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Chapter 5 Turquoise Turqos

DOO-DOO-DOO-DOO, DOO-doo-doo-doo, DOO-doo-doo-doo” … it sounded to Ziggy like an old Indian chant as he came down the path. Then he saw its origin―beside the river sat an elderly Mapuche man playing something like a Jew’s-harp. He continued his music as he looked at the young man coming toward him. “DOO-doo-doo-doo, DOO-doo-doo-doo, DOO-doo-doo-doo.” A small sparrow hawk perched on a branch next to the Mapuche Elder was bobbing his head to the beat. When the music stopped, the bird let out a loud chirp and flew away.

            “Äwana, young man, how are you on this fine day?” the man inquired. “Feeling happy as that Kokori,” Ziggy declared, deciding to use the word meaning, “hawk,” one of the few Mapuche words he knew.

            “You are speaking my native tongue, where did you learn it?”

            “From Eloy. I am staying at his place on the river,” Ziggy said as he admired the turquoise the man was wearing around his neck and on his wrist and fingers, all matching his belt and buckle.

            “Eloy is a good man, although when he first came to this valley we had our doubts. I am the Orator of the Mapuche, and as such, I was authorized to talk to him, tell him our truths, teach him about our beliefs, and make sure he did not disrupt our balance with nature. It is easy to see the effect nature has on us, just look around. It is also important that we understand the effect we have on nature. The Mapuche believe that all parts of creation, including humans, are alive and connected with both the supernatural and the natural. Thus, the mountains, woods, rivers, lakes and ocean are born, grow old and die. Sometimes they become sick of natural causes but many times the sickness is brought on by man.” He sighed, then went on: “We as a people are standing at a crossroads; the effects of our mistreatment of this earth are showing up everywhere. Tomorrow is February 15th, the middle of summer here in the South Americas. Look up at the volcano, you see the sombrero of clouds hanging over the top today? Tonight will grow very cold and for the first time in February, these foothills will receive a coat of snow. All across the planet the weather is warning us of this cause and effect.” Ziggy thought of another old man he and his father once encountered in Costa Rica as he sat among his cows and chickens, watching the sunset. The old man was friendly and told them he was having a wonderful vision of his childhood, growing up on this same land. “These hills you see around you, when I was young, were covered with large old trees, as was true of all this area from Nicaragua to our capital of San Jose. It was truly a rain forest and rain it did, all year round.” They had looked over the hills behind them and had seen no trees, only dry, dead brush. Even though it was the middle of the “Dry Season,” you could bet $1,000 it would not rain a drop for 5 months and it was guaranteed you’d win your bet.

            The old man continued: “Then, forty years ago, the Germans came. They bought all this land from the government, thousands and thousands of acres. They brought in their machines and they cut and they cut until the only trees left were on the hard-to-reach hills around the volcanoes―where you can still find the last remnants of the ancient trees of the rain forest.” He looked at his cows: “Our government told us they would replace the trees with lots and lots of cows, which we could now raise for a living. The cows you see here are a few of the lucky descendents. Most of the others died shortly after arrival because taking away the trees changed the climate. The rain stopped, and for seven months it did not rain a drop. Everything dried up―our gardens, the grass, the rivers and our wells. With no food and water, the cows died quickly. We were lucky … we had set aside some of last year’s crops, ate fish from the ocean, and managed to get by. From that time on, our lives changed completely.” The old man rounded up his scraggly cows and headed up the dusty road. It was at that moment, then and there, that Ziggy’s dad organized “H.E.A.L. Costa Rica.” Before that he had visited another old man who was living near San Jose and for forty years had been putting back, one at a time, the native trees he remembered from his childhood. Ziggy’s dad had walked among the massive trees that had been planted by the old man and realized it was possible to replant and put back the rain forest. To do this, you first must have a patch of old growth to start from and for the new trees to lean on. This became the H.E.A.L. plan, and the goal was to slowly expand the forest area around the volcanoes. Hanging on the wall in the H.E.A.L. office was a map of Costa Rica marked with the best areas for replanting, called the orange zones. He had visited almost all these areas and priced the land. Most of it was barren and desolate and was relatively inexpensive, so he decided to buy them and begin this giant environmental experiment. Ziggy enlisted the help of several of his college buddies to start the foundation work. The project was moving along well when the “gringos” started moving in and overnight the cost of land skyrocketed … bribes paid to the government to bulldoze and develop the land increased and corruption swept the country. Three of the ex-presidents were put in jail for stealing large sums of money from the people. Ziggy’s father almost lost faith in his ability to accomplish this mission, thinking it probably impossible. However, before returning to the United States tired and broken, he was able to buy, “just in case,” several more large pieces of land.

            Ziggy’s attention now returned to the Orator, who continued: “When it snows tonight, people will wake up and say, ‘That’s never happened here before,’ but they won’t take the time to find out why.” He picked up a large wooden cup and dipped it in the river, then took a small jar wrapped in a silk cloth (the same beautiful color as his turquoise jewelry) from his pocket, and poured some of the contents into the cup. Handing it to Ziggy, he told him to “have a seat and try some of this Sweetwater. It will be good for your voice and your throat.” Ziggy sat down but the old man remained standing as if on a podium and spoke further: “I will tell you why it will snow tonight. My friend has just returned from our neighbor, Brazil, and says the rainforest trees are being burned down there for the same purpose―to lay claim to the land, just as our own forests were cut down, but in Brazil it is worse because smoke from the fires adds to the damage.”

