Te gusta habas? Pedro wanted to know. I have no idea what Habas are, much less if I liked them. This wasn't one of those questions that I could bluff my way through - it would be dangerous territory to say I like something and not know what I was signing up for.
Pedro repeated the word, Habas, te gusta Habas? I still didn't know.
With a sigh he trudged back to his house, a one-room dwelling which had originally been a stone-built shepherd’s hut. Had I offended him? Had work ended for the morning? I stood and waited.
After a good few minutes, he trudged back, bless him, he was a bit out of breath. As he got close to me, he asked again - Te gusta habas - and opened his hand out show a little pile of broad beans in the palm of his hand.
Si si si!!!! I practically jumped up and down. Not only do I really love broad beans, especially being a vegetarian, but I now knew the secret meaning of habas. Pedro and I were connected once more. Let the sowing begin.