Main Base

At last we had arrived at Jungle Camp, situated in southern Mexico near the Guatemalan border, and surrounded by Tzeltal Indian villages. Main Base, an established camp with “modern” conveniences such as out houses, running water in the kitchen/dining hall, even electric lights for a little while each evening , would be our home for the next six weeks. The second six weeks we moved out into the jungle. We stayed together as a group at Advanced Base, but each family unit built their own shelter and did their own cooking. More of that later.

At Main Base, we had classes in Bible, Spanish, Woodworking, Small Engine Maintenance and Repair, Clinic, and Culture. By Culture I don’t mean we listened to classical music and studied the fine arts. Rather, we studied the lifestyle of the Tzeltal Indians and tried to learn what to do and what not to do when we visited their villages. In Woodworking, we made beds, tables and chairs out of materials from the nearby jungle. I remember taking a carburetor apart and putting it back together in the Small Engine class. Clinic was my least favorite class. The camp nurse told us about tropical diseases and what medicines would be helpful in treating them, and showed us how to take care of machete wounds. She also taught us how to give shots. First we practiced on an orange. Giving shots was fun until we had to practice on each other.

Siesta time always followed the noon meal. Then we went as a group to visit one of the nearby villages. This gave us opportunity to practice what we learned in our Spanish and Culture classes. On one of these village visits I really embarrassed myself trying to speak Spanish. I meant to make a comment on the weather but chose the wrong word for “hot” and said something I really didn’t want to say. 

These afternoon treks also served as a conditioning program as we hiked the jungle trails up and down hills in the heat. Strange as it may seem, these hikes provided my greatest adjustment problem. For some of the girls it was the bugs and snakes. For me it was the hikes. Let me explain.

You see, I had grown up trying to keep up with older brothers and never succeeding. During my school years, when I could compete with my peers, I made it a habit always to be in the lead on hikes. Now we were in a hot, humid climate. Neither the heat nor the humidity agreed with me, and I had a twenty-five pound boy tied to my back. Our daughter, Jean, walked until she got tired. Then Ed carried her. So here we were, the only family of four, straggling along at the end of the line. That was hard for me to take.

Each Friday, we went on an overnight hike. I usually had to help with supper preparation. Again, I tied Danny to me with a “reboso” and tried to keep an eye on Jean while I helped prepare the evening meal over a campfire. This left Ed to hang four jungle hammocks by himself. On one particular night, dark overtook him before he got all the hammocks hung.

Just before daybreak the next morning, I awoke with a start. I opened my eyes to see a Tzeltal Indian man peering into my hammock. He meant no harm. Just curious. You see, in the dark the night before, Ed had hung my hammock right on the trail that led from a village to the river.