Before the Leap

The Amazon, Colombia. The region is Putumayo. The monkeys roamed through the land of my elder. This one munched on seeds as it seemingly prepared to assess the strength of the branch it opted to leap to. Wondering, will it hold my weight?

For five months I spent the evenings watching monkeys leap from branch to branch as they went to their resting ground, or, tree branch, shall I say. Mornings were spent much the same for the monkeys. They roamed upstream from Rio Churuyaco, scurrying across branches, leaping in faith the branch would hold, and chattering amongst themselves as they seemed enthused for another day of eating. One morning, a friend and I sat next to the small stream that flows through my elders land. We heard chattering. My friend said, "I bet those are monkeys". Then they came.

A hoard of monkeys began to crawl across all limbs of the biggest tree just across the stream and above a new waterfall that formed only a month ago. Some stopped and ate while others focused on a mission. A mission to move away from the river and towards the hills. One took a leap of faith, flying through the sky, hoping the branch would hold. It did. The others followed the same path as they trusted the chosen branch the others grabbed after the big leap. Full spread eagle they flew through the sky. One after another. The same routine. A line started to form on the branch. Waiting for the ones in front to leap. Then, the branch broke. The monkey caught itself and continued the journey. The next one in line jolted quickly but didn't jump. It was time to reassess. Time to find a new branch to grab after a five foot fall. Another leap of faith, hoping the new branch would hold. It did. The rest followed without a snap of wood as they ventured to their feeding grounds. We watched in amazement, sending sounds of laughter to mix with the jungle noise of monkeys chattering, saceda screeches, morning bird chirps, and the waters flow over the small water fall, slapping rocks as it touches the ground again, only to join the stream of noise that is constant in the jungle we call the Amazon.

That was 2018. I arrived again in January of 2019. But the land was different. I looked across the road, towards where the Andes met the Amazon, and noticed a change. The change was a part of the peace treaty between the Colombian government and the FARC. The once forested land that held the home of birds and insects was now clear cut. The monkeys route destroyed. Corn replaced the trees. Corn to grow for the cities. Corn in exchange for money for the locals. Only, the government didn't uphold their end of the deal.

I looked to the east, across the land of my elder. Again a change. The other side of the creek that creates a natural border between two properties was another clear cut. The creek we sat next to as the monkeys lept just a year prior. The monkeys, full spread eagle, balanced with strong tail and focused mind. Another land was seeded with corn. The exchange was for the Colombian government to provide financial support for the locals to grow corn for cities as the government would come in and uproot all of the coca farms. This region is the frontlines for America's war on drugs as a good chunk of coca used for cocaine used to grow here. Only, the money to help the locals change their economics systems was never able to make it to the people of Putumayo. Along the way, so I was told when I visited in 2021, officials who were supposed to protect the exchange of money took their share. Only pennies would arrive to the Amazon.

Were the clear cuts worth it? The monkeys home destroyed through a deceit of government. Where will the monkeys go? The land, once protected by the FARC through violence, now open for extraction and exploitation. The war needed to end. But through a lie? Peace through lies will never continue.

How will the people of the land earn money to survive? I learned in 2021 a small faction of the FARC started to act in violence again, targeting police and government officials. Tourists were safe I was told. Only time will tell.

The people found another way to live through cattle. The monkeys found another route. But if we continue cutting our trees, will the monkeys have a home? Will the people have a home? Deception at the end of the road of the Putumayo and Nariño departments of Colombia block a peace treaty and hits the heart with a dark arrow to one who loves the leap of the monkey.

Bryan Jae