Jungle Funk

I would like to start by expressing how much I miss everyone back home. 

(insert long pause here)

But really. This trip would not be possible without the love and support of my dear friends and family. I cant explain how hard it is to be away from all of you. Especially now. Here is why:

A few weeks ago (I don’t really know which day because I don’t even know what day today is.. Im on Amazonian time) we boarded a bus. We had a few issues with sick-folk along the way and a few of our students had to head home (miss you Cody and Lauren!)  then, we took a 12 hour bus ride to Puerto Maldonado.

The drive (for the daylight portion) was beautiful. Incredible.   We drove over the Andes. Really, the Andes! 15, 000 ft elevation, surrounded by glaciers, strange vegetation and llamas. Some of us experienced a little altitude sickness from making such a steep climb in only a few hours. I was included in that. Mostly my eyes would not stay open and I would drift in and out of sleep.

the drive over the pass

the Andes

The trip was way too long thanks to our driver being extra cautious on the Peruvian hiway. We made a stop in a very VERY small town to use the restroom.  Walking into the nearest restaurant we asked to use the facilities. This one room restaurant was only a few long tables with a plastic cover and a television that was turned up full blast. There were two men eating and some children playing in the dark outside. The lady working there pointed outside and around back and we all followed the pointing.

Around the corner were 6 outdoor stalls. They were labeled baño 1, baño 2 and so forth.  The first two were stopped up. Number four’s light was out and five and six were holes in the ground. Looks like number 3 for me.  After beating that challenge we boarded up the bus again for another few hours.

bathrooms in mining town

yeah.

the shower (which we didnt use)

We arrived in Puerto Maldonado around 1 am and headed to bed. The next morning I had to make a pharmacy run because I was feeling less than “Heidi” so I got some supplements to make my heart sing. I wish I could describe properly Puerto Maldonado but try to imagine a Peruvian palm tree biker town where they use motorcycles as taxis, the women all dress very nicely and wear high-heals on their scooters, and the humidity is like nothing you can imagine. The thick sticky kind that makes you want to shower every 10 minutes. We didn’t spend a lot of time there but it felt like some post apoctolyptic city where civilization was rebuilding and had limited fuel resources so everyone had a motorcycle.

puerto maldonado

A six seater taxi showed up at our hotel doorstep and we loaded up and headed out for the hour drive to the boat port.  The town we ended at was a small mining village. The town was fairly sketchy but incredibly interesting. The open businesses were either convenience stores or boat/motorcycle repair shops. The town people were not incredibly used to tourists/out-of-towners so we had to be a little more guarded. I had to use the bathroom (this seems to be a trend) and I walked to the nearby gas station. I asked the young man working if I could use the bathroom. I was really nervous because we were told to just “be careful” in the town. He said “yeah” and he pointed. There were three stalls. I opened the door and found a fairly dirty and unusable toilet. He came running over and told me to use the one marked “privado.” This one really wasn’t much better. The place was a germ sanctuary. I still used it. Then headed out to strike up a conversation with the guy. We talked for a bit and he asked me where I was from. I told him “the states.” He said “ahhhh like Nueva York??”  I chuckled and told him ‘the other side.’  Then I found out that he knows the University of Washington and I was really impressed. I told him thank you so much for letting me use his restroom and I headed out.  

Also, I would like to mention I successfully peed in a hole (in a “bathroom stall” in this town for 2 soles.

One of our boats broke down before we boarded…. Sooooo we were able to borrow a supply boat that was lined with mattresses at the bottom for us to sit on. When I say boat, I hope you understand this was no cruise liner. This boat mimics a large canoe with a canopy. One man sits at the back with a motor and controls the boat. Seven of us fit on the mattresses and strapped on our life vests ready for the ride of a lifetime down the Madre de Dios river.

laberinto

my professor Ursula getting our boat packed up

some of the jungle view from the river

We all were so excited as the boat pulled away from the port in the city of Laberinto, We waved to the other half of our class boarding the next boat and sped off.  The ride was exhilarating (at least for the first two of the five hours).

Madre de dios.

