Mango Tree
May 11, 2025 | Rachel Yu
This tree in the front of the apartment complex that I live in reminds me a bit of the mango trees in Central America.
Central America is full of green mango trees. One of the many delicacies in El Salvador is green mango mixed with salt, lemon juice and chili sauce/powder.
Growing up in the megacity of Hong Kong, picking fruits from trees to eat are taught to be a very dangerous thing to do. Though in other parts of the world it’s common practice. In my first few weeks in El Salvador, some sweet kids would pick mangos from the mango trees and give it to me as a treat. Sometimes we would go out together with a basket to collect mangos.
They taught me so many different ways to pick mangos, and they are masters at it! Sometimes they use little rocks to hit the mangos from high up, sometimes with a stick or a branch.
Over time, I too started growing a liking to picking mangos. I became good at spotting mango trees, and more often than not whenever I see one I could not hold back my urge to savor one.
I remember sitting at the back of my friend’s motorcycle, eyes glued to the side of the road to spot mango trees. Whenever I spotted one, I would tap on his shoulder to ask him to stop, and I would pick a few at each stop. By the time we get back, we would have a dozen green mangos to be the starter of our dinner.
In my first few weeks back in Hong Kong, whenever I walked past trees, my mind still yearned for mangos. As if the urge to identify mango trees had still yet to be tamed. The memory of the tangy sweet-and-sour taste would pop up. Not just in my taste buds, but deep in my heart.
I also began to wonder: How did picking fruits off tress, something so natural, once fundamental and instinctive for human survival throughout generations, become such a taboo in our modern culture? I understand that our bodies have evolved, making some ancestral practices potentially harmful today. But I'm not talking about raw chicken here. I'm simply talking about fruits on trees, the same fruits sold in markets at ridiculous prices.
One of the many recurring thoughts in my brief time in Central America is: It’s fine.
It’s fine to eat mangos from trees.
It’s fine to sit in the back of a truck.
It’s fine to not wear shoes.
It’s fine to pee on grass.
It’s fine.