Hola from steamy Peru!  We're definitely into the rainy season here, but that hasn't kept us from pursuing "business as usual". We recently got back from a second trip out to Chirik Sacha and the surrounding areas where we added to our knowledge of the medicinal plants sector here in the San Martin region.  So as promised today is about a walk in the woods...

This trip was a two day adventure, including a trip to Huaja, a small village about two hours drive from Tarapoto. As we have found wherever we go here, we were warmly welcomed to the home and farm of a couple living in Huaja.

 Today's trek was all about harvesting one of the medicinal plants in this family's purma.  But first we shared some chicha maiz to refresh ourselves and had a sit together on the bench outside the house. I learned that a term of respect a woman can use for another woman is Nana (pronounced Nya-nya) and that which a woman uses for a man is Turi (pronounced Too-rree).  They mean sister, and brother respectively in Kichwa.  Different terms of respect are used when a man speaks to another man or to a woman.  There is something familiar and endearing yet respectful about these titles, and I enjoyed being referred to this way.  We talked about the problems this couple is having with a fungal infection in their Ajo Sacha (Garlic creeper) plants.  This is the first time they have experienced the problem, and there was a specialist accompanying us to examine the plants and to document their harvest process to see if there were clues as to the source and spread of the problem. We examined leaves from the affected plants, then accompanied them on a short trek to a purma where they harvest medicinal plants. 

We hiked through a clearing behind the house, then up into the bush.  I was immediately aware of how easily you could get lost, as we pushed our way along a near-invisible trail with vines and shrubs entangling our legs and slippery mud beneath the leaves underfoot.     

   
It was cloyingly hot in there where the breeze didn't reach, but the smell of dampness and foliage filled the air.  We hiked only for about 15 minutes or so, and suddenly came to a large clearing, the purma.  A purma is a second-growth forest, either naturally reseeding itself, or having been reseeded with trees and other plants by the owners.

At first glance purmas look like areas of devastation, but on closer examination the riches there are revealed.  In this area many of the medicinal plants grow wild or are planted by medicinal plant producers.

 



Plantain trees are a foundation plant in the purmas.  They are fast-growing trees, and even when small provide shade and the basis of a small micro-ecosystem for plants such as shade-lovers and vines that require support.  Many of these are medicinal plants. Plantain trees also provide their thick, leathery leaves, which the people here use as wraps to put the harvested plants into, and to tear strips off for tying bundles together. 

They can also be pressed into service as sombreros to cover your head from the blazing sun. 






    As we watched and asked questions, the couple harvested medicinal plants.  Nana plucked leaves individually from a different type of medicinal plant and tucked them into the large woven bag she carried with her.  Her husband used a large machete to dig out the plants he was harvesting, as the entire plant is used, roots to leaf tips.     

 


In the tangle of the undergrowth, I had difficulty differentiating one plant from another, but as the pile of harvested plants grew on its bed of plantain leaves, it was obvious the couple knew exactly what they were doing.  We spent the time in the purma taking photos and asking endless questions about the trees and plants.  We also had the opportunity to try Cana, which is a plant used to quench thirst.



It is a large sprawling plant with long narrow leathery leaves and cane-like stems.  The canes contain a slightly citrusy and vaguely sweet sap, which you suck out of the cane.  It's delicious and immediately refreshes. As an added bonus it has large exotic flowers, a feast for the eyes.



 

Within an hour, the harvest was finished, with a large bag full of leaves and a huge pile of harvested plants to show for their efforts.  Turi cut strips of dry plantain leaves and tied his harvest into two big bundles.
 











Nana carried a bundle nearly as large as his, as well as her bag of leaves, and neither of them would hear of being helped. As we picked our way back through the forest on the faint trail, I reflected on what my definition of "hard work" has been to this point. 



People work incredibly hard here to make a living, under difficult circumstances and with the most basic of equipment, yet they don't boast or complain, and are quick to share what they have with us, total strangers.  This cheerful hospitality is one of the things I have consistently found here in Peru, from people in the city of Tarapoto itself, and from the people we visit with in the communities surrounding it. It has caused me to rethink how I perceive hospitality, sharing, labor, and needs versus wants.  Every person I meet here and every experience adds to this renovation-in-progress.


Medicinal plants in their raw, unprocessed form, are sold by weight, so the next stop in the business for today was the river.  We arrived back at the farm, then walked down through a pasture area to the river.  The cool shade and the sound of the water running over rocks was as welcome as an oasis for us, after the heat of the jungle.  The plant bundles were carefully opened on a large boulder, then handfuls of them taken into the water and all dirt washed away. 

