Lamia (2 page)

“Yes,” added Patricia.  “Having our first child in a strange country with sparse medical aid was
more than
a little scary.”

“So Maria knows Latin American life very well.”

“Better than we do,” said John.  “She speaks Spanish as well as she speaks English and knows all the customs and superstitions of every area we’ve lived in.  We couldn’t do our job without her.  She even knows the herbs that the locals use in their medicine, some of which are extremely poisonous. 
Patricia is a very experienced nurse
but when we run out of certain medications,
Maria can usually save the day by using the local plant life.
”

I was now beginning to understand their respective jobs.  John held religious ceremonies and offered pastoral care while helping out in the
medical
centre run by his wife.  I guessed that after the
medical
centre was built, we would then construct a chapel.

“What does Maria do?” I asked, trying not to sound too interested.

“Oh Maria’s not here all the time.  She goes to an American boarding school in
Bogotá
paid for with a trust, set up by the church.  She spends her holidays here helping us.
”

My heart sank.  I had hoped that she would be there for the full year.  Then Patricia inadvertently came to my rescue.

“She will be
home
from now
on
; at least until she decides whether or not she wants to go to university.
”

I felt fantastic!  Maria, at seventeen, was a year my junior and I knew that I would have to very respectful, especially where her parents were concerned, although I was not planning anything dishonourable.  I just wanted to start by our being friends.  Nothing wrong with that.

The next few weeks saw the
medical
centre open and there were plans to build a chapel.
  There was always something to do, from the simple day to day chores to searching for fruit or helping one of the local farmers to pull his donkey out of a ditch or repair his house or his fences.  It was not that the locals were incapable of achieving these tasks; it was that most could not afford to do so.  Any wood we had
left
over went to the needy, as did our labour and often the odd meal or two.  The aim was to build a community, not just of worshipers but a social network of help and friendship, based around the church.  The local community was strong but
the aim was
to extend it much further into
more
isolated communities as well.
  John would go trekking for days with Maria, contacting distant communities.  One challenge was that many of them would move from one season to another.

I had been there for several months before Maria stopped blushing in my presence.  She became somewhat of an enigma to me.  While she was generally shy, at work she was just the opposite.  I saw her deal with broken bones and deep lacerations while her mother dealt with more serious cases.  It was as if her training simply took over, giving her the confidence to make decisions.  At times she could be very forceful with some of the patients who were not sure of western medicines.  She could read people well and seemed to know which patients could be convinced and which would only respond to the traditional med
icines, which
she would prepare.

Then came the day when the wood arrived to build the chapel.  John was very busy organising the workforce and sorting out plans he had drawn.  One of the farmers had stopped off at our village on his way from the valley back to his farm and we gave him food as he rested.  His aging Land Rover stood outside, stacked with jerry-cans of fuel.  There were no fuel stations this high up and he, or one of the other farmers who probably shared the vehicle would have to visit the valley again to fuel up.  Maria seemed to know the farmer well and she sat with him as he ate.
  I was helping to stack the wood as John approached.

“I have a favour to ask,” he said.  “Maria needs to replenish her stocks of herbs, roots and other things for her medicine.  Roberto usually takes her up and I usually go with her, but as you can see, I’m up to my eyeballs in this building project
and Roberto is almost ready to leave.  Would you mind going with her?  I know she’d think nothing of going on her own but I wouldn’t feel safe thinking of her sleeping out there on her own for a couple of nights.”

I thought I had died and gone to heaven!  I had just been asked if I minded spending two nights out in the wilderness with the most beautiful girl I had seen in years!  Then I remembered she was John’s daughter.

“I’ll be happy to,” I said, trying not to sound excited.  “Don’t worry, I’ll keep her safe.”

“Thanks Michael.  You’d better throw a few things in a bag and I’ll talk to Maria.”

I went to my room and tried to think of what to take. 
Toothbrush, soap flannel, some aftershave that I had worn during the Christmas celebrations, deodorant.  There was a knock on the door and Maria stood there with her backpack slung over her shoulder.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Almost.  I’m not quite sure what to take.”

Maria pushed past me and walked up to the bed.  She folded my two blankets lengthways and rolled them.  Then she emptied my backpack onto the bed and I noticed a flicker of a smile.  She stuffed the blankets into my pack and then attacked my drawers.  Four pairs of socks, two t
hick jumpers, waterproof trou
sers
, one shirt and a pair of boxers.
  Stuffing them into my pack she grabbed hold of my big coat.

“There, now you’re ready,” she said as she bundled everything into my arms and ushered me out
of
the door
and
towards the truck where Roberto was waiting.

