Canoe to Sarayaku

The women at the disco bar cooked us a meal of yuka and patacones (fried green bananas) with scrambled eggs and tea made with cinnamon leaves. Before we left we made use of their electricity. This was probably the last place we would have for a while where we could recharge our cameras and equipment.

When Isabela had arrived in Canelos they found only two indians remaining there who had survived the contagion. Isabela and her party commissioned them to build a canoe and pilot them down the river to the mission of Andoas (on what is now the border between Ecuador and Peru). At the time this would have been about a 12 day journey via canoe.

Over breakfast we were told we would drive down to a different port where we would leave – about a half hour drive away.

We were aware that the river was really low for the time of the year. It would be a slow journey and would take us all day and navigation would be more difficult.

Juan had negotiated with a swiss man living in the village to drive us and our luggage/food supplies the 15 minute drive down the road to the port. On the way he was saying how he would love to go to Sarayaku but he had not. It was necessary to be invited. You couldn’t just turn up. He also told us about the Achwan people who live about 50km the other direction. He said if you go into their territory without permission they will just hit you. We were later to learn more about these Achwan people.

Finally we reached the port where a 35 foot dugout canoe was waiting for us. There were other dugout canoes being loaded with various things – including one that was taking a fleet of baby live chickens. The owners built a covering of palm leaves over them to keep them sheltered from the baking sun.

Although there were many rapids which needed navigation, the river was still very low in places and more than once we got stuck on the river bottom and they guys had to get out and push us free. All our important stuff was tightly packed in drug sacks.

There was a hole in the front of the canoe which meant the bottom was full of water. A small boy was in the back with his father. He was constantly bailing the water out the back. His father cut him a container from a petrol bottle for him to scoop the water out. He didn’t wanted to do it and almost immediately ‘lost’ the vessel over the side. His father smacked him and cut another. Within seconds this too was ‘accidentally’ lost over the side. His father, fed up, made him use his boot after that and so for the rest of the journey he used his little gaucho (rubber boot) to scoop out the water. Strangely he managed to keep a tight grip on that for the rest of the journey.

It took us about 6 hours to reach Sarayaku. Although they had constructed removable wooden seats for us to sit on it was still cramped and awkward.

We disembarked on a muddy bank and some of the villages came down to help us carry our stuff up the slope. The plan was for us to stay 3 nights in Sarayaku. We were allowed to. We had permission.

We were told a story about a pair of English people had tried to kayak down the river a couple of years ago. They stopped at Sarayaku and walked into the village. They had not been invited and the Sarayaku were not pleased. They would not let them leave for 24 hours. They shouted at them and made sure they did not leave without fully understanding their cause and their fierce protection of their territory. The Sarayaku are Kichwa people. They are not violent people but they have fought long and hard to protect their lands in the international courts and have no tolerance for anything that may jeopordize this positon.

Other groups – including the Achwan people and the Candosie people in Peru also vigorously protect their territory. But they don’t just ‘talk’ about it. They do use violence. We were later to encounter a taste and stories of the very real threat they posed.