I have discovered that rambutan-picking is really not as easy as it looks - the trees are always so very tall and the bunches of fruit always seem to be dangling playfully just out of reach, even when the galah comes into the picture. I've always loved rambutans - to me, they are the lychee and longan's wealthier, chauffeur-driven-in-Rolls-Royce-limos cousins. Sweet, juicy, and each one with its own distinctive taste - they are definitely worth staying out in the sun, fighting against mosquitos for. With that said, I'm probably extremely biased, having had the privilege of digging into just-off-the-tree rambutans all my life. We always knew when rambutan season had come - bags of the bright red, or yellow fruits would be piled near our back door, sometimes still warm from the journey from the family home in Kemaman.
The galah, the weapon of choice for us vertically challenged ones proved to be pretty tricky to handle. First, there's the problem of trying to keep your balance while making sure that you don't accidentally hit anyone on the head. As soon as you think you're good to go, you'll find that aiming for the tiny branch with the gorgeous fruits hanging from it isn't as easy as you thought it would be. Needless to say, there was plenty of giggling as we tried to take direction from our father, the veteran rambutan-picker.
While we couldn't always get our rambutans down in a pretty bunch (quite a few of our tries ended up in us getting caught in a downpour of rambutans!), every fruit was just as sweet, and worth all the effort.