In my town the neighbors are very friendly. They always look for ways to please and serve others. But all that changes when the only mango tree in the village begins its harvest.
The hardest battle begins. The villagers equip themselves with their best instruments: machetes, knives, stones. Some organize themselves to take care that no other neighbor can carry the harvest. Once, one of the neighbors tried to break the barrier put up by another neighbor and it ended very badly. He took a severe beating, but still managed to grab a handle from the blessed bush.
The peaceful appearance of the neighbors changes, they become game animals. The posture of their bodies takes on the forms of a predator, their eyes become inquisitive and they are capable of hurting anyone who approaches them. They lose their reason, as if some evil power dominates them. They don’t sleep, they don’t eat and they only think about taking over the mango harvest.
My grandmother says there’s a curse on that bush. She says that the bush releases an aroma that seduces and brings out the darkest feelings of all the neighbors. She doesn’t even grab those mangoes as a joke, so she prefers to live up on her little hill where the aroma of the mango tree doesn’t reach.
I don’t want any of those mangoes either and I hope the harvest passes so I can go back down and share with my good neighbors.
I don’t want that smell to drive me crazy like they do.