Peru 05/15/07

Peru Day 2:
The road was long and bouncy. 3.5-4 hours one way. 4 wheel drive 80% of the time. While it was a beautiful drive, meandering along the Huallaga River, it was long. Very long. And at times, somewhat sketchy. It took an hour or more for the sky to show signs of its lighter shades. But as the sun pulled his way up over the horizon, the ceiling of the earth became adorned in pastel brush strokes. The contrast of shadowed mountain and its ridge to the enlightening contrary above was postcard material.

The jungle of Peru is gorgeous. The mountains green and lush. More remote and untouched in comparison to other areas i've been. A cloud forest, the whispy pulled cotton clouds hover in and above the arboreal canopy and in the valleys that trickle into the main artery of the Huallaga. We pass small rice and banana farms, fed by the Huallaga, pushing its way thru the bedrock. At times traveling atop vistas that give us a gaze of the expansive valley. Other times, we are hugging the vertical bedrock.

Its apparent, as we drive thru roads that have been scraped from the mountain sides, that the vast majority of the ground is made up of river rock with some dirt inbetween and some good topsoil above. My imagination flirts with the time of when the river rose more than 400ft above its current height to deposit all of these rocks, smoothed by the tumbling and stroking of the rushing water. That must have been a site. Probably thousands or even millions of years ago. A river, perhaps a mile wide, owning the landscape.

400 ft straight below is the river and we're driving on a muddy road that is about 8ft wide. And this mud is MUD. Slick as soap and about a foot deep. Slick as soap. Slick as soap. One more time, slick as soap. Luckily we have 4 wheel drive and Jose, the driver and host from Romero Trading, is respectful of the gringos and is taking his time, driving at a snails pace at times. Making sure we dont accidentily slide then tumble down into the brown water below.
We come to Juanji. A small town where the cacao from the outlying regions are brought for weighing and warehousing until a truck can come from Chincha. It takes 3 days to get the cacao from here back to Chincha. At times, the road is not passable due to the rains. 3 days to get the cacao from the bush to a town where it can be consolidated with even more regions and finally brought to Lima or Callao for processing or shipping.

After passing on these roads, i am in awe of the transit this bean goes thru to get to our mouths. Farmers hauling cacao via burro, up to 10 kilometers, to the collection center. Then 3 days via truck over roads that would be illegal in the US, which leads to another collection center. Then 3 more days to the coast for export. Incredible.

We come to Rio Abiseo National Park. We drive and Jose tells us of of the Chachapoyas; a tribe of indians that were never conquered by the Incas. Fierce fighters and making their dwellings even more remote than the incas, they remained an independent culture of the Incan Empire, until the Spaniards came and conquered with disease, steel and deception.
We continue on our way to the farms.

We finally arrive to a very small town... actually, its not even a town. Its more like a crossroads with a few rows of buildings. No, its a town. Its name I forget. We are told that this is a relatively newly established town; perhaps 15 years old. The government was giving land away to be settled and cultivated. These cultivators came to grow. First coca. Now, they grow cacao.

From here, we will visit 4 farms.

The first farm we visit, in transition to becoming certified organic, is about 2.5 hectares and is a mix of about 3 varieties of cacao; the dominant being CCN-51. The trees were planted 5 years ago and the trees were impressive. Intermixed with citrus, banana, plantain and legumes, the trees appear very happy and well attended. I eat a couple freshly plucked oranges which revitalize my weary early morning clogged mind.

After about an hour of walking the farm, we move onto the next, which has a similar mix of cacao varieties and other tree crops. This farm has plantings of a cacao variety by the name of EC-95. A clone of mixed genetics, this particular farm has clones that visually indicate strong Criollo genetics; bottle neck top, elongated narrower body, long curving nipple. We pause and drink fresh coconut water, direct from the fruit. I drink 3. I could have drank 10.
We move onto the next two farms, which is located in a small village by the name of Alto Sol; accessible by crossing a river via motorized canoe.

The river is a pretty classic lazy river. While large, its constant flow, without rapids, eases the sensory of sight. I sit on the bank for a quick moment and catch sight of an object moving in paradox to the flow. Its coming towards the shore. Upon closer and more studied look, its a dog. This dog is swimming across the river! I don't even know if I'd attempt to swim across this river and here is this, what I would discover at its emergence from the water, a stringy bone showing dog making its way one doggy paddle at a time. Everyone soon came to the river bank and was cheering this swimmer on. So, the dog walked out like it was no big deal. Shook off the water and mosied on his merry way. Obviously he'd done it before and has his entry points that lead him to his exit points downstream. Probably visiting a girlfriend; I've enacted crazier feats for the opposite sex.

We board the large canoe and push off. We cross the 75 meter wide river and hop out on the other side. We pile into the beds of the pickup trucks and proceed.

We zoom down the rock strewn dirt road, through groves of cacao, plantain, banana, citrus... the standards. Up over hills, down into small valleys and over small streams. We continuously have to duck our heads to not get whacked by the low hanging branches. Well, I failed to lower my head for one branch. I saw it coming and it didn't look big. There appeared to be only a few dangling leaves, so I figured it would just brush by. Wrong. I lowered my head, yet the back of my neck was somewhat exposed and, WHACK! I fell to the bed of the pickup. It felt like there was a coconut hiding behind those few leaves. Whatever it was, it was a solid connection that put me down. Enough to draw blood. For the rest of the ride, I stayed squatted, far from the reach of anything.

When the trucks stopped, we piled out and everyone was shocked at the puncture wound that made its mark on my neck. The blood continued, as did the headache. And because of the sweat, the blood was smearing all over my neck and shirt collar.

The farm is 3 Hectares and once again is planted predominantly with CCN-51. The trees are 3 years old and if I wasn't told this, would have guessed 8 years old. They are about 12 feet high and full of red ripe pods. Very, very impressive how this strain of cacao can produce so much, so quickly.

The second farm was across the street and again, CCN-51 the variety of choice. This farm was about 5 hectars and was planted half in cacao (and its supporting trees) and half in brown cotton. The farm was very well maintained by the owner. I was shocked to learn that he tended the farm only by himself. No other help. 5 hectars is equivalent to about 12 acres. The farmer, about 65 years of age.

After walking the farm for an hour, we head back the way we came and continue on the 4 hour trek back to the hotel. The drive, slow and bouncy. As the night introduced itself, the driving became even slower and more sketchy. Navigating the slick inclines with oncoming trucks on an 8 ft wide road with a river 400 ft below was best left to the local who understood what little driving system existed.

We finally get back. We have a quick dinner and retreat to our rooms, shower and close the eyes around midnight. Mosquito bites starting to make themselves known. Ant bites on the ankles, already known.