Once this task was completed the water was shaken off them and the plants re-bundled to carry back up to the house.  Here they were weighed, then placed carefully into large plastic- coated burlap sacks for shipment. 

 The top is sewn shut by hand to keep out any road dust and the bags are labeled as to the weight, plant type and source.  This harvest was destined to travel the long road back to Tarapoto, where it would be inspected and purchased by Laboratorio Takiwasi for the production of natural medicinal and bath products. 

But that too, is another story.  Next time, I'll feature some of the beautiful and useful plants that are used here for food, medicine and in other aspects of daily life.  The jungle is an incredibly rich source of these necessities, there for the using by people who understand and respect it.  It is pantry, pharmacy, artist's studio and tool-shop to those who live in it.  There's something very right about that.
Until next time mis amigos y amigas, I wish you health and happiness, and hope that these reflections and adventures give you food for thought. It's a rich and lovely world we live in, when we stop long enough to look at it.  The next time you are out and about, do it on foot, and look around you.  Really look.  You will be blessed.

Hola Amigos y Amigas!  Welcome back to Peru, the land of biodiversity and warm-hearted people.  It's been a busy time of learning and teaching for us here, so the blog has been a little delayed. 

One of the incredible views we enjoyed on our trip to Chirik Sacha. 

Now that you've learned a little about cacao and chocolate, I thought I'd pass on a little of what I've learned here about the medicinal plants of Peru.  What I know is a drop in the bucket compared to the wealth of knowledge that exists here, but I am tickled to be able to pass on some of what I have learned. 

The use of medicinal plants in the maintenance of health and in treatment of a wide variety of ailments has been part of the Peruvian culture for millennia.  Most people know at least a little about traditional medicine here, and many are specialists with a profound knowledge of the plants and their relationship to health. This knowledge has been traditionally passed on from generation to generation, and prior to the advent of western medicine here was the source of healing and disease prevention. 



The exquisite bloom of Passion Flower

Medicinal plants, like many natural resources in countries around the world, have been threatened by deforestation and logging, climate change and over-harvesting.  Peru is no exception, but at this point there is a strong initiative here to prevent the ongoing loss of natural resources and to heal the forests.  Medicinal plants, in general, do not grow well in isolation or in cultivated plots like other crops such as corn, potatoes and wheat. They grow naturally in the forest, in clearings or beneath the shade of trees, and the symbiotic relationships within these ecosystems are essential in preserving each of the organisms within them. 

With time and the challenges that have been presented to the forests, many of the medicinal plants that have been used for generations have become increasingly difficult to find and people have had to travel longer distances and search harder to find them. This has resulted in disuse of the plants in daily life and loss of the traditional  knowledge associated with them. 

There has been a movement afoot over the last 20 years or so, to intervene and to preserve not only the forest resources but also cultural wisdom associated with them.  A non-profit organization named Takiwasi Laboratory has played a significant part in this movement, and I will be telling you a lot more about them in future posts.  People in villages in the San Martin region (and elsewhere in Peru) have begun to form associations and to organize in their efforts to preserve their forests and traditional knowledge.  One of these organizations is the Ampik Sacha Association of Medicinal Plants Producers, whose president you met in a previous post.  (See more here) 
We returned recently to visit her and her family again and to get more information on what the association is doing in her area and also to learn more about the plants themselves.

In order to preserve the genetic pool of plants as well as to rebuild the areas of the forests where they are naturally found, the associations work together to educate their communities on the importance of this preservation. They do this through participatory workshops and collective decision-making, facilitated in large part by Takiwasi Laboratory. From these workshops has come the idea of plant nurseries, established in several areas, to actively cultivate seedling medicinal plants to place into the forests.

Nursery demonstration plots

This brings the plants back within reach of those who use them in daily life, preserves the genetic pool of endangered plants and provides the potential for these people also to improve their livelihood through marketing of the plants in the form of quality end products.  We had an opportunity to visit one of these nurseries.  Plants are seeded into small plastic bags where they are nurtured out of direct sun at the nursery until mature enough to plant out into the forests or demonstration plots. 
 

All the work is performed on a volunteer basis by members of the association, and many tasks can be performed by the children or young people in the villages. 












