Pacocha

This is a story of a cold and wet drama finishing as a meeting with marvelous people.

It rains hard now, the day was long, our legs tired and our stomach starting to growl. Where can we pitch the tent? The fields are slanted, filled with thorny bushes and stones. It's uphill. Muddy hairpin after slippery hairpin we are approaching the little hamlet of Pacocha where we are hoping to find somewhere flat.

Here it is, a set of old mud-brick buildings, some of them with a roof. No sign of a soul. In the middle a new construction, bright yellow, with a big porch and a loggia. Maybe we can try there? As we go explore, we notice someone in the next old house. Eye contact; and an older women comes to see who could be out in this rain visiting the new village house?

Meli and her younger friend come to us, and in answer to our question "can we pitch our tent?" they invite us to install ourselves in the village meeting room. They move the chairs and desk around, and later admire the construction of an Hilleberg tent on a concrete slab -- and there we spend a happy night.

We are awoken, well before our 5:45 alarm, by life in Pacocha! As we prepare, then enjoy, our breakfast, the whole village passes in front of us: sheep, dogs, pigs, piglets, chickens and finally, the cows. Meli comes several times to enjoy the sunrise, introducing us to the beautiful scene of the Yerupajá and its three summits. She clearly loves this location and we somehow manage to exchange very profound emotions about life.

We see a total of 6-7 folks in the village, two older women, two middle-aged ones, one man and a young woman, maybe more, but no children. They are all happy to see us, and they have a lot to do. (This morning they are arranging thorns to form a chicken fence).

Adios, little village! We love you! How long will you survive?Læs mere