Isla Pinos

Islas Pinos - 09°00,000’N & 77°45,733’W

The village of Pinos has approximately 250 people including children. We were welcomed by the friendly Secretary who told us the ‘rules’ governing Pinos. No photographs, no taking of coconuts, must ask ‘permissio’ to walk along the beaches, hike up the hills, swim, snorkel, (breathe) etc. but all very cordial. We were invited to the celebration of the birth of a new baby girl whereby they indulge in a home brewed concoction, 'chicha', drinking it with great ritual until it is all finished. We were initially told that they started at 7:30 in the morning, however, the resident ‘chemist’ or ‘brew master’ tested the chicha early and claimed it was not strong enough and would only be ready later. Celebrations could only start in the evening. Chicha is a mild alcoholic drink made from fermented sugar cane juice and, I guess, is their version of rum.

We have noticed that there are an awful lot of children in these villages so if this happens with every new birth, they must spend a considerable time indulging! But the truth is, this festivity occurs for girl babies only and only if the parents choose to do so.

We arrived at the large ‘congreso’ hut just after 7 p.m. where a teepee had been erected and seats (long benches) had been placed in two huge u-shapes, separated for men and women. The teepee housed the father of the baby, the man who would pierce the ears, another who would pierce the nose and the fourth man a student learning to carry on the tradition. A continuous procession of food was placed within the teepee while the four men sat in a thick smoke produced from a clay pot with smoldering coconut husks passing a pipe between them as well as a long sausage-like roll of burning tobacco. The burning end of the roll was placed inside the mouth and the smoke exhaled into the face of the other men which they, in turn, inhaled.

While they were performing this ritual, the villagers were starting the ceremony of consuming the chicha. This involved filling five calabash bowls with the liquid, then running, hooting and hollering towards the first five participants. After a little dance to-ing and fro-ing, the men would down the entire contents in one long gulp after which the next five chaps would be served in the same manner. This particular process has to be performed at least four times e.g. each man consumes four large bowls of chicha. By the time it came to our turn, we had learned the dancing ritual and also downed the brown, sweetish liquid four times. Not as bad as we’d anticipated and we thoroughly enjoyed entering into the spirit of the evening. The ladies were a little more sedate as they simply got up and helped themselves to bowls and drank quietly.

Once the mandatory four servings were finished, the ladies left to bring in the baby. She was wrapped in banana leaves with all the ladies dancing around her (Marjatta and I included) accompanied by a couple of the chaps playing bamboo pan pipes. She was then placed inside the teepee, the sides pulled down, while the ear and nose piercing took place. Not a whimper, she didn’t even wake up!

With this procedure complete, the men went off to bathe as did the women, again with all of us included. This involved stripping off with all the other women and throwing calabashes of water over our bodies before returning to the hall for more chicha. We were never too sure what this cleansing process was meant to achieve but it was nice and cooling anyway.

We took our leave at a civilized hour but learned the next day that some of the men were still drinking the following morning. We were told that the chicha is only ever made for very special occasions in this village and that, generally, the men and women don’t drink other than beer. However, when such an occasion does arise, they are compelled to participate unless they have requested ‘permissio’ from the saila not to. If they
don’t attend even with the permission, they are fined $3. Sailas RULE!

The entire encounter was an unforgettable experience. Again, we were incredibly privileged to be a part of the celebration giving us an insight into a culture so foreign to our own. We felt as though we’d stepped back hundreds of years – the sort of thing one only sees on the Discovery channel. This was not something put on for the tourist – it appears that they don’t receive or even want tourists – this was the real thing!

Carreto

Carreto - 08°46,105’N & 77°33,470’W

Travelling now with Terry and Marjatta, an Australian/Finnish couple aboard Lioness, we arrived at the bay and village of Carreto, our first stop in Panama and our first visit to a Kuna village. We had read that Carreto was one of the most traditional villages where television is banned along with photography and filming and visitors are not permitted to stay after dark. Within moments of arriving ashore, we were approached by one of the sailas (the fourth) who spoke a little English and he confirmed that we must pay a fee for the privilege of visiting. This would allow us to stay for a while but quickly added ‘but a month is too long’. He also confirmed that we could not take any photos but ‘maybe some if we paid money’, and yes, we had to leave before dark. He took us to meet the chief Saila who seemed unhappy that we had anchored on the far side of the bay and not beside the village. We explained, thanks to our Spanish speaking Finnish friend, Marjatta, that it was a safer location for our boats should one of the infamous powerful ‘chocosana’ squalls hit. This appeared to satisfy him and we later learned that their concern was, with us being so far away, they were unable to watch should we choose to steal their coconuts.

On the issue of taking photographs, my camera is still back in the US for repair and, as Murphy would have it, Marjatta’s gave up the ghost in Sapzurro. We managed to purchase a couple of rolls of film while still there and have now dug out Paul’s 35mm which is too large to carry around casually. Hence, apart from visitors to our boat and a few excursions with a couple of the local chaps, we have followed the ‘no photo’ rule. This is causing us unbelievable frustration as the village has to be seen to be believed and the women in their traditional dress and beadwork are Kodak moments waiting to happen! I really hope we’ll get photos in some of the less strict villages further up the line.

