Jun
24
2010
Planting Trees on the Equator, Part Two
Author: Jesse
The first two days this week were spent in the field near the University and Green House finishing machete clearance. Fortunately for my hands, they would be the only two days this week doing such work. Although I did have some skin break, it was more a result of the medical tape from one finger rubbing onto the other. So the options from this point forward were to tape all four or none at all. This work was certainly physical but also rewarding in the same sense; I was finally becoming in tuned with the proper ways to sling and swing this mean knife.
Other than my usual reading, writing, and Spanish lessons with Orlando, I spent some time taking pictures (to further my understanding of my camera) of the volunteer house and its views:
On Wednesday, Clay stayed home while Orlando and I headed to the green house to do some housekeeping work. I readily accepted this break from the machete, and obviously so did my hands. We began by weeding the beds and walkways until, suddenly, Orlando jumped back from where his hands were working to reveal another equis – keeping the victimless Planet Drum streak alive! Last week in the field, Orlando quickly killed his find; but this time he decided we should trap it in a neck-less three liter soda bottle and enlist some curious help from the university to secure it and study it. A quick photo op ensued:
We spent the rest of our day relaxing in the shade or watering every tree in sight – bed or bottle. After all, it is currently dry season here and rain is very hard to come by.
Thursday was also spent at the green house, this time to move the compost pile “down the line” as well as do some cleaning and organizing outside of the house. First, however, we wandered through a nearby farm for an hour in search of new seeds to begin the next round of germination. This aspect of learning something new everyday, while doing it firsthand, was becoming quite fun and valuable. I hope to go home and help my mother and father begin a garden before moving on to my next project in New York City and, ultimately, the West Coast.
After work, a bit of adventure came back to my experience here in South America after taking the first week here to relax and recoup my mind and body. I took a boat taxi and bus, both dangerously packed, to arrive at the village that runs all operations for Isla Corazon (literally shaped) in no more than forty minutes. Receiving a warm welcome, I was told I would be the only one on the tour ($14 solo). We promptly set out on a motor boat to the heart-shaped island. My guided tour was to begin with a Venician-style paddle boat through the 100% natural mangrove:
My guide pointed out red and blue crabs and I began to notice a flurry of avian activity over my head. Leaving the channel, we navigated a left and I was told the names, sexes, mating patterns, and hunting targets and methods of the few thousand birds making their presence felt around me:
We met up with the motor boat which took me to a dock and walking portion of the island to explain some more about the tree types as well as fishing techniques of their community. All in all, the tour was beautiful, interesting, and well worth it. The most thrilling moment came as I decided to walk a half hour instead of wait for the next bus back to San Vincente. As I strolled along, I passed an idle truck and waved “hola”. That same truck then passed me minutes later and asked if I wanted a lift to my destination in the bed. I accepted this common practice, but sat on the rail of the bed like the local across from me instead of inside like a sane person might think safer and more comfortable. I gripped and braced my hands and body while allowing for the endless bumps and breaks in the half paved, half gravel road passing in my peripheral vision. Ten minutes of pure concentration and I walked away unscathed in time for my boat taxi return trip to Bahía with yet another memory etched in my brain.
Friday was, all in all, a preparation day. It began with Orlando and I gathering over a thousand Chitimoya seeds from the streets of Bahía. Each one of these dessert fruits contains about thirty of them which the consumer sucks dry and spits out. Where it is commonly sold we were able to find gold mines full of these coffee bean look-alikes. We sat and squatted and picked for over three long hours – easily my least favorite activity but important nonetheless. That night Clay and I prepared for Saturday and Sunday at Ramon’s beach house in Gorda. Margarita made a delicious shrimp ceviche dinner while I whipped up a large batch of Sangría for the weekend ahead.
The following morning we woke around eight as we had planned to hit “el mercado fresco” around ten and be on our way by eleven to time the low tide right. Costs for the two days and one night, collectively, were thus:
$8.50 food
$4.00 taxi
Nada mas. For the house was one room without electricity and running water. You had a toilet seat and pit out back and a cistern of rainwater to wash dishes and take a bucket bath. My friend, Ramon, and his family also had a family farm nearby which we would hike to later that day. Knowing all this, I had no idea what to (nor did I want to) expect Our cab pulled off a side road ONTO the beach to drive the final two-ish kilometers and we were left in natural silence at the footstep of a scene Henry David Thoreau would be proud of:
The peace and serenity of la naturaleza all around you is enveloping. You feel comfortable and ready to enjoy the lack of industrialized influence. To make things even more separated from the outside world, the crashing waves and rising tide were slowly cutting off access (foot or car) with Bahía and the world as we know it.
While we still had the energy, we set out for a two hour (round trip) hike to the farm to collect tree seeds and munch on some organic food. For being the dry and cloudy season, the equator sun picked the perfect time to show its head and attempt to fry my gringo skin. The rays were so intense that I realized having forgot to put sunscreen on my calves within two minutes. Eyes were alert for serpents on the trail, after a quick warning from Ramon, but mariposas, salamanders, birds, and insects clouded the scene. The final leg of the walk was fifty meters up a forty-five degree incline corn patch to an array of papayas, limes, mani, (more) corn, bananas, and more. We found some shade to rest and converse.
Our trip back was a little more thrilling. Initially, we continued heading deeper into the valley, but the path thickened with overgrowth and vegetation and we began having run-ins with progressively bigger spiders in their webs and on the ground. Changing our minds, we turned around and began making way back to the beach. Halfway along, an equis jumped out of the bushes in pursuit of a salamander and arched to strike when it noticed us peering in from a distance and darted back where it came from – leaving the salamander to fight another day! As this happened in no more than two seconds, pictures were hard to come by; the spiders, however, were photogenic:
Back at the beach we relaxed a bit before embracing the ocean and its waves all to ourselves. Like kids again, we jumped, crashed, dove, and rode the waves until the marine life decided it had had enough of our intrusion. I am unsure about the communication skills of jellyfish, but, as I was being wrapped up and zapped, Clay and Ramon were thrashing wildly to escape at the same exact moment! Never had I swam so fast. My initial thought was that I was either dying or, like in the TV show Friends, we would have to pee on each other to stop the pain! Well neither turned out to be true. My act of ripping the jellyfish in half, almost instantly, helped to avoid the marks Clay and Ramon still had four days on. Another experience in the book.
That evening, we cooked an open-fire dinner, drank a jar of my Sangría, and played cards in the candlelight. We were in bed around 8:30 and awake around 7:00 the next morning – a solid nights sleep considering we slept sheetless and pillowless. After a breakfast spread of instant coffee, scrambled eggs, (with leftovers), and bananas, we spent the morning doing some yard work. The sitting area outside badly needed more space and, thus, some effective walls and levels. In three hours we secured a dozen tree trunk stakes, cut bamboo, and built the first wall. This would, however, be a multi-day (weekend) job.
Nearly noon, we had, at most, two hours to fit in some yoga on the beach and a timid swim to rinse off before beginning our eight kilometer walk back to Bahía in time to beat the rising tide at the point breaks. A perfect culmination to the secluded, nature-filled weekend, our walk was not only peaceful but also an experience on how locals enjoy their Saturday and Sunday. Hawks flew overhead searching for food in the water and blue-footed boobies sat perched on a cliff above us. Was I in an episode for Planet Earth? In my mind, yes! 
