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We woke up at around 6:30 a.m. When we emerged from our bunkhouse, Felipe and Carlos were waiting for us. They told us that they were going on a hike to try to hear the early morning cock of the rock bird, and asked if we wanted to join them. They said that it was only a short hike. That's how they had described yesterday's all-day hike as well, so we didn't exactly believe them.
Today would be our last day with the Waira Churis, and we decided that we wanted to spend our time socializing with them rather than hiking. We had brought a Frisbee with us that we intended to give to the kids, and this morning would be a perfect time to do so. So we thanked Carlos and Felipe for the offer, and they headed off into the jungle. Craig and I ate a breakfast of fried potatoes in the dining hut. They were very fresh and yummy. When we had finished eating, we went outside and played with Lorena the parrot. The kids had taught us to make a certain noise which causes her to ruffle up her neck feathers and let you pet her. Two young boys, Israel and Michael, were hovering around us. I ducked into our room and got the Frisbee, which we presented to the boys. While we were playing with them, two young girls, Anna and Sacha, approached us. Sacha's name means "jungle" in Kichwa. They presented us each with a fibrous stick. At first we weren't sure what to do with it, but then we noticed that the girls were each sucking one. We put it to our lips and immediately recognized the sweet taste. This was sugar cane. The early morning sun was hot, and this was very refreshing. It was very nice of the girls to share with us. We convinced Anna and Sacha to join in the Frisbee game. The Frisbee had immediately broken the ice with the kids, and we had fun chatting and playing with them. Soon we were called over to a rustic wood-framed pavilion which had a corrugated aluminum roof. The rest of the family had gathered in there. They had collected palm fronds, and taught us how to weave / braid / knot them into various accessories. We attempted the techniques ourselves, but of course we were not very adept at it. Under the pavilion there was a smoldering termite mound. They were burning it to keep the bugs away. As the mound burned, termites would scurry out, only to be immediately gobbled up by opportunistic chickens. Ah, the circle of life. What looked at first like a knotted grass skirt turned out to be a necklace. Some of the girls created a harness / leash for Tony the puppy. The older women were weaving more elaborate things, like baskets. They braided palms into a headband for Craig and myself, and they tied them around our heads and placed a single feather on the front. Anna and Sacha were interested in the camera, so I let them take some pictures. They went behind the pavilion with one of the boys and swung from vines like Tarzan. They asked me to give it a try and I said no, that I would just take pictures of them. But little girls can be very persuasive and, against my better judgment, the next thing I knew I was attempting to swing from the vine. I was unable to hold myself up and I fell off the vine into a ditch below. I became aware that my fingers had been stripped of skin on my way down - three on the left hand and two on the right. Ouch! And how embarrassing! I went down to the "shower" rock to wash out my wounds. There was a little frog there to keep me company. I knew that wounds are slow to heal in jungle climates, and can become infected easily. I wanted to get them as clean as I could. The cool water stung the tender skin. When I went back to the camp, Felipe and Carlos had returned from their hike. They had succeesfully located cocks-of-the-rock, and they showed us some video footage they had gotten. When Felipe saw my wounded fingers, he immediately dug out some iodine and cortisone from his first aid kit. He cleansed my wounds with iodine, and asked the Waira Churis if someone could collect some sangre de drago. Dragon's blood, as it is called, is a sap-type liquid that comes from a tree, and is very helpful at sealing wounds. While we waited, one of the women tied a palm necklace around my neck, trying to take my mind off my injury. A few minutes later someone returned with a cup full of some liquid which looked exactly the color and consistency of blood. I dipped a finger in and then rubbed the crimson liquid over my skinned fingers. Felipe instructed me to rub it onto my wounds in a circular motion until it turned from scarlet to creamy white, and got a gluey consistency. Within minutes, the sting went away and I could see improvement. Rather than using creams and bandaids which would not let the wounds dry out, this created a 'second skin' coating and allowed them to dry out. I would need to be careful using my fingers, but this stuff was a godsend. I joked that I had done this on purpose in order to test out their traditional medicine. My conclusion was that the tribal remedy worked beautifully and I canīt believe how well and quickly my fingers healed. Felipe joined in a Frisbee game with the kids. Craig and I sat together on a wooden bench. Tony the puppy came over to visit us. Soon we noticed a sizeable caterpillar which resembled a piece of tree bark. Its legs and antennae looked like moss sprouting from it. It was a scary looking thing. Felipe and I both photographed it. [Update: Octavio (nicknamed El Tigre, the Tiger) was continuing to carve the cutting board that Felipe had commissioned with a chisel. The kids looped tree vines and tied them into a swing. They sat in the loop and swung back aqnd forth. The camp dogs were hanging around us. The one that looked like a wolf was named Oso, or