Arriba y Abajo

Tuesday and Wednesday we test-drove our survey questions in the field for the first time. We spent Tuesday in the upper part of the watershed, where the weather is chillier and the air thinner than ever (the highest point we reached was 3800 meters). Riding around here involves some patience, as the roads are quite rutted and pot-holed. I remember riding around on the farm with Daddy and Uncle Jimmy at some point in my childhood while they were still tagging calves, thinking this must be the bumpiest ride of my life. Wrong. The views driving up to the watershed were absolutely amazing, but nothing compared to when the bumping of the truck finally stopped and we were out and about on the side of a mountain.

I interviewed our first victims, two sisters, who with the rest of their siblings and parents, worked the farm. It is truly a test of my listening skills to be able to write down communidad names and the titles of various chemicals (especially as they tend to have other names for what the chemicals truly are). For me, it was a slightly intimidating experience, trying to make sure that I was getting down the right answers to all the questions, attempting to make decisions on the spot about whether to push on some things or not, digging for other ways to explain things to make our questions understandable. The women were truly very nice, tending to their children of 1 and 2 years while I questioned them, all three of us plopped down in a row of potatoes on the side of the mountain.

Our visit to the upper watershed (Illangama as I'll refer to it) continued up the mountain, with other team members interviewing another farmer, and all of us learning how to properly measure the fields. The people are quite indigenous in this part of the watershed, with traditional dress of layers of wool to ward off the chill and the typical hats. We would journey along in the truck, find the farmer standing on the side of the road (I suppose by word of mouth or some unknown communication to me) waiting for us; he and perhaps his wife or niece and child and more than once puppies and dogs would hop in the back of the truck and up we would go to the particular field we were interested in.

 All that we met were quite open and helpful, and they seem interested in hanging around and seeing what the fuss was about. In a moment when I was simply taking in the scenes, it struck me at how simply all those that lived up there were, and how joyful their faces were. I know they have very difficult lives; while it appeared that most have electricity of sorts, I wondered about hot water, something that I, for one, truly treasure. Perspective shifted for me, a moment of clarity that things are not what matters in this life. While I knew this in a way before, it hits home when you see children having an absolute ball with a piece of rubber tubing that those of us from "western civilization" have lost our simplicity, and with it a little bit of pure joy.

This piece of insight continued Wednesday as we journeyed down to 1800 meters or so in the lower (Alumbre) watershed. We stopped along the way for delicious corn and wheat pancake type creations for breakfast, together with some sickeningly sweet coffee. The views were yet again breathtaking, though the air being slightly less thin, we fought less with the atmosphere while hiking up to the farms. The people of the Alumbre are not as indigenous, but no less welcoming. It was quite a sight to drive up to the second farm today and see the farmer greet us with a wide grin and a VT t-shirt, evidence of our predecessors' work.

Our work begins in earnest tomorrow, and I think we will find that while it challenges us all and leaves us exhausted at the end of the day, we are all grateful to be here and want to make the most of it.