Camping in Huaylla Belen

So I went on quite an interesting “camping trip” the other weekend. The 4^th graders of the high school in Chocta (who are only 14 because of the different school systems) have been bugging me since I got here to go to Huaylla Belen with them. Huaylla Belen is a famous (in Amazonas) valley with a serpentine river running through it. They convinced me this is the best time to go as there’s less rain (ha!) so we organized, got a teacher on board, packed our bags, and headed out.

            I really didn’t know what to expect but trusted the group of six 14 year olds and a teacher that we’d have a place to sleep and we only need to bring blankets and food. With backpacks stuffed with pots, Tupperware, rice, spaghetti, etc. we got a ride to the river where the “abandoned house we can sleep in” was waiting. When I saw the house from a far, it looked so adorable and peaceful in a beautifully green valley, feet away from the river, like from a fairytale! I got a jolt of excitement, “I can’t believe we’re going to staying here!” Getting closer, it wasn’t’ exactly snow white’s cottage, but it wasn’t terrible. It had a big room with a row of beds and a second little room that looked like it could be the kitchen. We tried to figure out how we’d enter the room with the beds for a few minutes, but then another group arrived with guys who clearly had stayed here before, and jumped into a hole in the roof and came down in the next room to open the door for us. After that, another group of two fishermen showed up. Once it was dark and we had our fire going and freshly caught fish (thanks to the boys) sizzling, another group of 3 tourists arrived. It was kinda cool to meet and chat with different people and even cooler that we were able to trade our spaghetti for the their delicious cecina (dried meat, like beef jerky).

            I had sat in smoke from the campfire too long and went to sleep with a pounding headache and clogged sinuses, regretting I didn’t bring any ibuprofen. I hardly slept on the wooden bed and knew the kids weren’t sleeping cause they were talking, not even in hushed voices, all night long. But when the sun came up, the boys headed out to the river with their fishing nets to catch some breakfast! Yes, we ate fresh trout and either rice or noodles for every meal out there! The boys hardly stopped fishing that day, only taking a break from the water to eat. The girls kept busy cooking, cleaning the dishes, swimming, and playing volleyball. I tried to help cook, but there were all ready too many cooks in the kitchen and these girls are experts that I didn’t even try after the first night. Just enjoyed the day and let the young ones catch fish and cook for me!

            

Complaining of the cold, they decided we’d walk to one of the kid’s godfather’s houses to sleep this time. It was just an hour walk away and towards the way home, so the next morning it’d be quicker getting back home, they convinced me. (The hour part was a lie as I should’ve known by now!) So we packed up our stuff, bid the other visitors goodbye, and headed out. Not 10 minutes in, it began to drizzle. Then pour. Not to mention we were wading through the river every 5 minutes. Sometimes we’d cross at our ankles, but mostly we were crossing up to our thighs, and after it rained for a good half hour, we were crossing a strong rushing river up to our waists, hands linked. I was soaked to the bone but was more focused on not loosing any of the kids, none of who could swim. (In reality, they were much more comfortable with the walk than I was!) I also was super worried about my backpack that weighed a ton pulling me down or my iphone getting wet (easily my most valued possession here). More than once I’d stepped up out of the water to feel the ground giving way due to how much I weighed soaking wet with a 10 pound backpack. It was scary, but the kids were in good spirits and I just kept putting one foot after another distracting myself with my thoughts.

            I mostly thought about how, when I compared these kids to 14 year olds at home, they just seemed years older and way more mature. Why was that? I thought about the weekend we were spending together and realized it’s for a few reasons. Number one, they can do things I can’t. Such as catch and gut fishes, or start a fire in seconds without batting an eye. I chuckled to myself when I try to picture my cousin Max gutting a fish with the ease these kids have. Number two, life on a farm naturally gives one more responsibility and therefore maturity. I wasn’t moving two huge bulls down the street to tie them down in another pasture by myself at 8 years old, but these guys were. I want to raise my kids like that. Not that I wasn’t raised with responsibilities too (make the bed, empty the dishwasher), but there’s something about growing up having to take care of livestock that really builds character! And the third reason these 14 year olds seem years older than those at home, they freaking took care of me that weekend. Not just cooking and fishing for me, but making sure I was okay walking, offering to help carry things for me, making sure I was warm enough, rotating my pants as they dried by the fire. I think it’s silly that my cousin Madison, or Hailey, even Cierra, (and definitely not Taylor) would take care of me like that. I’m the older cousin; I look out for them, not the other way around. For those reasons, its so darn hard for me to tell ages here!

            Finally after walking miles through the valley, it stopped raining and we began going up. And when I say going up, I mean basically climbing straight up a cliff. It was STEEP. Like leading forward on all fours grabbing at shrubbery. Like I couldn’t look down without a lurch in my stomach at the seemingly vertical drop. I preferred crossing the river in the rain! But finally we got to the top where there was a flat clearing with a herd of very interested cows and a shack. Okay, I thought, no way. This is incredible, and the view is taking my breath away, but you’re joking if were supposed to sleep in a falling apart shack surrounded by cows! But no, they weren’t joking. And I just took in the view of the valley below, told myself I was on an adventure, it was one night, and swallowed my tears. Until I looked in my backpack and realized I had exactly zero articles of clothing that were dry. And I wasn’t alone. Hardly any of us had clothes that had survived the rain storm or weren’t the clothes we had swam in earlier that day.  So we were on the top of a mountain with the clouds settling in, the wind very present, the sun nowhere to be found, and no dry clothes. I wrapped myself in my sleeping bag as the girls started a fire and began hanging clothes by it. Despite the situation, we chatted and laughed as Neilit make a delicious hard candy for us from just sugar, water, and a little lime. Then they cooked, we ate, and the seven of us were all snuggled in a bed of hay (literally) by 8pm. In my sleeping bag with only a half dried t-shirt and damp pants, I shivered through the night thankful for the warm bodies on either side of me, my only salvation. I kept my head covered so I wouldn’t feel the wind that blew through the stacks of wood you could hardly call walls. I prayed for sunrise and could’ve cried every time I looked at my watch and it was only 10. Then 10:40. Then 11. Etc. But the sun did rise. I did survive to tell the tale.

            After breakfast, we headed down and up and down and up up up mountain ranges. I may have survived that night, but there’s no way I’m surviving this walk, I thought. Last summer, almost exactly a year ago, I made it to the top of Half Dome in Yosemite. And I won’t say that my feet hurt worse then they did on that last mile to Curry Village, or that a 15 hour walk was worse than a 3 hour one, but I was struggling! More probably, I told myself, from lack of sleep for two nights, and a 42 hour diet of rice, spaghetti, and fish. Plus, unlike on our walk to Half Dome, those kids were FAST and didn’t want to stop for anything. I don’t think they drink water, ever, so no reason for water breaks. They view? Forget it, we weren’t wasting time on photos. But eventually we made it to the road and followed a nice even downhill the rest of the way to civilization. About an hour walk from my warm, dry, bed we caught a ride in a truck and after one of the most testing weekends ever, I about fell asleep right there in the middle seat.