Bear. The gold colored one was named Kushni. They had mixed up some natural materials to make the dye that they use to paint tattoos on their skin. They apply it using a small thin stick as a stylus. Felipe drew a spider on the upper arm of one of the older girls. Craig brought some laundry down to the shower rock and cleaned his shirts. Little rust colored butterflies gathered near the water. He hung the shirts to dry in our cabin and then headed back down to the shower rock so that he could shave. We were called to the dining hut for lunch. We feasted on chicken soup, a huge chunk of fresh chicken, yucca, and some salad made from onion and tomato. It was a nice hearty delicious lunch. After we finished eating, Edmundo painted traditional black tattoos on our faces, applying using a small stick to apply a natural dye extracted from a palm tree. Craig and Felipe got sideways chevron patterns on their cheeks, and I got a more elaborate row of diamond shapes. We were told that they would darken as they dried. They said it should last 3 weeks, and we laughed thinking about showing up at work with what looks essentially like a tattoo on our faces. However, after sweating a lot in the next week, it would pretty much be washed off before we even arrive home. We rested for a while and then went into the woods behind the camp where the men of the family demonstrated four different kinds of traps that they set to catch animals in the jungle. The first trap was definitely the most dramatic. Carlos used sticks and stringy vines to hold a large stick bent back with potential energy. Once it was armed, Felipe took off his shoe and stuck it in the trap like unsuspecting prey. He dislodged the trigger and the stick snapped down like a guillotine. It has snapped with such force that Felipe had a hard time extracting his shoe. Wow, that was incredibly effective! This was all so interesting! We watch survival shows on television (Les Stroud being one of our favorites). and we have often seen people set up traps like this. But we had never seen it in person. The second trap involved piling some logs on top of one another. When a trigger dislodged the top log, it fell, effectively crushing whatever was below it. After the drama of the first trap, this one was a bit of a let down. With no additional force applied, it only fell at the speed of gravity, which just didn't look as impressive. The next trap was a snare. The men were barely finished arming it when one of the casmp chickens wandered by, stepped right in the loop, and flew through the air suspended by its leg. Talk about proof that these traps really work! What had prompted this chicken to wander out of nowhere just to be caught? It was as if they had scripted it. One of the guys freed the chicken and put it back down on the ground. The kids were swinging from vines in the jungle. I had learned my lesson. There was no way with these skinned fingers that I was going to attempt that again. Though the older kids could just hang on, they fashioned a harness of sorts out of vines so that baby Tamia could safely swing without the danger of falling. It was so nice to see kids entertaining themselves with no cell phones or computer games. The girls covered Kushni the dog with leaves so that all but his head was camouflaged. The men had apparently reset the snare, because we suddenly heard squawking and fluttering. We turned around to see that the exact same chicken had been snared by the exact same trap. Now this really looked staged! We all had quite a laugh at the bird's inability to learn its lesson the first time! Carlos got out his blow gun and darts. The blow gun was about a meter long, black, and carved out of wood. I had expected that it probably took a large breath to propel the dart through that long barrel. They took arrows and affixed a cotton-like substance from a ceiba tree, loaded it into the gun, and blew it at a target made from yucca and a leaf. Carlos demonstrated his prowess by routinely hitting the yucca. They handed me the gun, and I held it extended in front of me. I breathed into it lightly and to my surprise, the dart flew out the end effortlessly and hit the leaf but didn't penetrate the yucca. It was easier to use than I had expected. Felipe then took a turn, and then Craig. Craig hit the leaf where I had. We had learned so much from this jungle show and tell. It was nice to just be hanging out in and around camp with the Waira Churis. This was really our first trip which took us into a truly Amazon-style jungle environment. It was very humbling. After the blow dart demonstration, we went back to camp. I wanted to make sure to keep my wounds cleaned, so I got my cup full of sangre de drago and headed down to the shower rock to clean my fingers once again. The sangre de drago was really working quickly. My wounds now had a slight skin over them and they felt less tender already. This was clearly the perfect medicine for the job, and it was found right here in the jungle. This traditional remedy probably worked better than any over-the-counter drug you would buy at home. I carefully washed my fingers and re-applied the sangre de drago, marveling at nature's capabilities. We went into one of the family's traditional thatched roof huts. The light was dim inside. Natural light filtered in between the slats of wood and bamboo poles which made up the walls. Carlos was wearing his Wellies, and sat leaning up against the wall, playing a flute that looked like a reed. It reminded us of the African-influenced American blues of Othar Turner and the Rising Star Fife and Drum Band. There was a fire smoldering in the hut, and the smoke curled around in front of Carlos. Carlos mentioned that one of his flutes