The Blue Disc

by William B. Waits

  To hell with those who make fun of urban outdoorsmen. Yeah, I’m an urban type, but I’m really going in. This is no posh Jeep with oversized off-road tires rolling along some interstate highway. No, this is a sputtering, used boat moving up the wildest river in the world, for better or worse. This is danger for real.

  The bolstering effort didn’t work. I reflected more seriously.

  How, in a few weeks, am I going to get food from the rain forest after my groceries run out? Sure, this environment is the richest place on Earth for plants and animals, but which ones are edible? Most of them, I’ve never seen before. How will I eat? I’ll have to learn from natives and that means establishing relationships immediately. If natives give me food as a guest in their village, I will be under social pressure to eat whatever I am served, much like going over to someone’s house for dinner. One anthropologist was served a stew of pig testicles by his subject group as a prized dish. There were many similar stories. Jones told my seminar that, if we are served something that we really can’t choke down, we could say that eating it would violate our religious beliefs, a position that natives generally respect.

  I needed to learn whatever I could about food so I walked to the rear of the boat.

  “Raul, I need to learn about how to feed myself in the rain forest.”

  “I wondered what took you so long,” he said amiably. “Sometimes I thought about giving you suggestions, but I guessed you already knew what you needed to know.”

  “You know how to get food here?” I asked.

  “Yes, I do. I wouldn’t come this far up the river without knowing how to feed myself. Something could go wrong with my boat at any time and I would be on my own.”

  “Good. Can you tell me some of the things I should know about that? Where do you want to start?”

  “You know to boil water, I am sure.”

  “Yes, simple enough,” I said, somewhat chagrinned at the elemental beginning.

  “Simple yes, but the challenge is building a fire with wood, even wet wood. I’ll show you how to do that when we get ashore. No exceptions to boiling, though. Jaguars are fearsome, but the germs of the rain forest are an even greater threat.”

  “What about food?”

  “Fishing is the safest way to feed yourself. Just stay by the river and drop a line rather than wander off where you may get eaten rather than eat. Of course, the waters have risks of their own. Anacondas, piranhas, caimans, and electric eels live there, as you’ll discover. Fortunately, the river has many edible fish, so the first step is to learn which ones those are. The first rule is that, if you don’t know what’s on your hook, throw it back.” Raul paused for a moment, then asked, “What kind of fishing equipment do you have?”

  Raul waited patiently while I got my stash of fishing hooks and line from my backpack.

  He looked at it carefully, before saying, “Not bad. Twenty or thirty hooks, some heavy line, and floats. They will work well enough but you may have to cut your line if you catch something that you don’t want, like an electric eel. Piranhas will bite right through the line so you don’t have to worry about cutting the line for them. They cut their own. I’ll give you twenty more hooks and two spools of line. I’ve got some sinkers and corks as well. That should equip you to fish until you meet some natives. When you’ve done that, learn from them how they get their food and do the same. That’s the key to your long-term survival, but you know that already, I trust.”

  I nodded weakly.

  “Rain forest people live off what’s here, even get fat,” Raul said, in a kind voice. “There is plenty of food; you just have to know how to get it.”

  I smiled.

  “In the process, make sure you don’t become food,” he added as a caution.

  My smile dropped.

  Raul continued to give me tips about getting food for about two hours, which I carefully recorded in my journal. During a pause in our conversation, I remembered a story that Jasovic had told the seminar from his research in New Guinea.

  “My group ate bees, roasted them as a delicacy,” Jasovic had said. “I told them that where I was from, Europe, people ate the sticky yellow residue that the bees left in their hives and considered it a delicacy. The natives actually became sick to their stomachs at the thought that people would eat honey because they associated it with excrement.”

  The point of Jasovic’s story was that we only eat a small percentage of the full range of edible plants and animals in our environment, and that the restrictions on what we eat are mostly cultural—that is, learned—rather than biological. Specifically, the queasiness in the stomachs of his subject group about eating honey was cultural, not biological. That the seminar grasped readily, but his next point was tougher: the queasiness we felt in our stomachs about eating bees is also cultural, not biological. Humans can do perfectly well biologically eating either bees or honey. In fact, he added, you are almost certainly better off in terms of nutrition eating the bees.

  Over the next week, Raul continued to give me information about getting food from the rain forest, while I took careful notes. I soon realized there would not be enough time for me to record everything I needed to know. I was getting a synopsis of a course on survival rather than a full course. The rain forest did not give up its secrets to simple efforts at understanding. During the intervals between Raul’s lessons, there was little to do. I listened to the drone of the engine, mostly smooth now and with fewer sputters. It had become gentle, almost friendly. When I got anxious, I told myself I could manage the risks of the rain forest. Don’t make up problems that don’t exist. However, the reality was that the boat was taking me into the wildest environment on the planet. I would have to struggle to take care of myself, perhaps even struggle to save my life. Those harsh prospects contrasted sharply with the peaceful drumming of the boat’s motor. I found a good place to rest against the side of the boat up near the bow. The curve fit my back well enough after I padded it with two tarps from Raul’s storage area. The tropical sun beat down on me and the warmth, along with the gentle vibrations of the motor, soon made me sleepy. I dozed against the tarp, woke from time to time, and dozed again. Then, without warning, Raul called out sharply, stirring me from my afternoon nap.

