After a weekend of diversions, Monday was a day to work. After chingando a few tacos in the morning, the crew assembled around the tractor and awaited the arrival of el patrón. My alabaster hue and my lack of sombrero set me apart from my companions, the índio Fidencio and the mestizo Gerardo . El patrón arrived and began distributing our machetes. Fidencio weld the giant machetote, Gerardo elected the more refined curve of the gavilán, and el patrón kept the thicker, more meanacing gavilán. I recieved a hoe. El patrón's albatross father, don Santiago, was also to accompany us that day, in fact it was at his bidding that we abandoned other, more pressing matters, and instead went to Fresno to make firewood from the fallen trees.
Arriving at the fields, the others set to work swinging their machetes while I, "el güerito" toiled under the scorching sun weeding the endless rows of beans. Several hours later, at the patrón's bidding, I returned laden with sacks of avocados, lemons, jaramau and nísperos and began to labor along side my compadres. Don Santiago sat on the edge of the tractor, shouting instructions that no one really paid attention to. Unfortunately, our actions coincided with his instructions often enough that he felt validated to continue shouting. Three trees later, the tractor's trailer was full and we gathered around the campfire to pull our tamales from the ashes and sip our obscenely sweet aguita. Though the setting sun bid the day adieu, the work was not finished. El patrón and I still had 30 kg of lettuce to harvest.
Manos de campesino
Manos de campesino
This is an post increíble Nicky. It's so cool to hear your stories. Mom is worried about your hands.
ReplyDeleteNicky, your poor hands. You should come home right now!
ReplyDeleteI cracked up reading this post. It sounds like you really like Don Santiago. That's nice. And, like you are getting lots of practice with the hoe. I told Tomas not to give you one those dangerous machetes.
Is that a human or a monkey hand?
ReplyDelete