            Ziggy knew of the fires. Soon after founding H.E.A.L. Costa Rica, his father was contacted by a Brazilian who said that 70% of the forest fires on the planet were in Brazil, then thanked him for his work in Costa Rica but felt that help was more urgent in Brazil. His father then started H.E.A.L. Brazil to investigate the situation in that country.

            The Orator had more to say: “My friend came to Chile to see if I could summon Ruka Pallin to stop the burning as he had stopped the cutting years ago in this area. Do you know the story?” the old man asked, hoping the young man would say “no” so he could continue to talk. “I know very little of it,” Ziggy responded.

            “Let me tell you what happened.” Pointing north, he continued: “A little further up this river is the ‘Corral De Agua.’ This entire area draws its name and its water from the Corral. It has been here since the beginning of time. We believe that all the great prophets have hidden some sort of secret in the depths of the Corral … something used to protect this earth. Tradition claims that Ruka Pallin still keeps his horse there. Let me explain―forty years ago when the foreigners came to cut the trees, they set up camp just across the river from here and brought in all kinds of equipment. We could not believe what we were seeing. We were beginning to organize opposition when the Machi of the area, Luz Clara’s mother, called a meeting to say she had just received a prophetic vision. She said we should immediately move to higher ground, indeed, that very night … because Ruka Pallin had informed her he would deal with these intruders. Since the rain had been falling for several days the river was already high. That night we sat on the hillside and waited for the prophecy to unfold. Unbelievably, it happened. Unbelievably, it seemed as if we could actually see Pallin’s horse rear up and crash his hooves down on the Corral. The rumble almost deafened us as the sides of the Corral crumbled, releasing the fury of Ruka Pallin. The wall of water was sixty feet high. We watched as it came down the canyon. It was amazing. As if guided by God’s own hand it destroyed the other side of the river but left our homes over here untouched. The water was gaining speed and force as it moved downstream and by the time it reached the foreigners’ camp it was over ninety feet high. It hit the camp full force―no one survived. To this day you can still find pieces of logging equipment scattered around, reminding you of the power of Ruka Pallin.” The old man took a drink from the cup and handed it back to the boy. “Then the gringo, Tom, came and with his help we stopped the developers from returning. Before returning to Santiago, Tom and his hippie friends started a small hostel called Ecole, leaving an old codger named Ranger Rick and several others to watch over the project and help us. Together, with people like Tompkins, they have an influential voice and use it to buy and protect our forests.” The Orator’s voice thundered as if speaking to a crowd. “It is important we all raise our voices, we must speak our truths. All the elements of nature must have a Ngen, or owner, who looks after them, cares for them and nurtures them when they are sick. Every day brings new challenges―the rivers are polluted, toxins are dumped into our oceans, the air is pumping poison directly into our lungs. It is not yet too late, but we must do our part to heal this damage.” Then he looked intently at the young man. “Can I speak honestly with you?”

            “Please do,” Ziggy responded, though apprehensive.

            “You lived in North America, yes?”

            “I did.”

            “Then tell me why your people consume so much more of everything than anyone else on this planet. You use more natural resources, more energy and more water per person than any other country. If all on this planet acted as you do, we would need 10 more earths to supply enough resources. Much like the Japanese, I have heard that you protect your own forests while you encourage the destruction of others; yet, like those looking at the snow on our mountains, you do not see the consequences of your daily actions on the rest of us living on this planet.”

            Ziggy sat in silence. He had no response. Beyond avoiding the military draft, those words reflected the big reason he was now living in Chile. He understood that although he was seeking a new home, he would always feel responsible for the actions of his homeland. It was a lesson he had learned while growing up in the United States because of his German ancestry and his very German last name.

            The Orator spoke softly, “I can tell by looking at you … you are not part of that problem. I sense you are a bit of a Ngen, but just remember the responsibility that requires. You must speak out, loud and clear.”

            Ziggy was emotionally drained. He drank down the rest of the Sweetwater and rose to his feet. “I must be moving on. I am going to the Corral. How much further is it?”

            “If you leave now you will reach the keeper of the Corral before nightfall. Traru will welcome you as he does all travelers. (“Teddy’s brother,” Geronimo whispered.)

            “Thank you for your honesty. I will take your advice to heart and I promise to do what I can.

            The Orator took a paper from his pocket and unfolded it. “My nephew took me to Ecole to meet these helpful people, and while there he showed me a machine connecting them to other groups who felt the same way. He showed me how the world was organizing inside this machine and then printed this list of people who were working to repair the earth.” He handed it to Ziggy. “I think you will find it useful.”

            Looking at the list, Ziggy read names of many of his father’s friends, starting with Greenpeace and moving down. Then he smiled, as there, on the bottom of the list, was H.E.A.L. He refolded the paper and placed it in his pocket, and then reached over to shake the Orator’s hand, but the wise man embraced him instead. Though tired from all the talking and listening, he welcomed the Orator’s truth … it refreshed his soul, just as Teddy, Armun, Florencia and Humberto had done. He was keenly aware that Chile was not his homeland, but all the same, he felt at home.

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