I love the things that you miss after you leave a place. The things you never knew you were taking note of or studying or loving. I miss the way the Thais cut fruit–with strong, rough hands and gentle, precise motions. I would watch in awe, like I was seeing a masterpiece created before me. A creation of deconstruction–a skill passed down for generations and perfected further with every knife, hand, and fruit. Where I’m from, people have fallen out of touch with this skill and have drifted away from the land, estranged from the source of our food. Thais cradle their fruit like babies, and from them carve meaning and sustenance, for both the body and soul. From small skills and practiced precision, they have confidence, a safety net of knowledge. They will always know one thing for sure.