In the past few days, I’ve changed jobs. I’m no longer working with lemons. No more long days jerking buckets full of lemons around, no more thorns, no more siestas on the hard ground. Now, I’m working with damascos (apricots) and, next week, we’re supposed to start working with duranos (peaches). In general, this job is a lot easier, although it requires more skill and attention from the workers. Right now, the damascos are small and green, about the size of a mature almendra (almond). And the duranos, well, they’re only about the size of a fingernail (even smaller). But already in the past three days, I’ve seen them grow, in some cases, doubling in size. Obviously, this isn’t the season for picking either (and for this, we don’t have to work on Saturdays, which is a plus). Rather, the job is this: on each branch of the plant, there are many, many small fruits, clustered together, which, if all allowed to mature, would interfere with each other, and result in lower quality fruit. Also, I presume, that if the excess fruit is removed, more of the energy of the tree will be diverted into growing the remaining pieces of fruit, also resulting in higher quality. So the job is to remove the excess fruit, all deformed pieces, “gemelos” (literally twins – I don’t know the word in English – but two conjoined pieces of fruit), and those pieces with characteristic red circles, which are signs of a virus.
Damascos are simpler than duranos, I’m told, so the work goes pretty fast. The workers are paid per mata (plant). The price for the damascos is $350 (that’s Chilean pesos, obviously) per plant. That’s about 0.8USD. Because the workers are paid per mata, there has to be someone to oversee, and make sure that quality of the work remains consistent, as there is constantly the temptation to cut corners, to move faster (and sloppier) in order to make more money. That’s my job. I’m a supervisor, un jefe.
And to be honest with you, at first, I hated it.
For me, this is how I saw it. I’m this little gringo upstart, just 18 – that’s younger than anyone else out there – and I don’t speak Spanish well, and here I am telling these people what to do. And, like all of them, I only learned to do the job three days ago too. Furthermore, la pega me caga mal. I mean, picking lemons, that was something I could feel proud of, in a way. I was doing something that had to be done, and doing it the same as any of the others around me. I was no more and no less than any of them. It’s not a good job, and it left me tired as shit every evening, but that’s how it was. Now here I am, with a job I didn’t even ask for, telling people what to do, and getting paid for walking around all day, pointing out people’s errors. Well, to be honest, so one has to do it, has to keep all of it straight and to keep track of all of the numbers. But I don’t like it because I’m a part of a system that I can see is unfair.
At least that was my first impression. Now I’m realizing a few things. Unlike the field over in Ranchillos (with the lemons), the workers here are given more respect. There are toilets, a place to eat with a sunshade, trashcans, signs about the dangers of pesticides and how to protect yourself from them, etc. Still, I’m sure there is a dueño and that he makes a hell of a lot more than any of the peons who man his fields, but I guess he’s not like the filthy rich dueño over at Ranchillos.
And as far as the work goes, it’s nice for me in a lot of ways. Even though it irritates my egalitarian sensibilities, I know I can and will get used to the job. I mean, it’s a job that Marcela needs me to do. Usually her son (the other one, Esteban) does this job, but right now he’s working with his father (actually on the house of the dueño of Ranchillos). And this job doesn’t leave me dead in the evenings (besides, it’s getting to be more work than I thought at first, as more workers arrive). But perhaps the best benefit is that I probably speak more than 5 times as much Spanish in a day than I did at cutting lemons. I’m learning and practicing far more.
This way, furthermore, I’m experiencing all facets of production, and realizing how it feels to be peon, a nobody, but also how it feels to be jefe, and realizing how important it is to do that job with compassion. Even if I don’t like it, I am realizing that this pega too is a valuable experience.
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