Veronica, on my other side, is squeezing a mixture of sangre de drago (tree sap) and juices from oja roja (a red leaf, I can't remember its name) over my blisters. It stings so badly. Eve thinks there is some sort of alcoholic property in the plants.
I feel like a patient in a rural hospital and, to be honest, I am enjoying myself despite the pain. Earlier in the day, the girls spent time making beaded necklaces in the traditional Shuar style with plant seeds and hemp. I now have so much more respect for the work it takes to make those necklaces and bracelets--it is painful! Pushing a small needle through a dense seed, stringing along 30 of these in a pattern, sitting for nearly 3 hours, etc. Intense!
Meanwhile, Gustavo is making a crown of jaguar fur for James. This also takes a lot of work, as Gustavo and James take sticks on the ground and pound them with knives and water to make them supple enough to weave. And then they weave. And then they sew on the fur. There is much time in all of this for the "men" to bond. Gustavo seems to really like James (which the girls find funny because James does not speak very much spanish) and tells him his life story.
Apparently, Gustavo has 30 brothers and sisters. Yes, 30. His father had 4 wives and his mother had 10 children. He himself only has 9, all of (which/whom), by the way, Gustavo delivered himself of his one wife in the middle of the jungle. No lie. Gustavo is 38 years old.
I'm flabbergasted. In the Shuar tradition, women often deliver their own children themselves, alone, in the jungle, in their garden, on their knees, in thirty minutes or less. I relay this information to Gustavo and he says, excitedly, "Claro, claro!"
I then (some of you will love this) tell Gustavo and Veronica about Jon and Kate Plus 8. He is astounded. "6 children! All at one time! In one belly?" It is crazy. We assure him that we think it is crazy, too. Then we tell him that the parents are getting a divorce. He shakes his head and says, "I am poor, but I do not think I have the worse problem." And this is the moment I know that Gustavo is very, very wise.
I think about all the "things" I have back in the States. Internet, electricity, clean water, no bugs, a bathroom, shoes, clean socks. Most people in the States have all of these things and more. But I can only think of a handful of people who are truly as happy as Gustavo is. His life is hard, but he provides and at night, before he goes to bed, he can count more blessings than pain.
The remainder of the day, we rest, because Gustavo is worried that our group is falling apart, physically. Me with my injuries, Adrienne with terrible stomach pains, and poor James. James is Gustavo's biggest concern. James has not been feeling well and has been unable to eat anything. James is a big guy (almost 6'4"). The guy needs to eat. Feeling weak and tired, James asks for one of the six oreos I have with me. Oreos, at this point, are a precious commodity. He immediately feels a little bit better.
The day ends with a farewell ceremony, this time, inside the house. And the four of us are grateful because with all of the jumping up and down the kids are doing, the entire hut trembles, driving away (finally) the scores of cockroaches that have grown accustomed to a still, warm, dry house.
But soon, as we sleep, it rains. It pours. And I groan internally because I know that tomorrow, the hike is going to be even more muddy than when we came in.
And it is. Incredibly so. And it rains as we hike the difficult walk back. I hate the uphill climbs. This next day brings the first morning that I don't feel well and can't eat my food. With anxiety, the physical exertion, and relatively poor nutrition, I feel incredibly ill the entire day...before, during, and after the hike. Eve is more worried that I will slip on the downhill track and really hurt my ankle. The hike, which only took 4ish hours coming in, takes 6 hours to come out.
And when our group emerges from la selva, we are exhausted. We buy cold bottled water, coca cola, and cookies. And we gorge ourselves. Or, at least, the other three do. I can only keep down water and some crackers.
But I survived. And the next day, I felt better. The bad passed and all that remains now are the memories of an absolutely incredible experience. My ankle is fine. My blisters are gone. The bug bites are annoying but will go away.
But Gustavo and his family and la selva remain in my heart for all the lessons they taught me, whether or not they were lessons they intended to teach.
P.S. Apparently, Gustavo really, really liked us. Our homestay mother tells us that no one has ever come out of this community with gifts. Certainly not crowns of jaguar fur. Eve and James are worried about getting the crown through customs, however. Vamos a ver!
P.P.S No visions from the Maricoa. But this was just a topical treatment. ;)
No comments:
Post a Comment