It’s been four days in the Barra and it’s time to take a break from this windless heat. We caught a ride in CAB of a pick-up all the way to Sonsonate, which saved us a pick-up bed/bus combo ride. A family was on their way to the doctor for their five-year-old son who had a brain infection. The looked tired and had an IV tube taped to his arm. He’s getting better.
From Sonsonate we buy our five gallons of drinking water for our two days in El Balsamar, the community of Shannon, another Peace Corps volunteer. Then we hop the bus to the bus to the pick-up to the bus. The final bus has a driver in training and he struggles with the double clutch up the tight corners up the dirt road into the mountains. We’re only 50 km or so from the Barra but the sights couldn’t be more different. Waterfalls (it’s the rainy season), Balsum trees shading coffee plants and moss-covered cliffs paint the valley and mountains.
El Balsamar is a community of 130 families that are all under the local coop. All land and crops are controlled by the coop. After the end of the war the Duenos (landlords) were overthrown an cooperatives were started in many areas of El Salvador. I keep asking about the relationship between the federal, district, municipal and community government. Municipalities, administered by a mayor, are the equivalent of counties in the US and communities could be any type of organization the people want – ultra democracy. So every mayor has to deal with however many different forms of community organization the people choose, often several for each community, placing organizations in competition with each other. In Barra de Santiago the ADESCO (development association) has a national charter, but there are other groups in town with a charter from the mayor who compete for funds and leadership. On our walk to the first truck ride today the woman who poses the greatest competition to the Barra’s ADESCO stopped us and said, “Want to work together.” This was a major breakthrough.
So El Balsamar retained their coop while many of their neighbors disbanded and divided up the property. El B. produces Balsum oil, used in fragrances and natural body products. The oil is extracted from the tree by burning the bark a bit, then cutting away vertical stripe of bark and collecting the oil that comes out. This is then further processed in the coop refinery, making the whole town smell good. Unfortunately, the final process is done off-site so the rough-refined Baslum is sold to a middle-dealer. Most of the profits are extracted down stream.
In November and December the coop also harvests coffee growing under the shade of the Balsum trees. This is an intense surge of work so whole families collect the coffee pods to the coop “de-podding” machine. They just got a new machine, which pollutes the river less and requires electricity. Electrical service came to El B three months ago for the first time.
The cooperative has many benefits. El B has a new “protected wilderness area” just on the edge of a pasture. Surrounding communities have been cutting their forests for firewood and have very little wooded area left. This makes protecting this new area more difficult, because everyone in El B knows everyone else so no one is getting away with cutting their protected area, but surrounding communities do wonder in and cut. El B has vigilantes or volunteer rangers who patrol the forest several times a week to collect information and keep on eye on cutting.
This afternoon it looks like rain, but we shed our electronics and head out for a hike in the woods. A mile in we come to a waterfall and great vista of the valley. Jason and I swim a bit. It’s hard not to forget that the whole town bathes in this river upstream. El B also has 32 new composting latrines, but that leaves 75% of the town without latrines, so there’s that to consider or try not to consider.
The entire mountain range is volcanoes, some still technically active. The river at places is carved out of massive chunks of cooled lava. I found a water slide of sorts, but it needed a bit more water volume to be more fun than work. Bounding from on rock to another, the toe of my big Chaco sandal catches a rock tripping me up an smacking my middle toe. It feels broken, but I can wiggle is so I decide to wait on the verdict. It’s not bleeding and I notice I didn’t break the skin, which I’m relieved about considering, the upstream activities. In the next half hour my toe hurts less and turns bright purple so I figure I got off easy.
Shannon shows us the way down a muddy trail to the bottom of the waterfall. The trail looks completely different than a week or so ago because the rainy season has caused an explosion of flora. When we rejoin the river we found four smaller falls below the big 200’ falls. In a quest for the “mist on the face” experience we scramble up the rocks to the big falls.
We nearly arrived when I went for a big step and my left sandal landed and slipped. Smack, an overhanging rock stopped my sliding leg, but gouging my shin. This did break the skin. With blood trickling down my leg I had two thoughts: 1) at least where not in the Barra where my blood might attract a crocodile (I’m not sure they actually are attracted by blood, but that was my in-pain logic.) 2) I’m glad I didn’t hit directly on the bone.
On the hike out I was glad to be hiking myself out. Back at the Hacienda I cleaned up the wound - a couple of good scrapes and one good gouge. I’ll be fine.
The Hacienda where Shannon lives is part of the remodeled coop building. It’s amazingly charming and rustic. Take a look at the photos on Flickr. I just looked around and imagined the doors, old planks and 100-year-old tiles adoring a display or catalog of Anthropologie priced at thousands of dollars. This rustic loft comes with 24 vigilante protection. Three men from the coop stroll by quite frequently, shot guns slung across their bare backs, to use the only bano. This bano hasn’t been remodeled. is even more rustic, barely functions and is quite disgusting (see Flickr photos).
