Breaking a Vow

Somewhere about five years ago, I decided that I would never smoke anything ever again. I was never a smoker and in fact found (still find) the habit a bit disgusting. I always joked you get stained hands, stained teeth, smelly clothes and then for the whopper, lung cancer. I have to admit I have had a cigarette or two. I will chalk it up (much like the high schoolers) as trying to be cool and a bit of peer pressure. Ugh. You would think I would be over all that. Anyway...

I decided I would never smoke anything again. I have stuck to it. Religiously, even. Even mocking those that have and do smoke. I guess all promises were made to be broken. Today was the day for me.

As you know I have been staying with a current student who´s father is a successful business man here in Nicaragua, and one of his businesses is tobacco. Not only does he grow it, he dries it, and then makes cigars! Having been a former tobacco picker myself, I was kind of excited to see where the tobacco goes after it is picked. (Point of Information: Tobacco grown in CT is known as CT tobacco (go figure) and is used solely for the wrapping of cigars, not the insdes.) All I can say is what a process. The conventional wisdom is that 300 hands touch every cigar that is smoked in the US and after today, I believe it. The leaves are dried, then they are left in humid conditions to ferment. This heat/energy as well as color change and flavor/odor. Clearly a chemical reaction is taking place. The drying leaves, in huge piles in a warehouse, have to be rotated so that they doo not get to hot, the temperature is taken and recorded, etc. They are kept moist and pliable, they are deveined. They are rolled and pressed, and rolled again, and kept moist. This can take up to a copule of years. Even the little paper rings on the end of the cigar are placed there by hand. Not to mention the poor women who was cutting out labels all day. Much of this work seemed like it would be fun for the Amazing Race (or for an hour) and then, a bit of fatigue!

Needless to say many of the cigar men were Cubans. I met tons of people. I wish I knew a bit more Spanish. What was amazing though is I was taught to taste the different flavors in different cigars. These men would pull leaves, and roll a cigar right there, and we would smoke it. I learned smooth vs strong vs not-yet-ready. It was pretty amazing. At every stop we would be having at least one if not three cigars. It was a great day, and one I am not soon to forget. I guess some vows were made be broken.