Fabio´s Jungle Adventure continued

I have received several desperate emails--and even a call from the states-- begging me for my next blog entry so you can learn the fate of our fair Fabio. Well, loyal readers, I will attempt to pick up where we left off with our soap opera star and will try to do so with as much energy to provide all the gory details as I did earlier…but after last night´s craziness I´m a little low on fuel this morning. Last nights events are worthy of another 4 page description if I can ever find the time and energy to capture all of its glory.
(continuing where I left off in my last blog entry)
So, Fabio looks up at me with a look of what I think was part surprise-part relief. I eyed him suspiciously and ask him casually, “What´s up?” He launches into a long, drawn-out story about how he really is a student and he really is interested in medicinal plants, and the Waorani culture and he is here for other reasons too…and the reason he couldn´t tell me about them the other day is because they are somewhat private. He launched into a less than articulate explanation about how Correa is viewed with much suspicion in the States…and that with the current political situation well, you know…and the need for his backers to remain on the QT, and you know… reasons that he can´t really talk about it much detail. But he danced around them anyway, saying he also wants to take some video clips of the Waorani communities and the oil company impacts, illegal logging, etc. He eventually got around to admitting that he had family and friends in “positions of power” in Hollywood and he had to protect their identities (you know, given the politics)...and that they are more or less complacent and that he wanted to essentially wake them up to the gravity of these problems and pique their interest with some film footage. He said he wanted to travel in Waorani territory for, oh, say 2 or 3 weeks, or even a month maybe. He didn´t know. Sadly, his Spanish was sub-par. I found myself feeling somewhat protective of my new Waorani friends. I told him that they are more careful about who they allow in their territory because they´ve been so screwed over in the past. I asked him how much he already know about the Waorani, i.e. had he read Savages, seen End of the Spear or the other recent documentary by an independent filmmaker...not to mention read any of the many anthropological studies on them. He said he read ¨part¨ of Savages and that he was somewhat familiar with the Waorani. But he came off pretty clueless. I thought that Fabio was sort of sketchy, but in a more of a naive rather than malevolent way. After finding myself getting a little defensive, I chilled a bit and rationalized in my head that the Waorani needed broad support, and if he truly can shed some light on what is going on in the Amazon, then it is worth giving him the access he seeks. Plus, if what he says is true and a big-time film ever comes of it, I am hoping to see my name on the big screen...in supersmall point size type rapidly scrolling at the end of the credits along with the list of hundreds of others who helped in making the film possible). Right?!?!?
Ironically enough, my organization couldn´t help him. He needed to go to NAWE, the Waorani Nation headquarters in town to get the required paperwork to gain legal access to their territory. The VP of my organization asked me and a young Waorani woman to escort him to the artisanía (handicraft) store and then take him to NAWE. I followed my marching orders and walked the few blocks to the store and not-so-subtly urged him to buy a lot of artesanía (hey, that´s part of my ´job´ is to promote their artisania!). At some point in our previous conversation he had subtly explained that he had “access to resources” to do what he wanted to do, so essentially money wasn´t an object. So, in sales mode, I kept pulling out different things to show him and to explain more about how they are made, etc. I am quite positive that his one-day purchases equalled all of last months sales at the store. As he is perusing the necklaces, woven bags and spears that adorn the walls of the store, he talks about how other kids in Hollywood say they are in to Spiritualism (as is he, too, he says) but they are all lazy and don´t know what is really going on in the world...and that the plight of the Waorani is going to be big...that it is a big story and that they were just clueless, but he was going to help tell the Waorani story...and wake the rest of those slackers up. He kept skipping around subjects. He said he is into chrystals...and reiki...and (repeating himself) Spirituality. He talked briefly about how he had spent the previous two weeks with a Kichwa shaman who had a t.v. (he was somehow shocked by this) trying to learn more about shamanism. The intensity of his convictions seemed sincere enough I guess.
