ABSTRACT
As we sat on the hay wagon, with our lunch spread out before us, Irena proposed a Mexican toast: “Arriba, abajo, afuera, adentro! . . .” She moved her cup of cranberry juice to mimic the words “Up, down, outside, inside” as we swallowed the juice, and learned four words of Spanish at the same time. Irena, a Mexican farmworker, has learned a bit of English over the eleven years she has been coming to southern Ontario to pick vegetables from June to October. But not enough to really converse with Marissa, the Loblaws’ cashier, who had brought her two daughters along for a visit to the farm. So we exchanged a few words of Spanish and English as we exchanged our mixed spread of Mexican and Canadian food, an array revealing various cultural histories and fusions, from the President’s Choice dips and cheeses that we brought along to almond chicken and rice made by Irena the night before after twelve hours of working in the fi elds.
