Along the snarling mountain roads of Anxi County, pumpkins, gourds, squashes and marrows grew haphazardly; tumbling from shed tops, gnarled against the earth, and creeping, clinging on, peeking out from under the damp growth, as we climbed higher.
Coming to an shabby tea cabin, we stopped to sit awhile and tear open pomelo with our hands, biting into the yielding fruit, chewing quietly as we gazed over miles of plantation.
'MayI have some tea, please?' I gestured to the old man, whose teeth were shining silver, and held together with wire. Disappearing for a while, we didn't see him until we stepped inside to find out what he was up to all that time.
The smell of wood-smoke hit me. Of course, there was no electricity at these heights and so he had dutifully built a small fire from scratch and was heating the water through. Looking hazily about the room, my eyes came to rest on long shelves filled with rows of dusty squash.
'I bet they taste delicious.' I thought.
