Re-Introductions

For days I have been loitering around in my apartment, thinking about going to the tobacco farm. I had called the farm owner, David Arnold. When I asked him if his workers were here, he said yes. Driving to Southwick from Northampton takes 30 minutes (about) each way. Monday afternoon I drove down to the farm. I went to their main farm, or at least the farm with the business sign. No one was there when I arrived. After a while, one of the farm owners, Fred, drove up with a spray truck, to spray fungacide on the tobacco. He told me the workers were at the other farm. As I watched him drive down the rows of tobacco, I felt the little droplets of fungacide sting my eyes. I drove to the other farm, which is about a mile away. Getting out of my car, I walked to one of the tobacco barns. Instead of seeing the Jamaican workers, I saw shirtless teenage boys, their bronze bodies glistening with sweat. They looked at me, but did not approach. Their only appeared mildly interested, but nothing more. I left confused; promising myself I would visit the camp site, where the men lived, the following evening. The next day, I conjured some excuse for not going, and the same for the following day. What if I went to the camp site and the men weren’t there, but instead there were men I didn’t know? What would I ask? What if they were there, but didn’t recognize me? I needed a formal way to re-introduce myself.