Authors: Declan Conner
Destination
It crossed my
mind that this was by far the weirdest experience I had ever encountered. There
I was, sitting next to Leandra on a damned plastic patio chair in the depths of
the rainforest. We watched the
cocaleros’
children preparing the coca
paste, straining it though muslin to remove the mix of toxic chemicals. Quite
the family affair, the camp was a hive of activity. No sooner had the natives
stacked the bales and provisions, than a cocalero walked over and counted them
all. He split one of the bales open with a knife and poured the dried leaves
into a homemade vat lined with plastic sheeting. More leaves followed. Once the
vat was full, he sprinkled in what looked like a scoop of cement powder and
began mixing it in with the leaves by treading them and kicking them around
with his grubby feet.
‘Have you not seen this before?’ Leandra
asked. ‘You look awestruck.’
‘No, I’ve only seen the finished product.
It looks disgusting.’
‘Yeah, it smells that way too, and it’ll
get even worse, what with the acid, bleach, and kerosene that will be going in
there.’
‘You seem pretty familiar with the whole
thing.’
‘My father. Remember, he’s a
cocalero
.’
As I watched in horror, the children
upended buckets containing the toxic run-off from the coca paste down a slope.
Knowing there was a stream at the bottom made me cringe. I thought back to the
children playing in the river. This unit would be just one of thousands. I
dreaded to think what damage they were doing to the environment.
‘Why did he get into growing coca?’
Leandra chuckled. ‘He didn’t get into it.’
She gave me a playful tap on the shoulder. ‘Father was born into it, being from
Bolivia
–
unlike Mother. They’ve been producing coca
leaves in our country ever since the Incas, maybe for at least eight thousand
years. We chew the leaf to stave off altitude sickness, amongst other things.
We even make tea leaves from the plant and sell it in supermarkets.’
‘It’s still a drug.’
‘Really? You know, in its natural form,
there’s nothing narcotic about the coca leaf. I think it only contains less
than one percent cocaine. It’s no different than drinking energy drinks.’
There and then didn’t seem to be the time
and place to be debating the rights and wrongs of chewing the leaf. Although
saying that, I was interested if Leandra had ever chewed the leaves.
‘You said “we”?’
‘Okay, well, not me. My mother is from
Argentina. She wouldn’t allow us to chew on the leaves, but I’ve drunk the tea.’
‘I’m not judging, just asking.’
‘Father never used to be involved with
cocaine. Our main crop was bananas.’
‘Then what was it, the money?’
Leandra shook her head. ‘Sort of. Mother
told me that when the army was in charge of our country, the Junta signed the
UN pact to eradicate coca growing. Then one year, our banana crop failed.
Soldiers turned up that same year during harvesting of the coca leaves and
burned all the bushes. They shot dead some of our farmhands when they tried to
intervene. They had nothing
–
no food
–
nothing. You don’t get food stamps in Bolivia.’
Leandra picked up a twig and poked at the
dead foliage on the ground.
‘So it was for the money
–
and survival?’
‘And revenge. My father’s brother lived on
a neighbouring farm. He committed suicide when the soldiers arrived, along with
an American observer team, and they destroyed his coca crops. After that,
Father travelled to Argentina and that’s where he met my mother. When he
returned, he started to grow coca illegally and to produce cocaine. Later he
organized other growers into cooperatives and he bought their illegal crops. Most
of the cocaine went to Brazil, but then the Mexicans turned up offering more
money and he’s been supplying them ever since. It was better for him, because
they only harvest the leaf twice a year. The Mexicans bought it in bulk and
shipped it direct to America.’
My eyebrows raised and I stroked my chin.
This would be news back at the office. As far as we knew, very little cocaine
worked its way from Bolivia to the U.S.
Leandra continued. ‘When Morales came to
power as president, Father wanted to go legitimate again and apply for
licenses, but Perez had other ideas.’
‘So isn’t that a more likely reason for
Perez to take you captive, and that’s why you’re here?’
‘I’d like to think so, but I can’t discount
Father having a hand in it, or the death of Andreas.
He could have
suspected we were an item.
’
One of the women scooped some coca paste
and filled a five-kilogram mould. She put a star-shaped brander on the top,
placed a board over it and using a press contraption, she ratcheted the gear to
press the final moisture from the cocaine.
‘What do they do next?’ I asked Leandra.
‘They’ll leave it for a while to set and
then pop it in the microwave to zap it and hey, presto, cocaine ready for
wrapping.’
It defied credulity that they would have
use of a microwave here in the forest, but there it was
–
standing on a makeshift bench next to a small generator.
A water bottle landed in my lap.
‘Come on,’ said Carlos. ‘It stinks around
here. This place makes me sick. Let’s get to where we’re going to be billeted.’
‘Thanks for the water.’
‘There are plenty of supplies now that
we’re here. You may want to grab some leaves to chew,’ he said, and taking his
knife from its sheath, he slashed at a bale, scooping a handful of leaves and
stuffing them in his pocket.
‘We can’t be at that high an altitude.’
‘Well, we’re going to climb uphill and it’s
good for stamina, but also, the trees in the forest may give off oxygen early
on, but at this time there’s more CO2 about and it’ll keep you from getting
dizzy.’
‘No, thanks, I’ll manage.’
When I glanced at Leandra, she was busy
loading her backpack. As we prepared to head in one direction, the
cocaleros
handed the natives sacks of the finished product and they set off back to their
village. I couldn’t be sure if it was out of deference to my feelings on the
subject, but Leandra ignored Carlos’s suggestion. We set off walking with
Carlos up front.
