Giving a Living to a Life in the Rainforests of Peru

Well it’s now been a week and a half since we’ve left the communities of Chipaota & Chazuta. In our last days there, we attempted to say our goodbyes to all the wonderful people that we had formed relationships with over the past 2.5 months. Needless to say, it was saddening to bid our new friends farewell, not knowing when we might see them again. Such was especially the case for me on the last day as I comforted three young sobbing boys that I had grown quite fond during my stay.

One the many things that this trip has taught me is that the formation and development of relationships with the community with which you are working with is not only personally rewarding, but it is also critical to the success & sustainability of almost any project. I’ve come to realize that when some nonprofit organizations provide support for community development, that they will sometimes operate at such a macro level that they never really have the opportunity to develop intimate relationships with the communities to which they are offering the support. Such was the case with a couple organizations that I encountered this summer, and to me, it is saddening that they are missing out on the richness that such relationships have to offer. This is one of the qualities that I truly appreciate about Nourish International, that it sends not only funding to impoverished communities, but just as importantly, it sends volunteers, volunteers that will forge friendships with people they would have otherwise never have known. My new friends back in Peru, from the lil 10 years old kids to the elderly, hold a very special place in my heart. I will truly miss them while I am away and can’t wait to get back to see them again.

After almost a month of working in the community (two months for the other volunteers) it is time to wrap up what we’ve accomplished and our thoughts about them.   We had our last day in the community on Thursday the 5^th.  Once again, I will focus on the Piassaba group as the other volunteers touch other topics.

One of our biggest goals was creation of a broom factory to house machinery and supplies for the company.  While the factory was not quite set up at time of our departure, we were able to see the first machines set in place and, excitingly, the partial manufacture of the first brooms!  We held a small ceremony in which a substantial portion of the company associates were present, and Lucia, John, and the head of the company talked a bit about the future of the company.  The brooms were made, the ribbon was cut, and drinks were handed around in celebration.  We look forward to pictures as they finish the machinery setup and the construction of a pavilion to complete the factory.

We were also able to create for them a simple logo and present it to them for their approval.  Upon approval, we set about trying to find an iron hot-stamp to incinerate the logo into the wooden “taco” (attachment point for the bristles) of the broom.  Tarapoto did not have the amenities for such a stamp so we left the logo with Lucia to create from iron workshops in Lima.  Meanwhile, we took the initiative to paint a colorful version of the logo onto the front of the first building on their plot of land, and I must say I was quite pleased with its quality!  We hope it will serve as a new face for the company and potential visitors to the community.

Looking back, its heartwarming to think how all the work from the past month came together to help this community get their first communal business started.  From attending meetings and planning, to painting and gathering wood from the forest, and everything in between, I can say for certain that helping this community has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.  Most especially, I will never forget the relationships forged with community members.  I await my departure, but I also leave a piece behind to always remember the impact I made and, more impressionably, the impact made on me.

Writing this last post, bundled up in our hostal in Lima, there are so many things that I would like to reflect upon about this experience and the things I have learned.  It was a really incredible and life-altering summer, as cliché as that may sound.  I feel changed as an individual and am coming away with a very different perspective about what it means to work with people to reduce poverty and what my personal role in this endeavor.  I have learned to see myself as a partner of the people I seek to help and to understand that I am benefiting just as much, if not more, than those I hope to aid.

All things considered, I think that the most important lesson I have taken from this trip has to do with the importance of building relationships with people we worked with.  I would venture to say that the friendships that we cultivated were the most valuable contribution that we made to the communities we were working in as well as the most memorable thing we are taking away from it all.  We had the special opportunity to not just donate money from afar or visit for only a few days but instead to live in solidarity with the people for a few months.  We were there for the sunny and rainy days, for when the electricity went out, for the political parades and festivals.  We got to cook with families, to take care of their babies, to help build roads and buildings.  We spent weeks sitting and talking with people of all ages and social backgrounds, learning about their lives and sharing our experiences from living and studying in the US.  During all of this we were working on the projects with Rainforest Partnership and Nourish as well, building and painting and planning, but the majority of our time was spent just getting to know the people and culture. As the weeks passed we became good friends with many people and found ourselves adopted lovingly into the communities.   When we finally left it was after days of tearful goodbyes and with little kids running behind our van into the dark.  Leaving the community was extremely sad and we left behind many good friends.

