On Frijole Time

Tulio’s compound is hidden in a thick growth of trees on a ridge overlooking the river and El Pital. There are three houses, two of mud-stick-maneca inhabitated by Tulio and his wife, and his eldest son, respectively, and one “cabanita” of wood where Mundo lived before he worked for Peter. There are animals everywhere, at least two milk cows and calves, numerous emaciated dogs, chickens of every shape and size (guinea hens, ones with permanently ruffled feathers, others called “toad chickens”, some without any neck feathers, others without any tail feathers), roosting pigeons, foraging pigs, and frequently several horses as well. It is a place built of extraordinary diligence. Mundo told me later that when he was younger his father worked very high in the mountains, at least a three hours walk, and so he would leave at three in the morning and return late. At that time, he had no horses, and so he brought back 100 pound sacks of beans and corn on his shoulders.

Today the task is harvesting beans. It is something of an urgent task, because there has been a lot of rain, and some are nearly sprouting. Tony and Jesse go with Mundo and I with Tulio to separate fields, to learn. It is a new skill to me.

As it turns out, it is relatively simple. The beans are about eight inches apart, and we have only to yank them out of the ground, tie them in small bundles with strips of bark we have hanging from our beltloops, and hang them to dry on sticks and corn stalks. In places, however, the ground is quite steep, and I move awkwardly with my lanky body and oversized rubber boots (I have enough trouble on flat ground…)

Tulio tells me that last year he lost 4000 pounds of beans to the rain, almost his whole haravest. I ask him if he grows them to sell or to eat, and he says, “If there is a lot, I sell; if not, only eat.” It is the same with all his crops. “Si hay bastante . . .” On the way back we stop to look at his tomato and pepper seedlings, carefully sown under tree-limb frames that can be covered with maneca (palm branches) in hot sun or hard rain.

There is not much to harvest in this field, so after a delicious breakfast of corn tortillas, beans and eggs, we head over to the other field where Mundo, Tony, Jesse, Marcos, and two others are working. This field is Mundo’s, but everyone works here. On another hillside, the older brother Alberto is laboring alone.
We work here for another two hours, and I enjoy a conversation with Mundo that is hilarious at times. His younger brother and my older brother are looking for wives, and I tell him that Milton (Peter’s adopted son) is looking for Peter’s wife. He tells me, too, that up high the beans grow about twice as tall.

After a lunch of yuca, beans, rice, and chicken(!), Mundo takes me to do some threshing. We spread out a tarp and pile on dried bundles of bean plants. Then we each take two freshly cut sticks, each about two and a half feet long, and literally beat the beans out of the pile. With each stroke, dark red treasures appear and scatter, like rubies in sand. It is a hot and dusty job, and my hands quickly develop blisters. Mundo tells me to rest, that it is not good to work too hard when you’re not accustomed to it, but he keeps on, only stopping to fill my water jug when I am weak with thirst. Apparently the last harvest they had, he threshed all day long, from 7 to 2. And then when we are done, he hoists the seventy pounds of beans onto his shoulder and leads us back to the house, strolling across slopes on which I can hardly keep my balance.

It is at this point – feeling weakness spreading rapidly through my limbs – that I wonder if I could really be a farmer. Would I have the strength? But Santito (another friend) is encouraging. We stop at his house on the way home just as he is walking up with a log, about 12 feet long and 6-8 inches in diameter, on his shoulders. He has just crossed a chest-high river with it. When I tell him that we are tired because we are not accustomed to the work, he says, “well, little by little.”

I have not been able to go back for two days because of a giardia infestation in my bowels (which makes itself known by causing sulphur burps at regular intervals), but I want to. I want to learn all I can while we're here.

Well, little by little.