So, from the artisanía store we hopped in a cab to the NAWE office. I had never been to it before. I had been wanting to check it out and was happy to catch a free ride to the building---which was off the beaten path—down one of Puyo´s many unpaved, pot-hole laden roads. The cabbie swerved all over the road trying to avoid driving in the sizable potholes. It is somewhat of a sport it seems. After some confusion with the receptionist when we explained what we were there for and who we wanted to talk to, we were eventually lead up the stairs to a small office where we sat down with the Waorani tourism director and his worn-out almost illegible map in order to plot Fabio´s jungle adventure (p.s. I found out Fabio´s real name, but in order to protect his identity and that of his “high powered Hollywood friends,” I will continue to call him Fabio). The tourism director was very accommodating and offered a few suggestions of places he might want to go. Fabio seemed pretty determined to plot the most difficult, physically demanding and logistically tenuous route possible---one not unlike the infamous one Joe Kane embarked on in Savages...but of course since he hadn´t read the book, he didn´t know this. On paper, it all looked quite simple. You just catch a bus or camioneta (truck) down the Via Auca (literally translated as the Road of the Savages) blazed by the oil companies to the Waorani territories in the West Central portion of their territory. From there, you take a canoe and go via one of the rivers to another Waorani community he pointed to. Fabio insisted on a NON-motorized canoe, which would have to be hand propelled for at least FOUR days, UPSTREAM through one of the more remote (read: snakes, caimans, etc.) portions of the rainforest, including a part of the “intangible” zone where the Tagaeri tribes have threatened to kill anyone that enters their land...before getting to the next main Waorani settlement. From there, he would have to go on foot, hiking—and hacking a trail through the jungle--- at least 13 hours (but my guess it is way more than that) to the other village he pointed to. From there, he could catch a camioneta from one of the oil company camps back to Coca. It was, basically, an insane plan. A bunch of Waorani guys came in to huddle around the map and learn more about what the gringos were up to. They raised their eyebrows when they learned of Fabio´s ambitious agenda, told him about some of the snakes there, and started ticking off some of the basics he would need to bring: rubber boots, lots of repellant, “pastillas,” (which means pills, the catchall Spanish phrase for medicine) flashlight, a tent, food, water... NONE of which Fabio possessed, and little of which he had an interest in purchasing, because, well, he wanted to basically go native. He wanted to do it all as the Waorani traditionally lived. He preferred to go barefoot, because “I spent some time in Africa...” As if by not finishing this sentence it intoned that he was tough enough to trek through Ecuadorian Amazonia sans footwear. I teamed up with the Waorani men to convince him that he really must buy boots. He refused to buy a tent or take a mosquito net, saying that he would just get a hammock, stressing he really wanted to live like the Waorani did. I asked him if he was on Malaria meds. He said no. I asked him if he was at all concerned about contracting malaria. He said no, adding “I heard it wasn´t really in this area.” Uhh........
As we were talking, the clouds cleared and we suddenly had the most spectacular view of the snowcapped Volcan Sangay. Fabio was mesmerized...then quickly pulled out his hollywood issued video camera ´(okay, I don´t really know if it actually came from Hollywood) to capture some images. The view really was quite stunning. And not 5 minutes later, it looked like a plume of smoke puffed out from the top of the volcano. It at least LOOKED like smokey ash coming from it, but I didn´t think that Volcan Sangay (unlike Volcan Tungurahua) was active. Again, Fabio grabbed his camera and got some footage. We were interrupted several times by other random people popping in; we got off topic several different times which inevitably happens. The tourism director wanted to know more about where we were from, get our emails, and ask if we happened to know the 3 other North Americans he knew. The meeting stretched on and on. Finally, someone decided we had better go to town to get supplies for Fabio´s adventure. As we were waiting for a taxi, Fabio gave me a chrystal (no NOT chrystal meth!) as a small token of his appreciation for my help. He explained what type it was, where it came from, and its uses. Pointed up, I could get high off of it. Pointed down, it could help ´ground´ me. Tucked under my pillow, it would augment my dreams. “I doubt I´ll be doing that,” I quipped. “The mefloquine