I think we went into this experience thinking of the people we were going to help as an amorphous mass of poor Peruvians, faceless examples of poverty waiting to be saved.  However we are leaving with the knowledge that within this tiny niche of the world exist many dynamic and special individuals who have distinct dreams, ideas, and traditions.  Yes, they are poor by some standards, but they are so, so much more than that.  They have a richness of life that we fall far short of in the US, in the care they have for each other, in their connections with the environment, in their traditions. I feel so lucky to be able to call these people my friends and I hope to be able to go back and share more with them in the near future.

This, however, brings me to a second point and something that has been pressing on my mind as I get ready to leave the country.  The issue is when, if ever, will I be able to come back here?  How can it be possible to grow so close to a community and then never in your life go back?  It seems crazy but it is surprisingly easy, as I have learned from some of my past travels.  I always leave with the intention or vague ‘maybe someday’ dream of going back again, however, so far I have yet to re-visit any of the places I’ve gone.  This is something that I really want to change starting this trip.  I am going to really try to go back this time.  The good thing is that I have an extra incentive because I completed my thesis research here and would like to share it with the people I worked with and to use it together to work towards bettering the community.  There is also the possibility of returning to follow-up my research as a part of my graduate studies or working with a non-profit.  I am starting to explore these possibilities now while everything is still fresh in my mind and I am still close with the people in Chazuta and Chipaota.  I know that as soon as my feet hit the ground in the US I will be off and running in a hundred directions and getting back into the chaotic flow of student life.  However I am going to make a conscious effort to continue the work from this summer and to not get too caught up in other things to go back.  This is really important to me.

Thinking back on our time this summer I remember one moment in particular when, as we boated home from Chipaota, I lay back and stared at the huge stars-strewn sky and the mountains and forest reaching towards the waxing moon.  It is easy to feel like I am infinitely small and unimportant compared to how large the world is, to how many people are out there.  But as I think back on my days in the community, of watching the people work together to solve problems and the small successes that we had, I feel like maybe I can be something more.  I see the grinning faces of muddy barefoot children, their malnourished bellies and tiny bodies running towards me offering bananas and flowers, and I feel hope for the future.  Even if I am just one small individual, I know that that hope and those friendships can take me anywhere I want to go.

Until the next adventure!

Adios y gracias por leer.

-Margo

Breaking the scenic but monotonous 40-minute boat ride that usually accompanies our return trip from Chipaota, Lucia (a Peruvian who has been of invaluable help to both us and our partner Rainforest Partnership) enlightened us a bit on how our work here will be sustainable.  Our discussion was exciting, and I will try to summarize some of it here.

First off, what are we doing here?

The native inhabitants of Chipaota (and the surrounding area, including Chazuta) are classified as living in extreme poverty, a classification that is largely measured by economic means.  The work ethic is striking here because despite their situation, never once was I accosted for a direct handout.  Instead, people sell what they can, from opening bodegas with meager supplies to selling you cardboard for a sol or two to pad your motorcycle.

Chipaota’s ethic is no different, and so we are here to give the native inhabitants tools for a new livelihood.  Specifically, we are helping two groups improve their respective businesses.  One group is the “Piassaba broom-making group;” the more established of the two, they’ve already begun work setting up the business and creating plans for management, accounting, and growth.  The other “artisan group” makes baskets and other crafts out of reeds, natural dyes, and other materials.  Much less far along, this group has still made good progress in their planning stages.  For now, I’ll discuss the former further.

What is the Piassaba broom-making group?

