Page 170 - Dark Matter Women Witnessing

Sumiko didn't feel like a sex symbol. She strained under the weight of barrels full of

squirming snails, hustling them to the co-op for weighing. She bent double under piles

of seaweed she bore on her back from boat to shore. She helped her father drag in the

great prawn-fishing nets, which the ama had to clean, picking out dead fish and

garbage. Everyone threw their weight against the boats’, heaving them onto the beach,

hauling them into the hills out of the weather, dragging them back down again in the

morning. When all ocean-work was done, there was still the house to clean, vegetables

to tend. And Sumiko could not complain, couldn't carry less than the maximum that she

could manage, fail to take risks in the water, seem to tire easily, come up to breathe too

often, surface empty-handed. Fishermen and other ama would publicly remark upon

that kind of thing. And yet, her mother said:

The most important thing to do in diving is relax!