The water was a murky brown red color from its decent from the Andes large intrepid watershed. Dotted along the river, gold mines past and present, impacted the banks of the river like cancer. The mines were continuous and slowly moving more into the landscape, clearing trees, killing wildlife and vegetation, and polluting the river.  A very dangerous bi-product of the gold mining process is mercury.

a rainstorm while we were on the river(complete with thunder and lightning)

the after product of the rainstorm

the sunset on the river

gold mining operation

Gold mining in the Amazon has become a huge environmental issue as well as social hazard. Children are being taken from their homes to do the most dangerous work in the process- the diving. Aside from that people are dipping their entire bodies in containers with mercury in them.

We arrived at CICRA, a biological station for conservation.  You can read more about it here: http://www.amazonconservation.org/ourwork/research.html

We loaded our luggage up a thousand stairs (well not so much but it may as well have been a thousand) and headed to our cabin. Our cabin was a large building with ceilingless rooms, no electricity, and no hot water. Im not complaining. It definetly built character.

First thing I noticed stepping into the Amazon was the amount of insects:

HUGE secadas

HUGE moths

And a hundred bugs biting my ankles

madre de dios river

sunrise in the jungle

Our rooms were nice for being in the jungle, but going to sleep was difficult. We did not have windows, only screens for windows, so all of the noises of the jungle creeped into our room all night. We slept under mosquito nets and listened to all the insects out side. Definitely a new experience for me.

los amigos station eating hall

my mosquito netted bed

The week at CICRA

melastomatacea leaf

We spent all week researching. My specific project had to do with the melastomataceae plant.  We were studying how light, soil pH, temperature, ect. affected this important plant in the rainforest.

We spent every day trekking thru the jungle, setting plots and counting plants.  Our hikes would last up to four hours sometimes, which gave us ample opportunity to see all the wild life.

Here are some of the animals we saw:

Capuchin monkeys

Squirrel monkeys

Emperor tamerine monkey

Orpendula

Black vultures

Turkey vultures

Egeret (all three kinds)

Anolis

Sphynx moths

Gigantic roaches

Huge secadas

Tucans

Parrots

Maccaws

Royal flycatchers

Giant turtle

Cayman (crocodile)

Roadside hawks

Ready Quail Dove

Orb weaving spiders

Praying mantis

Gecko

Athena Spider

Morpho Butterflies

Phylomedusa Frog

Bats

Scorpion

Crazy catapillars

Bullet ants

Also we saw/heard:

Peckarys (wild pigs)

Jaguar tracks

Matapalo tree (crazy huge strangler tree)

lake edge where we searched for giant otters

animal trap I found deep in the rainforest

capuchin monkeys outside our cabin

At one point we had 20 squirrel monkeys swinging over head.  Another point I watched 5 shooting stars from a lookout over the Madre de dios river.

my poor feet

During my stay I acquired 120 bug bites, chiggers all over my body, and I even had a tick buried in my hand. Also, jungle funk is a real thing. If you don't know what it smells like, I pray you never will. It seeps into your clothing, your hair, your skin. You try to wash it off in the shower and it maybe works for a minute, but its in the air and it will find you.

I got a super awesome opportunity to help my good friend Alyssa Boettger with her birding project. She set up nets at 5 a.m. and waited in half hour increments to see what she could catch. Then she measured and banded each bird and then let it go. She did this repeatedly for a few days and recorded all of her data into a global birding site. My friends are so cool. 

One of the most interesting things was the fact that we were neighboring non-contacted villages. Indigenous Peruvians that have never seen a white girl from the U.S. We were told to stay away from these areas because there have been attacks on researchers in the past, rare, but it could happen. I partially wanted to run into them because of my extreme interest in ancient cultures.

After 8 days of the jungle, we headed back to a relaxing evening in Puerto Maldonado, then headed back to Cusco the next morning. 
My experience in the Peruvian rainforest was something unforgettable. Really difficult and lonesome at times, and completely phenomenal at others. I was challenged in unimaginable ways and came out a better student and a stronger woman. 

