growing fruit trees is far harder than growing crops.” It requires year-round care and the resilience to face sudden natural disasters or man-made mishaps. No one is a born farmer; it is only by bending your back, keeping your head down, and persevering that you can hope for a good result.

Regardless, agriculture is worth experiencing. Only by understanding the relationship between humans, food, and nature from the producer’s perspective can one truly “vote with their consumption”.

Foodthink Author

Yvonne

Someone dedicated to understanding and interpreting the “Anthropocene” that has exhausted the external world. A sociology student “on the run”, focusing on agriculture, the environment, and climate change.

All images in this article were taken by the author

Editor: Zen

I. Starting fruit farming from scratch: a bit of a challenge

Published by Foodthink