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August 25, 2003


Today I had the greatest pineapple of my life.

I was at the border at Honduras.

Under a tree in front of the immigration department, which was nothing but a tumble-down wooden house with its blue paint peeling off, was a man with a sack of pineapples.

He was taking them out of the sack one by one, turning the fruit in his left hand and using his right to hack off the skin with his wood-handled knife. He did it very quickly, tidying up the ends of the pineapple before slicing it lengthways in both directions, as you might a lemon, leaving it attached at the base.

I shared mine with my traveling companion as we waited for everyone to get back on the bus bound for Copan.

When we each pulled a wedge away from the stem, there was such a spurt of juice that we laughed. But when Julia and I took a bite, we were covered in it. The fruit was so sweet and so delicious, we couldn't believe it. We were very happy to be in Honduras, eating such a pineapple, and the men by the side of the road laughed at us before letting us wash our hands in their water.

Posted by Sarah on August 25, 2003 06:59 PM
Category: Eating and Drinking, Honduras

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