There was no time to argue. 
Throwing
our packs in the back
I realised that Maria’s pack was much bigger than mine.
We
squeezed together in the front, a position which delighted me for two-and-a-half hours.  Roberto did not speak very much English
but he and Maria chatted in Spanish for twenty minutes or so before she fell asleep.  At one point her head rested on my shoulder and I would have loved to have been able to free my arm to put it around her, but with the tight squeeze, my arm was trapped firmly by my side.  I was surprised that Maria could sleep on such a bumpy road but Roberto had to rouse her when he stopped in the middle of nowhere, to drop us off.

“
Muchas gracias Roberto,” she said as we carefully untangled ourselves from the vehicle, retrieved our packs and watched as it drove out of sight.

I stretched my cramped muscles as I surveyed the rugged landscape, realising why John did not want his daughter to be out here all alone.  The sun was quite warm but the air had the chill of altitude about it and I wondered what temperatures the night would bring.  I had promised to look after Maria but I was beginning to suspect that it would be she looking after me.

There were four water bottles on the ground.  Maria clipped two to her pack and I did the same.

“Come on,” she said.  “Time’s getting on and we’ve got some distance to travel.”

“What time is Roberto picking us up?”

“He’s not.  We’ll work our way down to the village.
”

With that she set off up a steep slope with me tagging along behind.  Up above I saw snow-capped mountains and down below stretched the rainforest with its myriad of greens, dense and forbidding.

“I wouldn’t like to get lost out here!” I
remarked, mostly
to make conversation.

“Well don’t!  But if you do, just stay where you are and I’ll find you.  You can’t just wander around here without knowing a thing or two.”

We hiked over rocks
with vegetation in between.
We wandered through a dense fog
which Maria assured me was actually cloud.  Every now and then she would stop to pick some leaves, bits of bark, roots and other objects which I could not identify, placing them
all
in
a
bag.
  I had thought that I was fit, but I found myself flagging as Maria pressed on.  It was a relief when we came to a few small farm buildings, thinking that we would rest there.

Maria approached one of the men who seemed to know her.  We sat on a log while she chatted to him in Spanish, leaving me feeling a little left out by my ignorance.  A woman who I assumed to be the man’s wife brought us some cups of a kind of tea I had never tasted before.  I sniffed it and was looking round for somewhere to secretly empty it, when Maria put her hand on my arm.

“Drink it,” she commanded.  “Make sure you finish it.”

I thought that my not drinking it might have offended the farmers, so I finished every drop.

“Moi bien!” I proclaimed, using the few words of Spanish at my disposal.

Maria and the farmer both glanced at me expressionless, before resuming their conversation.

Eventually the visit was over.  The farmer handed a bag of something to Maria and we put on our packs and continued our trek.  I noticed that my temperature had dropped during our rest and I was glad to be on the move again, feeling full of energy.

I had only just warmed up again when we stopped suddenly.  At first I thought that Maria was collecting some bark that others had been scraping off a tree, but she was simply examining it.

“Not tired again already, are you?” I joked.

“Be quiet!” she whispered.

I watched in silence as she carefully studied the surrounding vegetation.

“OK, it’s gone up there somewhere,” she whispered.  “Come on let’s go.”

I blindly followed her deeper into the jungle, glancing behind me for any sign of whatever ‘it’ was.  The pace was blistering and very soon I had to admit that Maria was far fitter than I.

“Wait!” I called as I sat on some but
tress roots, gasping for breath and fumbling for my water bottle.

Maria turned round and walked back to me.  Taking off her backpack she took out the bag that the farmer had given her.  It
was
full of dried leaves
, two of which she removed before returning the bag to her pack.  Then she produced two small pieces of lime which she put on the leaves
before handing
one to me.

“What got you so spooked earlier on?” I asked.

“Bear,” she said before putting the leaf in her mouth.  “Start chewing.  You’re not acclimatised yet and chewing this will help.”

“Bear!  As in grizzly?”

“They’re not as big as grizzlies, but they’re bigger than you.  It’s all right, they don’t usually attack but it’s best to keep away from them.  Now start chewing, we need to get a bit
further down the mountain
before we pitch camp for the night.”

I put the leaf and the piece of lime into my mouth.  The lime was bitter but eventually the pungent flavour of the leaf took over. 
We resumed our trek and b
efore long my whole mouth had become numb, but at least I was able to keep up.

The leaf was just a distant memory by the time Maria chose to pitch camp.  I was completely worn out and
I slumped down on the ground and helped myself to a cool drink.

“Can you light the fire while I build us a shelter?”

This was the cue I needed.  I could impress her with my fire lighting abilities, except for the fact that I had never actually built a camp fire.
  Still,
I
knew the theory and set about looking for some dry wood.
  Then a thought struck me.