One of many medicinal plants

This brings the knowledge of medicinal plants into the next generation and involves them in an activity important in preserving their environment and livelihood. This

multi-generational focus on these activities is essential in ensuring that the initiatives continue into the future and that knowledge is passed on intact to those future generations of decision-makers. Not only are the seeds of medicinal plants sown, but also the seeds of cultural identity.  There is a real sense of pride surrounding this small but important industry here.






This is but the beginning in the chain of activities involved in the production and marketing of medicinal plants.  Once the plants have been grown to a size where they can be planted out, they are planted in family gardens like this one

 

A family garden

 

and in purmas, which are secondary forest areas.  But more about that in the next post.  We'll take a little trek into the jungle to have a look at where these plants live, after seeding or as they grow wild.  I promise you, what we find there will knock your socks off.  Adios!
 

Ahhh... chocolate!

As promised, today I'm continuing on in the theme of cacao.  Last post was about the raw state, but today is about the finished product, and how a group of women is using it to make a difference in the lives of their families and in their community.

In the happening little town of Chazuta resides an interesting and delicious business called Mishky Cacao.  I have been told that this is Quechua for "Tasty Cocoa" and I can say with absolute certainty that the name suits very well.

Our visit took place at the same time as our visit to the Allima Cacao cooperative that I featured in the last post.  Indeed, they are linked closely.  After our educational and fascinating visit to Allima Cacao we stuffed ourselves into our mototaxis and headed off up the road back into town. On the way up the hill from the plantation, the lead mototaxi hit a deep hole and nearly tipped. 

Our host leaped off the back of the motorcycle he was riding on and heaved the mototaxi upright again, then helped it get up the hill by pushing on the back. The passengers leaned forward as far as they could and the machine managed to get up the remainder of the slope.  Crisis averted, we roared back to town, where we encountered another rocky slope.  Carrying three large Canucks in the machine was obviously more than either machine or driver were accustomed to.  He paused at the base of the hill, surveyed the rocky surface and then shouted and waved away the motorbike and pedestrians on the hill. They scurried for cover, he gunned the engine and we roared and bounced and rocked our way slowly up the hill.  Engine grinding and smoking, tires making popping noises on the rocks and with the three of us laughing hysterically in the back, the driver leaned forward and willed the machine up the slope.  I could see the veins in his neck stand out with the strain, and I am certain he was also grinding his teeth with the effort.  By the time we reached the top of the hill the machine was nearly at a standstill, but we finally bunny-hopped over the lip of the hill and hit the straight-away that took us to our destination. 

Mishky Cacao is housed in a tidy bright pink little building, and you can smell chocolate before you even open the door.  On stepping in, we were greeted like long lost friends by four women inside.  We were embraced heartily, and once introductions were made we were offered chairs to sit on for a presentation. The space was pristine clean, and had a variety of small machines in place for the processing of the cocoa beans.  One was a grinder that processed the perfectly aged beans to a fine powder.

This grinder was small but very effective, and apparently a huge improvement over the previous model in terms of its ability to produce the fine cocoa powder needed.  There was another machine containing a smooth pale brown liquid, in which large paddles constantly mixed and churned.

It smelled heavenly, and turned out to be liquid milk chocolate, being prepared for truffles and candies.  There were also some intact cocoa pods sitting on another machine, presumably for demonstration, along with a pair of greenish and deeply wrinkled large pods of some other type which at first I took to be a different type of cacoa. I was both right and wrong, as I was soon to discover.

 

After some hugging and visiting, one of the women seated us all on plastic chairs and began to tell us about Mishky Cacao.  It was born in 2009 when a group of thirteen women in Chazuta envisioned a business that produced artesanal chocolate products.  It had its humble beginnings in a back yard, without financing and with very few tools. Today it is housed in this small but efficient space, and is thriving.  It produces many types of chocolate products, and more are in the process of being created.

As I was to learn from our hosts, the large green wrinkly dinosaur of a fruit is the Majambo.  It apparently grows freely and with abandon in the same area as cacao.  In fact it is a wild relative of cacao, an ancient fruit that has been consumed by Peruvians since forever.  The fruit inside is yellow when ripe, and the seeds are covered with a sticky fibrous pulp.  The women in the Mishky Cacao cooperative came up with the idea of adding the Majambo fruit to chocolate and a delicacy was born.  The resulting  combination is smooth, buttery and rich, and there are tiny grains of coffee beans along with the delicious creamy majambo.  I have no photographs of this product, happily, because we ate it.  All of it, and quickly.  The seeds of the Majambo are also used, toasted, and have a crunchy nutty flavor, slightly bitter initially and completely addictive. We had an opportunity to ask questions about the processing of the chocolate, and were invited to sample more of the products.  We all purchased chocolate in various forms and types, from 100% pure cocoa to milk chocolate and drinking chocolate.  It is without a doubt the richest and most delicious I have ever tasted.

