A atom fuses to an other-a massive quantity of energy is released. Blinding light, incinerating heat is flung trembling, straining, and exploding into the vacuous universe. A tiny fraction of that light and heat strikes, and enters what is simultaneously an insignificant pale blue dot, and what is the most important place that has ever existed. A small part of that tiny fraction of energy enters the atmosphere and a minuet piece of the small part of that original tiny fraction lands here in El Salvador striking blades of grass in the clay. Triggering the ancient and yet trendy new phenomenon of photosynthesis. A big cow takes a bite and masticates it for minute; hours later-splat! The cow gifts the world a patty.
I had been wondering the streets picking up all the 'freebie' patties and putting them in my neighbor's wheelbarrow in the area around the watering hole with slow progress. Meandering up a short trail toward one of Chepe's pastures when five of the kids from the town (10-16 years old) come bounding up the trail and demanded I take a different side trail. By now I have learned that the locals always know best, so I follow them and within 15 seconds we were in cow pie heaven. Their interrogation of what I was doing with a wheelbarrow full of crap before deciding to help without verbal deliberation was surprisingly brief and non judgmental
“what are you doing with all that poop?”
“This is typical cuisine in America. I'm eating it for diner!” I say with energy to get a reaction. Some of the kids in the street laugh and others make grossed out faces and roll their heads backwards. “No but really I'm collecting food for my worm farm.”
“Really? What do you want to grow worms for?”
“For my chickens to eat. To augment their protein. Worms are pure protein.”
The kids that were helping me collect the manure took control of the wheelbarrow and the responsibility of filling it and I became more of their helper than the other way around (I did manage to hang on to the shovel though). The kids all had two sticks and would pick up the patties and drop them into the wheelbarrow. Once it was full we headed back to my house. Stopping on the short walk back to explain what we were doing twice to people in the street.
The month before I got a handful of worms from the Peace Corps office and placed them into two tomato crates full of manure to reproduce and after a month I was told there would be many more. So I had lined two more tomato crates (wooden boxes) with plastic, and when we got back I started to fill them up half way. I was spilling some of the manure because the shovel was too big or the boxes were to small and one of the older kids Louis said “it would be easier with your hands. Put them in two bags”
I had been wondering the streets picking up all the 'freebie' patties and putting them in my neighbor's wheelbarrow in the area around the watering hole with slow progress. Meandering up a short trail toward one of Chepe's pastures when five of the kids from the town (10-16 years old) come bounding up the trail and demanded I take a different side trail. By now I have learned that the locals always know best, so I follow them and within 15 seconds we were in cow pie heaven. Their interrogation of what I was doing with a wheelbarrow full of crap before deciding to help without verbal deliberation was surprisingly brief and non judgmental
“what are you doing with all that poop?”
“This is typical cuisine in America. I'm eating it for diner!” I say with energy to get a reaction. Some of the kids in the street laugh and others make grossed out faces and roll their heads backwards. “No but really I'm collecting food for my worm farm.”
“Really? What do you want to grow worms for?”
“For my chickens to eat. To augment their protein. Worms are pure protein.”
The kids that were helping me collect the manure took control of the wheelbarrow and the responsibility of filling it and I became more of their helper than the other way around (I did manage to hang on to the shovel though). The kids all had two sticks and would pick up the patties and drop them into the wheelbarrow. Once it was full we headed back to my house. Stopping on the short walk back to explain what we were doing twice to people in the street.
The month before I got a handful of worms from the Peace Corps office and placed them into two tomato crates full of manure to reproduce and after a month I was told there would be many more. So I had lined two more tomato crates (wooden boxes) with plastic, and when we got back I started to fill them up half way. I was spilling some of the manure because the shovel was too big or the boxes were to small and one of the older kids Louis said “it would be easier with your hands. Put them in two bags”
“What?” I say. He points to an empty shopping bag I had on my table and asks for an other I get a bunch I have been saving for no real purpose out and several of the kids make gloves out of them. I follow their lead and soon we are all moving the crap with our makeshift gloves. Once the boxes are half full with the fresh poo I take some handfuls out of the the older boxes, to transfer some worms. I spread out some handfuls of it on the ground to show them the worms. In the manure of the older boxes there was an exciting range of sizes of worms. Little baby worms and full grown fat ones. All were carefully places in their new homes.
NOTE*
All hands were thourghly washed afterwards!
1 comment:
Looks like fun!
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