Encounter with the Awa - May 2013

Rio Verde Community - Village Square

Shortly after our arrival and shaking hands and exchanging greetings with all of the male adults and many of the children, a meeting was called to order and Pablo was asked to attend. As his friends and guests of the village, we sat in too. We occupied part of the short wood benches fit against the walls of the assembly hall along with about half of the attendees, while the other half sat in plastic chairs arranged in loose rows facing toward the “front” of the hall. The assembly chairman, the village headman and Pablo did most of the speaking, although participation was open to any villager who spoke up. The subjects brought up were villager participation in foundation sponsored projects not being enough to justify funding to the Swiss sponsors; the construction of a new permanent kitchen and

Rio Verde Community - Assembly

dining hall; a project to raise chickens (which apparently had gone fine in another village until the first big festival and then all the chickens and eggs were eaten); and finally a plea to the village adults to learn how to sign their names, important now that banks and government agencies will be changing their regulations as not to allow fingerprints. The meeting was long and I found my attention wandering. Eventually we were asked if we wanted to share any words with the assembly, which I found strange as Pablo had invited us in order that we might learn more about the organisation that will be sponsoring our volunteer visas. I thanked the village for including us in their community, and Oscar simply introduced himself. Lunch was next and one of the female teachers brought us a plate with cooked yuca piled high upon it, and a small dish full of salt. As I finished the spaghetti I had prepared in case vegan food was not available and tasted a yuca, I began to regret having brought food -- the yuca was the most delicious I’ve ever tasted, soft and moist, delicate yet not floury and full of flavour.

Rio Verde Community - Outside the kitchen

Not much happened after lunch except that, as I followed Pablo and two male villagers to photograph the newly constructed chicken coop (as Pablo had forgotten his camera he appointed me his surrogate photographer for the day), one of the men pointed to a white speck on a distant mountain. “Do you see?” he asked. Neither Pablo nor I saw. “That’s where I live,” he explained. Pablo and him discussed for a moment and then Pablo elaborated. “Every day he and his kids walk two hours from there to come to the schools here. They have to cross the Rio Verde but there is no bridge, so they take their clothes off and cross. Almost everyone in the community has to make a daily trip like his.”

Rio Verde Community - Inside the kitchen

Our inspection of the village facilities finished, we said our goodbyes and set out. I asked Pablo how he had come to work with these people. "Do you want the truth or a lie?" he asked back. "The truth, always," I said. "A long time ago I was part of a revolutionary group in Quito," he began. "After a time, the government decided to start brokering deals with some of the groups. People who agreed to the deals became wealthy. I didn't want to make a deal with the government, so they began to harass me and my family. That's when I moved to Otavalo and began working with indigenous peoples to have their rights legally protected. I worked with a group of shamans to have their practice recognised as culturally important. Our efforts were successful and meanwhile Otavalo as a region was prospering. Eventually the groups that had been marginal when I first came were doing well without my help and I decided to leave. I took out a map and looked for the most isolated communities. That's how I found the Awa."

"I wanted to ask you about the contract. There's a lot of reference to drug prevention, both use of and trade in. Is that language included in order to receive funding from government anti-drug programs?"

"No. I don't take any money from the government, I don't want any of the government's money. All of the money we use here comes from our Swiss funders."

"And do you have much help from local activists?"

"Jamie, I've got to tell you that I really don't like activists."

"Why not?"

"The activists have a lot of ideas but when it comes down to action they fall short. Environmental groups come here with two-year projects and when the two-years are up they leave the community with all sorts of problems. Conflicts over power, conflicts over money. Sometimes they leave systems without teaching the community how to use the system and in the end the land is destroyed. Lumber companies, development companies, large agricultural companies -- someone comes in and is able to buy the destroyed land for very little money because the community is fragmented and desperate. That's why I don't like activists, Jamie."

Rio Verde Community - Chicken Coop

We walked for a few minutes in silence, and then he continued. "Three years ago I found out about a group of urban activists in Quito. They dressed like punks, did a lot of a pro-environmental graffiti... I had a lot of hope in them. So, I invited them out here. At first they arrived and stepped into the forest and said, 'Oh, look at all the nature -- it's so wonderful, so beautiful!' We hiked for six hours to one of the villages. When we arrived they couldn't get off their feet fast enough. 'I can't stand all these bugs!', 'What an uncomfortable place!', 'The toilets here are disgusting!' I invited them back to help with some projects here. Not a single one of them came."

Back at the pickup I changed into the fresh pair of clothes I had packed and felt some eyes

Rio Verde Community - Inside the Dining Hall

watching me. I turned around and saw a young girl standing inside of the little wooden hut next to the pickup truck. We had some extra food, so I offered her a banana. Pablo's colleague looked at me. "She doesn't need any of those," he said, and gestured to behind the low wooden wall. I gazed over. There were several bunches of bananas cut straight off the tree; there must have been at least 50 bananas. I grinned sheepishly and waved goodbye.