The women in this cooperative are obviously and understandably proud of what they have accomplished.  They have built a successful business from the ground up and are continuing to grow it.  Most importantly, this little business has improved the quality of life for these women and their families.  Entire families are involved in the process of growing, harvesting, processing and transforming the cacao, from tree to truffle.  It enables women to improve the income of their families, and still to raise their children and be present for them.  We were told that both the men and many of the older children work at the plantations which supply Mishky Cacao with its cocoa beans. It is truly a family affair.  It has also brought a sense of pride and accomplishment not only to the women and their families, but also to the community as a whole.  Somehow that just makes the chocolate taste so much better. 
 

And that is the sweet story I promised you.  Life is sweet, chocolate is one of the things that makes it sweeter.  But the next time you purchase chocolate, think about the work that goes into growing and processing this delicacy.  Instead of slamming any old chocolate bar, go out and choose some high quality, fair-trade chocolate, and savor it.  Let it melt in your mouth and think about the people who depend on it for their livelihood.  What you buy really does matter.


And so we come to the end of another post, another story.  I will be back soon.  Hasta luego, amigos y amigas.

Cacao - Food fit for the gods

One of the things we've had a chance to do while here in Tarapoto is to visit a cacao  (pronounced "ka-kow") plantation in Chazuta that CUSO has been partnered with. Being a farm girl this interested me anyway, but put chocolate on a farm and I AM THERE!  It was a great day in a very interesting little town, as well as another opportunity to see what CUSO is involved with here regarding economic development. 
 
We had an early breakfast and headed out to rent taxis, as it's almost a two hour drive to Chazuta.  Distances are deceiving here if you only look on a map.  Weather, road conditions and pit-stops on the journey can all contribute to a trip unlike the one you planned. 

 

At the taxi depot some mild negotiating took place, and we found ourselves hiring two cars with space for a woman, her rooster, and all of us.  We climbed aboard, rolled down the windows and along with our feathered companion, rumbled off down the road.

We had left early for Chazuta because we had a lot planned for the day, but as luck and Peruvian roads would have it, we were delayed halfway to our destination.

 

 

For those who might be tempted to think that a mere rope is never going to get between you and an open road, a word of warning: the road beyond just isn't.  Not only is it not an open road, it isn't a road.  At all.  In its place is a cratered moonscape of near epic proportions, apparently not an unusual occurrence in this area, especially in the rainy season. While horses and people on foot could and did pass through with impunity, we had to sit this one out, finding a scrap of shade where we could. 

 

 

A sweaty hour later we were on our way again. We bounced our way slowly through the mile-long construction zone, then, with the windows wide open, the remainder of the trip flew by and we arrived at Chazuta in short order. 


Our hosts greeted us at the town office where we were welcomed as the new CUSO voluntarios.  We then enjoyed a discussion on economic development initiatives, much of which could not be heard due to the ongoing excavation of the street outside.  I must admit, however, that with my primitive understanding of Spanish, hearing probably would not have helped significantly.  After sharing a massive bottle of Inca Kola, we stuffed ourselves into mototaxis and headed out of town towards the cacao plantation.

 

Allima Cacao is a cooperative, where the cacao is grown, harvested, processed and sold by members of the co-op. The science behind this process is surprisingly complex. At least to me it was, because I really had NO idea how chocolate came to be.  I was just happy it existed. 

 

Chocolate grows on trees.  Yes, it does.  They are pretty trees, on the squat side, and pruned extensively.  The blossoms are tiny and delicate, and grow directly from the main trunk and branches. 

 

The leaves are copper-colored when young, silky in texture and almost transparent. 
The mature leaves are leathery and dark green with heavy veins. The type of cocoa plant we saw on this plantation grows and produces all the time, while there are other cultivars with a more distinct time for production.

The fruits are oblong, about 8 inches long when mature, and have a thick deeply wrinkled skin, leathery in texture and a deep wine red in color. Some of the fruits can be orange or a lighter red.




                             

          





The fruit is heavy for its size and when mature has a duskiness to the skin, as if it were covered in wax or dust.  It is at this point that it is picked for processing. 

