As we walk the short path from one house to another, the rain soaked paths of our small Neltume compound fill with puddles, growing and growing as the deluge continues to fall. Days of soaking up the sun have past as weeks of rain lie ahead of us. We meander down the road to the nearby waterfalls, passing the vibrant murals with neighbourhood dogs falling in our footsteps. Snow peaked mountains lie behind us as we set our way on the path we’ve come to walk numerous times. Yet even with the small Chilean town of Neltume, surprise, newness, and intrigue still await. In efforts to beat our cabin fever, we recently took a trip over to the Museo de los Volcanes, an ongoing project to shed light on Mapuche culture, indigenous tribes of South America, and the history of the Neltume community. The attractions of such a small community continue to overwhelm as a massive museum emerged from the fog and downpour that surrounded us. Wandering inside, the museum walls were written with words of “Estos objetos del Mapuche muestran las intervenciones que los pueblos originarios realizaron a los elementos naturales que encontraron en su respectivo medio ambiente.” The museum embodied the relationship of people and the land, which has simultaneously been a large focus of our surveying efforts. Wandering the floors, I couldn't help but draw parallels between countries of travels past as the Aborginal culture of Australia described the foundational belief of baranyi yagu barrabugu–wisdom of acting now for the future of our garrigarrang. Garrigarrang is a concept that is defined as "the place of the ocean, plants and animals, the beach, land and estuaries; and the seasons, weather and sky." In short, baranyi yagu barrabugu was a simple notion that one should act with the mindset of protecting his or her environment, quite similar to kaitiakitanga, a guiding principle among the New Zealand Maori. Approaching the environment from a Māori paradigm, environmentalism takes on lessons of spirituality, kinship, respect, and value. The Māori concept of Tikanga dictates a way in which one lives; for if one acts in accordance with the examples set by virtuous people, this is referred to as tika. Embodying such tika is Tāne Mahuta, the god of the forest and a parent to the trees, leader of the kaitaki, the guardians of the forest. Within the walls of the museum, I found the same connection encompassed in the Mapuche traditions surrounding the environment. The Mapuche name Kallinko makes reference to the ngen, the defender, guardian, and benefactor that dwells in Lago Neltume. The current ten or so communities now serve as living embodiments of Lago Neltume, nurtured by their “newen.” Mapuche place a similar value system on their natural world. In native populations, such spirituality of nature is written into the moral code of environmental protection and can even be integrated into policy. Nature is approached as something to be respected and protected, often done so with the Maori concept of Rāhui, which places restricted access on land usage, or the Mapuche concept of Admapu– “el conjunto de simbolos, practices y creencias tradicionales que propugnan que el pueblo mapuche y la tierra, fueron creados por Nguenchen.” Even within Mapudungun, the Mapuche language, words of value surrounding nature fill the pages. Tree– mamëll. Sky– wenu. Mawida– mountain, jungle, forest. For mawida is spoken about with shakin, or honor, something to be protected. As we both descended and climbed countless floors, historical, cultural, and geologic exhibits were abound. And this was just the first of many exhibits. -Micaela
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Back on the road again– for living out of a suitcase has become the norm and plane windows now provide a sense of comfort. Sedentary has become a foreign concept. Familiarity has become uncomfortable. Thus as our plane set down and I set eyes upon the changing landscape, I found myself back in a land of newness, one where the even grocery store shopping incites a sort of childhood excitement and the streets of a small Chilean town transform into unexplored land. Now twelve days in since our arrival, the explorations have begun, faces have become familiar, and the season change has taken full force. Fireside– this seems to have become our place of comfort, of refuge, and of gathering as our DukeEngage Chile group has ventured into the southern hemisphere. Yet even in swapping out swimsuits for sweaters and flip-flops for hiking boots, our first week was one spent of seizing every possible moment to immerse ourselves into the arrestingly stunning views of the Huilo Huilo Biological Reserve we now call home. We are certainly a group comprised of eight adventurous souls. And the exploring has begun. With much of our program’s focus on conservation efforts, what better way to fully delve in than hike the senderos of the reserve? The breath-taking beauty of the land we are fortunate enough to call our backyard for the next two months is hard to truly capture. Mountains of water rush through carved canyons and over cliffs with such force and power. “Salto,” spanish for waterfall, has become a key word in our Chilean lexicon as waterfalls seem to be around every corner. Venturing to the nearby Salto Huilo Huilo, Puma, Leona, and Espiritu, we found ourselves amongst the mist, spray, and rainbows, as countless waterfalls towered overhead. Further trips into the depths of the Huilo Huilo reserve, led by the resident park ranger, allowed us a glimpse at the huemuls, a rare Chilean deer species with an estimated population size of under 20 within the reserve. Conservation efforts within Huilo Huilo currently address the conservation of the species, efforts to maintain genetic diversity, and outreach within the local community.
Hikes to nearby future lake testing sites and guanaco enclosures have provided a further glimpse into the natural landscape of Chile, not to mention a quick photo-op! -Micaela |
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