Yesterday we headed to an anchorage called Gun Boat island
(don’t ask) nearby Isla Maquina but it was untenable in the weather and had to
retreat to a more secure spot. No worries as Romiliano came to find us and
suggested a better place that would be safe and secure.
A hut near our secure anchorage at Gaigar |
Romiliano and Yessica live in one of only two concrete
double story houses on the island. It was built by Romalianos father and on
arrival we were warmly welcomed, given a plastic chair each to sit on as Kunas
sit in hammocks normally and presented with a warm beer (yes I guess they know
what yachties like) and having exposure to yachties was definitely paying off
for these guys. They had a bank of 5 solar panels, an actual bed (most kuna’s also
sleep in hammocks) and a knackered Bluetooth speaker, that Romiliano was super
proud of. From their balcony you could see just how close all the other houses
are and how much larger their home was.
You could see the ocean all around and the island itself is less than 1
metre above sea level. The “streets” flood when there are storms so having a two-story
house is ultimate luxury, however Romiliano’s mother still sat there and
stitched a gorgeous brightly coloured mola.
A sneaky picture from the balcony |
Andrew enjoys a beer on Romiliano's top deck - complete with xmas tree |
It’s not permitted to take photographs and especially not at
a culturally sensitive ritual such as Chicha. So I wanted to do my best to
describe the day in words. We went with the family to the large hut that is the
Chicha hut. Andrew sat on a wooden plank with the men on one side of the sand
floored hut and I sat with Yessica and her sister in-law, all huddled in around
me and Yessica were about 100 Kuna women, all beautifully dressed in mola
covered blouses, vivid sarongs and beads along their legs and arms. Many had
painted noses, red cheeks and gold rings through their noses.
The ceremony all started very seriously with two of the six
chiefs perched on stools in the centre with blowing smoke at each other from a
rolled up cigar like thing, after every few blows they would take it in turn to
go and take a small bowl and share a drink then spit it on the floor. After a
few rounds of that some of the women got involved and took a lantern and led a
procession out of the hut, men and women, returning a few minutes later with bowls
of chicha.
The men then started a kind of stomping dance where they
jeered at those facing them and the women did a similar movement on their side
of the hut. It started seriously but then they all started giggling and having
fun with one another, some women talking or chanting at the liquid. The next
stage involved the Chica being brought around to each of us, the bowl of brown
looking liquid was handed to me, I glanced at Yessica who told me to drink the
whole thing while standing. I can’t say the first one was very nice but managed
a second, which had a really nice coffee flavour to it. Over the other side of
the hut, I could see Andrew standing more than a foot taller than his Kuna
companions doing the same; how bizarre was this….. Kuna’s do not like being
filmed as they a fiercely protective of their cultural heritage, therefore when
you see a photograph of them they are not smiling, so seeing them party, jest
with each other was such a surprise and a treat– they are really kind,
beautiful, fun loving, small people.
After the first two rounds it all started getting a bit more
haphazard as the effects of this intoxicating drink made from sugar cane took
hold, the laughter and jokes among the women was infectious and then smoking
took over as pipes, cigarettes and handfuls of sweets were handed around. Tiny
Kuna women with gold rings through their noses dressed in traditional outfits
smoking pipes are quite a sight. Andrew and Romiliano decided to head to the
little dock for a beer while I stayed on a little with the girls. The chief who
had started the ceremony came to me and shock my hand and said his island was
now my home too. Meanwhile, Andrew paid a $5 fee for our anchorage for 1 month;
which meant we were under their protection, and our dinghy was guarded while we
were on the island.
We had just the best day and returned to Askari before dark,
bought two tuna for $5 from a local fisherman and are safely tucked up in the
nearby mangroves. What a total treat that has made our visit to this remote
community of indigenous people who keep their traditions alive, even more
special.
nearby island as we sailed out |