It is hand-harvested, the fruit cut off the tree with a type of pruning shears and placed in a jute bag which the harvester carries on his/her back with a long strap up and around the forehead.  The fruits are handled carefully to prevent bruising.  The harvest is taken as soon as possible to the co-op for processing.  This may in some cases involve a long boat journey and getting the bags down from the growing areas to the river. 
The next stage of harvest is where it gets even more interesting.  The pods are split with a dull machete to avoid damaging the internal seeds or grains.

The seeds and their accompanying jelly are checked to make sure they are healthy-looking and the whole "dough" as it is called, placed in wooden drawers lined with jute.






The dough is covered with plantain leaves and a layer of jute to favor fermentation. 

The seeds are
fermented in their dough for 48 hours in the first drawer, then every 24 hours they are moved to a new drawer, also lined in jute.  Moving is done quickly to avoid heat loss, as even fermentation is necessary for the best chocolate quality. 

                                                                                                   

Once properly fermented, the seeds are laid out in layers about 3" thick on mesh tarps laid over cement slabs.  They dry slowly in the sun.  They are stirred every hour for the first day, then every two hours for the next, to facilitate a slow drying process. 

On the third, fourth and fifth days, they are placed in thinner layers to continue drying, and once they reach a humidity of 7.5% they are ready to process.  They are also stable enough to store at this point.

The seeds are then collected and checked for impurities and defects, and bagged for storage in jute bags.  These are placed off the ground on wooden pallets and stored in warehouses where they are out of the rain but where air circulates freely around the bags. The seeds are quite porous and absorb odors easily so care must be taken in their storage.

From here the cocoa seeds go for processing to be made into cocoa powder and that delicious confection to which many of us are addicted-CHOCOLATE in its many forms... 



But, that is another whole story, and one I will be happy to share with you next time.  For now, my friends, may dreams of fermenting cacao beans fill your heads.  I will return with the rest of this sweet story in my next post. 

Hasta luega!

 

The Secret Garden

Welcome back!  I had a particular subject in mind for this week's blog, and after this weekend I completely changed my mind.  Why?  Because Sunday was the best day yet here in Peru, and needs to be shared with you.  

One of the organizations Murray is working with here is a producer and marketer of high quality medicinal plant products, using traditional medicinal knowledge and plants grown in the San Martin region. They source their plant material through people in local villages who harvest them from the jungle in a sustainable, ecologically-sensitive way, the way in which it has been done for generations.  We were invited to go along on a visit to an area where plants are harvested and to meet one of the families involved in this small but important industry.

Our day began with a 5:45 wakeup and a quick cup of tea before we hopped into a mototaxi and headed to a taxi depot to meet our travelling companion.  By 7 a.m. we were seated on plastic chairs in the depot, waiting for more people to show up, because the cars going to outlying areas don't go half full.  Our traveling companion was going to take his motorcycle to the town, so that left us to take up half a taxi.  Within a half hour, the quota was met, with the other half made up of a gregarious young man still sporting the effects of a night of partying and a woman who (happily) was seated in the back seat with us. We flew out of town heading in a westerly direction, not really knowing where we were going, but our traveling companion had given the taxi driver instructions, so we trusted we were in good hands. 

The roads are shall we say, interesting, around here.  I theorize that there are few or no curve signs on the roads because there is never a long enough straight-away to put one up, and no one cares anyway.  Both sides of the road are put to good use, regardless of who else is on it or which direction you are headed.  The young man in the front seat belted himself in, (an unusual occurrence) which gave me cause for momentary anxiety about the road ahead.  Then I realized it was because he intended to pass out and without the seatbelt he would have been flat out on the driver's lap within moments of our departure.  He slumped in the seat, swaying from side to side, head bobbing, while music blasted on the cd player.  Our cab was very clean and quite new, and the woman in the back seemed not to take offense when the sharp curves threw both Murray and I on top of her.  From time to time the cab driver would elbow the young man off his shoulder and back into place or Murray would reach between the seats and heave him back into place. He snored softly the entire way. The drive lasted about 1 1/2 hours, and took us through several small pueblos on the way. The views are absolutely breathtaking, so I was madly clicking the camera at every opportunity. 

We arrived finally in a small town called San Juan de Sisa, where we unfolded ourselves from the cab and met our travelling companion. He had arranged for a mototaxi to take us the rest of the way to our destination which was Chirik Sacha.  This community is the home of a woman who is the president of the local medicinal plant cooperative in the area, comprised of residents of several surrounding communities.  The cooperative and the work associated with it are solely run by women, whose husbands and families are occupied in other agricultural endeavors. 
Arriving at Chirik Sacha we pulled up in front of a thatch-roofed pole home, and were cheerfully welcomed by a woman, her elderly parents, her husband, and their young daughter. 

