Roadkill Mango
Linda and I spent one month in Hawaii during the summer of 2009 visiting friends who oversaw a raw-food commune on the Big Island. Linda taught yoga at the center and I served as a consultant for a small Unitarian group on the island. We also worked-off our room and board at the commune tending gardens, bushwhacking (I’d never used a machete before) and basic jungle-lifestyle chores. I was also in search of the perfect Hawaiian coffee bean for personal enjoyment as well as a potential bean to carry at the cafe the Unitarian Society was hoping to open back in Houlton. Here is a poem that came from the great coffee bean search.
Roadkill Mango In search of the perfect coffee bean our travels have led us to the Kona side of the Big Island where caffeine and surf boards are day-long companions and one never tires of paradise. The well-marketed Kona bean is held in high regard by coffee drinkers in Denver and Holland alike; a full smooth flavor with a touch of citrus and nut not too acidic floral and caramel aromas. We are on the road early driving up and down this two mile by fifteen mile corridor of subtropical valley the ideal environment for developing a top-notch coffee product. Jim and I are approaching this venture like a fine wine tasting tour in the Napa Valley; aficionados of endless variation and free samples a sideways approach to the dark bean and its seductive pull the sensations of stimulant the smooth motion of black Hawaiian liquid as you slowly and mindfully sip. We turn onto Painted Church Road a slim strip of curving blacktop side-lined with lush tropic green and we wind our way toward our first stop with vast pacific in view… suddenly, Jim straddles something in the road and slams on the brakes coming to a complete stop, “Mango!” Yes indeed, a perfectly ripened mango laying calmly in the morning sun on an American highway. I jump out and retrieve our find from the “roadway market” along with a few extra mangoes in the ditch and get back into the car ready to continue our journey. For a moment just a moment I wasn’t thinking about coffee; the pacific still remained vast the surf still pounded the shore the Kona bean was still waiting for us just down the road but right now right now fresh fruit in the hand quick-picked and at an affordable price. for “Jungle Jim” Vashro “Where the mango hits the road...”