Yesterday I found myself in the arms of the Chilean countryside where my father keeps his horses. Recently he started a small business with the kindest soul I know in Chile - Don Patricio Mena. Never have I met a man where words like "salt of the earth" just seem like an insult. Making him something more then he is would be an abuse to his name. Even though he's shy and little quiet, he knows just the right amount of knowledge to have a economical and political discussion on Bolivian energy. While skilled enough with a horse to not even blink if the beast of burden beneath him starts to misbehave.
Yesterday we arrived at the farm a few hours before sunset. I knew that because it was close to 5pm that they were about to feed the little ones. So as soon as I got out of my dad's truck I walked over to help Don Patricio's wife Dorita and the grounds keeper who they call "cabbage" in Spanish - because his head is in the shape of a cabbage - to fill the milk bottles they use to feed the thirty calf they are raising. That is part of my father and Don Patricio's business. Every couple of months they go to the dairy farms in the area and buy up all the baby bulls. Once the bulls are big enough, they herd them to a beautiful plot of land dozens and dozens of hectares large. In this field they have a mix of bulls and cows, so almost ever cow is either pregnant or about to be mounted.
Once we finished milking the calf I got on a horse and with my father and Don Patricio we rode out of town to this plot of land where they kept their herd. Because the sun was close to setting it was time to take all the cows and bulls with their littles ones back to where they sleep and have their morning grass. It is important to account for the entire herd every evening to make sure that none of them wander off into someone else's property.
So there we were, strategically bringing them all into one school. I can't even explain the sensation I felt with my father there on the field doing this work. I felt proud and happy for my him that he had this around him because I know it made him so very happy. Laughing and telling jokes with Don Patricio and the other two huasos who take care of the herd, I was smiling just because he was so smiling. After the count there were two missing.
Racing and walking our horses around the property, searching for a good hour for the animals it was important that we retrieved them before sunset. Near the end of the hour we decided to separate into two groups in order to cover more ground. I went with Don Patricio and the other three went another direction. Just at the end of the line close to the small two lane highway there sat enormous bushels of quinces.
I turn to Don Patricio and ask with surprise "Memebrello?" He nods smiling and I go right for a nice ripe one. Tart and sweet I can't believe what I'm eating. A fruit that costs almost two dollars per unit that the local supermarket in Montreal, I am sitting there on a horse with my favourite Chilean eating this childhood treasure.
The two animals from the cattle went off on their on and found these yummy bushes. The only reason I was able to get any was because they couldn't reach where I could while on my horse. Don Patricio calls my father on his cell phone - which I always find hilarious - to inform him that we found the rest of the cattle. After sending them off back to the herd we make our way to the ranch. Just as we arrive once awaits us. Medium rare steaks, eggs and tomatoes with cooked white onions.
Heaven inside heaven.
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