So I realised that in my last post, I hadn´t really written anything about the current people living in the Sierra Nevada, only the ones that lived there 500 years ago. It`s an interesting area, our guide was from a mestizo family, half Indian and half Spanish origin. His father and brother moved into the area looking for work after having been in various places in Colombia, and in Venezuela. They started farming marijuana until the US government started spraying the land with a poisonous substance to kill off the crops, which unfortunately destroyed much of the area and killed off a lot of the indigenous tribes who have little resistance to any illness.
They then moved on to the much safer industry of coca plants (!), part of the massive cocaine boom which gripped the country. Again there was a big government crackdown, so they are now cultivating the better chosen crops of coffee and cocoa. Their farm is in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, only accessible by mule or foot, and they venture down to the city once a week to get supplies. Their main problem is the lack of girls in the area, our guide was one of 9 sons. Sadly this means that younger and younger girls are being preyed upon. Almost the whole family is involved in guiding in one form or another alongside their farm work, and we stayed in a beautiful simple hut in hammocks, open air shower and the best view I´ve seen from a sink.
Their lives are beautifully simple, but seem to be marred by alcohol, as are many of the communities we´ve come across. Our guides almost ran down the last bit of the mountain to get to the nearest bar to spend their wages. Here the men hang out and drink, and play a form of boules, involving throwing stones at a pocket of gunpowder.
Their neighbours, the Corgis, the descendants of the Tayronas, are a more solitary bunch. Residing high in the mountains in villages of palm frond huts that have changed little for decades. Everything about their habits signifies something: From the number of rings of wood on their houses, relating to the number of generations their oral histories go back to; the two sticks coming out of their houses which relate to the two tallest peaks in the Sierra Nevava; their white clothes honouring `father son`, or their long hair, of men and women alike, signifying the fertility of ´mother earth´and helping the plants around them to grow. Their living huts for this reason are considered sacred, and so they never have sex in them, prefering to meet among the plaintain trees! Their culture is very similar to the Tayrona´s before them in lots of ways. Everything they do is in synchronisation with nature. They are a semi-nomadic people, and each time they leave a village they scrupulously clean the area to leave no trace of their presence, only flattened circles from their huts. Every time they cut down a tree, they replace it and every time they catch an animal to eat (they eat every kind of animal there is) they carry out a ritual to thank nature for providing them with food. They never take the young, and only as much as they need.
It is the man´s job to carry out the majority of the ceremonial work, and while women´s hands are never empty of their weaving, the men´s hands are equally never empty of their poporo (not sure of spelling). This is a gourd encrusted with crushed sea shells used for the grinding of coco leaves, which they use as a stimulant. Each son receives one when he reaches adulthood, and this is used for the great ceremonies in the House of Men, where the majority of men spend their time, carrying out ceremonies with the great Shaman of the village. Meanwhile the women check traps, cultivate vegetables and generally look after the family. Seems like the woman´s lot is the same the world over.
These days the indigenous also carry out small jobs for the soldiers and guides, carrying food and goods. They almost run on the mountain paths, covering what we did in 3 days before lunchtime. The only modern tool we could see was their rubber wellington boots, which seems to have become a part of their traditional clothing-good for avoiding snake bites which are a big problem, a girl in the group before us was bitten and had 24 hours to get to a hospital. She made it luckily.
Then the final group of people was our tour group. An interesting mixture of Danish, German, Canadian, Chilean and obviously English and Portuguese. Although the Mancunian (Isle of Man resident) might dispute his English status! A great bunch, we had a lot of fun together.
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