A group of us including the teamster, a young boy, crowded onto this hummock under the asoro tree to eat lunch. I hadn't brought anything to eat and planned to go without but that was out of the question.
One of the women opened a basket and handed out pieces of round bread, like a tortilla or Nan. On top of this they shoveled a pile of sautéed vegetables, left overs pumpkin greens, and then lots of rice and we wrapped the bread like a taco and ate them off stainless steel plates. I kept demurring saying I wasn’t hungry, trying to be polite, but they ganged up on me and forced me to eat (I’m joking). It was delicious. It tasted so good!
We drank cool spring water from a bucket that was passed around and we sat and looked across at the mountains. I asked my litany of a thousand questions and they sat patiently and answered them all. Then they asked their litany of a thousand questions. One of the women told me her “story”, her life’s narrative, of trying to change the status quo, trying to save the forests from being sold and destroyed, of children dying, of hating her husband, of feeling stuck, and of desperately wanting an education.
This was the young teamster who ate lunch with us. When lunch was over and we went back to work I stopped to take a few pictures and then I asked the boy if I could take his buffalo team for “a spin” and try my hand at smoothing out a paddy. Now the women’s laughter resounded louder than ever across the plains but I deftly jumped on the smoothing board, took the whip and the reins and in a few minutes was doing a credible job. The boy wanted to know why I could do that so well and I explained that, among other things, I was a farmer back in the US and with that I solidified my acceptance.
I planted rice in the women’s line for the rest of the day. When it was quitting time the whole crew, men included, walked to the village and took turns washing off under the water pump at the well.
A group of us including the teamster, a young boy, crowded onto this hummock under the asoro tree to eat lunch. I hadn't brought anything to eat and planned to go without but that was out of the question.
One of the women opened a basket and handed out pieces of round bread, like a tortilla or Nan. On top of this they shoveled a pile of sautéed vegetables, left overs pumpkin greens, and then lots of rice and we wrapped the bread like a taco and ate them off stainless steel plates. I kept demurring saying I wasn’t hungry, trying to be polite, but they ganged up on me and forced me to eat (I’m joking). It was delicious. It tasted so good!
We drank cool spring water from a bucket that was passed around and we sat and looked across at the mountains. I asked my litany of a thousand questions and they sat patiently and answered them all. Then they asked their litany of a thousand questions. One of the women told me her “story”, her life’s narrative, of trying to change the status quo, trying to save the forests from being sold and destroyed, of children dying, of hating her husband, of feeling stuck, and of desperately wanting an education.
This was the young teamster who ate lunch with us. When lunch was over and we went back to work I stopped to take a few pictures and then I asked the boy if I could take his buffalo team for “a spin” and try my hand at smoothing out a paddy. Now the women’s laughter resounded louder than ever across the plains but I deftly jumped on the smoothing board, took the whip and the reins and in a few minutes was doing a credible job. The boy wanted to know why I could do that so well and I explained that, among other things, I was a farmer back in the US and with that I solidified my acceptance.
I planted rice in the women’s line for the rest of the day. When it was quitting time the whole crew, men included, walked to the village and took turns washing off under the water pump at the well.
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