Cow milking. Always wanted to do this, and what a surprise this adventure would take place in Honduras! This happened curtesy of the P.E. teacher, Mr. Augustine, who my teammate Matt worked with at school. We went to his family’s place where they have a farm and a lot of cows, located in the countryside, about 45 minutes outside of Juticalpa.
We brought our tents and a few of the Honduran staff members came along with other volunteer teachers, sans tents. Camp was set up in the milking barn, the only covered area (it was raining much of the night), where we would be milking only a few hours later. The only cover it offered was a roof but that was enough. It was late and we had to be up before the cows started coming in at 5am but a few of us stayed up dancing to the radio in the headlights of the van.
My alarm went off at 4:15, but the cows weren’t scheduled to come until 5 so I tried to sleep in a bit longer. But by 4:30 the thought of a herd of cows hustling into where I lay in my thin, trample-able tent motivated me to get up and packing! The cows came a little later than anticipated but we were ready. They came trickling in a few at a time, and were milked in groups of 6. Not only did they wait patiently, they also had to wait to be milked until called by name. It was the funniest thing to see a cow come out of the herd when one of the men called out “Mariposa!” by name!
We took turns learning to milk, and once I got over thinking I was hurting them, I realized it was probably more annoying to them than painful. It was an amazing to experience that I’m thankful for the opportunity. Another thing that struck me was those sweet pictures of the dainty milk maid. Her pretty, little, clean frock is a bit misleading, as well as her small hands. I think those gals probably had something close to meat hooks for hands, because milking cows is hard work. The repetitive, intense squeezing of udders wasn’t pretty or easy work. A few people got cow poop back splashed on them, the perils of milking! Spoiler alert, there is likely to be pee in the milk bucket if the cow gets the urge while being milked, maybe that’s another reason why we pasteurize milk!
After we’d had enough of milking, we headed back by way of the family homestead for coffee and fresh baked rolls, a real treat! Sitting on their wrap-around porch drinking coffee in the cool of the morning reminded me of fall back home. A sweet memory I will savor long after the Race is over.
