In a neighbourhood playground, a tent has been set up, the canopy overhead providing shelter from the blistering heat of the day. Under this shade, a long table can be seen, laid out with an array of strange-looking fruits. Each one is unique, and tellingly, most are completely indiscernible to many of the people in attendance.
“Mak, what is this?” asks a young child, pointing at a gnarled brown husk. His mother looks on, equally perplexed. “Erm, I don’t know,” she finally admits.
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