Grass

Any homeowner in the US knows about grass.  This is an essential social skill of living in a neighborhood, be it the country, suburbia or the city.  We believe one can tell a lot about a person by their lawn and hold people accountable accordingly.  A poorly maintained, browning, overgrown lawn would bring not only the scorn of neighbors, but in some parts, a fine from the city or homeowners association.  When you buy a house, you need to know your grass. 

I have had a long and tenuous relationship with my lawns starting with my first house in Florida almost 20 years ago.  I had no clue about grass and paid a terrible price for it.  Who knew that when they lay sod, you had to water it or it would die and be replaced by an indestructible army of weeds.  Who knew?  There is no class on this; no instructions on the sod – only the scornful looks of neighbors and the occasional nasty, anonymous note.  But even the notes do not have any words of guidance, they just say, “quit embarrassing us and get your shit in order.” Eventually, over the next two decades, I learned techniques and tricks in the art of maintaining a lawn and, over that time upgraded my status from scorned to scorner.  Also, as I have moved from home to home (4 in all), I have reduced my grass footprint significantly and this, I can tell you is the best technique of all.  I mean, what moron cannot keep a 10 x 10 plot of grass green and mowed.

In moving to India, I noticed that they neither had the same passion around nor need for the green ground covering.  Firstly, for such a green city (and by green I mean many trees, not environmentally conscious), Delhi has a surprising dearth of grass.  Paths in the Delhi parks wind through beautiful trees and bushes surrounded by wide-open areas of mud.  Even in the office complexes, where there has been a clear effort to plant and maintain grass, there are expansive swaths of mud.  I say mud, as they have no topsoil here, but heavy clay & sand soil on which they dump copious amounts of water in an effort to make things grow in it. 

The reason I am on about grass is that the geniuses that built our office building have finally decided to take care of the trash heap that abuts our building and create a green-space. The building has been completed for 3 years, but apparently this was not a priority (we also do not have a paved road, bit more on that another time).  The space, or as I call it, the trash heap, for my first year was a mixture of construction debris, garbage and the occasional family dwelling.  I had become used to the morning routine of the trash heap and when the cadre of guards came out to pee, I knew my day had truly started. Now, though, they have decided to “improve” the land and I have a new form of entertainment – grass planting. 

The process began over two months ago when the weather was hovering around the mid-70s and rain was occasional, albeit not frequent.  A good time to plant grass.  One day, a bulldozer was unloaded on the edge of the heap and after the usual smoke break, pee break and nap, the Delhi workers began to push all the debris into the neighboring building’s abutment.  In India, we would never actually clean up anything, when there is a perfectly good lot next door in which to dump your crap.  It just makes good sense!  This Process took roughly a week to accomplish as the area is large, the trash was deep and there was a lot of napping and peeing that needed to happen by the workforce. 

Once the area was cleared and flattened, a group of women arrived to remove the rocks and stones from the area.   Yep, four women crouched on the ground, picked through the dirt of an area the size of a football field and removed each rock and stone by hand.  Very impressive!  It took them roughly two weeks to complete their task and the only break they took was lunch.  Union workers could learn a thing or two from the women of Bihar!

With the land rock-free, I was sure that the sod would arrive soon.  I was wrong.  A week went by and then another with no activity in the void.  Each day, I held my excitement for the next stage!  Finally, just when I could take it no more, trucks began to arrive with dirt.  As I mentioned, the soil here is hard clay, so this was a promising sign.  Maybe someone really did know how to grow grass.  The soil-men jumped on the backs of the trucks and shoveled the soil into large piles around the pitch.  As they did, another group spread it out.  This was actually very effective and within the week the ground was ready.  Again, though, weeks went by before the next group arrived. 

Finally, a few men arrived with large sacks of fertilizer and began throwing it around the area.  A big clump here, none there.  This went on for a few days until they felt satisfied that the bags were empty.  A tractor then churned the mixture and made for a nice fertile planting area.  “OK,” I thought, “now we are getting somewhere.”  But, alas, we were not.  The field fell idle for several more weeks as the foot traffic pounded the churned, loose soil back into hardpack.

By now, the temperature was climbing into the high 80s and, although still pleasant, the rains were noticeably absent and the ground was starting to dry out.  There was speculation in the office that this was as far as they would go and the trash, pee and families would be back in a few weeks.  Others were more optimistic.  I was simply curious. 

Then, one morning, a group of men and women appeared on the field and dumped sacks of grass cuttings, albeit not fresh looking grass cuttings, into large piles at the edge. I watched in amazement, as the group used a small tool to make a hole and then jammed the tuff of brown and gray grass into the divot.  They methodically started at one end and over the coarse of the next two weeks, planted tuffs every ½ foot or so over the entire area.  As they completed each section, a person would come out with a hose and completely drown the grass against the heat and unrelenting sun.  Day by day, this continued until finally, last week, the entire area had been “planted.”  Little tuffs of dead grass stuck into a muddy field in 100-degree heat and no chance of rain for 5 months.

 

Planting the tuffs

The finished product

Watering 

Hosing the entire area late in the day
Temp 97 degrees

Around the office, we had much discussion concerning what I felt was the folly of the grass planted, but no one else seemed worried.  There is a general optimism that this is how grass is planted and in a few months, we will have a lush lawn out our window.   I have decided that if lush green grass emerges, I am sending a bag of these magic grass cutting to my sister in Arizona to plant during the summer, because clearly the Indians have found a way to make grass grow without seed or sod in the blazing heat.

We shall see!