Christmas in the Village (Darién - Part 5)

On this episode of how the other half lives, I got a flavor of the Embera people's way of life, one of the few remaining indigenous peoples in Latin America.

The village has no cars, no paved roads. Electricity is sparse: solar panels power the few lights and the family refrigerator. They do not have Amazon prime. If you need a new fridge, you're gonna have to haul that thing into a speed boat for a 4 hour ride and roll it into town in a wheelbarrow. Try to avoid the mud.

Houses are built on stilts, with palm or metal roofs. There's few doors and even fewer walls - privacy is a foreign concept. I spotted one satellite dish: $3.75/min to make a call. One outhouse per extended family. 6 months of torrential downpours and 95% humidity year round, yet not a ceiling fan to be had. I'm still not sure how they refrigerate - I spotted a few large coolers. They definitely don't keep ice cream.

A/C one can live without, but not even a single laundry machine? Judging by the volumes of clothes hanging around, that would be a good investment. However, lawns are a point of pride for the man of the house. Mowed religiously every 15 days, a necessity to keep the jungle from taking over. Completely self-sufficient, the families grow all their own food. Children, chickens and dogs run amok, with the occasional pig or cat.

Despite the charming chaos, it's quite tranquil. But never forget you play second fiddle to nature. One minute the cold shower in the outhouse is luxury, the next a spider the size of your palm shows up. Where did you come from, where did you go? I don't know, but now standing naked, under cold water, with only a flashlight, I feel deeply uncomfortable with this power dynamic.

The typical western ambitions and influences are not strong here. Maybe because there's no cellphone signal, the people haven't been indoctrinated by the sirens call of the Instagrams and the Tik Toks. Kids and adults alike play outside, and at evening gather round to sing and dance.

Today the ladies are playing football. One girl is so into it, she tore off her skirt for better range of motion. We could be friends. The chief is playing basketball with the teenagers. Either they are going easy on him or he was a stud back in the day.

As I walk around the village, it really does feel like Christmas. A few days ahead of the holiday, the government workers have come here with presents for everyone - wheelbarrows of clothing, flashing doo dads for the kids. I knew my host Rotalio didn't strike me as a Miami heat fan.

As I walk by, the little kids stop their made up games and stare at me. Too shy to ask, but undoubtedly curious as to why I'm the very opposite of peanut-butter colored. I smile and wave - and suddenly their stares turn into giant smiles as they wave back. We aren't so different after all.

By the dollar, we would call these people very poor - living on far less than a dollar a day. But looking in their eyes, I don't see those signs of despair I've seen in other parts of the world, or even in my own country.