Worms, Salt, Guinea Pig, Textiles, Ceramics, Chicha, Machu Picchu, OH MY! My second week in Peru

 

 Holy Peru Batman.So Many Good Things.

Some things  about Peru:

many houses on the outskirts of the city are made with clay and mud

clothing made from alpaca is sold on every corner of every street cause it is so incredibly cold

the last Incan was supposedly killed by the spanish in the main plaza of Cusco

there are too many children on the streets selling trinkets and sleeping in doorways of restaurants

the people that I've met so far are very hospitable and welcoming 

People here love to party, dance, and stay out til the wee hours of the morn

Worm farm

This week has been a whirlwind of one amazing adventure after another. I don’t know how to fit all of it in, but… you know I’ll try.

If you would have told me a month ago that I would be digging in the dirt at a sustainable worm farm in the hills of Urumbamba Peru, I would have laughed at your insanity. 

Well look who’s laughing now (still me) because that’s exactly what I did. With my class, I drove by bus to the far stretching mountains beyond Cusco, to visit a sustainable worm farm. Our humble host for the afternoon was a Californian named Jeff. Jeff has been working on the farm for 18 years now and passion for sustainability and the livelihood of the townspeople poured from him.  He had four men working there with him on the day we visited, who he employed from the local village. Regular visits from school children will hopefully ensure that organic worm farming will carry on into the future and people will use less pesticides in their fertilizer.  Our job was to help the men sort thru the piles of soil that and pick out all the California Red Wigglers so they could go back to work in the next pile of dung. Did I mention the soil used to be a huge pile of horse poo? Chyeah. But the sustainability of the farm and the efficiency of the worms cut down any smell.  It was virtually odorless.

 

I could not complain about the location either. The landscape was phenomenal. The tall Peruvian mountains had a likening to our Eastern Washington backdrop, but on a grander scale. We had no bathrooms or running water. I used a Peruvian bush to do my business behind. The only downfall was these darn mosquitos that bit the crud out of my ankle leaving me swollen and red spotted for a week.

We worked then shared a really nice picnic then headed on a cool walk around the property. The changes in scenery were astounding. It felt dry like a desert in the area we were working, but a beautiful river ran down the mountain supplying the property with refreshing clean glacier water. Green trees lined the river and we felt instantly hydrated. I made friends with the men working there and they taught me phrases in Quechua, which I definitely cannot remember! 

Quechua is the second official language of Peru and it is not easily written. It is taught in schools, but is a very difficult language to learn unless your family has traditionally spoke it. 

 

If you are interested in making your own worm farm go here: http://www.tumbleweed.com.au/WormFarming/WormFarmingFAQs.aspx

Also, one thing that struck me about these men I talked with. They were incredibly proud to be Peruvian. “I am so thankful to be born in this country,” one said.  That was a beautiful thing to me.

Salt mines of Maras (Las Salinas De Maras)

“Pass the salt.”

Salt is on of the most important commodities of the world. The word “salary” actually comes from the word “salt,” It’s that important!

We had an amazing opportunity to visit the Salt mines of Maras, Peru. It is an indescribable place (but I’ll try).

These mines are located in the Sacred Valley. Two communities run the mines and they have all been handed down generation after generation since Inca times. The mines themselves are large salt lined shallow pits in the ground about 4 square meters. Highly concentrated saltwater flows slowly into each pit. Workers take care to maintain the amount of water going into each pit using rocks to block the flow. With the evaporation of the sun salt is created and the farmer comes to mine it.

The salt is mined by men, women and children and sold in the local market, and really all over the world.  I spoke to a little girl who worked there with her family and she talked to me for a few minutes about the mines. 

The Center for Traditional Textiles

Meet Nilda.  Nilda’s passion is to keep alive the ancient art of textiles, to provide jobs for women in the community, and educate children so this art form does not disappear in the future (and feed hungry volunteers that come to work in her shop- yes, that's guinea pig) .  The center that we visited lay in the small town of Chinchero. The women, all very talented, ranged in age from very young, maybe 20 to 87. They all had specific tasks to do, and that is what we came to help with. 

 

We were able to be a part of a 600-year-old dying process. 

