At dusk, on the Rio Aguarico, there are women sitting on stools in the water, their skirts folded up, their laundry in wet heaps beside them. They pound it with paddles, and the soap makes swirls in the brown-green water. Children splash around in their underwear, push each other in, make a joyful racket. A man and his two boys scrub down with soap, jump
in deeper to rinse off. A flock of birds caws overhead to rest in the kings-grass on the bank. The shadows of the selva-jungle-make long arms into the water, hide a few boys in one-trunk canoes-kias-that look like they´re about to tip over with the slightest breeze. But they know what they´re doing. Everyone here does. This river--this is home.

It used to be more so--it used to be source of water, source of fish. But the fish have since died, and they drink rain or well or bottled water now. Lots of things are different now. In the space of 40 years, people like the Secoya, who were once jungle-dwelling nomads, now use solar panals and send delegations to Washington and the U.N.

Context: The past four days were spent village-hopping along the Aguarico. This meant a lot of things--transportation por rio, in a decently long wood or fiber glass conoes, motor powered (we get there faster-we can´t hear the birds) (although those kias made me bien nerviosa); sleeping on the floors in the home of the president of the Cofan community Dureno, and the office in the Secoya community of San Pablo; speaking with various leaders of the Cofans, the Secoya, the Siona, often times in both of ours second language; being followed by a parade of kids, on my way to the bathroom, or eating lunch.

It is hard to sum up what I have heard and seen. Each group has developed a different strategy with dealing with these changes. The Cofans want ´development´ as it means keeping what they have--land and language being the essentials. The Secoyas are a little more pragmatic, and are willing to adapt to make the newly encountered western world work for them, to
preserve culture and environment--eco-tourism will be their way out. And their close neighbors, the Siona--from the brief interview, these people seemed the most concerned for thier immediate survival--¨We want a road built so we can sell our corn and yucca.¨ All of these people are a part
of the lawsuit against Texaco. If nothing else, oil development has given these people a reason to organize, to start developing a plan for themselves. Vastly different from the first interview with Colonos.

Now, we are back in ´civilization´, the tired, dirty oil town of Shushufindi--and after getting heckled by a group of workers cleaning up a spill on the side of the road (uncomfortably close to a river, I might add), it is hard not to compare standards of civility. I sure appreciate a bed. But I never once felt harassed in the vilages.