La Selva

After this day I sat with the group unnoticed, mostly just watching them play football with my paper and pen, they had adopted the sport and somewhat revitalised the way it’s played. The Huaorani in our village had enormous strong flak jacket feet, the thick bottom layer had grown into dark yellow armour which in some cases had almost reached as high as the ankle bone. The girls played rough rugby football, a large slap bellowed each time the ball whizzed from the kick they’d give the rugby boys back home a run for their money. One player was around 7 months pregnant; they all used their chest to stop the ball, combined with shoulders this also acted as an offensive battering ram.

Penti showed me the ways of their people in what felt like the final time we would go together on another adventure through the selva, he was a very busy man during this celebrations and took me with an armed hunter for what I think was protection. Delicately opening a circular leaf to show the colors of a red caterpillar, before closing it very softly leaving it exactly as he found it. Such a contrast from the flying spears and blood baths witnessed before, to the now soft careful considerations. Before me stood for the second time the enormous ancient tree, this is more than a jungle, it flourishes with wonder, flocks of tropical coloured birds unsettle as they flash colours through the playful monkeys observing our presence, a spiders silhouette lay on a leaf above my head. The silent quicksand  waits to help the tribe claim food, the red leaves serve a purpose to mark trees with petroglyphs, orange and blue butterflies land to investigate and lush green leaves surround us with water drop reflecting the sun. Penti and the hunter that smiles with frowns seem more than interested in my video documentary and when alone with them it feels very different as when filming and not trying to hide the lens when in public. They want to know how many people will view my video, and possibly choose to visit the Huaorani. The writings I’d made lying on my hammock- how many will read this and venture into meet them; ultimately bringing finance to help Penti campaign with the UN for land rights oil and logging.

Arriving back at camp to be greeted by an indigenous Huaorani women who had probably never been out the territory, practically naked she greeted with a smile held up by large raised cheekbones, enormous feet and few remaining teeth encompassed in her scarred face, I wondered what people at work would do if they saw her walk through the doors and log into a PC.

I played the nervous charade joke hoping she’d heard the news, she confirmed as her knees gave into the laughter….
I was back in the community and welcomed well for the beginning of an incredible celebration.