Chocó classic, Cocada
He climbed the coconut tree like a kid in North America would climb a giant maple tree. Except he had a machete.
He cut down coconut after coconut for us to drink. I watched and then tried, putting my feet in the grooves squeezing my legs to hold weight. Slowly moving up only about to reach about 2 meters before jumping down. It had to have been 10 meters high.
The sun was setting so we quickly collected palm leaves to create a shield to protect the fire. We’re setting up a kitchen right next to the ocean to make a Chocó classic, Cocada. I can see kids diving off rocks in to the waves. In the pink glow I can only see their silhouettes.
Getting to the meat of the coconut Sal efficiently hacked each cut rotating the machete to open the mesocarp. We then took small pieces and shredded the coconut with both an industrial and homemade grater.
The water, shredded coconut, panela, cinnamon sticks, and lime leaves all went into the pot. The fire started with wood and plastic. I didn’t ask why with the plastic. That’s what they did and it worked. I’m there to experience but really observe. I want to see how people live their lives. The sky was pink. Sun nearly gone but casting a shadow our outdoor kitchen against the palm leave lean-to.
Stirring here and there I asked questions about the recipe and a little about their lives. My Spanish isn’t quite there for deeper questions. But it motivates me. Reminds me why language is so important to how I want to move through the world. I missed the opportunity to get to know someone I really wanted to but continue to pay attention to body language and energy. That’s a whole language in itself when it comes to experiences like this. How do I feel and how do I think they feel? How can we make one another feel cared for without words? I also love this.
After about 30 minutes the shredded coconut takes in the moisture and we are left with a sticky mixture to put on saltine crackers. The group of us huddle around the sweetness and dig in. The Cocada is so sweet I can’t handle much more than a couple crackers.
In the dark we walked on the dirt road back to the hostel. I only had a few days left in Colombia and this is the kind of interaction I came for. It fell short for me though. I wanted more time. I wanted to know more. The next days proved how much I love Colombia, specifically the Chocó area.
