Yesterday Becky and I started work on the vineyards. It was horrible. First, I didn't hear my alarm go off at 6am, so I got up at 6:30 and rushed to get ready for the pickup at 7. Our roommate, who means well, told us we could catch a ride with him, but miscounted or just ignored the fact that there were 5 of us for his 4 seats, so we ended us sitting on each others laps in the back seat. He needs to learn to say no. Because of his offer for a ride I had called the manager to tell him we didn't need a ride, effectively pissing him off on our first day.

I realized, only after stepping out of the car into the grocery store parking lot where we were apparently to meet the managers from Contra, the contract company we had signed up with, that I was wearing flip flops and had no water. I had remembered, last minute, to slather sunscreen on in the back of the car, elbowing Jeanine, the girl to my right, in the process.

There was no indication of what we should do after arriving, so I went up to one of the many creepy-manned vans and asked if they were with Contra, to which the driver turned to another driver and asked "can we take these nice girls with us?".

Wan Ho pointed out who the boss was and I walked up to him to ask about getting a ride for the rest of the week (our other options being obviously disorganized and somehow more expensive), and he immediately dismissed me before a word left my mouth and told me to go back and wait with the others. I walked away from them, after forcing a conversation and a handshake out of the boss and manager, and went into the store to look for water and maybe some shoes. When I got back Wan Ho said he had found out where we were to work today, so I convinced him to take me back to the hostel to get my shoes. I was lucky he did.

We were assigned to pruning the vines. It was contract work, paying 7 cents per vine. Becky and I did six rows each, making about $82. The only directions we got were "the little ones, see, little, little, little". Everything was covered in green miracle grow, covering my hands in fertilized cuts, and my sandwich could have grown a forest. When I ran out of water the boss took me and Jeanine to a faucet in the middle of the fields, and as I was about to fill my water bottle this guy in a truck pulls up, rolls down his window, and tells me not to drink it. Apparently the boss has been giving fertilized water to all his employees. And his response to the fact that we shouldn't drink it was "you are too sensitive". He later told Becky she had milky skin and asked how many of his men had asked her to marry them. These "men" were real winners.

By the end of the day my legs were sacks of lactic acid and my back was burned. Becky and I haven't bothered going since. I'm impressed by those who can get up at 6 everyday to do this work, but I think we are going to head over to Nelson.