That's how I'm going to refer to it from now on: the cloud forest. The word jungle implies oppressive heat to me, but it's much cooler here than I would have guessed. And while the word rainforest most certainly applies, it's the clouds that dominate.
They are the gatekeepers of the sun, sometimes allowing it full reign over the forest in the morning, other times restricting it's rays to only a brief glimpse of the land below. The clouds can form in a ceiling above, making the earth seem closer, or they can mingle with the trees, creating a heavy mist. The can also flow in the valleys between the mountains, and from above the sound of the rains that they bring can be mistaken for a rushing river.
Nestled in the midst of this, near the end of a dirt road where electricity arrived within the past few years, and where going to the little store in San Salvador is referred to as going to the pavement, is Pura Suerte.
The water that the clouds bear and release is a constant presence here. Wet clothes hung over a railing may take days to approach being dry. Matresses smell musty. Cigarettes are kept in the freezer else they come too saturated to smoke. Pages of books from the little library must be turned delicately, their fibers weakened by moisture. The greatest luxury here is not a hammock of a hunk of chocolate... but clean, dry clothes to change into after a day's hike in the rain.
This plot of land belongs to Drennan, who bought it several years ago, while in his early twenties. Then, it was just the building that was once used for processing sugarcane. Since, he has added a woodshed, a handful of guest houses, a restaurant, a home for himself and his girlfriend Pamela, and last year a dorm for the student groups that come from the states in the high season. He was pivotal in bringing electricity to the valley, and the locals respect him for improving the quality of life here.
I met Drennan the afternoon that I arrived. The taxi driver dropped me off at his house, after an hour's drive from San Isidro with a few stops for directions, by way of a winding road where the weather could change from one valley to the next. He gave me a lift down to the volunteer house, where he wanted to see what seeds I had brought from the states. He was in the middle of something back at his house when I arrived, so he soon left me with this summation: Treat this place as if it were your own.
The next day Mudflap took me on a tour of the property. He has been here for nearly a year, long enough that he is now essentially directing the volunteers that show up. He showed me the trails, and we talked while he used a machete to clear tall grasses from the trees and plants he wanted to promote the growth of.
While I think the ideal of self-sustainablility is still alive here, where you grow everything you need to live, that ideal has been supplanted by other priorities. There is no grove of bamboo to be harvested, the horses pictured on the website have long since been sold. Instead of the thriving farm that I imagined, there are a handful of gardens with ongoing experiments to see what grows and what doesn´t. It seems that the main source of income is the student groups, which means that a considerable amount of effort that could be focused on growing things is instead used for groundskeeping.
That night, Drennan came by to drop off some supplies. Mudflap, or any other volunteer who stays here, has to rely heavily on Drennan to bring food. The gardens just don't produce enough. He sat on the bench outside the front door and I stood nearby.
"How are you settling in?"
I shrugged. He watched me intently with a wry smile while I searched for words for everything I had seen and thought that day. But before I found them, he asked, "Need some space for your old life to unravel in your head?"
I nodded, "Yes, exactly."
We renegotiated the terms under which I was staying. I wanted time to look at all these new things, and time just to sit and think. I can only imagine what inner journeys a few years alone in the forest can lead you on, but I think Drennan has travelled them. When speaking about personal matters, he has an almost business-like demeanor, like an old pro who no longer sees the need to waste words.
For me to live in the cloud forest for several months like I had intended, it would be an act of love and devotion. There is so much to learn... what you can and cannot eat, all the new sounds to know and the ability to recognize what makes them, how to prepare a meal with new fruits and vegetables. Then there are also circumstances to deal with... relying on another for basic staples, the moisture, living in isolation with one other person. I like Mudflap a lot, but there are very few people who I would choose to live like this with.
I can see myself maybe someday offering up that kind of love for this place, it's beautiful and there's much to be done, but for now I just want to flirt.
Comments