We started with crushing roots using a rock and a piece of wood. Then boiling the choppings in a huge vat of water heated by open fire. We put in the woven alpaca and let it boil while one of us stirred with a huge stick. After a while the dyes had set in and we had to remove the yarn from the boiling water using huge sticks!

Then after three water baths to remove sediment, the yarn was ready to dry. 

We worked at the workshop for hours until we were covered in stains from the dyes. Our hands hurt, we couldn’t breath well from all the smoke and our muscles were sore from moving around all the huge pots. The women that work there, and have worked there for years, do this every day. It was amazing. And they love to do it. I talked with many of the women and they told me about their designs and their dresses. I played with their children and bought some of their art. These 118 women support their families by upholding the beautiful tradition of textile weaving. Their work is beautiful and if you are interested in supporting their organization by purchasing one of their many woven pieces check it out here: http://www.incas.org/center-for-traditional-textiles-of-cusco

Seminario Ceramics

There once was a man who lived in the hills of Urumbamba, Peru who lived in a shack with his wife and his son. At home he would make little carvings or paintings and take them to the street and try and sell them to tourists to make money to feed his family. He says now with a grin speaking about his wife, “I don’t know how she put up with me for all those years.” The man traveled to Cusco and asked to learn about the ancient art of clay sculpting, pottery.

He learned the techniques and what tools to use to perfection. Starting with architecture and sculpting houses, now this man, Pablo Seminario, uses Peruvian red clay and sculpts “what he feels like sculpting” and sells it all over the world.  His pieces are not native contemporary art as they have been called; they are products of his imagination. A beautiful imagination at that.

If you are interested in clay art of Seminario Ceramics check it out here: http://www.ceramicaseminario.com/en/

Our tour guide for the ceramic studio was Pablo’s son Kusi Seminario Behar. 

Kusi discussed the way in which the clay was carefully sculpted and formed into the beautiful pieces in the gallery. The studio was awe-inspiring, compete with animals for petting (llama, turtle) and even parrots to ride on your shoulder while you are strolling through. The studio employs many people from the community, men and women. The men sculpt the clay while the women delicately paint the Inca designs of hummingbirds, flowers, fish, or the giver of life, the sun. 

 

 Kusi is also a very talented photographer, which as you can imagine, sparked my interest. We chatted about photography, cameras, locations, lenses, and people.

Please take a minute to check out his photography 

 https://www.facebook.com/kusi.seminario.fotografia

Chicha

  

Corn beer, the staple beverage of Peru for hundreds of years. Chicha is made from sprouted and fermented corn and has been said to be the beverage handed to the Inca when making the long trek from Cusco to Machu Picchu at the Gate of the Sun. We were fortunate to stop on our drive out to Aguacalientes from Urumbamba to meet a family that has been making it for generations. 

"Chicha Bar" it said in hand painted letters over the opening of the door.  A shy middle aged woman welcomed us and invited in to sit and learn about the brewing process. Men of all ages sat around in the open spaces drinking and talking together.  She told us how she is very careful and her "bar" is the cleanest around thanks to her mother's guidance, who passed down the recipe to her. She was right, the small room where we sat on little wooden benches was very clean. Vats of brewing chicha sat delicately covered with white linen. 

I met her daughter who was just as shy as she was, but so giggly. I imagined how their life must be. They are the center of the community, where everyone gathers. Even children drink chicha because it only has about 1-2 % alcohol content. They were so happy to be there together and  providing the space for passer-bys and towns people to sit and play games or chat about their lives. 

Machu Picchu

I have waited a really long time to go to Machu Picchu. That sounds silly because I suppose someone would only wait as long as they waited until they went. What I mean to say is that through the years since I was a child, my interest and excitement about other cultures has grown. I told myself  3 years ago that I was going to make it possible for me to go to Machu Picchu. 

I have done it. I am here. Being here cultivates my adult imagination. I dream of what it was like 500 years ago, the colors, the smells, the music and the people. I am not writing a lot in this section, I will just post photos, but come here, if you can, sit on the highest spot and look around at the beauty of the earth.