was broken. Felipe had electrical tape with him as part of his emergency kit, and he offered some to Carlos. Carlos wrapped up the flute and then started to play it. It worked nicely! Maria started to sing as Carlos played the flute, and Felipe picked up a small drum and joined in as well. This was such a nice moment, just sitting here quietly in this amazing setting, listening to music that has been around since pre-Colombian times. We took some video footage and Maria seemed to really enjoy playing it back. Carlos said that he wanted to demonstrate a traditional Kichwa wedding dance for us. Felipe told him that we had just celebrated our 12th wedding anniversary several days ago, and this was all the motivation they needed. They brought us outside and put together an impromptu "wedding" with us as bride and groom. They were all wearing their traditional blue tunics this afternoon. They dressed us up. I put on an elastic-waisted pink skirt over my pants, and they placed a red piece of fabric as a veil over my face. This all clashed tremendously with the green shirt that I was wearing. They gave Craig a white shirt to put on over his clothes, and they didn't even give him a chance to tuck in the shirt tails of his orange shirt underneath. They tied a red kerchief around his neck. Good-natured giggling on the Waira Churis' part confirmed our suspicions that we must look quite ridiculous with all these different layers of clothing. A woman stood on either side of me, and we linked arms. Two men did the same to Craig. These symbolized our godmothers and godfathers, who would give us away for marriage. Carlos chanted as he beat on a small drum, and we danced, approaching one another and then backing off, until they officially handed me over to Craig, and transferred the beautiful green, blue, and red feathered crown from his head to mine. When the song was over, they took off my veil and arranged us for photos. We really enjoyed this little window into some of their cultural traditions. It was very sweet that they had wanted to do this for us. This day was very much about us becoming closer to the family, and we are so glad that we added this additional day to the itinerary. It was already starting to get dark. Felipe climbed the tree that served both as a chicken roosting area as well as the highest point around to receive cell phone signals, so that he could send a text to Arturo. Arturo would be picking us up tomorrow morning, hopefully in our newly repaired truck. This was our final night here, and they had planned a traditional ceremony. As it was getting late, weate a very quick meal of pulled chicken and rice. The men were assembling in the pavilion, and Felipe, Craig and I met them there. Carlos' son Carlos Jr. (who is also baby Tamia's father) was there, as were several other men and boys. Carlos smoked a cigarette and poured a liquid concoction into a gourd. He blew smoke on it and then handed it to Craig to drink. It was slightly bitter and earthy, having been no doubt extracted from somenearby plant. Felipe and Carlos Jr. also drank a cupful. They offered me a cupful as well, but I politely declined. With my injury earlier in thye day, I didn't want to risk anything further.We sat in the dark looking at the red hot coals of the fire. I tried to take some pictures but the flash was very intrusive, and there wasn't enough ambient light. Then Carlos called Craig up to be cleansed. He chanted and whistled, and repeatedly swatting at Craig with a bundle of leaves, similarly to what the Kichwa shaman had done with Sisa in Morochos. Then he stood behind Craig, put his hands around Craig's head, and exhaled on him a few times. Then he made Craig put his palms together while Carlos exhaled onto Craig's fingertips. The chanting was mesmerizing and practically put us into a trance. it was low-key but intense at the same time. Everyone spoke quietly, and we could hear ambient jungle noises. Craig's turn was now over, and Carlos called me over. He said that I swam at the waterfall and that pleased the spirits. He clkeansed me in the same way he had done to Craig. When he blew on the top of my head it was a very strange sensation, and it sent shivers down my spine. We felt at one with these people and their environment. It was very powerful. Kushni the dog laid down at Craig's feet, and Craig petted him as Felipe and Carlos Jr. also got the cleansing treatment. We all sat in dark silence until the ceremony was finished. The whole ceremony lasted approximately two hours, at which time Carlos re-lit some candles. They roused us as they dispersed for the night, and we felt like we were awoken from a dream. Everyone eventually wandered off to bed. As we walked from the pavilion back to our bunkhouse, we looked up at the stars and we also saw fireflies. A man (whom we hadn't even noticed in the pavilion) walked out of camp via the path back to the road, and disappeared into the jungle darkness. Who was her, and where had he come from? Where was he off to so late at night? Just then a breeze picked up and the palm trees shuddered. Was this even real? I entered the bunkhouse and started to write in the journal by headlamp. Craig stayed outside, lost in the stars, standing all alone in the middle of camp, until I prompted him to come inside and go to bed. It had been cloudy for much of the trip and Craig wasnīt going to give up this opportunity to see some stars. We went to sleep at 11:30. This was by far the latest night we had had so far in the jungle. And we would be waking up bright and early at 5:45 a.m. to meet back up with Arturo and begin our kayak expedition on the Shiripuno River. |
              
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