Stepping off the plane, I was met by the hottest, most humid blast of air I have ever experienced. It threw me back a little. And by the time that I walked across 100 yards of tarmac, I was already drenched in sweat. From the airport, it is short cab ride into town, and intto the chaos.
Buses, cars, mopeds, and bicycles flew down the streets at overwhelming speeds. Venders lined the main street selling anything from fish, to the latest in designer knock off sunglasses. The sounds of horns, people, and music filled the air. It was a little overwhelming at first, so I bought a coconut popsicle, sat down on my bag, and took it all in. That first night I couldn’t sleep, so I just decided to lay on my bed with the AC on high, and let the city noises serenade me.
The next morning I woke up ready to take care of business, which was trying to track down my contact. If you have read this far then you are probably wondering where I am going with this, well here it is. The reason that I went to Ecuador was to do a story on an indigenous tribe named the Cofan. I had been in contact with a tribal representative through email, which led to a name and a phone number of who to contact once I arrived in Lago Agrio. I called this number only to realize that my broken Spanish did not work at all on the phone. Without hand motions and smiles, my communication skills drastically went down hill. Although the conversation was a disaster, I was able to figure out that I would be picked up at 8:00 am the following morning to begin the trek out towards the Cuyabeno Wilderness and the Cofan village of Zabalo.
The following morning arrived quickly, and at 8:00 am I was sitting contently on my bag out in front of the hotel, enjoying another coconut popsicle. Twenty minutes rolled past, then an hour, then two hours, and still there was no sign of my ride. Finally, around noon a beat up old wood sided truck pulled up in front of me, and the adventure began.
I walked around to the back of the truck only to find that they barely had room for me, already sitting there were around 5 children, 6 or 7 adults, a dog, a bunch of chickens, and a pile of bags. I threw my gear on the pile, grabbed a hold of the truck bed and let out the universal whistle that meant I was ready. As the truck thundered to life, I managed to say hello to everyone in Spanish, only to receive a few smiles and then silence.
After about an hour and a half of washboard road, the truck finally screeched to a halt in the town of Dureno. Dureno is a place where the Cofan have a canoe building business, and it is where they launch their canoes to begin the 275 kilometer journey down the Rio Aguarico to the village of Zabalo.
We unloaded the truck and stacked everything next to a tree that had a canoe tied to it. These canoes are very long and skinny, and at first glance you would have no idea that they can hold such an incredible amount. After loading everything it was time to shove off, and if my memory serves me there ended up being around 25 people, 8 chickens, two dogs, our luggage, and two 50-gallan barrels of gasoline that I had the pleasure of sitting next to.
The canoe had a pretty good size outboard motor attached and still they announced that we weren’t expected to get to Zabalo for another ten hours, if all went smoothly. After we made a successful ferry out of an eddy and into the current, the drinking began. Box wine was the drink of choice that day and they were generous to me, too generous. Before I new it, I was a little tipsy and loving every minute of it.
I wish I could fully describe to you how surreal it was that day in the canoe, heading out into the unknown, with people that I had just met. As soon as we left the shore in Dureno, everybody stopped speaking Spanish and switched to their native dialect, A’ingae. At this point I was a little buzzed, wide eyed, and in awe; all I could do was sit back against the railing and watch the jungle fly by.
The two weeks that I spent with the Cofan were probably some of the craziest times of my life, however, I have never met a more generous or welcoming people. As a culture that has been decimated by greedy western capitalistic culture, they never once directed any animosity towards me. I am using this blog as a look into my head, my journal, not as a platform to argue, so I wont list the many horrific things that have happened to the Cofan due to the fact that their land is rich with oil. Please visit the Cofan site and read the history of this amazing group of people.
view images
No comments:
Post a Comment