One of the older men grabbed my hand and led me over to one of the huts, with the gathering close behind.  The roof was way too low for me to step in, so hunched over, I followed him in.  Inside the hut all that was there was a bed of leaves partially covered by an old thin cloth, another pile of large leaves, and a ring of rocks surrounding a pile of burnt ashes.  Nothing else.  Other than the roof over his head, it reminded me of my home last night.  We both sat down on the pile of leaves saying nothing.

Grabbing a stick he stirred through the pile of ashes until the stick struck something solid.  Smiling, he reached in and pulled out a black, sooty ball and handed it to me.  I dropped it immediately, it was hot!  Picking it up he tried to hand it to me, but it was too hot to handle, though his calloused hands had no problem holding it.  I had no idea as to what it was , or what I was to do with it.  Cracking it hard against a rock several times, it broke into several chunks.

The inside was white, similar to dried coconut, but much harder.  He started gnawing on it and handed me a chunk to do the same.  It was as hard as a jaw breaker and tasted like a brown paper bag.  He smiled as if to say, "see, its good!"  I could only smile back, disappointed in the outcome, but laughing inside.  Stirring through the ashes out popped two more black rocks and he handed them to me. 

Outside the hut everyone seemed really pleased, so I took a couple photographs, packed away the camera and my roasted rock roots and bid them all farewell.  The children ran behind me for a ways down the trail shouting "goodbye", the only word that we all seemed to understand.