Traditionally, the Chipaota inhabitants have either sold meager profits from their farms and perhaps harvested Piassaba fibers from the forest trees and sold them by the kilogram wholesale, the latter being an illegal practice in Peru without proper documentation.  Adding the costs of boat fares for the fibers, land transportation, and paying off police to let them pass, the inhabitants are left with little of their revenue, and so they do it all over again.

The broom-making project is different.  About 40 inhabitants in Chipaota created the broom-making company within the last few years to try and sell their brooms.  Each broom is made with a wooden handle called the “palo”, a wooden “taco” at the bottom, and piassaba bristles.  While bristles come from the fibers of the piassaba tree, the Peruvian government regulates such products differently because they are products with “added value,” meaning effort changed them into something functional, aesthetically pleasing, etc. 

And what of the wooden parts? The question is complicated.  It is not our intention to give a business to the inhabitants so they can deforest their home in a few years.  However, we got a clue as to how the whole system can be sustainable.  Traditionally, inhabitants have used a 2-field crop rotation system every 10-15 years to regenerate nutrients in the soil.  Each time they move to the other field of the forest, they must cut down the trees that have re-grown there and plant their crops.  The inhabitants have no tools to truly make use of these trees, and so they often go to waste; instead, we could provide the tools so they can use the trees for the brooms without viciously creating a system of deforestation.  Whether the wood can sustain the company for 15 years is an unanswered question that will need scrutiny.

So how does the company help the community?

The company itself may not seem to benefit the entire community as a whole, but in fact it does.  First off, instead of selling the fibers illegally to other cities in Peru, inhabitants can sell fibers directly to the company.  No middlemen or government bureaucracies are involved, and the people get to keep a higher portion of their revenue.  Secondly, the management plan makes provisions for growth so that people can join the company later and take a share of profits in a dividend-like system. Naturally, more will be demanded of the latecomers to compensate for the work the original founders are putting into the company.  Thirdly, the company will likely bring jobs to the community, and finally, the plan also makes provisions so that a portion of profits comes back to the community towards projects that benefit everyone: better schools, better equipment, and a better lifestyle.  This last part is most exciting because free trade certification requires just that: a community improvement plan.  Such a title would help the business greatly.

Recently, the broom-making group purchased land to start work with a factory, a motorized saw for woodworking, and a machine for broom making, which should be ready this week.  The artisan group has plans to buy a plot of land on Tuesday, and work has begun to plan their building, design a logo and brand name, and create a business strategy.  Things are picking up fast, and more updates will come as we have them!

Main path through Chipaota

Having left for Peru almost a week ago, I'd like to take an opportunity to update everyone on the present situation in Chipaota:

First off, I'm Ben, and I'm new as a volunteer with Nourish on their international project. Four volunteers left in late May for Chipaota, Peru, with our volunteer Jonathan returning now as I arrive. As I slowly acclimate to the life that the other three have called "home" for well over a month, I realize that life is nothing as I expected...

Overlooking the Pacific Ocean from Miraflores

The four cities where I've stayed in the last week have shown me the wide variety of living situations that life in Peru encompasses. Lima, the capital and city with the international airport, is a huge, bustling metropolis atop a cliff with a breath-taking

Another view from Miraflores, a suburb in Lima

view of the Pacific Ocean. For nearly two days I take in sights and grow accustomed to Peruvian culture, walking around my small suburb and watching in amazement at the hundreds gathered downtown to watch the World Cup finals on a massive outdoor TV.

Plaza de Armas in downtown Lima

Main lobby of our hotel in Tarapoto

From Lima, I travel by plane to the closest city to Chipaota with an airport: Tarapoto. The rest of the group graciously meets me here and shows me around the small city full of "bodegas" (convenience stores), "boticas" (pharmacies), small shops and restaurants. They fervently gather "rare" supplies like cereal, spices and produce from the store, foretelling things to come...

