On the moon

Sorry for the delay in posting. Also the no photos, internet is so slow and I am using a hotel computer because my tavel adapter for my laptop exploded, really. Seriously, fire came out of it and it burned my finger. Anyhow, here is another update:

So tired but I feel rather relaxed. Several mornings ago Oscar, Herman, Oscars Brother, and I set out for a remote villge up the Rio Momon. This boat was in worse shape then the last one and water leaked in from the bottom. Our motor was a 6.5hp engine that made a noise like really angry pop corn. We set off at a slow speed, all that the motor could handle and again several hours past, down narrow tributaries and canals until we reached an unmarked landing area. We planted the boat and walked to the village an hour away. We talked, I took photos and videos, all seemed well. We had not eaten all day so when we were offered a cup of warm goat milk with rice we took it, I did not feel so well after that. The village was small, homes are one room with perhaps a wall, the floor is made of thin wood slapped together that bends as you walk on it. It does not pay to be a fat person walking in these houses.

The people we spoke with were nice, all of them said we were welcome but that we were not really going to help them. NGO´s come all the time I was told, they talk, some bring food and promise to return, but they don´t. Oscar explained that his group is going to form a Co Op, and that they are not an NGO. TO turned to me and asked if we have Co Op´s in the USA. I thought for a moment and all I could think of was my REI membership Co Op so I said, yes. I also said that Co Op´s work well but everyone has to participate and at times it can be hard. That is all I said not wanting to become a source of information.

We walked back to the boat, still hungry and now more tired than ever. I was light headed and my back was sore from all my gear. The boat engine sputters, but will not start. We drift for some time as they try to fix the engine, practically taking it apart on the boat. I was told this would happen but the folks in the US told me not to worry unless my guide was worried and that never happens. My guide was worried.

It was getting dark. The Amazon at night is the stuff nightmares are made of. Strange noises, odd lights, and voices from the river banks. We make paddels out of branches we found (yes, the boat had no oars) and start rowing. My guide now seems to have a plan and does not seem so worried. The plan it to row to Santo Thomas. A larger village of about 15 huts. We arrive just after dark and walk towards the village. Hungry tired and sore we ask for some food and a place to stay. They let us stay at the home of the village grade school teacher as she is out on vacation but there is no food to share with us. I found it odd to look into the face of someone that had no food and ask them to share. At that moment, the villagers and I had something in common, we were both hungry.

They men worked on the boat all night as Oscar and I sat up and sang songs on Oscars guitar. I shared my cigarettes and they gave us sugar cane rum, that was all there was at the moment. So, in a familiar moment to me we all sat there drinking and smoking and playing guitar. The entire village silently came out of the dark to hear the music. I shot video and took photos while Oscar continued to play. Finally the engine sputtered to life and we all rejoiced. Then we went to sleep, my mosquito net had wholes in it.....fantastic.

I did not sleep much that night, the buzzing is very loud. The villagers sleep in the huts I mentioned earlier but the floor has many holes in it, and they all live above a pool of standing water. I take Maleria pills every morning that I am here and I hope they work.

Speaking of the pills....you have to take them with food, otherwise you have a dizzy sort of high feeling. Well, I was on my second day without food. I woke up with a bit of a headache, another familiar feeling, and we walked over to a house where an older woman lived. Again, we asked for food (why they would have it now and not last night I don´t know) but were told they had none. Figuring he would at least get some work done, Oscar had us walk to a house on the edge of the village. You have to understand that when walking in the jungle the trail can many times only be seen people who know what to look for. You many times come to a very narrow branch that acts as a bridge (one of those moments that you say....you have to be shitting me) over rocks and water. Your boots are muddy with clay and other lubricants so you can understand how this could give a guy from Portland a bit of a pause. We came to the house Oscar was looking for, he gave his talk and all seemed well. Then, it happened. The offer of something to eat! Oscar said yes please bring us three servings. They had Masate to offer us...

Masate is sort of like a soup. The woman of the house chews up yuka plant for a long time and spits it into a bucket with the pulp, then she lets it sit so it can ferment. Then, it is served at a temp of just above luke warm. It smells like a mix of vomit and sour milk. Remember, I have a bit of a hang over. I drank some, and stopped. It is rude to not drink it so my guide offered to drink it for me, god bless him.

We made it back to the village to find out our boat engine was dead again. I will post the rest of the story soon. Now, I am too tired. I hope you are all well.