"Man's Work".....Revisited

The “field vehicle” rattled upward towards our experimental planting, the roof of the Land Rover rounded with yellow bags of compost and fertilizer. As we passed the city limits, the truck stopped. Our new cargo, a dozen teenage girls chattering and bounding, clambered into the back. Most sported long skirts, patched austerely, and blouses; their hair bundled or covered pragmatically with colorful cloth. 

It is not unusual for the driver to pick up strangers en route.  I figured these girls would be dropped off elsewhere. To my surprise, when we reached the work sight, this team of twittering teens descended and immediately started digging the earth.  With rudimentary tools, their progress was slow. They bent fully at the waist, slamming downward with the hoe, dragging it through the soil and scouring the loosened earth for straggling weeds. To my displeasure, I was not allowed to work. Their unified and admonishing chorus sounded every time I reached to help and served as sufficient dissuasion.  

Excluded from the “women’s work” (for I suppose that is what it must be called), I wandered to the neighbor’s clay-hay home. Sitting upon a hand carved table were blackish honeycomb and Khat (a plant mild stimulant effects). The farmer mumbled “thank-you, thank-you” as he offered me a sticky mass of beeswax. I gladly accepted. On closer inspection, little hexagons of white were interspersed amongst the darkened honey. Slightly flapped but charging onward, I popped the comb, maggots and all, into my mouth. I was unable to taste the extra protein. The Khat, however, tasted quite awful, like chewing a handful of stevia that fully lacks sweetness. The effect of the Khat was not unlike coffee, though I noticed more quickly the boost it gave me.

Boys' best photos

I stood around most of the day taking photos. Periodically, a small boy would carry off my camera, taking off-angled photos of whatever laid before him. The girls were shy and, only after coaxing, would allow a snapshot. The pictures below are more a testament of my insistence than their own willingness to be photographed.

boys' best photos

They worked valiantly all day; strong girls, disposed to work. Together they eked pleasure from toil; their eight hours garnering a meager dollar. When I looked back on my day from the comfort of my room, a curious comparison played in my mind. The faces of these girls presented a distinct image of poverty; one that is cheerful before work, friendly before strangers and resolute in confronting the reality of their paltry wages. My hat’s off to them.