Agritourism business fights in vain for government help

By Cecilia Nasmith

Everyone passing through Salem on County Road 2 can treat themselves to a glimpse of the beautiful gentle creatures grazing behind the wire fence at Old Mill Alpacas.

It's a wonderful agritourism operation with a beautiful gift shop and a popular year-round tour-and-trek feature to take visitors around the farm and introduce them to this amazing animal.

Unfortunately, owner Amy Kung-Oliver has had next-to-zero luck getting government grants that have been offered for businesses, for agribusinesses or even for tourism businesses.

Without the kindness and open hearts of her community, she said in a recent interview, she would have had to close – and face the heart-breaking decision of what might become of her beloved alpacas.

Sorting the fleece from the recent annual shearing, Amy warms up instantly when she talks about these timid animals (and one of their most extraordinary features is that fleece).

The alpaca is the domesticated form of the vicuna, which runs wild in Peru. Their shearing is like a national event in that South American country, with the animals corralled up in the Andes mountains in their ancient pens. But the fleece is so slow-growing, this only happens every three years. The fleece grows much faster on the domesticated alpaca, and there can be annual harvests of this extraordinary fibre.

“Alpaca fleece is five to seven times more insulating than sheep's wool. It's hypoallergenic, and it's the second-strongest fibre for clothing that there is – after mohair, which is from the angora goat,” she said.

The results can be seen in the gift shop on the second floor of an old barn, with its displays of alpaca wool, garments and outerwear (as well as a basket of adorable llama greeting cards).

Compared to cashmere socks, those snuggly alpaca socks on the table last years longer and have far greater tensile strength.

For those with sweaty feet, it releases moisture 100% so there is no bacterial growth. It's great for workers who spend a lot of time on their feet.

If she can afford it at all, Amy will give a good discount or a BOGO offer on alpaca socks to members of the military who may have to serve in such desert countries as Afghanistan. It will keep their feet from sweating through scorching days, then keep them warm on chilly nights. You don't even have to wash them that often if you remember to turn them inside out and hang them up to air.

“When it's 100% dry, there's no bacteria or fungal growth,” she pointed out.

Then there are the bags of fleece Amy gives to small-scale chicken farmers. The chicken-poo piles outside the coops freeze over the winter and thaw into a gooey mess in the spring. By scattering fleece on the ground at poo sites, and shavings on top of that, they can rake away the poo and nothing freezes to the ground.
The chickens notice this insulating property and sometimes take some of the fleece inside to line their nests. These are the chickens who seem to lay more eggs in the winter than the others.

Each Old Mill alpaca eats a pound of hay twice a day – not a lot compared to sheep, horses and cows. As ruminants (animals with multiple stomachs), they have very efficient digestive systems.

“Everything is processed through, and everything is extracted,” Amy said.

Alpacas seem to designate a single site for their poo, as pigs do. It makes parasite and bacteria control easy, as they can just sanitize the piles daily – no contamination spread through a field.

Once a year, they remove the pile, clean the site, put down composting and seed the area. The poo is taken away, then turned regularly to make a compost that's very desirable for farmers, as there is no smell and the phosphates are extremely high.

Alpacas don't weigh a lot, so they don't compact the ground. And instead of hooves, they have the kind of toenail-and-pad foot similar to a dog's.

Amy clearly has an educator's soul when it comes to alpacas, and enjoys no audience more than the school groups that used to visit. So many of today's children are so far removed from the farm, they say “Wal-Mart” when she asks where their clothes come from.

The motto of Old Mill is From Field to Fashion and Home, and she likes to give the kids fleece to pull at and feel. Then she instructs them to twist it into something like lengths of yarn and see how strong it becomes.

“I love it, I absolutely love it when the kids come,” she declared.

As a child, she wanted to be a vet. Her father – a doctor – refused to fund university studies that would produce a doctor for animals, as opposed to people, so she went into the arts.

“And guess what? Years later, where am I? With my animals, treating them for abscesses, injecting them for infections, and I absolutely love it. I would die if something happened to the farm and I had to get rid of the animals.”

It's been hard to stave off that heart-rending scenario over the past year of COVID, as they went from welcoming bus tours of 50 to groups of no more than 10 individuals (provided they are all in the same bubble).

“We were booked solid – solid – until August. Then I had to cancel everybody,” Amy said.

Wanting to adhere to both the letter and the spirit of the restrictions, she said, “we did less than we were allowed to.”

