Blessed Time in the Fragile Rainforest

I sat in the shade of a thatched roof, surrounded by walls constructed of branches laced together with leaf fibers, and a floor made from sliced bamboo stalks. Rain clouds dotted the sky while the sun's rays warmed the air. Sweat appeared upon my forehead. A slight breeze stirred from the sheet of paper my hand waved from side to side.

             Small brown faces with deep brown eyes stared back at me. The Achuar children of the Ecuadorian Rainforest, ages three to fifteen, had gathered with our group of ten Americans. We were a part of a Pachamama Alliance cultural exchange, an organization that partners with the Achuars to protect their homeland.  In one of Achuar schoolrooms, children stood and introduced themselves in Spanish, their second language. "Me llamo Patricio," one boy said as he told his name. A fifteen year old girl said, "Me llamo Marisol," and stated her age. After the youngest had sat down, we were next. "Me llamo julie," I said. I told them my age and I heard stifled giggles. Their perception of a fifty-year-old woman is one of frailty and wrinkles and I seemed to belie that image.

            After introductions were completed, we asked questions about their life in the jungle and they, curiously, wanted to know about us. Out of thirty children, only Marisol has seen a TV. Fascinated with my Ipad, groups of the children allowed me to record their movements. Amidst the laughter, they watched the replays. For a moment they were typical American kids drawn to a screen. Watching their surprise, I envisaged a life without TV and was drawn to the simplicity. These children use their imagination to occupy their time with fishing and swimming in the cool water of a nearby watering hole. They enjoy learning especially grammar and mathematics. Both boys and girls love soccer and have created a soccer field with tall sticks outlining the goals. Watching their mothers, the young girls learn to cook over a hot fire, wrapping fish and yucca in palm branches. They use their creativity to make jewelry. The boys weave thatched roofs and baskets along with carving and using blow guns to hunt as their fathers complete their education in the natural world. The rhythm of nature becomes their rhythm, a slow underlying pace that keeps them in the present.  They respect each other and the earth. 

            We then moved outside for a game of soccer. Girls and boys, all barefoot, gathered with a four of the American adults. My heavy boots made walking in the mud bearable, but running a challenge, so I removed them. After dividing the group into two teams, we began. Despite the fact that I didn't speak Spanish and knew only a few words in their native tongue, we played on. Our clapping, high fives and cheers became our common language. Smiles and laughter crossed the barrier and we played as a team, bonded by more similarities than differences.

            Living in the rainforest is not easy. There are challenges, and the elders are concerned for their future.  The Achuars, one of the least exposed indigenousness tribes in South America, are going against tradition and inviting outsiders to experience their way of life in an attempt to stop the slow march of the oil companies into their lands. These visits have profound purpose, a way of exposing foreigners to lessons from the rainforest.

            What have I learned? On reflecting, I realize that the rain forest and nature in general needs protection. I see that my energy consumption is encouraging companies to find additional sources of oil. America has an insatiable need for energy and it is draining the world’s resources. I have decided to do my small part. If we join together, our combined contributions can make a significant impact.

            I plan to serve at least one meatless dinner a week, use air dryers instead of paper towels in public bathrooms, limit paper towel use at home, continue to recycle everything possible, use compact fluorescent light bulbs, bring my coffee mug to Starbucks, use a carwash instead of my hose, take shorter showers, adjust my water heater to a lower setting and carry reusable water bottles. It seems impossible to image that limiting my water usage will affect places thousands of miles from me, but it really does. Will you join me? 

 http://www.charlestonmercury.com/index.php/en/lifestyle/travel/346-blessed-time-in-the-fragile-rainforest

Here are photos that appeared in paper form, but not online.

My bedroom in the rainforest did not have walls. The beds, built on stilts, were covered with a thin pad and mosquito netting. A fire burned over night in the middle of the room to discourage critters from visiting. I found that when it rained, water droplets poured straight downward so even though I was inches from the edge of the thatched roof, I did not get wet.

Mary Sol, Patricio and his brother played frisbee with me. They caught on very quickly. We shared many laughs.

Children gathered with us ten Americans in one of their classrooms. They told us what it's like to live in the rainforest. They were well mannered, good natured children who LOVE to play soccer (football to the rest of the world) I participated in a grand match where many of us high fived and danced when a good shot was made. They were fun to hang around.