The hot sun, the pulsating nuclear furnace, blasts heat onto the hills of Nicaragua. The rich, fertile soil. It nourishes the cacao trees, on which the special pods sprout. Later, a fine morning mist refreshes the pods. Later, it's time. "Vamos, hombres!" The men move with delicate, precise force: thrashing the pods from the trees with sharpened machetes. You can hear the glistening machetes swooshing through the air and then slicing the pods and the slight thump as the pods hit the ground. All the pods are collected, and the sun stays but the hills turn their backs.