‘The usual by-passer is a woman sauntering slowly down the road with bundles upon bundles balanced on her head. These woman are pillars of wonder, defying gravity while wearing the ho-hum aspect of perfect tedium. They can sit, stand, talk, shake a stick at a drunk man, reach around their backs to fetch forth a baby to nurse, all without dropping their piled-high bundles upon bundles. They are like ballet dancers entirely unaware they are on stage. I cannot take my eyes from them.’
I am currently reading The Poisonwood Bible, and this quote describes far better than I ever could the way I felt every time I saw the Mayans in Guatemala walking down the street balancing all kinds of crazy things on their heads. I really do miss it.