The bullocks knew Guru very well but I was a stranger so Guru made me keep shouting cries of "heeree heeree" which is how they get the animals to move-so that they would at least begin to recognise my voice. Although I went ploughing with Guru for several days in a row, he never let me plough on my own because getting the right balance was still very difficult for me and if any of the bullocks got hurt due to my inexperience he would have to give the animal at least 15 days' rest which would cost him heavily in earnings. After the ploughing is done the ground has to be levelled for seeding. This is also done by the bullocks who drag a wooden piece shaped like a broad fork across the field. This I was allowed to do on my own and I enjoyed it thoroughly. It was like having a nice ride, standing on the wooden leveller while the bullocks went up and down the field. I also tried my hand at spraying seeds and later fertilizer, on the fields. Sometimes I did a bit of weeding, to while away the time in-between ploughing. On some days when we were ploughing it used to rain heavily and I enjoyed working in the rain with all the other farmers. After ploughing we would be treated to hot tea and bread or pao baji by the owner of the field. I recall how surprised the owners of the fields we had ploughed would be on seeing me sitting with the other workers-dirty with mud like them-because naturally, they recognised me, since I am from the same village. One lady, in fact, thought I was playing truant. She told me she was going to inform my mother where I was that Sunday morning. She thought that I ought to have been in church attending Mass instead. The field work was a good experience and one which I cherish. I helped Guru plough about half a dozen fields and even now when the rainy season approaches I remember that experience with warmth and pleasure. Chapter 3: Plant Festivals The rainy season brings out the average Goan's passion ate love for plants and some of this fervour and enthusiasm finds its way into plant exhibitions and plant festivals. I would like to recount my experiences with two of them-at Saligao and at Siolim-two villages close to where I live. At the first I was a mere spectator but played a more active role in the second. Saligao Sunday, the 1st of July, was an unusually bright day for the normally dull, wet, cloudy rainy season. I was looking forward to going to Saligao to see an exhibition of plants and was glad for the dry weather as I pedalled the 20 minutes it took to reach Lourdes Convent, the well known school in the village where the exhibition was being held. I reached around 10.30 in the morning. The exhibition had already been inaugurated and the place was crowded with people all trying to enter the main hall where the exhibits were kept. I too did likewise.