We shook hands, embraced and then entered their home.  The first introductions were made, then we sat on a wooden bench and were given cups of chicha to refresh us.  Chicha is a traditional Quechua drink made from fermented corn.  It is not at all sweet, and has a slightly musty, though not unpleasant flavor. As well as the chicha, we were given fresh papaya and oranges from the trees in the back yard which were so juicy and delicious that eating them ended up being a full-body experience. After a few more minutes of conversation and getting to know a little more about this family, and they us, we were invited to go down into the little valley behind their home where fruit and medicinal plants are grown. All the plants are native to the area and grow in a natural micro-ecosystem, here in their "backyard".  Mango and orange trees, avocadoes and papayas grow throughout, side by side with plantain trees. 

Beneath the trees are the medicinal plants, some of them vines, some shrubs and upright flowers, some small ground dwellers and some in the process of becoming trees, a process that
may take up to 40 or 50 years.  We wandered through this wild garden, getting a lesson in the plants and their uses.  Plants for psychological healing, for arthritis, cuts and bruises, and kidney stones.  Plants for improved digestion, for bathing colicky babies to soothe them, and plants with strong antiseptic properties.  Every need is covered in this place, and the knowledge that goes with the use of these plants is handed from generation to generation. 

Following our walk in the garden, we were invited back to the house, and offered lunch. The people here often do not have much in terms of monetary wealth or property, but what they have is generously shared with guests. We were served a delicious meal of chicken, rice and plantain, all cooked with herbs and vegetables that they grow in this garden of theirs.





We sat in the simple kitchen, laughing and sharing the meal, as people do the world over.  Language and cultural differences mean very little when people meet with the goal of understanding and respecting each other, and to share their stories.  We played ball with their little girl, put temporary tattoos of the Canadian flag on her arms, and had an impromptu lesson in how to spin cotton. 
Our broken Spanish was cause for mutual humor, but never ridicule, and we were made to know  that we were most welcome in this home. 
 
After a few hours of visiting, we were invited to join the association of plant producers at a meeting and in their gathering of plants, but on further questioning found that the last of the two taxis out of Sisa would be leaving shortly and if we weren't in it we would be out of luck for a ride back to Tarapoto.  In addition, the skies had turned black and a stiff breeze had come up.  A flurry of consultation between our friend and our host ended with him running into the village to find a mototaxi to take us back to Sisa.  About 5 minutes later he was back, along with a mototaxi willing to drive us up the bumpy road to Sisa.  We said goodbye, with many hugs all around, and were presented with a big bag of starfruit and vegetables, a handmade clay teapot, and a handwoven belt for Murray. As the skies opened up, thunder crashing around us, we scrambled aboard the mototaxi and were admonished that we must come again, and next time for a longer visit.  This is an invitation we are both eager to accept.
 
The ride back to Tarapoto was a quiet one, as we reflected on the day.  The poor woman squeezed in next to us had no choice but to put up with my squashing her on the tight turns of the corkscrew ride back to the city. After many apologies from me, she finally threw a sweater over her head and went to sleep on my shoulder. 
 
And so, my amigos, goes the story of the Secret Garden.  We had a wonderful day exploring the world of traditional medicine and medicinal plants in their natural state.  We had an opportunity to see the importance of traditional medicine in the cultural sense as well as the economic sense. We got a glimpse into the lives of a generous and warm family, and in the process made new friends.  To my way of thinking, that is really the most important part of what we do here- to create relationships and promote understanding between vastly different cultures.  La amistad.  It just doesn't get any better than that.

 

Tarapoto: City of Palms

Tarapoto.  What can I say about Tarapoto?  Well it's everything I expected and nothing like what I expected.  Tarapoto makes Lima look like an elderly lady in sensible shoes.  Hot, humid and incredibly noisy, Tarapoto is a city of pavement and mototaxis.  The palms?  Well they're certainly out there, but nowhere near where we're camped.  I had expected more trees, after all this is the jungle, but in downtown Tarapoto where we're stationed and will be living for the next 6-8 months it's all cement.  That's not to say it doesn't have its appeal.  It does, and I must hasten to add that although it's different than the image we had of it, Tarapoto has not disappointed us.

