Navigating the jungle

If I had any foresite as to what I was getting myself into the afternoon that I went in search of some friends and a waterfall in the jungle I might have chosen different clothes to wear and a different path to take. It all began with a great idea to go swimming in the waterfall to cool down after another hot jungle day. I donned on my bikini, shorts, a tank top, and rain boots and my partner in adventure had on just her swimsuit, a dress, and crocs. We set out down the path with instructions as to how to find our friends, who had set out just 20 minutes before us with a local family. Needless to say, the instructions we had were limited and my knowledge of the paths in that jungle were nothing like the jungle kids that had taken my friends to the waterfall.

We came across a path that led down the mountainside to the river. This felt like a good first step. The instructions were to walk up the river until we got to the waterfall. But as we walked up the river the rocks we were crawling over were getting bigger. So we turned the other direction thinking for sure that we had gone too far up the path. After walking down the river a bit I was sure that we weren’t going to find the waterfall and my goal became simply to find a path that would get us back to our little community of Huapo. We continued on, determined not to return up the path we had found, and no longer sure if I could find it again.

But as we continued down the river the rocks got even bigger and the rapids even faster. I then made probably the worst decision of the day. I decided to scramble up the riverbank to the top, thinking I would find a path on the other side of the steep mountain bank. One can only imagine what type of small mountain bank this was. Covered in trees, weeds, and vines, it was an overgrown forest that was not meant for humans to pass through. We climbed, grabbing onto roots and trying to avoid the spiny vines that were quickly scraping up my bare arms and legs. As we got higher I started to see a clearing, and was hopeful that this would mean we were close to our goal.

Unfortunately this wasn’t the case. The clearing was filled with an overgrown field of weeds. Its not just any weed though. It is the fern like week that quickly springs up and grows tall. I would move to one part of the field hoping I would see over the weeds and find a path, only to be just as high to my ears in the weeds as where I had come from. I could at least see a forest at the bottom of the hill but at this point I didn’t know if the forest would just lead us to more confusion.

It was at this point that I had to admit that we were lost and I was completely unfamiliar with the jungle. I thought it could be days before we came upon another person, and it was starting to get dark. We had two options, turn around and crawl back down the mountain we had just climbed up, or continue on. The only thing that I had to depend on was the tugging of the spirits on my instincts that would lead me out of the mess I had gotten myself into. I stopped and asked the spirits for guidance. I sensed that the spirits were telling me to continue on and as we continued walking I began to find paths that led us to the forest. We wandered on a semi straight path through the forest until we found our salvation of the day…a banana field! These palm trees were an answer to a prayer that I didn’t even know I had said. I rushed forward to the banana field knowing that I would find a path there that a family surely was using to access their chakra of bananas.  I even saw a roof and hoped that there would be someone home. Unfortunately the roof was only a shade structure but alongside of it we found a path that led to another forest, where we found paths, which led into a field of cacao trees. It was as if the path was opening up for us and the cacao field led us to a pasture of cows. On the other side of the pasture was a house.

My companion and I walked upon the house covered in scratches for vines, dirt, bug bites, and looking completely disheveled. I explained to the Señora at the house that we had gotten lost in the woods. She pointed at our bare arms and legs and commented on our scratches and our inadequate choice of dress. My only response at that point was “God didn’t make us gringas for the jungle”. She nodded in agreement. I asked her where Huapo was, and she told me that we were in Huapo, which surprised me because I had never met this woman and thought we were practically in the middle of no where. She pointed me to the path that led me back to our house and as I walked along the road things began to look more and more familiar. 

Now when I think back to that day I chuckle at the situation and realize that it was only because I chose to sense the guiding spirits that I found our way out of the situation. There are legends in jungle culture that people go in and never return, and for a while that was almost the case. I learned my lesson, to never go into the jungle alone and unprepared, and realized that God didn’t make me for the jungle, but perhaps I will one day be prepared enough to manage the jungle.

Jungle Livelihoods

5:30am, the sun hasn’t even risen yet, and I’m on my way to watch a family’s daily routine of making Chankaka, a hardened block of sugar cane juice used for sweetener. They’ve been up since 4am though, and when I arrive they have already ground down half of the sugar cane stalks and three large buckets are filled with the remaining liquid that is taken out.

The simple machine they are using is known in Spanish as a Trapinche, and it is powered by animals, two horses in this case, who walked around in circles attached to a lever that spun the cylinders of the trapinche round and round.

Operating this machine was a family of 6, 2 twin 14 year olds, a male and a female couple of about 40 years old, a 66 year old mother/mother in law, and an 11 month old baby, and all contributed to one of the family’s livelihoods of making chankaka. The horses were powered by one of the 14 year olds who ran behind these graceful beasts, urging them on with the snap of a whip or the click of the tongue. The husband and wife of the home stood on either side of the trapinche, feeding the sugar cane stalks into the cylinders. Another son stood nearby with the 11 month old baby, entertaining her by chasing after the first boy operating the horses. The mother in law helped by carrying away the used sugar cane stalks to feed to the other livestock around the farm, washing out the tank used to boil the sugar cane juice, making breakfast.

