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Last Sunday in Palora

Weşandin: 09.06.2017

June 4, 2017

Sunday here in the selva means going to Palora and posting the blog entries of the past week online. I hope I can do that again daily starting next Friday. In other words, I hope the volunteer apartment at Fundacion Minadores de Suenos has Wi-Fi, or wifi.
By the way, it rained like never before last night. Of course, under the metal roof here, it sounds like you're in the midst of the percussion section of a drums and pipes formation. But really. Still, it's a nice feeling to know that no matter how much it rains, I'm under the metal. However, I wouldn't want to be here when rain is accompanied by wind. I think I would pack all my neatly spread out clothes and materials on the bed into the suitcase and tighten the cape over it. I imagined several times how the metal things would fly away and I would just be lying in the pouring rain. Damn, what are you doing there
Anyways, it wasn't a problem. Only the fact that a drop fell on my nose through the roof and mosquito net worried me a bit. What if it drips onto the neighboring bed, and in larger quantities than here, and exactly onto the camera?
A quick check with a flashlight reassured me, and as is usual here, I eventually drifted off peacefully.
The two neighbors only showed up in the morning. They had returned late to Tawasap and slept in the village because of the rain...
For me, it was the perfect time to get ready to go to Palora. I would call a taxi and go to Palora today.
When I arrived in the village, Nanki and Messed greeted me. Messed had an important appointment today. His father Tzama would ask his potential future wife and her father about marriage. I asked Messed if he knew the woman. Yes. And if he loves her, yes indeed.
Ah, so it's not an arrangement between fathers, but a matter of love where protocol must be followed. I have seen with Nanki and Maria, and with Tzama and Maria Flores, that there is genuine love behind it all. Even though Maria is Tzama's fourth wife and polygamy is common among the Shuar here.
Nanki tells me that I can ride with them. They also have to go to Palora in this matter and they will leave in fifteen minutes.
I should have known.
The fifteen minutes lasted six times as long, and the car - of course driven by Herman - didn't go to Palora, but turned in the opposite direction at Parroquia 16 de Agosto. That's when I made myself loudly noticed in the back - with all the young people of the family - and got off. 10:30 am was a good time. At the latest, a bus would come at eleven. On the other side, Fidel Tzamarenda was sitting. He was also waiting for the bus.
After five minutes, a bus from the Valle Upano company arrived. I gave the cashier a dollar, he gave me back 25 cents, he wanted to continue, but my hand remained open and now he knew that he wasn't dealing with a tourist.
Yes, I had learned, and so to speak, I earned 25 cents.
I settled back in at Sol del Oriente and connected the tablet again. In the meantime, uploading was going pretty fast, even though the wifi is... still not great. But now I know all the steps by heart and I only upload a maximum of two pictures per post. So there was plenty of time to watch what was happening on the street. For example, I recognized four chiefs of the Shuar communities from last Sunday. Occasionally, the restaurant was even full, but I was never asked to order anything else or to free up the table. In the end, I paid a decent amount. Ten dollars for everything: cola, lunch, and coffee. On the first day, I paid only three dollars for everything, but the boss smelled a good deal. I didn't make a big fuss and even thanked and said goodbye. That turned into a longer conversation.
I didn't want to spoil the joy of the 25 cents I earned on the bus!

Back, I tried calling Carlos' taxi. The call went through, but only the answering machine picked up. So I took another one and went back to the village.

Tomorrow work, let's see what, and do laundry. It takes a while for clothes to dry in this humid environment.

Bersiv