Chaparrí: Kirsten

The legend of Chaparrí is one of two brothers, one good and the other evil. Chaparrí was a great lord with the powers to heal and divine, who led his people by example. Yanahuanca used the power of sorcery and potions to turn his people into "sons of the demon," and follow his every command.

One day Yanahuanca and his followers attached Chaparrí, kidnapping his wife Collique and killing her grief-stricken husband. Yanahuanca then continued forward to plague other communities in a greedy search for treasures.

Hearing the call of his people, the Sun God finally resurrected Chaparrí, who struck Yahuanca and his followers down, turning them to stone. However, tormented by having accomplished this deed, Chaparrí bid his people to cut out his heart and place it on his head. Then he, too, turned to stone.

It is said that on clear nights the two borthers talk to each other, Chaparrí trying to turn his brother away from evil. When this occurs, the two shall return together.

The town of Chongoyape ("Weeping Heart") was named after this legend and is watched over by Mount Chaparrí, a site of great spiritual importance to the Moche Culture of northern-coastal Peru. As of 1999 it is also the site of the first private conservation area in Peru, Chaparrí, initiated by a photographer named Heinz Plenge and owned and maintained for ecotourism revenue by the town of Chongoyape.

We volunteered our services at Chaparrí for 2.5 weeks this past April.

And what to say about our time at Chaparrí? Every day we hiked up and down trails, and I enjoyed the burn of my legs working, heart pumping. It felt GOOD. Everyday we got sweaty and gross and then refreshed after a shower. Every meal was cooked and eaten outdoors. Every other day we saw a couple of tarantulas, or a scorpion or scorpion-spider, or a boa constrictor in the wild, and it all felt normal. Every day we saw Sechuran Foxes, shared common spaces with several bird species, enjoyed visits from the tortoise who kept trying to bite us, watched Spectacled Bears up close or from a distance. And Panchita, the young peccary who stuck near the ranger station, was always ready for a scratch behind the ears or under the chin, under the belly. By the last day of our stay she had learned to use our legs as scratching posts: if you happened to be standing with legs apart, she would come put her head in between and rub it up and down against your legs. You were lucky if her nose wasn´t full of mud.

It was enchanting. And those were just the animals.

Valentin, Peruvian gaucho, who we watched effortlessly lasso the horse he wanted and pull it from a group of 8 or so. We joined him one day as he patrolled the border of the reserve on horseback. A sweet man, but we could understand perhaps 1/10th of what came out of his mouth.

Porfirio, animal, reptile and insect handler who seemed slightly off his rocker and perhaps a little too unconcious of his power play with animals in cages (and out). He liked to pick up scorpions and tarantulas and then demonstrate his prowess by putting them on the table. Made me a little uncomfortable. Scorpions or tarantulas in the wild are one thing. When you respect them with distance, they respect you with the same. However when they´ve been picked up and relocated under a spotlight to a table surrounded by people, you only know they want to get away as fast as they can. But which direction will they take?

Those that made us feel like Chaparrí was home were Joel, Ivan, their mother Marina and brother Abrahan, their friend Elisabeth. Ivan has been involved in the reserve since before it´s inception. He now manages the rangers and oversees most of what happens at the reserve: the day-to-day "jefe." Shy and mysterious but with a sly streak, it took a few days for us all to be comfortable with one another. Once he decided we were useful and trustworthy, his smile loosened and soon he was answering Steve´s chides with a smirk and a twinkle in his eye.

The next eldest brother, Joel, is the opposite. Totally outgoing, he is the one to greet the volunteers and give them the tour. He celebrates his 22nd birthday in July, and he´s already been working at Chaparrí for 6 years. Joel is sweet; he is a clown; he is serious about learning everything he can about the wildlife and the reserve. he is trying to learn English on his own (with the help of the occasional volunteer). he was curious to learn about us and to teach us what he knew. he is completely genuine. He connected.

Elisabeth is just my style. Another whose soul resides in the kitchen and with the land, she is both a guide at Chaparrí and a culinary student. Warm, outgoing, easy to laugh, she opened her arms wide for a hug when we left.

There are some folks in Peru who find Steve´s very presence (namely his stature and shiny head) hilarious. Sebastian, our landlord from chivay, was one (he would break out in guffaw just to see Steve and I standing next to each other). Marina was another. At the onset, Marina was immensely shy and reserved. But once Steve started bashing his head on the ceiling of their tiny kitchen, Marina was both concerned about his wounds and had a great laugh over his banishment from the room.

A week into our stay, after I managed to prepare a carrot cake from memory for Steve´s birthday, Marina quickly assimilated me into the kitchen. The next day she said to me, ¨We should have pancakes for breakfast tomorrow." "Sounds good." Then she asked, "Do you know how to make them?" Apparently she didn´t. So the following morning found me down at the ranger´s station at 6am, preparing American pancakes as close to my father´s recipe as I could remember. They went over well.

Very much like Joel, Abrahan is open, friendly, and very curious about foriegners. Though he´s still in high school, he would show up on weekends or weekday evenings and help with the cooking--or do it all with the help of his even younger brother Ishmael. When asked how close they live, he said not far at all--3 hours walking or 1 hour running would get them home. But then, it seems that Chaparrí is also very much "home" for the whole family.

We spent all meals and every evening with the rangers: Joel, Ivan, Porfirio. Evenings soon revealed Joel´s love for ranchero music. Some nights after dinner we would sit listening to Joel and Ivan strumming guitars, singing of lost loves and bad drunks. We joined in when we could (usually his limited us to the chorus). But with each lull--at least 4-5 per evening of song--Joel would start up with La Bamba, and we´d do our best. The combination of all 4 of us only got us through 1.5 stanzas and the chorus. Never improved much on this front. Most other evenings were spent talking, tutoring Joel in English, and going through his collection of ipod music. This meant more ranchero, until Joel downloaded the entire itunes library from somone else´s computer and discovered Johnny Cash. The subsequent English lesson was all about pronouncing the lyrics to "I Walk the Line."

Perhaps when I´m away from home it becomes that much easier and more natural (or more imperative?) to open myself up to accept new places as "home" and new people as family. Like the unusually strong connections strangers make when on a trip together, or kids at sleep-away camp, it combines the curiosity and excitement of new people and places with the human desire for community. Stronger perhaps in some of us than in others. What is surprising and wonderful and real about this incidence is that the connection appeared just as true from the other side. Chaparrí is home to Joel. He has established vamily and community there. The terrain is his home. But he also desires to travel, to adventure, to discover other people and places. So perhaps we were a taste of the adventure coming to him. Joel and I shared a mutual desire for foreign community. Our eyes were the ones that struggled to hold back tears before they spilled into clear signs on the face, as we said goodbye.

Now I imagine what it would be like to show them the places we love at home in the states. To walk in the Massachusetts woodlands in autumn. Listen to the snow fall. Visit the beach in East Hampton. Take them on a sailboat. Hoping they would love our world as well, or at least find it fascinating and beautiful.