Street in Chazuta

From Tarapoto, the drive to the next city, Chazuta, is a challenge. The road is under construction for the majority of the day, and we wait ‘til evening to traverse it. I try to take in gorgeous scenery as we rattle around in the hired driver's small car, dipping through streams and narrowly missing construction vehicles and other cars. Once in Chazuta, I quickly learn that life here will take some adaptation. I learn to forsake amenities and choose from the limited selection in a city with limited internet and frequent power and water outages. Meanwhile, the other volunteers are eager to show me everything about their life: when to wash clothes, where to get water when the tap isn't running, how to save every "sol" (Peruvian currency, about 2.8 per dollar) on dinner...

Boat ride to Chipaota from Chazuta

And then there's Chipaota. Compared to the other three, this one is by far the smallest. Barely a town, the area is really just a home away from home for most; as their "chacras" (farms) are hours away, they come down mostly for educational and social purposes. Accessible from Chazuta via a 40 minute boat ride, Chipaota greets the rare visitor with a steep climb and a beaten path that cuts through the scattered houses. My first day in the community coincides with a day of hard labor; the broom-making work group has recently bought a plot of communal land for their business, and they start work surrounding it with a fence.

Another look at Chipaota, looking towards river

While chopping at the vegetation with a machete, I get a glimpse of how things work in Chipaota. The other volunteers remark that the turnout today is a good day; it is often difficult to gather all the people of a group due to other commitments, etc. And such is life in Chipaota. We've come mainly to help two groups foster in their respective businesses, one in making brooms from Piassaba fibers and another in making artisan crafts like baskets. But as much as we'd like to simply come and tell them the best way to do things, we can't. We struggle to be accepting to the fact that things here go at their own pace; their culture is not one to simply accept drastic changes so quickly. Community members see their life and economy on the farm as first to the communal business, not realizing its economic implications. With less than a month left, we look towards writing realistic objectives and means of accomplishing them, including helping to set up a factory and machine for the broom-making group, creating a business strategy for the artisans, and coordinating some sort of waste disposal to fix the problem of litter strewn on the streets.

If there’s one thing I've learned here in Peru, it’s that life has its challenges. As one of four motivated volunteers ready to meet them, I'm eager to see what awaits us in the coming weeks.

Note: this blog was written about two weeks ago, but I’ve had difficulty in getting it uploaded due to a poor (or sometimes nonexistent) internet connection.

A decade ago, the District of Chazuta, which encompasses the town of Chazuta and many surrounding indigenous villages (including Chipaota), had an economy that thrived on the production and processing of coca leaves, which apparently was/is common knowledge that such is used for the production of cocaine (though many people are not willing to talk about it now). Six years ago, the district made a concerted effort to transition to an economy that relied on the production of cacao (used of course for the production of chocolate, one of the basic necessities of life).The transition to move away from the drug industry appears to have been quite successful, though poverty is still pervasive in the district. [Above statements are based on casual conversations and general observations]

An interesting note on poverty here in Peru: I rarely encounter people simply asking for a handout, such as the homeless people that we so frequently seen on street corners in the states. That is not to say that begging and such does not occur here. What you will commonly find here are poor individuals offering you something to buy (such as pieces of candy or small packages of gum) or offering you some kind of service (such as shining your shoes, playing music or simply covering your motorcycle seat with cardboard so as to protect it from the blazing sun). I could probably count on one hand the number of individuals I’ve seen here that are simply asking for a handout, and such individuals are usually seriously impaired somehow, with blindness or something of the sort. However, as is always the case, sometimes the people resort to doing things that are…how shall I say…destructive and/or harmful, as was the case with drug industry here. I personally encountered a different situation recently when we traveled to Tununtunumba, a nearby indigenous village, for the San Juan festival.

