Swiss cows for Georgia

The grass is still damp from the night and the cool mountain air heralds autumn this Thursday morning at Lenzerheide GR. The ringing of cow bells mingles with the creek that runs alongside the pasture. Tatja Murghuev (19) approaches the herd of cows with slow but determined steps. As Tatja raises her arm and pats a cow’s stomach, some animals jump, three of them standing. He calmly talks to the animal and kneels down. Then she takes a pacifier and presses it together as if she were milking. “The fabric feels soft,” she says. Erectile dysfunction may indicate inflammation and the cow may need medication.

Tatja is from Georgia. He grew up in Chalisopeli, a village in one of the most remote mountain regions in the northeast of the country. The place is dead because most residents are moving to the city as soon as they are old enough. The valley is embedded in lush green hills and surrounded by high mountains. His family owns a farm with cows, goats, horses and chickens. They farm and make cheese for their own use. They cannot produce large quantities with their machines. Although half the population in Georgia works in agriculture, most farmers run small businesses that serve only to support themselves. There is a lack of expertise and quality. That’s why Tatja is at the farm in Lenzerheide.

Learn what it takes to make a farm in Switzerland economically valuable. He stays with Domenico and Rebeca Margreth (both 31) for a week. The couple runs a farm with 20 dairy cows, ten calves, 600 laying hens and three horses. “I hope I can learn as much from them as possible so I can practice it at home,” Tatja says. Even the management of the cows is different, the 19-year-old says: “Farmers in Georgia treat their animals very badly, they don’t care much about their health.” Along with Domenico and Rebeca, he immediately felt that they valued their animals very much.

Switzerland information in Georgia

Tatja’s colleagues Shotiko, Lela, Sandro and four young people aged between 18 and 30 are scattered across other farms in Graubünden. They go to the Swiss Agricultural School Caucasus to become a home farmer. The school opened last year in Sarkieti, a village in southern Georgia. Purpose: To teach Georgian youth the craft of Swiss agriculture and to give them practical training.

Caucasus School has a building with classrooms where young people take theory lessons. Almost more important are the barn, the milking station, the arable land and the cheese dairy and machinery based on Swiss technology. A herd of 30 Swiss Brown Cows graze on the pasture that also belongs to the school. In November 2021, Tatja and her classmates were the first to start a two-year apprenticeship. He can’t imagine life without animals: “My dream is to one day own my own farm and maybe get veterinary training later.”

Supporting agriculture in Georgia with Swiss know-how is thanks to one man: Mikho Svimonishvili (46), former Minister of Agriculture of Georgia. He studied in Switzerland and then joined the Plantahof Agricultural School in Landquart GR during a professional stay – one of the largest vocational schools for farmers in Switzerland, which trains several hundred farmers each year. Svimonishvili was impressed. “When I saw this school, I immediately realized that my country needed such a training center,” he says. Vision would not let him go. After retiring from politics, he worked for the project for years. An agricultural school can be built according to the Plantahof model when the idea receives financial support from the Gebert-Rüf-Foundation, which supports projects for the benefit of the Swiss economy and society, and from the Swiss Agency for Development and Cooperation.

“Animals give you a lot in return”

In Lenzerheide the sun rises even higher over the mountain peaks. Its warmth replaces the cool morning air. After inspecting the udders of the cows in the pasture, Tatja returns to the barn to see the laying hens. He knocks carefully on the door so as not to startle the chickens. Soon after, he starts giggling loudly. Tatja slowly enters the barn. It is never surrounded by a sea of ​​light brown feathers. He takes a chicken and rests its head on its neck, as if holding a cat. After the cuddling session, Tatja scatters the straw on the ground to keep it dry. “If you treat animals well, they give you a lot in return,” he says. When asked what he finds tiring on the farm, he laughs and says, “Nothing.” Waking up early every day is also a natural issue for him. “If I had known that cows or chickens were hungry, I would never have been able to sleep.”

In Georgia, not all young people have as strong a bond with animals and agriculture as Tatja does. According to Svimonishvili, about 80 percent of men go to university and vocational training is considered secondary. This attitude dates back to when Georgia was part of the Soviet Union. “The Caucasian school has the potential to revolutionize the attitudes of young people,” says Svimonishvili. “I want to show that vocational training also offers good career opportunities.” Its goal is to train around 100 people in the agricultural college over the next ten years. Some may work as teachers and pass the knowledge on to the next generation.

“Good to be needed”

The former politician says that Georgia is dependent on Swiss support. “Young farmers should understand how important it is to produce milk and cheese in a hygienic and quality way.” They should also learn from the Swiss work culture. Carl Brandenburger (70) plays an important role in this. He worked as a teacher at Plantahof for a long time. He is now retired and helping to create the Caucasian school’s curriculum. It’s good to be needed: “When I first came to Georgia and experienced the warmth of the people, I couldn’t help but participate in this project.” Brandenburger travels to Sarkineti every few months. Since most of the faculty in the agricultural school come from the university, it helps them to convey the knowledge to the students in a practical and understandable way. He checks that the machines are working properly in the barn and shows the trainees in the field how to make a fence on the pasture.

He taught the first lessons at the school after the opening in November last year. “I put food on a table and a pile of garbage next to it,” she says. “Then I explained to the students that the aluminum cans and plastic wrap around here make animals sick.” On the way to the animals after class, some students started collecting garbage. “Within a week everything was clean,” Brandenburger says. Although it was the workers, not the students, who left the litter, it was important to teach the young people what a healthy environment means for the animals on the farm. Only then can he show them how a milking machine works.