Approaching Carreto from the sea, all one sees is a palm lined beach, a few dugout canoes (ulus) and one large grass hut. However, through the palms lie innumerable smaller grass huts housing approximately 600 Kuna Indians, half of these being children. The Kunas are a very tiny but well proportioned race of people - most don’t stand beyond my shoulders. We were permitted to wander through the exceptionally clean and well kept village and were met with multitudes of smiling faces and delightful children.

Out at our anchorage, we were visited by a few villagers in their ulus including a young man named Elacio. Elacio offered to take us hiking to see monkeys and hunt for wild pigs as well as show us where we could get lobsters and crabs. He and his friend, Alberto, took us out where they dived like proverbial fish and speared us lobster, crab and a few fish as well as collected conch and large whelk-like shells. The day progressed into a fire on the beach where their bounty was cooked and we had a feast to remember for a lifetime. These were the things we envisioned many years ago when dreaming of cruising the tropics.

The following Sunday, the village was to hold a celebration in honour of Father’s Day and, after a couple of visits, we were all invited to join in the festivities. When the day arrived, we presented the head Saila as well as the fourth Saila with some homemade brownies and, in turn, were given breadfruit and avocado. I think this indicated that we were accepted. Thanks again to Marjatta’s linguistic skills, we received permission to stay after dark to watch. The day involved sports activities for the younger generation which included the amusing but impossible task of climbing a very smooth and very greasy pole to retrieve a bag attached to the top. We came upon a group performing traditional Kuna dancing with the men dancing while playing bamboo pan pipes and the women with maracas. Quite a sight to behold. In the evening, a special table was set aside for their ‘gringo’ visitors from which we listened to songs, hymns and poems by the children to honour their fathers. We certainly felt very privileged.

The following day, Elacio took us into the rainforest to hunt for a pig to roast. We heard one which sent him tearing off into the woods but, alas, no roast pork on the menu that night. We did, however, see a few capuchin type monkeys, marching cutter leaf ants, a beautiful hummingbird and an armadillo carcass, as well as several tiny vividly spotted frogs. These are possibly the frogs used to poison spear tips in the past. Apparently, one tiny frog holds enough poison to kill 500 people. We’d also hoped to come across a pack of the howler monkeys we hear everyday but they remained elusive as well. Nevertheless, it was a wonderful outing and we were able to restock our depleted mango supplies topped off with a few limes, but don’t touch the coconuts!!

San Blas Islands, Panama

The San Blas Islands are a vast archipelago on Panama’s Caribbean coast comprising over 340 islands. They are unique in many ways, home to the indigenous Kuna Indians who have best preserved their culture and traditions out of all the tribes in the Americas. They also boast one of the most untouched stretches of virgin rainforest and cruising grounds of incredible beauty. The islands and the associated mainland territory are called Kuna Yala which has changed little from the times before the Spanish Conquista at which time they numbered between 500,000 and 750,000.

Today, only 55,000 remain after suffering from violent inroads by outsiders. The Kunas rebelled in 1925 and, eventually in 1938, the Panamanian government granted them almost autonomous rule. They agreed to be part of the Republic of Panama on condition that the government respects their tribal laws, traditions and culture.

Through the turmoil of their history, the Kunas developed a socio-political system equal to any of the developed western countries with a strict hierarchy of tribal leaders. Three ‘Caciques’ or high chiefs rule the nation as a whole, each one representing his part of the land and, of these, one is elected supreme leader of the Kuna nation. Each village has a 'saila' (chief) the highest position on the village level who presides over a local daily congreso and has 2 or 3 deputy sailas as well as one or more interpreters of the metaphorical pronouncements of the first saila, a man versed in Kuna traditions. Additionally, they have minor sailas in charge of cemeteries, hut building, communal agricultural projects, etc. and every Kuna must ask permission and pay for a permit to go to another village or island. Their strict policies do not allow marriage outside the Kuna nation, in fact, until recently, it was difficult to marry outside their own village.

The mainstay of the economy is coconuts which grow en masse on the outlying islands. Until a few years ago, coconuts were the official means of exchange with every coconut palm owned by a tribal member even those on remote offshore islands. So far, we have noticed that coconuts are still ‘banked’ at the local shops to earn credit for goods and the Colombian boats trade rice, sugar, coffee, etc for them. The women make money selling ‘molas’, beautiful appliqué fabrics which are intricately made by sewing and cutting different layers of colourful cloth. These form the main part of the blouse worn by the Kuna women and, with the lower half of their arms and legs covered in geometric beaded patterns, as well as gold around their necks, in their ears, noses and teeth, they are a blaze of colour. These molas have become Panama's most famous handicraft and we are approached to buy them in every village we visit.