During our stay in Tununtunumba, I was approached by a young man who lives in the community and who was passionately telling me that he has a monkey at his house that a gringo like me would like to buy. I informed him that even if I wanted to buy the animal, I would not be able to do so for obvious legal reasons. Nevertheless, he insisted that I follow him to his house to see this “monkey.” On the way there, we passed a small group of people who had a small pet monkey tied to a string. When we arrived to his home, I discovered that his “monkey” was a cute, tiny, yet terrified squirrel attached to a string as well. I really wanted to just yank the string off the poor lil fella and let him run away, but somehow I found some restraint. The guy offered again for me to buy the animal, but I declined and walked away. Now I must admit that I do not know how prevalent such activity is there in Tununtunumba or simply in the greater District of Chazuta, but upon having had this experience, I felt very glad to be a part of our current project in Chipaota

I feel like our projects in Chipaota will be quite helpful in various ways. For one, by establishing sustainable & environmentally friendly businesses for this community, we are helping to reinforce the transition away from participating in the drug industry. By providing alternative sources for income, we are also helping to prevent situations like I described above, that of collecting and selling animals from the rainforest. These businesses are designed to help these people find more value in keeping their rainforests standing rather than being cut down, so they are serving to protect the rainforests and the abundant biodiversity within them.  Perhaps more importantly, these businesses will simply help provide income for the families in this village, which in turn will allow them to keep their kids in school and will allow them to receive/pay for health care. As I digress, I just feel so glad to be a part of something like this.

As for our involvement with the development of these businesses, the process has been moving along seemingly very slowly, which is apparently quite normal in Peru- especially in indigenous communities. Many of the simple things that we tend to take for granted in the States as being quick-n-easy are now much more time-consuming. Anyhow, things have been moving particularly slow in the community for various reasons. For instance, it took about a week for us to get introduced into the Chipaota and to gain their approval for working within community. Also, meeting up with the members of the broom-making business and of the artisan group has been somewhat challenging.  Furthermore, some of the community members have homes (very primitive homes…nothing like our homes in the States!) within the main village, and then everyone has a “primary” home (also very primitive) on their chakra (i.e. farm), which are located 1-5 hours in walking distance away from the main village. Hence, it is not an easy to task to simply meet up with the 39 members of the broom-making business or the ~15 members that make up the artisan group.

Nevertheless, after having various meetings with both groups, it appears that the pace is about to hasten. We will be working with both of the groups to build tallers (i.e. workshops) for them to do their work. A piece of land was recently purchased for the broom-making workshop, and another piece of land will hopefully be purchased soon for the artisan group’s workshop. The land for the broom workshop already has two buildings on it. We will be meeting with the leaders of the broom-making business soon to plan how we will modify the buildings to make one large building for the workshop. Also, we will be ordering the broom-making machine soon, which will take about two weeks to make.

As I alluded to above, things tend to get done according to Peruvian time down here, which is a much slower pace than we are accustomed to within the States, and such is even more “severe” when working with indigenous communities (as we have been told by others). The leaders of the broom-making business very excited when I asked them if we (the volunteers) could help with the construction of the workshops. We are making a concerted effort to keep this excitement alive so as to encourage significant momentum and drive within these two groups so as to get their workshops fully constructed & functional by the end of this month. We the volunteers are certainly willing and able to do our part to make this task happen, but much is dependent upon the community (i.e. supplying wood, tools, manpower, initiative, etc) as to whether or not we will finish these workshops before our departure in August. Anyhow, we are feeling quite optimistic and are sure we’ll make some significant progress by August. Stay tuned…more updates coming soon!

Now that we have been down here for about a month it is probably about time to describe the community of Chipaota where the majority of our work is being done.  Chipaota is a small indigenous village about twenty minutes down the river from Chazuta.  To get there we travel in long skinny boats with motors mounted on back, seated along the wooden sides with chickens and platanoes piled about our feet.  Chipaota is marked by a tall concrete staircase that leads up the bank of the river into the community.  Unfortunately, the staircase collapsed after flooding last year so we are forced to clamber up the dusty sides of the hill, passing women washing clothes and children bathing as we go.  After catching our breath we look up to see the beautiful, quaint little village laid out in front of us.  There are no cars or motorcycles here so only a slender foot path cuts through the grass in the center of two rows of thatched wooden houses.  We start along the path and stop at almost every house to shake hands and exchange greetings with the people inside.  In most houses a gourd full of massato (a drink made of fermented yucca, sometimes chewed and spit back in by the maker) is brought out and passed to each of us to drink from.  All of us have a hard time getting through a few sips of this and we struggle to smile and express our thanks without inadvertently being served more.  The people in Chipaota are extremely hospitable and go out of their way to offer us all that they have.  Each time we go we are given fresh coconuts to drink from or glasses of soda or bouquets of flowers from the children.  We are always made to feel and home and it is obvious that the people there really care for us and are happy we are there.