Some local color

We are still living in a hotel/hostel called the Sol de Selva.  It's a small, intimate family-owned hotel, and as welcoming as a weekend at Grandma's.  The family is gracious and warm, and the hostel itself pristine clean.  We are treated royally here.  Every morning begins downstairs where the group of CUSO volunteers gathers for breakfast and coffee before heading out on our daily rounds of meetings and information gathering.  Pedro, the owner's son, has trained as a chef and makes the most delicious breakfast sandwiches for us every day, full of flavor and color, and served with a cheerful smile.  It will be hard to leave this place and its comforts when our house is ready for us.

This week has been a real eye-opener.  From every perspective.  It's been exciting and exhausting.  The areas CUSO is primarily involved in here in the San Martin area are tourism, cacao (chocolate) production, and medicinal plants.  These sectors are all part of the San Martin region's green initiative, which focuses on developing sustainable agriculture and tourism, while trying to preserve some of the rich traditional culture.  Each day has been crammed with meetings with local organizations that CUSO  works alongside in these sectors.  We have been introduced to dozens of people and had briefings on each organization's focus and challenges.  The network of projects and plans for development and economic growth here is amazing. 

We've enjoyed the novelty of the heat, though admittedly we are wilting by our 3rd or 4th meeting of the day.  And did I mention that all our meetings have been conducted in Spanish, accompanied by a cacophony of hammers, revving motorcycles, construction noise and ringing cellphones?  We have been zooming from meeting to meeting at high speed, stuffed into mototaxis since we arrived.  It's the pause that refreshes, and I look forward to it every time.






















Getting around in a mototaxi is a little like visiting Disneyland.  You just hold on, enjoy the wind in your face and forget about little things like personal space.  

We arrived here with two other new volunteers, one of whom will actually be stationed in Lima with some visits out to the San Martin region. The second is stationed here in Tarapoto with us and he will be working in the tourism development sector. Then there's us, with Murray working with the medicinal plants sector and me looking to plug in where I can be useful.  Another volunteer is due to arrive the end of the month to work in the cacao sector. Throughout the week we've had the pleasure of meeting other volunteers in place here, from CUSO and other non-governmental organizations. 

CUSO's role in international development is integrative, with its volunteers working alongside partner organizations already present in the area.  These partners are involved in micro-financing, small business and cooperatives and specialized areas such as medicinal plants.  They are building from the ground up.  There is so much un-tapped opportunity here, an incredible richness and variety of natural resources existing alongside a profound level of poverty in many areas. The scope of what could and should be done is overwhelming, and we have to keep reminding ourselves that our part is but a small piece in the puzzle.  Each piece looks insignificant alone, but is essential in forming the overall picture.

                       A glimpse of the potential here           

Has it only been a week here?  Feels like we've packed in enough for a month already.  In addition to our packed meeting schedule, we have also travelled out to Moyobamba, a two hour drive from Tarapoto, to visit a nature preserve/ecotourism project, to Chazuta to visit a cacao plantation and chocolate factory as well as a pottery guild, and made a trip to Lamas to see the Italian castle and the coffee house.  Oh yes, and Murray hiked for 6 hours in the jungle with some new friends. 

But those, my friends, are stories for another day.  I leave you with this thought:  the world out there is seldom what you had in mind, but can always be better than you expected.  When next I write I hope we are installed in our new home here in the anthill that is Tarapoto, and I will have more details on the projects we are seeing and becoming involved here in the selva.  Until next time, salud!  Stay frosty amigos!

Life in Peru begins...

We've been in Peru for only 5 days, but what a full five days! We've been staying in a small hotel, called the Casa Kolping.  Each day has looked something like this:
Wake at 6:45, shower and dress then go downstairs to have breakfast with some other volunteers.  Breakfast is crusty rolls, thinly sliced ham, a mild white cheese and local jams that are tasty but which I still cannot identify. The coffee is dark and so strong that it's almost syrupy, and I drink it black with a tiny bit of the coarse brown sugar that is provided.  It's different, but good, and gives a caffeine kick that is much needed to stay awake and focused on what we need to hear each day. 

Coffee, hot and strong.




We then walk the four or five blocks to the CUSO office and begin our training sessions, on safety, health, intercultural relationships, politics and history. Throughout the days we have enjoyed forging new friendships with the other volunteers and staff of CUSO.  I am so very impressed by their dedication and passion, and the variety of life experiences and training that they bring to the table.  I think these relationships will be one of the best things about our time in Peru.

