Nica time is a powerful concept. No one is on time for anything, nor expected to be. But our first training is tomorrow morning, at 10 am sharp. With the foreseen difficulties in punctuality, we spent the past few days visiting each woman individually in her home, getting her excited and prepared for a prompt start on Monday morning
Our first stop was Doña Catalina’s house, and we had taken on a fourth musketeer. The unofficial president of the community, Doña Cata’s a spunky lady who knows every family intimately and whose door is always open. We meandered from house to house, Doña calling from a house away, “Theresa, Theresa! Buuuenas, buenas!” announcing our presence.
On the way inside, Doña would pluck a flower from a tree outside and tuck it behind her ear, before starting her bit. 9:30 sharp, she told them. We went over which veggies each woman had chosen. Almost everyone wants plantains and yucca. Nobody chose pepino, or cucumbers. Doña and Gloria think cukes are important, so every family is receiving pepino seeds in addition to their 3 choices. I’ve been known to eat one whole, so I’m not dissenting.
Between Gloria and Doña, we left each house with each woman’s signature, convinced that Theresa, or Emilia, or Juana, was committed and ready for a 10 am start tomorrow morning. Doña got a little jealous of our documenting everyone else’s contract, so we staged a reenactment of hers.
Today we collected materials at an open-air market called Bisne (pronounced Bees-nay).
On the shopping list: barbed wire, shovels, cobas, rakes.
And some tamales.
All in all, a rugged day. Tomorrow, 10 am is the first training. Megan bets will start by, eh, 11.
