Mango season feels more like open season....but on humans. The heavily laden trees sag under the weight of hundreds of ripe mangoes which at any moment break off their homey branch and hurtle towards earth with terrifying speed, the unsuspecting humans dodging and jumping as mangoes fly by - a near miss from a good thump in the head. And while there is some thrill when your path takes you under a tree, and you look up into the ammo laden branches hoping you don't get nailed, the true terror of the falling mangoes is the constant barrage on the many tin roofs around the compound sounding like rapid fire gunshots and tiny bombs - which in a fragile, rebel ridden South Sudan can cause some heart pounding moments. "Was that a falling fruit snack or the start of a hostile takeover?" There has been no shortage of scenes where I have ducked for cover in my house when out of nowhere a mango slams into our metal roof and Lewis and I jump out our of skin. It adds a certain level of excitement to the day.
But there are at least seven gorgeous mangoes sitting on my kitchen table ready to be eaten - so I can't complain too much about warfare *ahem* mango season :)