Harvester of Joy

Early October every year brings the closing of the harvest for grapes in the central valley of California. With the end of the harvest comes a celebration of that harvest, a festival to be thankful for another fruitful year and a chance to celebrate the wonder of nature's bounty with close friends and family.

Mesereh: On the surface, a simple transformation of fruit to preserve. Look below the bubbling surface and you'll see the spiritual and emotional connection to land, people, and ancestors. An opportunity to carry out a tradition handed down for generations.

The gist of Mesereh is to harvest grapes - a fruit that eventually spoils - and turn it into molasses - a product that can hold on to the benefits of the fruit for the coming year.

Friday, October 3
8 pm - A pit is dug and a fire is lit at the bottom of said pit. This fire will continue to burn throughout the night with careful tending by the primary orchestrator of the proceedings, Mr. Raffi Santikian. Tomorrow, this pit will serve as a slow-roaster for the various meats that will be served at the party.

9 pm - A flagpole is erected and the American and Armenian flags are proudly hoisted at the entrance to the premises.

For the remainder of the night, the house is abuzz with preparations for the following night.

Saturday, October 4
6 am - A trumpet call awakens the participants from slumber.

6:30 am - The fire in the pit has become embers, but the surrounding earth has absorbed all the heat from the previous night and is set to receive the aluminum containers full of tri-tip steak and turkey for slow-cooking.

7-9 am - A flat-bed truck is loaded with the workers (family and friends) to make the short trip to the adjacent vineyards. The objective is to collect as many bunches of grapes as the grapevines will yield.

9:30 am - Towards the end of the harvesting period, a mini war inevitably breaks out between the workers. Sniper-bullet grapes fly from one end of the field to another. Grape-bunch bombs fly from row to row, finding innocent and combatant targets alike. Heinous run-by-frutings are aimed at unwilling participants. Suddenly, even those who had shied away from getting too dirty find themselves in the crossfire, and few make it back home clean.

10 am - The grapes and workers find themselves back at headquarters. The grapes are unloaded and dumped into an elevated converted bathtub for a prelimenary wash.

10:30am-12 pm - The now washed grapes are removed from the converted bathtub, which becomes the stomping area. Grapes are filled into burlap sacs. After sprinkling lime (The chemical, not the fruti) in with the grapes, the bags are tied off, and placed in the stomping area. The fun begins shortly thereafter. Two members of the crew step in with the grapes and begin stepping on them, literally stomping the juice out of the grapes. The juice flows out of the bags, and down the drain, into a waiting bucket. The process is continued, and often the stomping crew changes shifts to allow all to partake in the fun.

12-3 pm - The resulting liquid is emptied into a large container, where it will remain for a few hours. During this time a fire is lit underneath the juice container and the juice is brought to a simmer. This begins the next stage of purification. The heat will cause the lime to grab any impurities (see feet in paragraph previous) and bring it to the surface. These impurities can easily be skimmed off the surface.

3-4 pm - The juice is pulled off the fire into buckets and allowed to rest, ushering in the final stage of purification. During this time, all remaining impurities settle out to the bottom. The supernatant liquid is then poured back into the container, and the heat is resumed.

Under extreme heat, the water from the grape juice will slowly evaporate, leaving behind the sugar and vitamins of the grape, slowly converting it to molasses. The final indicator that the molasses is ready is a fine foam that appears at the surface of the liquid. As onlookers wait in anticipation with occasional cries of "PRPOOR!", the armenian word for foam, those who preside use a dried, hollowed-out gourd to scoop out the liquid and let it fall back into the container, causing turbulence that hastens the arrival of prpoor. When the prpoor is ready, it is scooped off the surface and served to guests who use a fresh bay leaf to enjoy the decadently sweet foamy treat.

The entire scene is generally filled with singing, dancing, and a drum procession, all meant to celebrate the arrival of prpoor and to rejoice in the year's harvest. It is a surreal experience, when in that moment, one steps back and looks around at the glowing faces. The beat of the drum is in sync with the heartbeat of the ancestors to whom Mesereh was more than just a party, it was a way of life. The dancers, arranged in a line from old to young, reflect the celebrations of old. The voices raised in unison momentarily drown out the ugliness of the world that surrounds the participants. And all that's left, all that matters, is prpoor.