Viewing the canyon from below the stalks of beans gives the entire gorge a distinct façade. Now that the rain has treated the crops well the cliffs are just resplendently green, and to view this green from between the leaves of the beans I pick gives me a sense of amalgamation with the earth beneath me. It makes me feel so small with my limited view, and yet a part of it.
Ok, enough of the dramatic, pretty verbiage…
I went to pick avas (kind of like big lima beans, a staple of the diet here) with my host sister this morning. It was the field of a neighbor and she brought her kids. Somehow I managed to convince the little ones that finding the fattest ava pods was a really fun game and they made my day a lot easier. It isn’t like the little beans perk up when to come to pick them and say, “Here I am!”. No, everything is green, the stalk, the leaves, the pods. And the beans manage to parallel themselves to the stalk just below it’s leaves making it anything but easy to find them. But, it felt good, none-the-less, to crouch down with the greenery and play hide and go seek with the kids and nasty chalky beans I avoid eating at all costs.
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