  “There, right over there!” he stabbed through the air before returning his hand to the wheel.

  My eyes squinted tightly, focusing through the intense sunlight into the shadows beneath the luxuriant foliage, but all I could see was vague shapes. Then I made out what looked like tree trunks or poles sticking up out of the river and a small crude platform.

  “It’s the up-river dock,” said Raul. “This is as far up the La Cuerda as I have ever gone. Ten years ago, I built the dock here because the currents around the bend in the River helped me into the dock. Also, it’s on the border between two native groups and neither one of them wants to fight the other to stake an exclusive claim to it, or at least that’s how it’s been for several years. Another boat business in La Puerta, run by the Rodriguez brothers, uses the dock as well.

  “If you need to float out of the rain forest, you can stop here and either the Rodriguez brothers or I will pick you up. I make it up here every three months or so when I have a very adventuresome fare—that’s assuming my boat is running—so you might have quite a wait. The Rodriguez brothers also come here but not as frequently. If I were you, I’d camp on the dock. You see, I made the dock poles high enough to hang a hammock. You should be fairly safe here, although, in the rain forest, you’re always in some danger. That’s a given. There are fish, turtles, and eels in the river that you can catch for food but remember that some river animals are dangerous, so don’t go in the water unless you really need to, and then only go in shallow streams where you can see what’s there.”

  Raul carefully guided the boat toward the shore, using the current to push him in. He was more intense and focused than at any previous time during our trip up river.

  “Got to get the landing right the first
time,” he mumbled. “No one to help us if we damage the boat or get grounded. No one to help—except the Rodriguez Brothers, weeks away, maybe months. No mistakes. Rick, look carefully for fallen trees under the water.”

  I leaned over the bow, peering into the murky water.

  “It’s my greatest fear—running over a big limb with my prop,” Raul continued. “If all I do is bend the prop, I can usually straighten it, although it’s hard work to do it on the river.”

  “Don’t you have a spare?” I asked.

  “I’ve got one stored below so I can deal with prop damage, but what I worry about most is breaking the drive shaft or a part inside the engine. That’s another matter. Can’t fix it,” he said as his shoulders shuttered.

  He got the bow of the boat close to the rickety dock so I could jump onto it. Just as I leapt, the current shifted and I slipped on the damp wood of the dock and fell into the water. I took it in good spirits. I was hot anyway.

  “You’d better get out of there, Señor Rick. You don’t want to make your first rain forest acquaintance there,” called out Raul.

  After I sloshed up the bank, he tossed me the tie rope from the boat, which I lashed to the dock with an awful knot. It was not a nautical knot or Boy Scout knot or any other respectable kind of knot. It was a liberal arts/social sciences knot. When Raul got off the boat, he immediately retied it while smiling indulgently. Off the dock, I walked for the first time on the soil of the rain forest, which proved to be wetter than I had expected. Although I didn’t get mud on my feet as I walked, they pushed a little into the soft ground with each step. The whole area around us was saturated, like the Mississippi Delta during winter, I thought.

  “We’ve been on the boat so long, let’s build a fire and cook dinner. I’ll catch a fish off the dock and show you how to start a fire.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “There is a small clearing over there. The ground is only a little higher, but enough to make it firmer. While we’re here, make notes to help you recognize this spot if you are floating down.”

  It took us only about fifteen minutes to unload what we needed to make dinner and set it up in the clearing. Raul caught a nice fat fish off the dock and I opened a can of peas from my dwindling stock of packaged food. The meal was a great boost to our spirits. When it came time to sleep, we returned to the boat for safety reasons. I slept fitfully, listening for every little sound, but not knowing which ones were important. It occurred to me that the rain forest was quieter than I thought it would be.

  The next day, as we continued our journey on the river, Raul reiterated that the dock was the farthest he had ever been upstream. His demeanor reflected deep unease, although he had agreed in La Puerta to take me into unknown territories. When I asked him to continue telling me what he knew about the rain forest, he obliged, albeit with a furrowed brow.

  Three days later, Raul spotted a small village next to the river. I suggested that we go ashore because it would give me some experience interacting with a native group. He said he had heard that a group called the Primomamo lived in this area. If this was the Primomamo, they would be a good group to study, he suggested, because all he knew about them was that they were peaceful.

  I was going to have my first encounter with natives! I was doing real fieldwork, rather than merely roaming the stacks of Sterling Library. During our brief time in the village, the Primomamo were pleasant and Raul communicated with them in a pidgin language that worked well enough. However, as Raul conversed with them and translated for my benefit, they mentioned they had several visitors from outside society in the last twenty-five years and offered to show us some pot designs they adopted from a brochure a visitor left. Rick knew that a study of this group would not satisfy Jasovic. I told Raul to ask them about other groups further up river.

