When I first started working in the Australian dairy industry, the year was 2013. We were in a terrible drought and people were talking about the industry's inevitable collapse. I wondered what I'd gotten myself into.
Then in April 2022, commodity milk values hit $10.21 a kilogram milk solids, which is the highest it's ever been - and everyone seemed (reasonably) happy. Wealth and prosperity were widespread.
And now... just several months down the track, the eastern side of Australia has seen hundreds of millions of dollars in flood damage to crops and milk factories are closing. Being a dairy farmer has always seemed like a life of ups and downs.
Earlier this year, I got to have a taste of what that volatility feels like. I put my house on the market, which had been seeing historic highs after record-low interest rates. It seemed unbelievable that it could be worth so much more after just a few years.
And then... my house was flooded, along with most of my town. The widespread damage in Victoria means the only option is to join the queue for home repairs and hope that things work out in the next 6-12 months. The river levels aren't the only thing rising, with interest rates on the up and up.
Soggy housing has not been fun, but it has also been a cruel blow to dairy farmers who were expecting a bumper crop, with feed shortages now looming. Not to mention farmers who have had cows swept away by floods or are now battling lame herds and mastitis.
Going through this process has made me wonder about resilience, and how people cope with the stress of this rollercoaster existence. For some, it seems like the options are to lose yourself in work; to try and find an escape; to look for someone to blame. However, even in the depths of cynicism, I want to share some brighter sparks that I've found helpful for navigating this unhappiness.
The first has been a sense of community. The water didn't pick and choose who to flood based on any sensible criteria - in my town, almost everybody went under. It didn't matter who you were - people packed sandbags, looked after kids, picked up garbage. Old arguments were set aside (temporarily). During the clean-up, I've talked to people I would never really have encountered while I was still living there. It's small, but it's something. We were in it together.
The second has been an immense feeling of gratitude. It has been overwhelming how people have helped without asking: with sandbags and rubbish removal, with baked goods and pressure washers. There has been a focus on people who have tried to take advantage of the disaster through fraud or theft. But really, I've come out feeling like they're a minority when compared with the people who showed up out of the blue to tear up carpet, extract sodden ducted heating vents from under houses, and tip flood-damaged cupboards into a truck. People are pretty good at heart, even when they're the ones needing help as much as anyone.
Sometimes it's been good to laugh instead of cry, even if the jokes get dark and there is a lot of swearing.
- Ee Cheng Ooi
The third has been a sense of humour. Sometimes it's been good to laugh instead of cry, even if the jokes get dark and there is a lot of swearing.
I don't want to minimise the unpleasantness of bad times. It's frustrating to have people tell you to 'just think positively', especially if they're warm and dry (and live on a hill). It's just as hard to write about this; as someone whose house was at least vacant and insured when it went under, I feel guilty around those who lost everything.
I didn't have to get evacuated by boat - so can I even really say anything? Should I say anything? Natural disasters feel very strange, especially when the media and the volunteers pack up and go away, and you're left with the day-to-day reality of mud and mould.
It's a hard place to be. Along with a new love-hate relationship with my insurance company, I think I've emerged from this mess with an admiration for farmers who constantly deal with this life of volatility.
*Ee Cheng Ooi is a cattle veterinarian undertaking a PhD in fertility and genetics at DairyBio. All comments and information in this article are intended to be of general nature only. Please consult the farm's vet for advice, protocols and/or treatments that are tailored to the herd's particular needs. Comments and feedback are welcome, email ecooi.vet@gmail.com.
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