Replanting New Lives At Kasy Farm

Written & Photographed by Sarah Burchard

Videography and photography by Reel World Filmmakers

What are the chances two women from Laos would come to the United States, live separate lives for over 30 years, and wind up as business partners on a farm in Hawaiʻi?

But, this is exactly how Kasy Soun and Orathay Rasabout’s story goes.

In early December we visited Kasy Farm to hear Soun and Rasaboutʻs incredible life story and how they have survived the pandemic. While navigating squash vines and mosquitos we got to see what they grow and learn what they like to cook with their crops.

Rasabout has been farming with her family on Oʻahu since she was 13. She worked on a few different farms, including Aloun Farms, before discovering the Pacific Gateway Center Farm in Kunia, where her and her mom originally showed up as volunteers.

“That’s how I met my ‘sister’ here,” Rasabout said pointing to Soun.

When Soun and Rasabout met, they discovered they were both from Laos. Not only that, but it turned out their dads knew each other in the military. Soun contacted her biological sister and asked if the name Rasabout sounded familiar. She confirmed that Rasabout’s father lived only an hour from the village Soun grew up in.

Rasabout and her mom officially joined Kasy Farm in March, Rasabout taking over as farm manager.

Here, on a 4.7 acre farm surrounded by lush mountains and palm trees, hugging a peppy little farm dog named Kunia, they reflect on how they got here.

Caught in the midst of three wars – Vietnam, Indochine, and the Laotian Civil War – Soun and Rasabout had no choice but to flee their country. Seeking refuge in Thailand, they waited until they received sponsorship to come to the United States.

Sounʻs family were rice farmers in Laos. They spent five years in a Thailand refugee camp. When Soun was finally sponsored, she was sent to Wisconsin where she would go to school and later work on an assembly line in a factory for 17 years. Afterward, she moved to California to care for the elderly for another 13.

Two years ago she came to Hawaiʻi on vacation and never left.

“Wisconsin is cold,” Soun said. “They have four seasons. Here it’s like Laos. … I can’t farm over there. Here I can grow whatever I want.”

Soun’s sister introduced her to a farm owner on Oʻahu. Soun enjoyed the lifestyle and started working for him. After two years the owner became ill and decided he couldn’t work anymore. Soun took over in October 2020 and renamed it Kasy Farm.

Rasabout was only a toddler when she left Laos.

“We ran away from our own country,” she said. “We ran over the border to Thailand to become a refugee. They call it camp. Everyone gets a sponsor. You gotta wait. … All I remember was that it was a bunch of tents, everybody has their own individual tent like youʻd have your whole family in that tent. … You wake up and you wait in line for food. … And thereʻs no bathroom. No nothing. You had to run somewhere to take a shower. All I remember was just playing with the kids … because we were trying to get away from the Vietnam, Laos war at that time, so we donʻt have much stuff with us to play with.”

Rasabout gained sponsorship at age five and was stationed in Boston where she lived for 8 years before moving to Oʻahu.

“I’m more like a modernized American,” she said “...I was a little smaller as a refugee so we had, like, a boot camp. So we came here and became civilized in the United States, but we still had a culture, our own culture still.”

Awaiting sponsorship in Thailand

The “sisters” keep each other company on the farm and stay busy with production. Their secret weapon is Phouthone Nonthavy – Kasy’s first hire. Every week he carefully plants seedlings into small trays, where they have time to mature in a safe space before being transferred to the field to become full versions of themselves. Much like Rasabout and Sounʻs time on the mainland after fleeing war, before coming to Hawaii to flourish as farmers.

With Nonthavy’s skills and the sisterʻs hard work the farm stays brimming with pumpkins, long squash, long beans, eggplant, tomatoes, bamboo shoots, and bananas year round.

Crops are constantly being rotated in kindness to the land. Walking through the farm we come across a baron stretch of vines, formerly peppered with long beans. Rasabout explains it is about to be uprooted and replaced with papaya trees. “You guys want to help us clean?” she playfully giggles.

A vast canopy of long squash propped up with trellises invites you to crawl inside. “You can sleep here!,” Rasabout joked. “...You can bring your mat and a radio. You could dance all night!”

Long Squash

Around the corner a pumpkin patch of scratchy leaves bites at Soun’s ankles. “We have to wear boots every day. Work in the field you gotta have boots honey,” she explains.

Soun and Rasabout recommend dishes you can make with their crops -– squash soup, eggplant tempura, and spicy sauce made by pounding fresh tomatoes, chilis, fish sauce, and cilantro with a mortar and pestle.

They describe a dessert called faktong sangkaya, where they cut off the top of a pumpkin, remove the seeds, fill it with coconut custard, put the top back on, and bake it slowly.

“I’m a good cook,” Soun said. “I like to cook Asian food honey. Not American. I don’t know how. … Spaghetti. I know how to make spaghetti.”

We discussed the dish they would demonstrate for us the following day at the Pacific Gateway Center’s Culinary Business Incubator Kitchen. Soun chose Green Coconut Chicken Curry, because she knew it would be a crowd pleaser. Chef Paul Matsumoto and team would be preparing 200 portions of her recipe for a Chef Hui distribution the same day.

Soun admits that she usually just cooks “old school” though. “You know, like, beef jerky with sticky rice with spicy sauce,” she said.

Despite all the laughter and the sister’s jubilant demeanors, life isn’t always paradise on the farm.

The pandemic took a toll. Distributors that once came regularly to purchase produce for Chinatown markets vanished, and by the time they returned the vegetables were so oversized they no longer wanted them. Rasabout estimates that they lost almost 2000 pounds of vegetables during the government shutdown.

“They all fall on the floor, Soun said. “Nobody want to buy it. Everything, the eggplants, the squash everything.”

Despite losing outlets for their harvests Soun and Rasabout hedged their bets and started planting again. An act of persistence and faith they have been practicing their entire lives. If the market came back they would be ready.

“We have to keep going,” Rasabout said. “If you stop, we don’t have produce and we don’t make money. That’s why we know that in three months we gotta plant again. It takes three months to grow.”

Chef Hui volunteers preparing Green Coconut Chicken Curry for distribution

Soun and Rasabout remain hopeful for the new year saying that business has picked up. Still, the arrival of winter makes it hard to keep up with production. 

“I worry about my vegetables,” Soun said. “I don’t like it, the raining every day. It kills my vegetables.” 

Rasabout manages her stress in a unique way. 

“I go punch a banana. I go punch a papaya!” she laughs. 

Despite business challenges the sisters are extremely grateful. They have reached a point in their lives where they no longer have to run, be told what to do or where to live. 

“We have fresh vegetables, we eat good,” Rasabout said.

Kasy Farm is located in the Pacific Gateway Center Farms in Kunia on Oʻahu. Their produce is available inside Chinatown Marketplace at City Square Shopping Center and select markets in Chinatown and Waikīkī.