  At first, Raul resisted, saying that, “I need to get back on the river right away, back toward La Puerta for more fares. I’ve been gone a long time.”

  “But this is what I have come here for, Raul, to find the most remote group I can and study them.”

  With some cajoling, Raul agreed to see what he could find out from the Primomamo, so we both returned to the native who had talked the most. Without much delay, Raul got my question across: Do the Primomamo know of other groups, deeper in the rain forest where I might live for a while? And that’s how we learned about the Euromamo.

  Rick was stirred from his recollections by a guard asking him if he wanted some food. He was tired and glad to stop. The meal cooking outside smelled good, and it proved to be very tasty. It was spiced with a flavor he did not recognize.

  CHAPTER 9

  The Walkabout

  Late in the afternoon, on the fourth day after the battle with the Islamamo, a young man walked briskly into the bunker and announced to all, “The Leader and our four warriors have returned to the village unharmed.”

  “I’m glad to hear that!” another guard exclaimed.

  “Wonderful news!” said another.

  “They’re tired, of course, but anytime we have a battle with the Islamamo and it stays within the Rules, it’s a welcome result.”

  Rick was relieved, although he had only talked with the Leader briefly and did not know the other four Euromamo at all. Early the next morning, the Leader stopped by the bunker, which was a surprise as she had not been back long. Close behind her was John Eel Hunter. They wore fabric clothing, Rick noticed, not skins like they had earlier. This was the first time he had seen any Euromamo in cloth garments.

  “I’m pleased to see you, Leader. I was worried about you and the others when they led you away, but you look well,” Rick commented.

  “I’m well enough. It’s a relief to be back in the village. I can’t stay with you long because this is the day the hunting territories will be transferred to the Islamamo and the corn tribute paid. I must soon be off to perform those unhappy duties.”

  “I understand you’re busy, Leader,” Rick said. “What do you wish to discuss?”

  “We have not told you much about our society thus far. The guards, as you have doubtless noticed, have been largely uncommunicative. In that, they were following my explicit instructions because, frankly, I didn’t want you to learn about us except the things John told you about the battle. Now, however, we will deal differently with your presence among us. We will tell you much more about us, so you will come to know us well.”

  “I’m very happy with your decision, Leader, because I’m anxious to begin my research.”

  “I’m sure that’s true; however, don’t take this as approval of your writing about us when you return to outside society. You see, privacy has a special place in our society. We treasure it and are committed to maintaining our control over it. As you learn about us, you will better understand why it’s important to us. That’s the sole reason I have decided to allow you more access to us.”

  “You are letting me learn more about you to preserve your privacy?”

  “A conundrum, I know. You’ll understand more later.”

  “Thank you. Can I get started soon?” Rick asked.

  “Yes. There’s no reason to delay. I’ll leave you with John who’ll take you for a walkabout through our village.”

  “I’d assumed I was somewhere in the village already. You have a larger settlement?”

  “Yes, much larger. This bunker was the first building that our forebears built when they came to the valley. That’s why we still use it for ceremonial functions. However, most of our settlement is up the Bel Ami a short distance. John will show it to you.”

  “Thank you, Leader.”

  She looked directly into his eyes.

  “I am concerned about allowing anyone from outside society to see our village. However, it’s the best strategy that I could devise for dealing with you, given the circumstances. Time will tell whether I’m correct. But enough of this. You’re in John’s good hands. Follow his guidance for your own safety.”

  With that, the Lead
er turned and left.

  “Get whatever you need for a walk,” said John. “We’ll be gone several hours.”

  Rick grabbed his hat and a journal. He filled his Albatross 800 and wiped the nib with a piece of old t-shirt he had brought for the purpose. He was ready to go. As he stepped into the brightness outside, the sunlight felt hot on his shoulders. It was good to be out of the bunker. John motioned him toward a well-used path leading up river. Directly behind him, approaching the bunker from the opposite direction, was the path they used after they captured him. The path the Euromamo had taken to the battlefield to meet the Islamamo went off to his left. Good, he thought. He was going somewhere he hadn’t been before. The path itself was well maintained but the foliage on either side was near the path and quite thick. In a firm voice, John told him to stay close and remain alert for possible dangers. They had gone about 80 yards when, in front of a small ridge, Rick saw, of all things, an overshot water wheel standing in bright relief against the backdrop of plants. The wheel itself was about twenty-feet high and rotated slowly around a thick wooden axle sticking through the right wall of the sturdy mill house. The bottom four feet of the house walls were mortared natural stone with half-timber above that.

  “I had no idea you had a water wheel,” Rick commented.

  “This is one of many things you will learn about us today,” said John, with somewhat pursed lips. “Excuse me if I seem uneasy, but it’s highly unusual for us to have a visitor from outside society.” After a few more steps, John paused and commented, “Things would have been much simpler for us if you’d taken our advice to study another group, leaving us with our privacy. However, you persisted in staying here, but we don’t know yet whether we can trust you as you learn more about us. The Leader may be right in her decision. In any regard, I’ll show our village, highly unusual though it is.”