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If you think the Megabus is bad, you should try taking the bus from Oaxaca into Chiapas, south-east Mexico. Twelve hours of trying not to vomit in the blistering oppressive heat. When the shaking and rolling finally stopped, I staggered away from the road and lay in the undergrowth for a while, enjoying the stillness.According to the map I still had to trek down into the valley where I would be met by my hosts, so I shouldered my rucksack and started off down the rocky path. The landscape was incredible, tropical forest covering the hills like green clouds. I hadn’t gone too far when I came across a wooden sign nailed to a tree, with the word “Xtilala” daubed in black paint, and an arrow pointing down the hill.I followed the path and soon found myself approaching a wooden shack, with a group of people milling around outside, laughing and smoking. They all looked about my age, and all wore cut-offs and loose shirts, some with wide-brimmed hats to help fend off the uncompromising Mexican sun. There were some white guys with dreads, a Chicana with cornrows, a few people who looked like they çankaya escort were probably of Scandinavian origin, and some American girls. The loudest of them all was a stocky guy with a baseball cap and skin the colour of roasted coffee beans. *”Ay, chica,” he called out “You starting today, no?” I nodded and unshouldered my pack. “You should go see Maruja, she show you where you can dump your gear.””Gracias,” I replied, smiling gratefully. “Where can I find her?”He inclined his head to indicate the direction I should head in, and I picked up my pack again, suddenly feeling full of beans and much recovered from my hellish journey.I started out through the trees and he called after me, “And after that come and see me, no?” resulting in a burst of laughter from the guys and snorts of derision from the women present.I looked over my shoulder to see the Chicana give him a shove. “Ay, Pepe,” she chided him, “you need to show some respect.”The banter of the group faded away as I approached the hut he had pointed out. I pushed open the door, to find nothing inside, rus escort save for a few open sacks of raw coffee beans stacked underneath a wooden work surface. I turned around and went to go look around the coffee fields, to see if I might find this Maruja lady there.They stretched out for acres and acres, coffee plants as far as the horizon, but no sign of life. It was approaching the hottest part of the day, so I wasn’t too surprised. I started thinking maybe a siesta wouldn’t be a bad idea and headed towards a shady looking grove to lie down for a bit. As soon as I entered the shade, I noticed that there was someone there, squatting behind a tree. She had darker skin than the others I had met, and long braids tied back. An Indigena, probably of Mayan descent.”Oh, I’m sorry,” I exclaimed, embarrassed.She didn’t move a muscle, she just fixed her gaze on me, smiling slightly, and continued emptying her bladder. “You must be the new WWOOFer,” she said.”Uh, yeah,” I stammered, not knowing where to look.She stood up, buttoning her shorts. “It’s good to give a gift eryaman escort of your water to the trees. I’m Maruja.” She cast her eyes up and down my body, appraising me. “Hmmm,” she murmured, gripping my upper arm. “Fuerte, no?””Si,” I managed to say.She laughed at my discomfort, “You are not one for words, eh chica? No te preocupes, there’s plenty needs done here, and we have more need of strong fingers than a quick tongue.” She said this with a grin, and I couldn’t keep from blushing. I knew then that I’d given her all the info she needed.She walked off in the direction of the fields, indicating for me to follow. “Venga, I’ll show you where you can dump your pack and after siesta, we can get you started in the fields.”*We worked long into the evening harvesting the “cherries” from the coffee plants, a job still, in this mechanised age, I was told, best done by hand. I had imagined coffee plants to look like bush beans, but they were like little trees with bright red berries. Once the pulp is removed, one of the American girls explained to me, you are left with the raw beans. The de-pulping is typically done on the farm, but as Xtilala is part of a cooperative, they take it to the local mill where there is more efficient machinery.I made friends with the other WWOOFers, and even Pepe turned out to be an okay guy, once I’d told him I wasn’t into dudes.