A Little Weeding
Throughout the past 2 months I’ve acquired another little job. Sr. Jane helps support the convent by selling trees, so she has this rather large tree farm that needs constant care, so she asked me one day if I wanted to help her “pull grass”, or weed her trees. I said “of course” because this would be an opportunity to get my hands in some more dirt. So, when it’s not raining I run into the garden for a few hours and weed these tiny, tiny trees. Most people, Cara included, think I’m crazy to enjoy being hunched over a ton a trees picking weeds for 2 hours, but it’s peaceful and the sisters and the local workers love seeing me in the garden helping. But the work is not always peaceful; I always have company of some sort. First, there is the first plot of trees: each plot has a walk way between them and this particular one is free on one side, but on the other is a bush of prickly branches. So, doing that side of the plot is torture and there is no way around it. I also have the pleasure of numerous biting ant colonies that love to get into my small shoes. I’m tempted to buy the galoshes that everyone wears, but then I’d really look like an African and I would get funny looks for about a month, which is beside the point, but the biggest problem is finding a pair my size, which is only possible in Njombe. There are also lots of big spiders running around and another wonderful bush on one end of the third plot that has thorns larger than a rose bush. This one is also unavoidable if you want to get at all the trees.
It is not the most exciting job in the world, but when I’m out there in my apron (yes, I have an apron that is floor length and goes all around my legs) I really feel like an African and there is nothing I like more than blending into a culture, even though the white skin is a dead give away.
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