El Bosque Nublado
On the drive to the cloud forest we stopped in a cloud of dust and were told to get off the bus. We descended into chest-high weeds. A few steps revealed a giant crater lake. A lumpy island in the middle was shaped vaguely like a rodent and is thus named “cuy island.” Behind the lake loomed the tallest volcano in Ecuador. Basically the whole of Carnaval weekend was like this: the most exquisite natural beauty I have ever witnessed, lurking around almost every corner. When we arrived in Intag, we drove on a gravel road for two more hours. Then we loaded our backpacks into a truck and trudged off on a footpath to take us to La Florida. After an hour of walking along a mountain that overlooked a farming valley, crossing streams (thank god for botas de caucho) and fighting mud, we reached the end of the path. Here the car was traded out for a horse, and we continued on to the farm. And by farm, I mean heaven. The tops of mountains were at this point occluded by wispy clouds, and the lush green had darkened into a textured moss color. The ground was littered with giant orange leaves. In heaven I was fed: Enchiladas, tamales wrapped in banana leaves, empanadas, guacamole salad, handmade corn chips, lentils, handpicked bananas and pineapples, pancakes with raspberry and blueberry jam, corn cakes, tomate de arbol juice, lemonade, oatmeal cookies, peanut butter squares, and chocolate cake. Two waterfalls, three rivers, and the infamous gallo de la peña lek intersected with the property. The only bathing done was beneath a giant cascade of glacial water. As it turns out glacial water doesn’t feel glacial in Ecuador at all. In fact it’s closer to tepid than glacial. On the nature hike we were taken on, we had the sublime fortune of crossing paths with a tigrillo (ocelot), the most beautiful cat I have ever seen, and an animal that the owners of heaven hadn’t ever seen. Our guide had not seen an ocelot since he was eleven, 29 years ago. We were given lectures on the open pit mining for copper that had been initiated in the area by Mitsubishi about 15 years ago. I wish now I had so much mroe of an understanding of the fundamentals of the mining industry, because it was hard even to comprehend the magnitude of the resistance that the farmers of Intag put up. Carlos and Sandy, the owners of heaven, have started a cooperation of shade-grown coffee farms in the area, and have begun exporting to Japan and Europe. Thus we got freshly roasted coffee to drink with every meal. Ecuador has over 4000 species of orchids (the whole of North America is progenitor of only 120) and they have a beautiful array of them on the farm. One night our directors Fabian and Leonore set up a floodlight and a sheer screen and thousands of moths flocked to us. We were covered with a disgusting amount of diversity—everything from furry red-eyed hawk moths to pale green and silver flutterers. Grasshoppers and beetles joined the party too, which was less welcome but similarly fascinating because they were equally exotic. I think it really hit home for everyone what it means to live in a world of megadiversity, and what it would mean to lose it. I just wish that I could post photos right now, but I haven’t been able to upload any still. Soon I will make a giant slideshow of photos.
One tidbit before I go-
The pre-Colombian Andean calendar, unlike ours, was nonlinear, and followed 500 year cycles. Each of these periods was called Pachakutik, or the time that follows and returns. The ninth cycle was to begin in 1492, the same year that our very own Christopher sailed the ocean blue. This year was to begin the era of darkness for the indigenous peoples of the Andes. Thus, the tenth Pachakutik would begin in 1992, and was to commence the era “De la luz.” Odd to think we’re 18 years in already.
