How you ever stepped outside of your comfort zone to be a friend? One day in the Maquiritare village of Parupa I did just that. The women of the village invited me to go "worm collecting." That doesn't sound too bad, right? With the mud squishing up between my toes and my fingers digging deep into the mud along the riverbank, I felt like a kid again. I had decided if I was going worm collecting then I would collect a lot of worms!
Hours later we were back in the dugout canoe slowly motoring back to the village. We had our worms, but the work wasn't over. The women were rinsing their buckets of worms over and over again. I set myself to the task, rinsing my worms over and over again.
You might be wondering why they would bother to rinse worms that were going to be used for bait. The truth of the matter was, these worms weren't intended for bait. Some would be boiled, while others would be slowly smoked into jerky. This was supper we'd gone digging for!
I had known the intent, though didn't bother dwelling on it. My stomach did much better without envisioning these slimy creatures getting stuck half way down my throat. Anyways, I had my escape route all planned. Each women would take her private stash of worms home at the end of the day. My goal was to not take my private stash home but to stop by the house of one of the little old gramma's in the village on my way home and bless her with a wonderful bucketful of worms! And this was one of those times my escape route actually worked!
Hours later we were back in the dugout canoe slowly motoring back to the village. We had our worms, but the work wasn't over. The women were rinsing their buckets of worms over and over again. I set myself to the task, rinsing my worms over and over again.
You might be wondering why they would bother to rinse worms that were going to be used for bait. The truth of the matter was, these worms weren't intended for bait. Some would be boiled, while others would be slowly smoked into jerky. This was supper we'd gone digging for!
I had known the intent, though didn't bother dwelling on it. My stomach did much better without envisioning these slimy creatures getting stuck half way down my throat. Anyways, I had my escape route all planned. Each women would take her private stash of worms home at the end of the day. My goal was to not take my private stash home but to stop by the house of one of the little old gramma's in the village on my way home and bless her with a wonderful bucketful of worms! And this was one of those times my escape route actually worked!
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