An interesting thing about Chipaota is that every family has a ‘chakra’ (a small plot of land where they grow crops and raise animals) that is located up in the mountains above the community.  The way it works is that there are actually two parts of the village.  There is the newer section that is located right next to the river but there is also an older part (named Chipaota Vieja) that is located roughly an hour walking above the river.  It is in this higher area that each family’s chakra is located and most travel daily from one area to the other.  Everyone in the community was originally located in the higher area but they all decided to move fifteen years ago to be closer to the river so that their children could have access to better education.  Now the norm is to commute back and forth, staying intermittently in both places.  Just yesterday we had the opportunity to go up and stay the night in Chipaota Vieja and we had a really great time getting to know the deeper jungle there.

We are slowly but surely getting started on the projects that we came here to work on, including working with the group that makes brooms as well as the artisan group.  We have spent the last few weeks getting to know the people in each group and attending meetings to better understand how things work.  Both groups seem well-organized and there are energized individuals who want to see these alternative means of income succeed.  We are still figuring out just how we may be able to help to achieve this goal. The next month we spend here should be more focused on planning sessions with the groups and coordinating to get workshops built for both groups.  We have also started to teach informal English classes in Chazuta and hope to do the same for school children in Chipaota who receive no language instruction.  Our overarching mission is to truly immerse ourselves in the culture and community here and to give back in whatever ways that we can.  This is just as much a learning experience for us as for those we are working with.

We finally made it to Chazuta, the "city" where we will stay most of the time. Chazuta makes Tarapoto look like a thriving metropolis with many (not all) paved roads and throngs of motorbikes flooding the street. Chazuta can be described as a little town on the river with a main unpaved road (avenida chazuta - how appropriate). There's a plaza at the end of the street with a greater variety of stores. There's a back road that parallels avenida Chazuta and serves the residential area. Of coarse there are more roads and facets of the town, but those are just the main roads.

The hotel is probably the most luxurious place to live in the town. Running water is only available early in the morning or at night. What makes this place so luxurious is the fact that the bathrooms have actual toilets (like a toilet bowl and a water tank). To compensate for the lack of running water, the hotel people put a big bucket under a single spigot which seems to be the only one that has water throughout the day. When you're done using the toilet, you just take a small bucket of water and pour it into the toilet bowl to flush (unless you're the lucky first user of the day).

In Chazuta, prices are even cheaper than in Tarapoto. You can get a full meal for 3 or 4 soles: roughly 1 to 2 dollars. Another unique Chazuta experience is when there was a blackout (which is not uncommon here). This is where I must give thanks to Uncle Duane for the awesome flashlight (the mini maglight). Of the Nourish volunteers, my flashlight was the brightest, had the greatest distance, and had a candle light option (where you unscrew the mirror/lens head to reveal the LED - very useful for illuminating a room… or when you're taking a "shower" in the dark).

Speaking of shower, since there was no running water from the blackout, I had to do the old-fashioned "scoop from a bucket" routine… in the dark. It was a really humbling experience, and it made me realize how little water we actually need throughout the day… the things we take for granted… I have to be grateful though, because I could have had to take a shower in total darkness.

In Tarapoto, we couldn't really hang up a mosquito net, so I woke up one day with three bites on my left index finger. Needless to say, it was quite swollen. But in Chazuta we can! So yay for that! In retrospect, however, that´s nothing compared to the 50 something bites on my body (excluding my back and neck; I counted). Next time, I´ll consider bathing in bugspray.

The weather is definitely something in Chazuta. One minute the sun is beating down on you from a cloudless sky, and the next grey clouds are saturating the ground with water, and then the clouds go away. When the weather decides that it actually wants to rain, the unpaved streets turn into mud (yay rubber boots!)