When the family finished grinding the sugar cane, the juice still had to be boiled, which is a task that takes 6 hours, and then placed into molds to harden and taken to Lamas to sell. Other tasks for the day included milking cows and harvesting more sugar cane for the next day, going to school, making lunch…

This hard morning of work is crucial to this family’s livelihood and each person plays a crucial role in the process.

Cómo? Qué? ...ah, ya entiendo!

The words were zooming across the room. “mejor que digamos….”, “debemos incluir otros servicios sociales…”, “queremos saber también de su equipamiento…” While my mind was struggling to focus on this foreign language, I realized after this meeting with a local coffee cooperative that Spanish is no longer foreign to me, it has become a second language that I can manage with ease in this sometimes strange country. But my ability and fluidity in speaking Spanish allows me to connect with the people and work in a professional level that previously has been a challenge for me.

It was a challenge for me to keep up as I followed this conversation with three native Spanish speakers and one other near fluent Spanish speaker. My Spanish was definitely ranked 5^th out of the five people in the room. But as we discussed the community survey that myself and another intern have been designing, I felt that my understanding of the survey material, agriculture and sustainable livelihoods, was on par to participate as an equal in the conversation with these professional agriculture and agro-forestry professionals.

Communicating the need for holistic and community based measurements to these specialized professionals was one of the goals of the meeting and myself and my coworker were able to strategically navigate the Spanish and the semantics in order to bring understanding to the importance of these matters.

It is for reasons as these that I have come to Peru for the summer: to learn about agriculture and sustainable livelihoods, as well as how to manage and interact with development professionals that may not fully grasp the concept or importance of participatory community development. 

My energy level faltered, as the continuous need to follow the fast paced Spanish conversation lagged on, but I was energized as well with the skills that I was applying and the additional knowledge I was learning. Along with this I thought back to my first visits to Latin America and the effort that it took to communicate in Spanish. I reflected on how far my Spanish has come, to be able to sit in meetings with other professionals and comprehend the conversation’s details and clearly communicate concepts and ideas of my own.

Being in Peru this summer is also allowing me to grow in my Spanish language skills, something that I could never get in a classroom, and to grow professionally as well as personally. It is an invaluable experience that is as beautiful as the country and the people I am living among. 

Poop is PC

So I’m gonna geek out on you all for a few minutes and tell you about something that I was very much looking forward to during my time in Peru and it is being fulfilled! Its gonna sound really weird, but I was very excited when I found out that I was going to be using a composting latrine for the summer! Yes, that’s right, I was excited about the human waste disposal system. If you have ever travelled to developing countries you know that the bathroom facilities are usually not what we are used to in the United States, and in the countryside they are even more minimal, consisting most often of merely a hole in the ground that you squat over. These holes are usually swarming with flies and reek of human waste. I don’t ever recommend looking down into the hole, for what you will find will surely turn your stomach. 

A traditional latrine.

Quaint, but not very sanitary

I was first introduced to the concept of composting latrines in Paraguay, where a few of my Peace Corps friends had constructed their own personal composting latrines as both an alternative to the unsanitary options as well as a way to begin to implement alternative sanitation projects in their community. Of all the varieties of improved latrine projects that exist, this is the most sanitary as well as environmentally sustainable, even comparable to the toilets in the United States. How so? Well you don’t use any water and the waste will eventually be used as a fertilizer, completing the natural cycle. Also, proper maintenance of the composting latrine results in no smells and no bugs!

A composting latrine is built elevated, with the first level of the structure containing openable and/or removable compartments where the waste is first deposited and later removed. Human waste needs about a year to decompose before it can be used as fertilizer, so the compartments are divided into two so that one side is decomposing while the other is in use.

Elevated composting latrine with two divided compartments

So how does it work? After you do your business (both solid and liquid), throw a cup of sawdust, (well, we are using sawdust here, but you can also use ash…basically anything that will soak up liquids and maintain a dry atmosphere. All forms of human waste are acceptable to put in the composting toilet as well as toilet paper. Feminine Hygiene product won’t work here though (BUT, diva cup friendly!) Then, make sure the lid is closed. If the latrine starts to smell or have a lot of flies, just throw on more sawdust to maintain a dry environment!

A clean dry environment!

My favorite thing about our composting latrine is the cloth door made of Shipibo textiles. Its beautiful and blue!

SO...?  How did I do talking about shit in a politically correct way??

The Rainforest's Release

How long has it been?...

since I have walked in the rain like that?

Walking without a care in the world?

Not worrying about getting wet?

Saint Louis rainy days have forced me into the rain

Raincoat, rainboots, umbrella

All the necessary gear to protect me from the rain

Dashing from door to car

Store front to store front

Sidewalk to bus

Protecting my hair, my makeup, my clothes, my shoes, my computer, my books

Walking through the jungle, my clothes and hair sopping

I raised my head to the sky and outstretched my arms

The rain won’t stop me from enjoying this day

I have once again been released from the worries

Woman and earth have been reconnected

Woman and self have been reconnected

I am free, but I am planted