I finally got my hands on some mangoes, and I must admit that Indian mangoes are all that they’re made out to be. Despite the lack of traveling around the country that I’ve done, I feel like my experience here is complete now that I’ve tasted the sweet orange flesh. This past weekend, two of my friends went to Bangalore, and one of my friends went home a few hours from here, and both groups returned with bags full of mangoes for me. All told, I had between 15-20 mangoes, and only three days to consume them! I have three different varieties, but truthfully, I can’t distinguish between the degrees of deliciousness. I’ve been sharing the fruits, especially when the cooks are in the kitchen when I pull a mango out of the fridge, but I’ve made a pretty big dent myself, as well. There were times in the past few months when I was cursing the seasonal agriculture market here (can’t you bring me some Indian mangoes from Mexico or something?) but after taking the first bite of a perfectly ripe mango, it was all worth it.
As I told Josh on the phone, there are no words for this fruit, only tastes. I wish I could bring back suitcases full of them to share with all of you, but I’m thinking they probably wouldn’t make it past the dogs in American customs. If I wasn’t bringing home so many fun and colorful new clothes, I think I’d give it a try anyway.
As I write this I have only a few hours left here in Sittilingi, before a car comes to take me to Bangalore. I still have some packing to do, more pictures to take (of course), and lots of goodbyes, so I’ll leave it at that. Next update from Bangalore? London? Boston?
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