I don’t know about coca leaves, but I could
have done with a sports drink. The climb and the uneven terrain took its toll,
sapping my energy. When I was just about ready to collapse, the ground
underfoot levelled. The sound of rushing water greeted us and we came out into
a clearing next to a waterfall, cascading into a gorge. There was a single tent
and the remains of a fire with a cooking pot perched on a stone in the ashes.
We all dropped to the ground and sat,
removing first our backpacks and then our boots.
Leandra tried her backpack as a pillow, and
then inched over to me like a crab on all fours.
‘I need to borrow your lap. The backpack
doesn’t do it for me,’ she said.
Before I could agree, she curled up at my
side and rested her head between my thighs. With Leandra in teenager mode, I
ran my fingers though her hair.
Carlos said, ‘Don’t get too comfy.’
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘Because there’s only one tent and we need
to make something to sleep on for tonight.’ He tossed his knife to me; it
landed on the ground beside me. ‘I need you to cut down some bamboo, and for
you and Leandra to collect some large leaves. I’ll get some vines to use as
twine.’
As I picked up the knife, my mind went into
hyper-speed. Our eyes locked. Trying to put myself in his mindset, I didn’t get
it at all. It seemed akin to removing a prisoner’s cuffs and giving him my can
of mace. But looking around, there wasn’t anywhere to go.
‘What are we making?’
‘Hammock
–
snative
style. Best we keep off the ground.’
‘Can’t we use the tent?’
‘We could, because it’s the
cocaleros
’
tent and they’ll be busy tonight. But if you take a sniff inside, you’ll see
why we can’t use it for sleeping.’
‘That bad?’
‘Afraid so.’
‘Doesn’t it bother you, all the damage
they’re doing with the chemicals?’
‘What can I do? The powers that be don’t
care. I must have burned down more than a hundred camps for the government, but
all we could do was to pour out the chemicals so they couldn’t use them in the
future. There wasn’t the funding to have the cans removed, so everyone is
guilty. Maybe if those who snort cocaine knew the shit that went into it,
they’d think twice.’
‘Amen to that. I think that the users either
don’t care, or the further away you get from its production, the more they
think it must be produced in hygienic laboratories, with staff in white coats.’
‘Whatever, it doesn’t matter which side
you’re on, we’re all pinpricks in the scheme of things.’
He turned away. Subject closed.
When he said he’d worked in Special Forces
with the CIA, I hadn’t thought he might have been involved in
counter-narcotics. I wondered if maybe he’d been seconded to assist the
Columbian army. That would have made sense, because of the terrorists there who
used trafficking to fund buying weapons. Working with the CIA, I could
understand where his command of English came from. It was such a pity that he’d
sold out. I was getting to like the guy.
The mosquitoes arrived in a frenzied search
for blood. Leandra started slapping her face and jumped to her feet. I quickly
followed her, swiping my arms across my face and arms.
‘Nets and spray,’ said Carlos. ‘Then let’s
get to work before we lose the light. There are some nasty creatures out there
when it gets dark. Just don’t venture out more than a hundred yards
–
trip-wires.’
They had picked a good spot. The gorge
covered our rear. The slope would give a commanding advantage of the high
ground. The only way into the camp was ahead and that was booby-trapped. I
wouldn’t have been surprised if the likes of Carlos had used their experience
to pick the spot.
Leandra and I moved into the forest,
parting company with Carlos. Working together, we cut down a stack of broad
leaves and bamboo poles. The trees didn’t seem to be as tall on the hillside.
Up ahead, one had fallen, its trunk locked into the tree with its branches like
two stags tangled by their antlers in combat.
‘I’m going to climb this fallen tree. Maybe
I can see a town or a village from up there.’
‘Be careful, there are no hospitals around
here
–
remember?’
A moment of hesitation and I thought, what
the hell. On all fours, I worked my way to the top. With six feet to go, the
tree trunk felt hot to the touch. The heat in the canopy hit me and I could
taste it, like walking into a sauna fully dressed. My palm stung on the dead
bark as if I’d grasped glowing cinders. Loosening the bandage from my wrist, I
slid it to my palm and continued.
The view was breathtaking as I raised the
mosquito net. Mile after mile of a carpet of forest, with the top of the canopy
not unlike a never-ending landscape of broccoli sprouts. It had to be one of
the seven wonders of the world. Mist swirled amongst the treetops in pockets as
far as the eyes could see, but there was no sign of habitation. Turning, I
could just about make out the gray band of the ocean. For a few minutes, I was
free, walking down the path to my front door at home, the children greeting me
and taking my hand.
‘Kurt
–
please, come
down.’
I worked my way to the ground. Leandra’s
voice had broken the magic. The reality of the situation was that Carlos was
right. Even though I could walk out of there, a city guy would be lucky to make
it out alive. At least Carlos was motivated to keep Leandra and me alive.
Once I was back on a firm footing, we
collected the fruits of our labour and headed back to the clearing.
‘What kept you?’ said Carlos.
‘We couldn’t carry it all.’
Carlos rolled his eyes. ‘We’re not building
a house. Give me the knife and I’ll start with the hammocks. You two can go
back and get the rest and then collect some dry logs for a fire.’
Holding the knife by the handle, I offered
the blade to him. His rifle was leaning against a tree, next to one of the
hammocks. For a brief moment, I paused, gripping the handle, not wanting to let
go. Carlos looked me in the eyes, but didn’t try to take it from my grasp.
‘Now’s not the time, Kurt. Ladies present.’
I knew that I wouldn’t have the guts to
attack someone with a knife, other than in self-defence. That was the second
time he’d considered Leandra. All my training had been in disarming someone
with a knife. Then I realized that Carlos would have had unarmed combat
training. Flicking the knife and catching it by the blade, I extended my arm.
Carlos took the knife and turned his back on me. If nothing else, I hoped it
would gain his trust and by offering his back, it looked as though my move had
had the desired effect.