It was my rain boots that saved me, the ones I impulsively
purchased during my first days in Tarapoto, as we sloshed through the mud on
the way to the chacra (field). It was an invitation I wouldn’t pass up.
Everyday our community of Huapo has shut down while people hike into their
chacras to work. This week they have been harvesting almiscla, a seed that is
exported to Europe to make perfumes. Curious about what these Peruvian chacras
were like I jumped on the opportunity to visit with a Señora, her 8 year old
daughter and 2.5 year old son. Not even 5 minutes into our 20-minute hike up I
felt relieved at my boots decision, for a poor choice of direction on this
muddy path put me calf deep in mud. We laughed as Aurora, half my height and
pregnant with her fifth baby and her daughter hoisted this “giant” foreigner out
of the mud. I was not about to leave my boot behind.
As we walked the 8 year old, Rosemary, told me tongue
twisters and asked me riddles, each one impossible for me to figure out with
the local Spanish colloquialisms thrown in. The two and a half year old, Samuel, slowed us up, so I
swung him up on my shoulders and we continued on. Up the mountains, where there
was one of numerous amazing landscapes, down into the valley, trudging through
the rushing river, choosing carefully our footsteps, and over to the other
side, and up into the chacra. Although what surprised me was the chacra was
much more of a forest than the field planted with monocrops that I was
expecting. It was filled with cacao trees, bananas, a tuber crop called dalé
dalé, yucca, medicinal plants, almiscla, and much much more. As we arrived the
rain started falling harder, for despite it being the summer dry season,
climate change has pushed the rainy season later and the Amazon makes it ripe
for rain! Rosemary ran off to find “refresco”, a refreshing drink of fresh
sugar cane juice, sweet enough to feel your teeth rot but just what was needed
after the hike. Aurora went looking for oranges and soon we were refreshed
from our hike up into the chacra.
Unfortunately the rain stopped us from harvesting any
almiscla. We sheltered ourselves below the roof of their no-walled storage
shed, where they keep firewood, tools, crops, and sometimes sleep under. We shared stories, more riddles and
tongue twisters and Rosemary taught me words she is learning in Quechua while I
taught her English. We filled pans with water draining off the roof and Rosemary
and I started a fire to warm us while Aurora rested. As we waited for the
rain to let up we shared plates of rice, beans, and eggs, and shelled beans for
a meal later in the day.
Alas, the rain never let up, and the lateness of the morning
forced the decision for us to begin our hike back to Huapo. On our way down we
stopped at the dalé dalé plant to dig up some food for later. This root crop
required some hefty digging from Aurora and a giant tug from Rosemary and
myself. Once dug up we snapped the vegetable from the plant, a small fingerling
potato looking crop. Perfect roasted in the oven with olive oil and rosemary (the
spice, not the girl). We shook off the plant and Rosemary, crawling in the
dirt, was filthy dirty by the end. When we reached the river Rosemary and I
rinsed off our hands and knees. Samuel, by then, was hoisted upon Rosemary’s
back and we once again carefully chose our steps, and I grateful for my boots.
As we climbed up the other bank I realized that Rosemary was tiring from
carrying Samuel. I offered to carry him and we switched roles. Me, carrying
Samuel on my back, and Rosemary carrying my weightless backpack with the
remaining refresco de caña. Aurora carried her bag filled up with dalé dalé
strung across her forehead and we took our steps carefully through the muddy
path.
While Samuel nodded off on my shoulders I took in, once again, the beautiful landscape and the way the trees grow in the jungle. This time I was careful not to place my foot in any muddy trenches, and I was glad I had on my boots as we walked through rain filled paths. Up and down the rocky hills, around the mountain slopes, we arrived home, with Samuel good and asleep and all of us covered in mud with smiles on our faces.
The view on our walk back, the hills covered in rain clouds.