All of our training is conducted in Spanish, which has been an enormous challenge to us, but a good one.  If we are ever to become functional in the language, immersion is the only way.  It's been a crash-course in learning to listen.  Listen to every word, every syllable, every letter.  When the traffic noise overwhelms the words of the speaker, and we appear to be confused, another volunteer or one of the staff steps in and translates the most essential parts.  It's been exhausting, humiliating and exhilarating all at the same time.  We certainly have more Spanish than the day we arrived, but much much less than we require to function well here.  We find ourselves exhausted at the end of each day but we are learning.  The ears are beginning to hear what they need to hear, and the next step is getting the mouth to say what the brain is thinking. 

We have a huge amount of admiration for people who learn another language.  I never thought about how difficult that process is before.  When you think and dream in a language, everything is intuitive, and you search only for the best way to express yourself.  When you are learning another language, you search for the words to say even the simplest thing.  It is a humbling experience to be a person who loves and manipulates words yet finds herself fumbling for the words to say anything at all.  However...I do feel as though I am on the brink of discovering the language, that somehow it's all going to start making sense.  I have many pieces of the puzzle, and now need to start putting them together. 

We have not had much time to discover Lima, with our full days of training.  We have walked a few miles though, and have been impressed with the little we have seen.  It is a city of incredible energy.  You get the sense that chaos is barely restrained.  People shout, laugh and talk loudly.  Horns honk constantly and obnoxiously. Rattling mini-buses stuffed to capacity roar by, belching exhaust fumes.  Money changers exchange currency on the street medians, and they will give you a better exchange rate there than anywhere else in the city, including banks.  So when there's a break in traffic you cross to the median, haul out your money and make the transaction. 

You take your life into your hands trying to cross a street. Yesterday a group of cars was approaching the four-way intersection in front of our hotel, and appeared to be slowing for the stop sign.  After a few days here, I realize that this is an illusion, but I thought I had plenty of time to cross the street.  I stepped out just as the first of the drivers gunned his engine and roared through the intersection.  I did a skip-hop across the road in record time while my wiser companions waited for another break in the traffic.  Speed bumps, traffic signs and stop lights are mere suggestions here, mostly ignored.  Everyone seems to know what to do though, and there is a constant cacophony of horn honking that apparently indicates who goes where and when.  A pedestrian has zero rights here, and if you are crossing you have to dodge the cars turning in front of you or behind you because they will not stop to allow you to pass.  Ever.  Surprisingly though, we have felt safe here, and the city's energy seeps into you rather than drains you.

Looking out the windows of the office, you see across the road a government building where gun licenses are issued. Each day there are long lineups, all day, of men waiting to be admitted to purchase a gun permit.  One of the good jobs here is as a security guard, and guards are ubiquitous, in grocery stores, on the streets, outside of restaurants, stores and banks. Many carry hand weapons, so a gun license is worth standing in line for, all day if necessary.

 

We have discovered some of the delicious foods here.  One of my favorites is a fresh avocado, peeled and halved, then stuffed with a flavorful mixture of chopped chicken, sweet peppers, tomato and cilantro, with a spicy sauce drizzled over it all.  Anticuchos de corazon are also tasty, but not necessarily for everyone.  They are pieces of beef heart, rubbed with a mixture of garlic, aji pepper and cumin.  They are grilled on a skewer, and served with or without a creamy, spicy sauce.  We enjoyed them very much and will certainly have them again.  Chicken is served everywhere, in all forms, as are many of the 4000 varieties of potatoes grown in Peru.  At a small café where we had lunch this week, chicken came in the form of chicken feet soup, apparently tasty and filling according to Murray, but not something I was ready to challenge myself with yet.  There is goat, beef, pork and llama too.  Nothing I have tried so far has been disappointing.  And, happily, (probably luckily) the digestive system has held up to this point.  We shall see if that continues to be the case. I think we will have some interesting culinary adventures here.

 

 

Culinary adventures abound in Lima

 

So, here's what we've learned in our first week here in Peru:

~Energy, noise and boldness characterize Lima. This city with so much history continues to recreate itself.

~We are a very small piece of the CUSO puzzle.  People from all walks of life are contributing to and learning from this type of experience.

~We are in dire need of language learning assistance.  Happily it sounds like a language teacher is being looked for to help us in Tarapoto.

~We are just beginning a great adventure, with many challenges ahead.

Please stay tuned for our next post, which will be coming soon from Tarapoto.  Thank you to everyone who has supported us financially in this and with their prayers and messages of encouragement.  We really couldn't do this without you.  Hasta luego amigos!