I didn’t think the countryside would welcome Asian people like me – until this 77-year-old farmer changed my mind forever

The BBC's 'Countryfile' reported that people of colour view rural regions as less welcoming, but my unlikely friendship has taught me that my world could be a lot bigger than my old London bubble

I love the countryside. I’m a writer and have a rather romantic view of it; I think of Beatrix Potter writing in the Lake District and novels by Thomas Hardy set in the wild country. And yet, I was rather reluctant to move to it when the opportunity arose last year.

Last Sunday’s broadcast of Countryfile included a report by Defra stating that the countryside is seen by BAME people as being very much a white environment. And being British-Asian, this forced me to examine my own feelings towards it.

Coming from London, the countryside feels limited and myopic. It does not have the diversity that I am used to. I don’t feel conspicuous in London like I do in the country. In the capital, I’m an integral part of the multi-coloured patchwork of the city. In the country, apart from the odd Indian and Chinese restaurant in the towns, if I fancy Mexican tacos or Japanese, I’ll have to make it myself or hunt wide and far. There is little demand for the foreign or exotic. And in a way, I interpreted that as how the countryside felt about me: not interested in anything foreign.

I’ve been living in the countryside for almost a year now. And it’s true, it is not worldly like London or New York (where I lived for a month). It does not have many people that look like me. Walking in the big cities, you hear a myriad of languages that enrich the city, making you feel like you’re in the centre of the universe. And I love that about London, it appeals to my idea of being a world citizen. But it’s wrong for me to compare an international city like that to my new country abode; doing so is to deny the unique offerings of the countryside.

Yes, it’s true, people here do not appear to have the same experiences as me, and because of this I do feel a little alienated; there’s comfort in shared experiences. But there is diversity. The diversity has come from the friendships that I have managed to forge.

I have become friends with a 77-year-old farmer. He has never ventured outside of Wales. We couldn’t be more different. Compared to me, his experience of the world is limited and rather provincial. But that does not mean he has nothing to teach or offer me. I feel my friendship with him has helped me step out of my own arrogance. We have a mutual fascination with each other. I am intrigued by how in tune he is with nature.

One day on a county walk, I bumped into him. He told me that in 10 days time, the cuckoo will arrive from Africa. And sure enough, in 10 days I heard the cuckoo. This interest we have in each other comes from both of us acknowledging our difference of race, age, sex and cultural environment.

He’s never eaten an Indian meal. There is no denying – we come from different worlds. He’s interested in me; flighty, excitable,Indian. In the past, his fascination with me, partly because of my race, would have annoyed me, I might have viewed it as plain ignorance. But I view it quite differently now, I’m glad he has an interest in me, just as I am with his commitment to the land. I want to know all his stories.

He told me his bachelor uncle, a farmer, had the same food for every meal; bread, cheese and a cup of tea for breakfast, lunch and dinner. A habit he had for 40 years. To my farmer friend, I represent the city: protests, pollution, stabbings, consumerism, multiculturalism – “I heard it’s a place best avoided”, he recently said. And it’s funny hearing someone say this about a place that’s my home. But living in the countryside, I can see how someone may perceive the city as a rather wretched place. I have begun to see things with his eyes.

Since living in the countryside, my world has got bigger, which is strange when I think about all the reservations I had being a member of the BAME community. I can spot buzzards, hares, and I know that a cuckoo invades other bird nests to lay its own eggs. My farmer friend told me that.

I was once afraid of living in the countryside – it had nothing to offer a British-Asian girl from the city. But my unlikely friendship with a 77-year-old farmer has taught me that the countryside has a lot to offer me. F Scott Fitzgerald once wrote: "The world only exists in your eyes. You can make it as big or as small as you want." Just like my friendship, the countryside and the city slicker can learn much from each other.