ON FRUITS AND WRINKLES
By: Iris P. Concepcion

I just had a farm moment with the most beautiful 50 and above woman yesterday.

We picked mangosteens and rambutans from her farm. She never grew tired carrying her blue pails filled with fruits. She advised me to wear boots. She  had likewise taught me fun Thai language that is Bangkok in accent.

I said she could get a lawn mower for the grassy talahibs growing out from her palm oil trees and fruit trees. We were escorted by a Muay Thai boxer whose face was plastered  in a boxing magazine that I had browsed earlier.  This sport is bloody and I told him to teach me how to kick my legs as far as Antarctica. He merely laughed. He brought rakes and other plant implements as if going to the gas chamber. Upon reaching the destination though, he used these to clean the toilets, fix the plumbing systems and yes, we did broom the already tiled floors.

It is still hilly but I had noticed that electricty and water had definitely seeped into the place. It has a mini convenience store precisely to give the rural folks that: convenience. I am living the life of an apple picker in Thailand for one day and this woman showed me how to do it with much elan, grace and succor. She is never selfish with her knowledge. She readily told me the average growth of palm oil. I had reparteed with my own take that perhaps, she could save more if she knows how to grow its seedlings instead of buying them. It makes sense for replanting. I taught her the word "reforestation" and she translated this to our companion. Our talks went from farm prices to seedlings; on how to choose the best fruits and how to get them from trees. You never rake them. One gets stainless stairs and harvest the fruits like climbing the cabinet  when looking for a Gunter Grass book.

I vowed to grow old like her. She knows how to get the proper sizes of clothes. We ate shell innards and fried rice and fish. We both are not hearty eaters; but her coffee is top of the world in an instant brew. She is ludicrously pretty but knows a lot about agriculture. She dug her hands unto the soil. I looked like a turd when I bit my fruits instead of using my hands.

We drank oranges after. Sometimes you encounter people in your life who can educate you about the most simple but finer dimensions of living. My stock knowledge of Thai words are now shortened. They  are pleasant to hear. She had corrected my crude sentences with opening lines that are tongue-manageable.

The roads to farms are well-paved and cemented.

I did not realize the world importance of grass cutter until now. It is similar to a pricey lipstick if you are a farmer.

This woman looks very posh and rich and empowered but she does not squeal when presented with snakes, worms, heat of the sun and some rotten fruits.

I am thankful for an afternoon of discovery about farming.

Who knows, I could be a perfect Muay Thai boxer to fight water pollution.
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(P.S. Note to corn kids: She translated the title of my blog as Khun. You are now officially the Khun Kids. I take delight over the fact that you make stupid videos about your mother. Is Con the new soccer team aside from Manchester United?)