n a rare cool tropical morning, I found myself in the middle of a coconut grove, dwarfed by towering, top-heavy trees. I was waiting for Phiphat Kepsap, a coconut gatherer, half expecting him to arrive in typical farmer’s gear—overalls, perhaps a floppy hat. Instead, he made his entrance on a motorcycle with a sidecar occupied by two monkeys. With an urgency that betrayed the absurdity of the situation, Phiphat hopped off his bike, led one of the monkeys to the base of a tree, and grunted a command. The monkey shimmied up to the top: Work had begun. Within seconds, it was raining coconuts, the bowling-ball-size orbs striking the ground with terrifying yet satisfying thuds.