Random things I noticed:

This past Saturday morning we woke before dawn, scrambling bleary-eyed to brush teeth and cram miscellaneous items into our bulging packs.  We piled our bags on top of a tiny, worn-out sedan and set off for the town of Chazuta.  In the wee hours of the morning Tarapoto seemed almost peaceful with only one or two stray motorcycles wandering the roads and a notable absence of blaring music.  We departed so early for Chazuta because the road that connects it to Tarapoto is under construction, meaning that cars can only pass between the hours of 6:30 pm and 6:30 am.  The hour and a half journey bumps chaotically over the mountains and drops gradually into what can truly be called ‘jungle’, where dark tangled trees saturate the land and a huge muddy river pulses below.   On the way we narrowly dodged oncoming traffic barreling in the opposite direction on the one-lane road and had to stop while our driver fixed a flat back tire.  Fortunately the breathtaking scenery and low-floating clouds reflecting the sunrise were enough to calm our frazzled nerves.  It wasn’t until later that we heard a story about how, just two weeks prior, a four-by-four carrying five passengers slipped off the road and went flipping down to the river below, chucking three of the passengers free and taking the other two into the water.  As if that isn’t scary enough, the car and the two people sank and still can’t be found!  A little unsettling, to say the least.

                We arrived safely to Chazuta at about seven in the morning and drove along the main street which runs parallel to and sits directly along the Huallaga River.  Compared to Tarapoto, Chazuta seems small, poor, and dusty, though much more beautiful and tranquil.  We got dropped off at a nice little ‘hotel’, named Los Cedros (The Ceders), which is unlike anything I have ever seen but very pretty in its own way.  It is completely open and full of plants with dirt and wood floors and some little wooden rooms that remind me of cabins. There are only one or two other people staying here besides ourselves so we pretty much have the place to ourselves.  The only real difficulty is that there is only running water early in the morning or late at night, so we are learning very quickly how to bucket shower and manually flush toilets.  However this is only a small inconvenience, especially as the price (roughly $45 a month per person) is so agreeable.  We are moving around furniture and cleaning a bit as we unpack our things and get settled for the next two months.

                Quickly after we arrived to the hotel on the first day there was some commotion in the street and then a parade, led by small children waving white flags, began to pour through the town.  There were people from many of the indigenous communities just down the river (including Chipaota) dressed in traditional clothing and chanting and beating drums.  They were marching to mark the one-year anniversary of the deaths of about forty indigenous people and local police who were killed by the government when protesting the entrance of big companies into the forest.  We followed the parade in the scorching sun and, once they reached the central plaza, listened to a few speakers talking about how important it was to commemorate the deaths and to maintain resistance through peaceful protest.  It was a really moving event for us to see right off the bat and gave us some insights into the struggles that persist in this area.   I hope to learn more about this over the course of the summer.

                We will finally get to visit Chipaota, the community we will be working in, on Wednesday when Lucia, the awesome Peruvian coordinator of the Rainforest Partnership, comes back down from Tarapoto.  For now we are just getting more accustomed to our surroundings and to the day-to-day life here.  We walked to a smaller river today and swam around between the many people washing their clothes and children washing each other’s hair and jumping off of rocks into the shallow water.  Just down the way some men had driven their cars into the river to be washed.  It is hard to watch so many heavy soaps and chemicals mix with the water and get carried down to the Huallaga.  This is just such a beautiful place and it is hard for us, as privileged outsiders, to fathom doing such a thing.  However it is clear that for these people this is just how life is and the river is the most convenient option.  There is not really an understanding of the detrimental effects of such chemicals and, even where there is, necessity takes precedence.   Similarly the people here eat massive amounts of fried foods (chicken, platanos, etc.) that would make people in the US cringe.  However this is what has traditionally been made and what is affordable, so it continues.  We are getting acclimated to it quickly enough, though, and I am already craving the fried sweet platanos that we will probably cook up for dinner.

