| An Amazon
Christmas Story |
| In The
Colombian Amazon |
| by El Vagabundo |
| December
2004
‘Twas the day
before Christmas.
I stare
out of the front of the boat at an unbroken plain of green. This vast
prairie of water lilies is home to a myriad of birds with exotic names
(tuci-tuci, garza, urututu, tijerilla), spiders and dragonflies of varying
colors and the occasional caiman. Over the river and through the woods.
Not to grandma’s,
this time it was off to Tia Nilsa’s. Down to the end of the Cocha, into
the Rio, up a side creek, through a seemingly endless plain of lily pads
and water lilies. |
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| Picking up
passengers and cargo along the way, a ton of corn, a load of firewood,
two chickens, a dozen chicks, a live pig for someone’s Christmas dinner,
and some butchered pork for ours. Not your average trip to Macy’s for some
last minute Christmas shopping.
The alleged
purpose of the trip was to take Tia back home after she came to town with
some fresh deer meat to sell for Christmas. Cash in hand she buys supplies
(noodles, rice, cooking oil, cigarettes etc.) for her “bodega”, loads them
in the boat, and off we go at 6 a.m. the next morning, the 23rd of December.
Not an easy
trip, the lakes and rivers are in full flood and some of the smaller rivers
are blocked with debris. This means “de-boating” and clearing the mess
by hand. Tio Herman is on the prow; pole in hand, clearing as much as he
can with his cane pole before jumping in and having a go at it.
Four and half
hours later Tia butchers a rooster for lunch; Tio Israel butchers our Christmas
pig. We feast on fresh “rooster noodle soup”, grilled fish and grilled
maduros (ripe bananas). |
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of cold lemonade, (grandpa has just picked the lemons) or cebada (a drink
made from roasted barley), papaya and mangos. An hour later and we’re back
in the boat, headed home through a heavily forested part of the jungle.
After picking up more passengers on the way, we’re home before dark.
Christmas
Comes To The Little Blue House
The level of
poverty in this part of rural America is gut wrenching by U.S. standards.
But we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto. There is a richness and joie d’
vivre here that won’t be soiled with money. The joy of real Christmas,
unmarred by the crass grotesqueries of the Wall Street ad hacks and the
Hollywood pressmen, permeates the air and is electric almost to the touch.
People hurry about in motocarros overloaded with last minute groceries,
beer, liquor, soda, cakes and gifts. |
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| Many of these
people have saved for a year or more for the fiestas tonight and for A?o
Nuevo as well. Each home will have its own fiesta, attendant with vast
amounts of food, liquor, and panetones from Peru, candies, hot chocolate
and dancing to cumbias, salsa and ballenatos until the wee hours of the
morning. It’s hard to tell whether the excitement has spread from child
to adult or vice versa. At midnight all will gather for a chorus of Noche
de Paz and most will sing with smiles on their faces and tears in their
eyes. None will be turned away this night, in the Spirit of the Christ
Child. Neighbors will wander from house to house, sharing food, drink,
music, gifts, gossip and at least one dance.
Two generations
of women (Mama Nanci and her daughter ?a?a Irma) have recently returned
from the Distribuidora with three cases of beer and a case of soda.
After a lunch of pig head and yucca stew, ?a?a cleans house and starts
the Holiday meal while Mama, Nanci and Mami Celia labor over a fire outside
preparing masamora chocolatado, a drink made from yucca root, chocolate
and condensed milk. After the sun goes down, Mama Nanci and ?a?a Irma begin
serving the masamora and panetone, first to the children of the barrio
then to adults. |
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and all who come with cup or bowl in hand are served. At nine the party
starts. As well as Navidad, it also happens to be the birthday of Manuel,
Mama Nanci’s husband. There will be some serious partying tonight. Besides
the beer, leche de monja (Nun’s milk) will be consumed in vast quantities.
It’s made from beaten eggs, condensed milk, sugar and aguardiente, and
is deceptively sweet and smooth. Few will escape the hangover, and most
will sleep from early morning (after breakfast) until late afternoon on
Christmas Day, and the party will continue, sporadically, until after A?o
Nuevo.
The following
is the first article that Vagabundo wrote for the magazine:
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