how Emberás-ing...
Sorry for the delay. I'm writing this on Tuesday, as you can tell by time stamp. I was away from any sort of internet for the past two days. Let me fill you on the adventures so far starting with what we did Sunday.
We woke at the butt crack of dawn because Daniel wasn't able to figure out when the tour bus was coming to the hotel to pick us up. We went down to the lobby to inquire at about 7am, and found out it was arriving at 8am. Headed back upstairs, rested a little more, then headed back down once again, just as the Aventuras 2000 bus pulled in. Only five other people were on it. Daniel and I took a seat in the way back, and shot some film from there. The driver made a stop at the grocery market for all of us to get supplies for the trip. Found some props for the movie, such as a nice $2 bottle of champagne. Lovely.
Back on the bus, we headed towards the National Park (the name of the park escapes me at the moment...) on a the bumpiest road I've ever travelled on. At some points, the potholes were so severe, i would launch off my seat. I thought I was definitely going to break my ass bone on the way back down.
The bus stopped at the edge of a river, with several Emberás men waiting at canoes. Well, canoes with outboard motors attched to the backs of them. For some history, the Emberá represent one of two linguistic groups (the other is Wounaan (Wounaan clan ain't nothin' to fuck with, I always say)) that are called the Chocóes. Archaeologist believe they emigrated here from Colombia around 1830 and are still practicing the same way of life they have been for thousands of years. Surving near the rivers of the jungle mostly in the Darién province, they fish the rivers, hunt in the jungle, and chop timber to survive. They're actually considered squatters now, since the government declared the area a national park.
Onward. We jumped into the canoe, and since I was carrying the sick ass camera, and looking like the most annoying tourist ever, they let me sit up front. I talked to our indigenous Emberá guide, Samwel (not sure if that's how he actually spells it). Such a lovely person. I know these people live quite a hard life, and have had to give up a lot, but what an extraordinary life it has been. He was wearing the traditional Emberá skirt, and that's about it. The canoe took as down the vast rivers through the jungle, until we reach a smaller part and disembarked. Our hike from there led us to a lovely waterfall and swimming hole. Quite a trek, not that it was far, but again, I was the douchebag carrying this huge ass camera even while hiking. And there wasn't much of a trail as you had to walk through some thigh high streams and over steep slippery boulders.
We shot some things at the waterfall, then made the trek back to the canoe. This time, headed to the Emberá village that Samwel lived in. His village sat on a high embankment on the river, steps leading up from the canoe docking area. As we pulled up, the people came out and began playing music. So yes, the village people came out and sang us a song and no, it was not YMCA (ouch...). Daniel and I were a bit surprised to see that all the women were topless, only a large group of beads and necklaces adorned them, and a small skirt. We quickly got over it though, I think it was more about something unexpected than shock. Nudity as life, not a problem. Nudity as sex, erotica, something totally different.
We were walked up to one of the village huts, most likely just an area for group meals or meetings, above the store areas. Their main form of income is tourism, and they make tons of handmade baskets, flutes, and jewelry. All items were made from the land they live in, the trees, the plants. We had a nice meal of cooked salty plantains and fish in a palm leaf. It was strange to be in this observatory type deck, looking down on all the people, as if they were in a wild animal park. Made me a bit uncomfortable, but we eventually went down to a dance hall area, dirt floor, thatched roof. We were given a speech by an Emberá girl in Spanish about the community. Then, a group of girls, women, boys and men come to the hall hut and perform traditional songs and dances. They didn't seem to enthused about doing it, no doubt because its become only for tourists, and clearly not for actual celebration at the moment. It left a sour taste in our mouths.
Walking around more of the village, some of my suspicions were confirmed. The people we saw, more towards the front of the village, were all dressed in traditional garb. As we walked further back into the village, we saw villagers in typical Westerner garb, t-shirts, shorts, bras, underwear hanging from clothes lines. It depressed me a little, but I suppose they have to give tourists what they expect in order to garner more attention.
We bought a few items, I would've almost felt bad if I hadn't knowing that this was their main source of money. Rain poured down, and went away again. We headed back down to the canoes. They didn't care about our depature, although another group of tourists showed up as we were leaving. Another jaunt in the canoes down the rivers, and back at the bus.
A drive that seemed longer than the way there, we finally returned to the hotel. It was only 3pm!!! We decided to take a nap for a few hours. Then woke up, ate a strange Italian dinner at the hotel, came back, and shot more scenes till pretty damn late. Crashed at 3am. Yikes.