does that quite well already.” I could tell he was sincere in his appreciation for my help. I gave him my email and insisted that he write me and tell me about his trip. I really DO want to know how this story ends! About a dozen Waorani piled in the back of the pickup truck and rode into town to follow Fabio around to the stores to pick up supplies. First we went to buy boots. It is a pretty well known fact that if you´ve got big feet, you´re going to have big problems finding footwear that fits here. Finding a size 45 (about a size 12 American, I think) is virtually impossible. Fabio squeezed his foot into the one size 44 we found, the whole time, I´m thinking “oh, that´s going to hurt.” Rubber boots are part of the rainforest uniform...but they are notoriously uncomfortable. They offer no arch support, and all you do is sweat in them...and they give you blisters. Yeah, Fabio will have fun in those on his 13 hour hike! From there, we went to find a flashlight. The first store offered a crappy plastic one made in China that would have cost a buck in the states...for $8. We wandered some more in search of a more reasonably priced alternative and eventually stopped at the TIA store (which is a chain sort of like a dollar-store version of a Target). The TIA is the only store in town with armed security guards patrolling the place. They make you check your bag when you walk in. Rather than face the hastle, I offered to hold on to Fabio´s stuff while he went inside. Meanwhile Jer stops by and I give him the 20 second recap. Fabio comes out with his purchases, and chats briefly with Jer, in which he says he is excited about “submerging” himself in Waorani culture. Oh boy. From there, two of the Waorani guides, Fabio, and me decide to continue our discussion over a beer. We walk around town trying to find a place to grab a bite and a beer. We wandered aimlessly for a while, because the first two places they took us to were closed. The guides really wanted tilapia. I razzed them about being certified guides (for the jungle, of course) and us not knowing where to go in Puyo. We eventually settled on a little hole in the wall that served Tilapia in traditional Oriente maita style, which is wrapped in leaves and grilled. I have to say that it was the best yuca and tilapia I´ve had so far in Ecuador. As we are eating, Fabio decides to totally unbutton his shirt. It was warm, but not THAT warm! Not that he was unattractive, but his hairy chest was not something I want to see while I was eating, ya know. He asks how long Jer and I have been married. Six years, I reply. “Oh, you must have been pretty young when you got married.” “Uh, yeah, I was 26; I guess that´s pretty young.” “Oh, huh...yeah, I´m thinking about getting married,” he said, without adding anything further. I didn´t press him. Through the course of the conversation, though, I learn that he basically went AWOL at one point---ditching school, leaving his family, etc. to explore the world... AND, it turns out he is only 21. This explains a lot. He was a piece of work, I must say. But despite the cheesiness, I still felt compelled to help the kid out. After Fabio picked up the dinner tab, the guides—via my translation--instructed him to bring a copy of his passport, his supplies, etc to the NAWE office first thing in the morning and they would grant him the paperwork he needed to gain entrance to the territory, and set him up with guides for his journey. By this point it was late and Jeremy was calling to see where the hell I was. I cringed when I looked in my wallet and only had a single $20 bill. (You see, NO ONE has change in this country...for a $5 bill, much less a $20!) Without prompting, Fabio flipped me a Sacajawea dollar coin; I wished him luck, and then I flagged a cab to take me home. I fully expected that to be the last time I saw Fabio. ... But no, he showed up in my office two days later to thank me again and to let me know that he had everything lined up and that he was leaving that afternoon. He said there was some confusion with the planning and the costs involved, but he got it worked out. He said that at first they were going to charge him $2,000 for the trip, but in the end it isn´t costing him anything because the Waorani are really interested in his film project. I admit I felt a little miffed about that. The Waorani want to expand tourism...and here´s a guy who´s willing to pay...and they´re giving him a free ride? But, not missing a beat, I hand him a copy of the grant proposal I had just finished translating, and said, ¨Well, since you have all those resources freed up, maybe you—or some of your friends back in the States—can support the Waorani Women´s project. Here´s their proposal.”
“Yeah,” he says flipping through it. “Cool.” I wished him luck again, and then he was ambled out the door...and into the jungle.