Coconuts
When I lived in India I abominated the taste of coconut milk. My family loved it. I flash back the milk having a sour, unmilky flavor that I just could n’t enjoy. I do n’t know if it's my body’s continual hunt for further liquids( no matter how important I drink I always feel dehydrated!), the taste of commodity different, or just the recently discovered subtle agreeableness that has changed my mind?
Note: Click here and scroll down the page click on generated link for watching.
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To pick a coconut isn't an easy task. The trees are generally 20 – 30 bases altitudinous with the coconuts holding on in grape type bunches all the way at the top. It's part circus trick, part Olympic feat what their selectors negotiate. The job is generally given to a boy aged 13 – 17. Like a corsair climbing into the apparel chasing a hitcher, they put a machete between their teeth, look up at the eventual prize, and half shimmy, half walk over to the fruit. For the five twinkles while he's suspended grandly over, there's a continual rain of heavy green mammoth balls falling each around.
You can see a coconut dealer lady from the other side of a request. She has a large receptacle piled nearly double with basketball sized coconuts and machete at the ready. These aren't the dead brown" coconuts" that’s you get in American supermarkets. Then they're always recently picked in all their giant beautiful green newness. You call her over with a regard, hot over side down waving stir of the right hand, or( depending on where you are) a simple," Ko!"( Come in Kabyé) or," Vien!"( Come in French.) also with your help( ALWAYS help get a receptacle on and off someone’s head) she consummately takes the receptacle off her head and sets it on the ground between you. also comes one of my favorite corridor. She chooses a coconut depending on how much you want to spend 10 cents for a lower one 20 for big. In preparing her wares for request she takes each coconut and consummately hacks off the top third of the hard external green subcaste showing the light brown inner milk vessel. She also takes the coconut in one hand, machete in the other, and ever without mincing her fritters off( I generally count to see if my ladies still have all ten integers.
They always do.), removes in small quick blows the remaining two thirds of green outside. The diced out light brown core, after the mincing, is generally about a third as big as the original fruit( coconuts are fruit right? Or are they nuts?). Eventually she holds the coconut in the left hand and, with the right hand brings the machete consummately down on the top. After three or four nippy chops a nice little quarter sized circle opens up showing the awful awful juice outside. She also hands the vessel to you, you take it, throw your head back( there is an iconic picture reproduced each over Togo that shows a bare breasted, Togolese women, drinking from a coconut on the sand.
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The Link is Generated here click and enjoy. Generated Link ( Witchcraft XII (2002))
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It's this ideal that I strive to recreate with every bought coconut.) and drink the milk in a single go. When you're done, without saying anything, you hand the now empty nut( is it a nut?) back to the lady who takes it again in her left hand, and brings the machete down hard on its side, cracking it open and unyoking it into two halves.
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