Harvest

Elvira is one of the women who attends the Adult Literacy Class that Jaime and I teach every Wednesday evening in Zacango. She has seven or eight children; the oldest is in his teens and the youngest just turned two. Her husband is in the States with a panadería (bakery) business who sends remittances and returns two of three times a year. He plans to return for Christmas.

The family has a plot of land of about 1 hectare planted with corn near the community primary school. In Zacango, harvest began in late October, and Elvira is one of the last to finish. There seems to be a general understanding in the community that all the corn will be harvested by November 30, as on that day the animals are released of their pens and allowed to roam free, eating all the bare corn stocks.

Jaime and I agreed to help Elvira and her sons on Thursday morning with her harvest that began two days previously. Everyone was hard at work by 7am, though I arrived by 8:30, since my morning ritual of coffee and reading was too difficult for me to break. As I called out to Elvira and Jaime that I had finally arrived, Elvira laughed and said they were almost ready for a break. I traipsed across the field unsure of the rows declaring that I should at least learn the task at hand before break.

There is nothing mechanized about harvest. Earlier in the month, they had gone through the fields and harvested the zacate (silage), so that all the remained in the fields were the stocks with ears of corn on top that had been drying in the sun for the past few weeks. The silage would be used as animal feed in the coming months, and the corn would be used for making tortillas and any other number of corn based dishes. I quickly learned to husk the ear of corn and leave the dry husk and silk on the ground. Jaime and Elvira had a short metal stick that helped to open the husk, but I preferred to use by nails and fingers. I stood with Jaime and Elvira throwing the husked ears into sacks that would later be dragged to Elvira’s house for drying.

With five ears of corn harvested to my name, we were done with that section and walking the 5 minutes to her house for almuerzo (lunch, but refers to 10-11am meal). Her house is full of plants with a relaxing open air space behind the house with a dinning table and wood fired stove for cooking. The uncovered entryway was piled with harvested corn that was drying. With a welcome gentle breeze blowing through metal covered porch, we drank atole de piña and ate fresh tortillas, hard boiled eggs and salsa of pure red chiles.

Before returning to work, Elvira showed us around her place. She still had some cilantro and tomato plants from the family garden project the MCC supported in the summer. Since Jaime was interested in her pigs, we appreciated the four dirty pigs, including two piglets, which would soon be released to eat in the harvested fields.

It soon became evident that Elvira is both hard working and very entrepreneurial. She pointed out a cotton like tree in here backyard. The seeds from this tree are brown and bead like which she uses to make bracelets. Jaime and I now have one to remember our harvest day. She picked up a dried, round flower that she was going to paint and sell as a decoration. Last week as I was driving home from Zacango, I saw Elvira and her mother picking clahuancas (small sour fruit) a half mile from town. On the weekends, she sells the fruit in Olinalá. While she is in town, she also sells baby hats that she crochets during her nonexistent free time. She is full of ideas and always working.

With more admiration for her work ethic, we returned to another part of the field, the sun high in the sky. The two young kids built a small fort for shade out of the corn sacks and corn stocks. We picked the corn, working our way down the rows. I was hot enough with my tank top and could not imagine what Elvira felt with her black sweater on, but she seems unfazed. At the end of our rows, Elvira thanked us and said that we would leave the rest for her sons to finish. While I would have continued, I was glad to escape the midday heat.