Demarcation Diaries
30 September 2001
Good Sunday Evening to All,
After 3 days spent in camp number 3, I have been given a break from
the forest. Our last camp is on a short hill, sloping down towards a
small stream, where we spent a lot of time bathing, washing our
clothes and doing our dishes. We had spent the previous three days in a
camp nowhere near fresh water, so no baths were possible, so this
camp was special with several very small pools to splash water on
ourselves. It was still very challenging to take a bath in the stagnant
water, but much, much better than nothing.
There were two distinct characteristics about this camp. One was its
location in relation to the helicopter landing pad we cleared. We
found a place that was easy to clear, with minimum trees.
But, the camping spot was a wicked walk through mud, streams,
tree roots, vines, and "needle-trees" that have filled all our hands
with splinters. These trees actually have long, black needles
sticking at an angle upwards coming straight out of the trunk of the
tree. They blend into the color of the tree, so, in the midst of
stumbling through the roots and vines and streams, it is always
tempting to grab hold of these trees for support. Big mistake! We
have all done it, yelling in pain, and then carefully removing five to
10 needles from our hands. This walk from landing pad to camp was
like a dream: murky, thick with foliage, sunk down low in the forest and
dark; like a bad dream. But, as usual in the Amazon, completely
beautiful within its intimidation.
The other feature the last three days was the rain and wind storms.
In the jungle, it is easy to hear the roll of thunder far, far away
before the clouds even arrive. It is as if it is a rolling ball
across all the forest floor, warning you that a sudden temperature,
wind, and precipitation change is going to happen soon. I first think
of the wonderful hard wind that comes, because it is a huge relief
from the humid heat. It is always a cool wind, strong and sudden.
This time, just two days ago, it arrived a few minutes after the
first roll of thunder. This is when I realized that the forest is
full of dead wood as well as live wood. The first gust of wind
knocked over at least four trees that I counted. Big trees! These were
no small branches, although a few of those fell as well. Huge cracking, then crashing sounds all around us. Just as I was taking a
big sigh, feeling the cool wind, I suddenly had to do a quick check
for a big live tree to stand under. Two gusts of wind later, a few
more branches to the ground, and the first of four rain storms in two
days arrived. Our mud path to the landing pad got muddier, deeper,
and wetter. I took a much-needed shower in the huge drops of
rain. I went from hot and sweaty, to cold and clean in five minutes.
Sometimes the rain clears the bugs away, other times, it brings them
out in huge numbers. These were bug-clearing rains, so our nights
were fairly bug-free. Muddy, wet, humid, stuffy....but, bug free.
The coolness does seem to calm us all down a bit. The Deni men are
very comfortable after the rains, it is an obvious relief to us all.
Many of us sit near the fire, and listen to the rainwater fall from
the leaves for hours after the rain has stopped. Torrential downpour
for 15 minutes, then dripping for 3 hours.
Now, I have been removed from the camp for two days of rest, then we
will begin to rotate people around to get a feel for the other
projects, the other Deni, and other Deni territory. There is no way,
from the sky, that you can tell the depth of this place. To know what
is inside, then to fly over it, is like a huge deception, a pretty
green carpet over a mass of complicated life. The rest of my team is
there now, taking off one day at a time, waiting for the next hurdle. The
Deni are in their world, comfortable with every sound, smell, tree,
path, stream, animal that they run across. We are in their back yard,
and we can tell that. They know every valley, turn, riverbed, stream
we come to or are coming to. One of the men arrived after a day's
journey straight to our camp, never having seen us before, just given
walking instructions from a friend. He did not use our demarcation
trail, he used his own trail, which consists of years of memorizing
stream beds and trees. The fact that each year the water rises and
falls again is no deterrent to them, they navigate by hill and valley.
A true forest people, an honor to be here for me.
I have had a chance to wash up, clean up and rest. In one day, I
will return and give another person a break. We will restructure some
of our teams, and dive back in. That is how it feels, like I will be
diving back in, completely submerged and isolated in the trees. It is
true that if I wander 10 yards from the group, I am lost, the forest
is loud, I can hear no one except the forest life. Needless to say,
we stick together. I am a visitor meant only to see, not to touch. I
can agree to those rules.
Until the next phase... from the edge of the forest pool,
Bryan
(Team A)
Find out about the different
volunteers on the demarcation project.
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