the Amazon, Part 1

I am now on my way down the Napo River to the Amazon and Iquitos, the largest city in the world that is inaccessible by road, located in the heart of the Peruvian Amazon. Once again, I was pleasantly but truly surprised at the way things turned out. I met Phil (a friend from La Hesperia who’s also traveling South America for a year so we decided to do part of our journey together) in Coca, a small town at the edge of the Amazon and the next morning, at 7:00, we boarded a large motorized canoe, together with some 50 or 60 other people, bags of rice, generators, baskets of fruits and boxes of chicks. Then, for 12 hours, we floated down the river towards Nueva Rocafuerte, the last town before the border with Peru. It was a wonderful ride. Much of it was passed in silence, watching the water and the jungle go by, with only an occasional, “wow! Look at that huge tree!” or “Did you see that butterfly? It just passed us! That must be a blow to the captain’s ego.” I started talking to a nun named Edith, who is twenty years old and grew up in Iquitos. First she entertained me with adventure stories of growing up on the doorstep of the jungle (and the dangers of man-eating wild pigs and electric eels), then we started talking about her religion and where she was going. She’s one of the “children of Israel”, which is a tiny Peruvian-based Christian sect based firmly in the Ten Commandments. She very nicely gave me a little booklet of the Ten Commandments and some psalms, and then invited Phil and me to join her and her sisters (as in, fellow nuns) at their mission about twenty minutes farther down the river from Nueva Rocafuerte for the weekend. We agreed, excited to get a taste of their life, and so the next morning, after a night in Nueva Rocafuerte, we set off.
We docked at a cluster of houses – I can’t really call it a town – and helped the sisters move their baggage into their stilted house. Then we spent most of the morning clearing land for a new church. It was a huge swath – two hectares by the end - because they said that this was going to be a huge town, as everyone who believed in the second coming of Jesus Christ and wanted to be saved would come here to join the community. Don’t worry, it wasn’t rainforest, it was old corn and rice and bushes, so we didn’t feel bad macheteing it.
We were done by lunch time – and good thing too, a month of no work meant huge blisters when I took up the machete again – and so we spent the afternoon talking and chewing on sugarcane. At 6, their Sabbath started, so we were invited to join them in the church. In general, it was a relatively normal church service, hymns, the Lord’s Prayer, a sermon with lots of references to biblical passages, etc. but there were a couple key differences. Firstly, they didn’t have a cross – they believed that it counted as a ‘false idol’ according to the 10 Commandments so instead they had a banner listing the Commandments and their derivations in the Bible – and they segregated men and women on different sides of the church so one side was filled with brightly colored veils and long skirts and the other filled with long unbound hair and beards. I was told the biblical references for those mandates, but I can’t remember them now. What struck me though, was the length – the service was 2.5 hours long, and it was the first of seven on the Sabbath – 6 and 11 pm, then 4, 7 and 11 am, then again at 2 and 5 pm. So we were woken up by a ringing bell at 11 and 4 and 6:30, though we managed to get out of attending all the services and instead spent the day relaxing by the riverside and exploring the jungle.
Phil made friends with one of the local kids and he showed us along a path in the jungle, pointing out orchids and bullet ants (So named for the amount of pain inflicted by one of their bites). It was just as interesting as any jungle tour, and free!
We attended their evening service and I played my violin along with their hymns (which were very repetitive so it was easy to learn). After dinner we sat in the house, listening to the rain fill the water barrels, and talking about religion. Don’t worry, I’m not going to turn Israelita (as they call themselves) but it was definitely interesting to hear their point of view on biblical and cultural and historical issues.

The next day we went back to Nueva Rocafuerte to get our exit stamps from Ecuador and provisions for the boat, and then were off back down the river to Peru. We’re now hanging out in Pantoja, the Peruvian border town, and the most idyllic place I have seen in a long while. They have sidewalks instead of streets (who needs cars?) which are lined with fruit trees, and palm frond-thatched houses with little grills out back to cook their food over open fires. They have electricity from 6-11 every evening, which very conveniently forces everyone out into the streets to socialize in the afternoon, since there’s nothing you can do inside and people sit by the river and talk or play games or exchange songs on the guitar.
There are quite a few other tourists here. Joining Phil and me on the boat will be an Argentinean couple, a Dutch couple, and a crazy Chilean graffiti artist. In the 3 days we’ve been here we’ve had great fun hanging out, especially with the “Suiso Loco” – the Swiss guy who is paddling down the Amazon to the Atlantic in his Biciboat – a paddle-house boat powered by his trusty bicycle. He’s been traveling for 5 years now, biking through the Middle East, guiding tours in Africa, and finally biking around the southern half of South America to get to Ecuador and start his Amazon journey. If you want to know more about his trip (vastly longer and more interesting than mine, i'm sure) he's at www.hervepuravida.com

Tomorrow morning we sail for Iquitos, 5 days of swinging in a hammock, talking to my fellow travelers, playing cards, and keeping an eye out for parrots and river dolphins.
But I'll tell more about that after I do it.

