Papayas, mangos, cherimoyas, passion fruits are arranged in woven baskets. Lima’s sweat glistens in the corner of her eyes. A headscarf protects her scalp from where the basket sits, and her left hand holds the rim. The sweet aroma of fruits bombards the air, as Lima follows the long line of women in front of her heading to the street market from their village in the mountains.

Grace, the first woman leads the line with a call and response song. She also watches where she places her feet, avoiding small stones and rocks, and all of the women follow her body’s motion. The women cross a stream bare feet, Lima holds her sandals in her free hand. She’s the youngest fruit bearer learning to balance a wide purple and white basket on her head, and singing along. Bellies growl with hunger. They take rest under tall coconut trees.

After some time of eating young fleshy coconuts, they wipe their faces with a handkerchief, sit their baskets on their headscarves and continue on their journey. Lima is pleased she has arrived to the street market with her basket full of fruits. The women are happy that their journey went well. They sprinkle some seeds of gratitude on the ground.