May 20, 2017

Saturday, last day of the week.
It's nice that you can take your time getting up here. The principle is that you do your thing when you feel like it. Or not. You can do whatever you want. As a volunteer, I am not exempt from that. No te preocupas!
I'm curious about what's happening in the village ahead and I'm heading out after taking two undershirts and a few socks to wash. Today I'm going to ask Maria if I can use her 'washing machine.' It's a trough and next to it is a flat, slightly sloping part where you can spread out the laundry, treat it with detergent, brush and beat it.
There is a lot of activity in the village ahead. The men are working on adding boards from the forest next to the pool to the village square. Hard work that is done with a horse, but also with raw muscle power. I think about my soon-to-be 53 years and decide to go to the greenhouse. I'm still working on sorting out the old black bags. That means getting rid of old plant remains, removing weeds, and filling them with fresh soil. The fresh soil comes from bags that are no longer usable. After that, I neatly arrange them in the greenhouse.
As it starts to rain, I return under the roof of the tienda and write my report for the blog. Meanwhile, the men here continue to work, despite the heavy rain. Maria wants to bring me breakfast, but Nakim already did that an hour ago. She just went to the village with Tzamarenda. He returned from Quito, she is probably from Palora. Today, the chief of all Shuar is coming to visit, Tzama tells me. He is holding a short meeting on the village square, explaining what needs to be done, with everyone able to have a say and contribute. Then the rain starts again and we retreat under the awning of the nearest house.
He and his son Nanki then drive away in a pickup truck, probably to pick up the Shuar president at holen.in. I stay sitting under the roof in the rain. The kids play around with their mobile phones. Also here.
Actually, I could do the laundry now. After a few hesitant thoughts, I ask Maria. Sure, no problem. So I wash my two undershirts and the socks. Since I don't have any laundry detergent, I use my shower gel, which I brought along in anticipation. After what feels like half an hour, I head back to my accommodation to hang up the laundry. Spend one or two hours chilling in the hammock, pondering my thoughts. You can do that here.
So around four o'clock, I'm back, working again until the rain ends, and then I go to the tienda. The new movie with The Magnificent Seven is playing there, starring Denzel Washington. The kids watching violent movies is not taken seriously here. Just before the finale, when the Chinese guy is about to breathe his last and buenas noches has been swept away by a volley from the church tower, a car arrives. And now things happen quickly. The movie is turned off, the benches are arranged, and the people quickly sit in the spectator seats. The president of the Shuar arrives, accompanied by some companions, family members, who knows. He shakes hands with everyone, wishes them buenas tardes, and then sits in the chair assigned to him. Immediately, a bowl of chicha is offered to him, another one makes its rounds, first with the guests, then with the present villagers.

He says a few words. Then Tzamarenda speaks. In Shuar. I don't understand anything except that he is expressing himself very vehemently. The Shuar chief listens more or less interestedly. Tzama switches to Castilian, and I understand that it's about the concerns of the Shuar. He mentions an organization of indigenous people, similar to the UN, and an embassy of the Shuar in Brussels. Yes, Tzama has big visions, and I have come to realize that he knows how to play the diplomacy game. He has many talents. He is certainly the right leader for the organization of all indigenous peoples in Ecuador. Passion, knowledge, and understanding.

During his speech, there are interjections and remarks from the villagers. It's like that here and it's allowed and not considered disturbing, whether it's a man or a woman.
After that, Fidel Tzamarenda speaks up. Tzama's father and the chief of the village. He also speaks in Shuar and also with vehemence. No wonder, his son has the gift of gab.
Then Maria calls us to the table. The nine place settings are quickly taken. I'm not part of it and sneak away.

It pleases me every evening to go to bed. Even though first I have to check the toilet paper roll for frogs and the mosquito net for mosquitoes.
This is a moment I will remember: lying on the bed, the rain pounding outside, and me in just my underwear under the mosquito net. Pleasant temperature at this time, wonderful for falling asleep.
Later on, at some point, I like to crawl under the covers.