We woke at the butt crack of dawn because Daniel wasn't able to figure out when the tour bus was coming to the hotel to pick us up. We went down to the lobby to inquire at about 7am, and found out it was arriving at 8am. Headed back upstairs, rested a little more, then headed back down once again, just as the Aventuras 2000 bus pulled in. Only five other people were on it. Daniel and I took a seat in the way back, and shot some film from there. The driver made a stop at the grocery market for all of us to get supplies for the trip. Found some props for the movie, such as a nice $2 bottle of champagne. Lovely.
Back on the bus, we headed towards the National Park (the name of the park escapes me at the moment...) on a the bumpiest road I've ever travelled on. At some points, the potholes were so severe, i would launch off my seat. I thought I was definitely going to break my ass bone on the way back down.
The bus stopped at the edge of a river, with several Emberás men waiting at canoes. Well, canoes with outboard motors attched to the backs of them. For some history, the Emberá represent one of two linguistic groups (the other is Wounaan (Wounaan clan ain't nothin' to fuck with, I always say)) that are called the Chocóes. Archaeologist believe they emigrated here from Colombia around 1830 and are still practicing the same way of life they have been for thousands of years. Surving near the rivers of the jungle mostly in the Darién province, they fish the rivers, hunt in the jungle, and chop timber to survive. They're actually considered squatters now, since the government declared the area a national park.
Onward. We jumped into the canoe, and since I was carrying the sick ass camera, and looking like the most annoying tourist ever, they let me sit up front. I talked to our indigenous Emberá guide, Samwel (not sure if that's how he actually spells it). Such a lovely person. I know these people live quite a hard life, and have had to give up a lot, but what an extraordinary life it has been. He was wearing the traditional Emberá skirt, and that's about it. The canoe took as down the vast rivers through the jungle, until we reach a smaller part and disembarked. Our hike from there led us to a lovely waterfall and swimming hole. Quite a trek, not that it was far, but again, I was the douchebag carrying this huge ass camera even while hiking. And there wasn't much of a trail as you had to walk through some thigh high streams and over steep slippery boulders.
We shot some things at the waterfall, then made the trek back to the canoe. This time, headed to the Emberá village that Samwel lived in. His village sat on a high embankment on the river, steps leading up from the canoe docking area. As we pulled up, the people came out and began playing music. So yes, the village people came out and sang us a song and no, it was not YMCA (ouch...). Daniel and I were a bit surprised to see that all the women were topless, only a large group of beads and necklaces adorned them, and a small skirt. We quickly got over it though, I think it was more about something unexpected than shock. Nudity as life, not a problem. Nudity as sex, erotica, something totally different.
We were walked up to one of the village huts, most likely just an area for group meals or meetings, above the store areas. Their main form of income is tourism, and they make tons of handmade baskets, flutes, and jewelry. All items were made from the land they live in, the trees, the plants. We had a nice meal of cooked salty plantains and fish in a palm leaf. It was strange to be in this observatory type deck, looking down on all the people, as if they were in a wild animal park. Made me a bit uncomfortable, but we eventually went down to a dance hall area, dirt floor, thatched roof. We were given a speech by an Emberá girl in Spanish about the community. Then, a group of girls, women, boys and men come to the hall hut and perform traditional songs and dances. They didn't seem to enthused about doing it, no doubt because its become only for tourists, and clearly not for actual celebration at the moment. It left a sour taste in our mouths.
Walking around more of the village, some of my suspicions were confirmed. The people we saw, more towards the front of the village, were all dressed in traditional garb. As we walked further back into the village, we saw villagers in typical Westerner garb, t-shirts, shorts, bras, underwear hanging from clothes lines. It depressed me a little, but I suppose they have to give tourists what they expect in order to garner more attention.
We bought a few items, I would've almost felt bad if I hadn't knowing that this was their main source of money. Rain poured down, and went away again. We headed back down to the canoes. They didn't care about our depature, although another group of tourists showed up as we were leaving. Another jaunt in the canoes down the rivers, and back at the bus.
A drive that seemed longer than the way there, we finally returned to the hotel. It was only 3pm!!! We decided to take a nap for a few hours. Then woke up, ate a strange Italian dinner at the hotel, came back, and shot more scenes till pretty damn late. Crashed at 3am. Yikes.
1 Comments:
bittersweet :P
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