For now it is off to find some coconut popsicles and a nice cold shower…

Hasta luego amigos!

- “Cuanto cuesta?” = How much is it?

- “Diez soles” = Ten soles (1 sol = 0.40 US dollars)

- “Le doy nueve soles” = I’ll give you nine soles

- “Esta bien” = Ok

Such is the typical conversation I’ve noticed here in Peru. Whether you are getting a cab or buying something at the market, there is almost always a brief tug-a-war over the price of the commodity. In a sense, it is quite comical that we (as in, the locals and foreigners as well) will go through this process merely for the sake of a sol (i.e. 40 cents). Sometimes the savings is more substantial and one can save up to 10 soles ($4) as I did today when I bought a pair of sandals.

While in Lima, a good meal at a nice restaurant (as in something akin to Red Lobster) might cost you about 20 soles ($8), though if you asked around, one could certainly find quite tasty meals for under 10 soles ($4). As predicted by Margo who has prior experience traveling in Latin America, it did not take long for us volunteers to become acclimated to this new culture and to redefine the value of money.

Suddenly, things that we would have considered to be a fair price in the US became expensive. Here, it has become a big deal to spend more than 10 soles on a meal (and this would be at a sit-down restaurant where you get a waiter, not a fast-food joint). Here, we bargain for a couple soles (less than $1) before taking a cab somewhere, yet in US we’d simply have to pay 4 or 5 times the entire costs for an equivalent cab ride. We volunteers have even laughed at ourselves once or twice over haggling over one or two soles for a cab ride.   

This behavior is somewhat difficult for me to completely understand. I certainly am aware that some people, especially us volunteers, are on a budget and cannot afford to waste money, but sometimes this behavior seems to be somewhat…excessive…dramatic…unnecessary. Like I said, sometimes we haggle over 1 sol (40 cents) with a cab ride. However, I think that such seemingly benign decisions (i.e. the choice one makes to bargain the price down as low as possible) have important implications that should be considered more in depth.  

My personal feelings/thoughts on the matter is that this “heckling-for-the-lowest-possible-price” behavior is somehow contributing to the impoverished condition in which Latin America continues to live. I do realize that the impoverished situation within Latin America is very complicated and that the contributing factors are numerous. However, it does not take an expert in the fields of business and economics to understand the basic principles of running a business for the purpose of making a profit in order to be able to support yourself (and perhaps your family as well).

Imagine that you are a business person and that you are selling a commodity for $4 or 10 soles. Now let’s say that it cost you $3.20 or 8 soles to pay for your commodity. And now let’s say a guy comes along and offers 9 soles for your commodity. You, being the desperate person in need of many to take care of the family, must decide if say no and risk losing the customer. If you agree, then you’ve just cut your profit in half, going from 2 soles to 1 sol. And perhaps the situation is more complex (as is often the case).  The business person does not simply have the cost of the commodity that he/she is selling. There are fixed costs to be considered (such as rent & taxes), as well as variable costs (such as paying employees, utilities & supplies).

Obviously, I have made a fair amount of assumptions/generalizations and that such a topic is truly worthy of a much more in-depth analysis. However, I still assert that we as consumers possess a purchasing power and that the manner in which that power is utilized does in fact have consequences. In the US, the power comes in the form of the decision to buy or not buy. Here in Latin America, such power is taken a step further by giving the consumer the ability to bargain for a suitable price. But why do these business men/women here in Latin America allow such a thing (i.e. relinquishing more power to the consumer) when it seems to be to their disadvantage?

I believe that the truth of the matter is that they are simply poor and are desperate to earn anything at all. These people would rather make a sale that brings a tiny profit than simply lose the sale altogether.

So this is where I invite you, the reader, to participate and ask for your feedback. What do you see as part of the solution? Should Latin America conform more to a system similar to the US, such as having fixed prices that don’t allow for bargaining? How would the informal economy be integrated into such a scheme? Or do you disagree with what I’ve stated above and believe that this bargaining process is somehow helping the economic situation here in Latin America? What are your thoughts on the matter?