The Permaculture Workshop

16-11-09
My time in Pucara didn’t go exactly as planned. I started off teaching in the school, but didn’t like it. First of all, they didn’t need me. They had two teachers (for around 30 kids, aged 6-13) as well as a music, art, and gym teacher who came in once a week for specific classes, and another volunteer who had been there since June teaching English and helping with classes. I was utterly useless. Moreover, the week I started was the week of their exams, so I spent 5 days standing around watching the children cheat on their tests. The next two weeks were vacation, and I was out of a job.

Fortunately, I met Peter, an ex-Vermonter who has been living here for 11 years working with the people of Pucará and other villages on sustainable development projects through his NGO and, as if in answer to my prayers, he invited me to join a permaculture workshop he had organized. It was perfect. The workshop was three days per week for three weeks, taught by a Guatemalan permaculture expert and attended by Ecuadorian organic farmers who wanted to know more about this permaculture thing. (Permaculture, if you don't know yourself, is basically sustainable organic agriculture, working with and from nature, instead of against it). I had so much fun, and learned so much.

For example: the “border effect” is really useful – if, instead of thinking of a border as dividing, you think of it as uniting two different areas, you can take advantage of the diversity created there (i.e. at the foot of a mountain, you find mountain birds, valley birds, and some birds that only live in that niche). So when planning a garden, make as many borders as possible – canals, paths, etc. – and make them as curvy as possible: when have you ever seen a straight line in nature? That also uses space better- you can plant more carrots in a wavy line than a straight one. And the more carrots, the better.

Or: agriculture should work in harmony with the lunar cycle. When the moon is waxing, energy and fluids in plants move upwards, while when it wanes, the energy sinks. So always plant seeds with the waxing moon – so it will create shoots – but transplant with the waning moon – so it develops roots.

Or: many times you can get nature to do your work for you. E.g. if you have chickens (and everyone here does) put them in an empty vegetable bed and they will clean it of seeds and insects while tilling the soil and fertilizing it with their nutrient-filled manure, and - voilá! You can plant in it again without having to do any of that yourself.

I don’t know about you, but I found it fascinating. We generally spent our mornings learning the theory behind permaculture, its principles and methods, and the afternoons putting them into practice: like making a circle of banana trees around a hole filled with branches and leaves to filter and use the “gray water” from the laundry/kitchen areas – every year you get a meter and a half of good compost, 21 bunches of bananas, and someplace to drain your dishwater. We also made ditches in the hill to collect rainwater and direct it into the soil, mandala gardens, and a seeding area. It was great fun.

The only problem was that many of the things I learned – like how to make a sustainable coffee forest with bananas and citrus trees to give shade – aren’t really applicable to Vermont. I was suddenly faced with how very unsustainable our life in New England is; everything we eat, even in the summer, is transported from California or farther. And even if we turn the field behind our house into a fully functional, diversified permaculture garden and canned and stored everything, we could still only produce a fraction of what we consume in a year. It almost makes one want to up and move down to the tropics where you can plant a lemon tree outside your kitchen window and never more have to worry about zest. Sure, these people don’t even have a word for “sledding”, but they’re a heck of a lot closer to sustainability than we will ever be. And they have really good fruit.  (Tangent alert!) My two favorite fruits right now are Guavas – like a huge (2 ft long) bean pod filled with shiny black seeds covered in a layer of soft white fuzz, you eat the fuzz and spit the seeds on the ground, hoping to plant a new tree – and Grenedillas – perhaps so named because they look like grenades, they’re a yellow fruit that has a hard shell you crack open to reveal hundreds of small seeds covered in clear, sweet pouches of juice, sort of like a pomegranate but better – I’m going to miss them when I leave here.

Oh, by the way, my plans have changed and I’m now not going to Colombia but straight to the Amazon and on into Peru, so if you never hear from me again, I was probably eaten by an anaconda or a jaguar or a school of piranhas or any of the other amazingly lethal things they have in the jungle. It’s going to be so exciting, hooray! :D