Aunti Noemi and I pound rice at her cousin's house. Notice - she only uses one hand to lift that ~5 lb. pestle of wood. She's one of the strongest women I know. I told her I could chuck a softball pretty far, so I was considered a strong girl in the U.S., but her muscles top mine, hands down (literally, we had an arm-wrestling contest to prove it! haha).

Hanging bridge

One of several beautiful swinging bridges along our hike to the mountain rice farm.

Harvesting

This week, I had the opportunity to travel with my host mom to her cousin's mountain rice field. We harvested the rice that we'll use to cook for my despidida (farewell party). It was a sweet and full time. We talked over our work, moving from stalk to stalk breaking the hard stems in our hands, one by one. It is harder for me to romanticize farm work now after experiencing the tiredness in my body after working in the fields all day. As is to be expected, I feel a deeper appreciation for people who cultivate their own food, and hope I can be one of them someday soon.