Gregoria

I think I misunderstood the geography of this place. They call it an island, and it is at high tide, but at low tide you can drive all the way to Mojan. We are towards one end, and there is a narrow strip going the other way that I hadn´t noticed.

The plan for the afternoon was to take advantage of the clouds and walk out to give some things to a woman named Gregoria and her family, then cut some palm branches to use for a wall in a garden project. Toby told me on the way that she is in an abusive relationship, and that Toby almost got in a fight with her husband the night before, and that Fernando had been in a fight with him before. That our second task of cutting palm branches involved a machete was probably no coincidence.

We trudged probably half a mile through soft sand. Along the way we ran into a few guys and told them what we were doing, and they looked at each other and one said he would come with us. He apparently lives about 2 hours walk from where we were and was on his way home. The people in the empty areas apparently raise livestock and that provides some measure of a living.

We arrived to find a fenced in area and a 12x12 shack with a stick frame and various pieces of rusted metal pinned to the side. No floor, gnats everywhere (there were chicken coops nearby). She has 5 kids. This to me was a classic example of how all the problems facing women in poor areas can come together. The kids showed us all the exciting things around their, baby goats, chickens, and a couple birds I´d never seen before. We were served coffee, rice, and some kind of fish. Two spoons, one plate. It struck me that a French press is not a particularly necessary coffee accesory. Here they just poor it through a towel.

Anyway, everything went well. I´m not sure if I´ve ever seen this sort of poverty before. We left them with a couple kilos of rice, flour, and dried milk. Also, some vitamins, kids aspirin, and a somewhat scary permethrin cream for various skin infestations. The husband showed up during the middle of all this and was pleasant. She apparently owns the house and land and in theory could kick him out, and she´s also been given he opportunity to move elsewhere by Francisco and others, but has refused. What can you do? The guy who walked with us said he was leaving and took off at a run, hurdling a fence along the way. He was probably 50 and apparently had about an hours run ahead of him. And by run, he was probably in the 7-8 minute mile range.

Onward, across a few dunes to a grove of palm trees. Our first priority was collecting a couple coconuts. Most of the trees were tall, so we found a technique where I would bend down and Toby would stand on my shoulders, then I would stand up. We got two coconuts and had a snack. The coconuts in the stores at home have very little in common with these. I´m not sure if it´s a different type, or if they can really dry out that much in transit.

Anyway, we cut several branches with the same technique. As I grew more tired, Toby grew more confident and started leaning, moving around, jumping a little to reach higher branches. I made it though. Dragging them back through the soft sand was the hard part, but I think this project will turn out well. There are few vegetables on San Carlos. We are going to start composting, mixing trash with manure and letting it sit for a while. Right now we are building a shaded area where we (or someone) will dig trenches and fill them with either straight compost or a compost/sand mix and plant corn, beans, and some kind of gourd. If it works, it could be somewhat revolutionary.