They gave up chances for weddings and engagement parties, for example, knowing people would not be staying distanced and masked. They adjusted everything they could.

“We did the right thing. And thank God I had volunteers,” she said.

“I stayed with the guidelines and tried to be a good citizen, to do everything right, while there are other alpaca farmers who stayed open.

“At the same time, I am angry because they are the ones who did stay alive, while the ones who actually worked with the guidelines get screwed.”

Amy was thankful to qualify for CERB. Then her account changed to a CRB claim and, within two payments, it stopped.

What followed thereafter was a vicious cycle. She would enquire, she would be told they needed certain documents, she would hunt up and submit the documents, and then hear nothing – so she would enquire again, be told of other documents they needed, and so on and so on.

Once in a while, just for variety, she would be told she was “in the queue.” She would ask them what they thought she was eating, how they thought she was heating her home, why they thought she was behind on her mortgage.

“Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing from the end of January to April,” she summed up.

And calling to enquire was a big deal, she noted, as it tied her down to staying in her home (where she has her internet connection) for hours on end, waiting to talk to someone on the other end.

She is grateful for the work of her bookkeeper in helping her get documents. But being told they needed things like her tax returns and notices of assessment that were already in government hands was especially irksome.

And while that time was ticking by, she lost the opportunity to try for other grants, as she wasn't allowed to apply while she was under review.

She e-mailed the Prime Minister's office, and got nothing more than an expression of sympathy.

She contacted Northumberland-Peterborough South MP Philip Lawrence but nothing changed, even though he stated that her business is integral to the Northumberland reopening plan.

Eventually she found other people who actually came through for her, like Mayor Mandy Martin, who continues to work hard on her behalf.

And she began receiving support, but not from anyone in government. Her mechanic, for instance, was willing to defer payment for a very long time – until his own business was in dire straits, and he had to tell her he needed the money because he couldn't get any funding himself.

Then there was the food supplier who learned she had zero income. He began bringing food over and making donations.

Another friend who is active in Food Share Toronto – who has some land in Cramahe Township – brought her some food that he said was left over. But it was brand-new food in Metro bags.

Her wonderful hay supplier to whom she owes more than $3,000 is telling her to pay when she can afford it.

And her son, who cannot really afford it, has given her a loan.

But what brings tears to her eyes is the kindness of her friends from boarding school in England 40 years ago, who heard her bank account was down to $21.

“These girls got together to send me over $2,200 to keep me going,” she said.

“So I'm getting help from England, and not from my own government. That is what it has come down to,” she said.

I kept telling our workers, 'We'll be OK. The government will take care of us.'

Amy did eventually get a Small Business Support Grant. But even though the Ontario government announced that these grant recipients would automatically get a second payment in the same amount without reapplying, she was told she was ineligible.

“The second one apparently is targeted for the tourist trade,” she said.

“If my sign is on the highway, am I not a tourist attraction?” she asked, referring to the official Ontario Tourism-Oriented Directional Signage she pays a yearly fee for. That fee, by the way, rose from to $1,800 this year.

“The Ministry of Agriculture has given equine businesses, riding facilities, $2,500 per horse for feed – what do you think, alpacas don't eat? $2,500 a month would feed my whole herd of 86.
“I have nothing against horse people – I love horses. But if they can get emergency response support for equines, why are we not getting any, the goat farmers, the sheep farmers? We are all producers.”

The stress of fighting so hard (and, so often, in vain) to get the kind of government assistance that seems to come so easily to others is difficult to reconcile with the fact that – before COVID – she was so proud to be a Canadian.

But the pleasure of sharing the beauty of the Old Mill Alpacas property and its fluffy four-legged inhabitants never dims, and she is thankful for any opportunity to do that.

Amy sets aside special times for kids, especially ones with autism, ADHD, anxiety or other issues. Much as these animals uplift and nourish the adults, there's the same effect on these children.

These gentle creatures and the peaceful grounds have so much value beyond the educational, she said. Mindful of the spiritual nature of the place, she is looking forward to resuming alpaca yoga almost as much as she is to welcoming as many visitors as she can.

She has invited members of the clergy to hold their services here, and reached out to doctors, nurses and other front-line workers who have put themselves at risk to let them know they are welcome to take a respite here.

“If you are depleted, bring a picnic, lie in the paddock with the alpacas, come and refresh – I don't even have to see you. Just let me know you are coming,” she paraphrased.

“That's what I always wanted this place to be. Come and soak in what you need.”