Friday, October 24, 2008
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.