Category: Tales From Green Hell 1978 -1979
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Unholy Tree, Beauty Only Bark Deep
May 3, 1978 This morning, we finished clearing the corner where we would rebuild our houses. There were quite a number of tall Palo Santo trees along the edge of the swamp. The tree was one of the prettiest trees in the jungle, I thought. Though short in a forest of giants, most stood proud…
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I Hate Sewing Bees
My desire for revenge erased most of my headache. I filled a small container with chainsaw gas and poured it over the nest and threw a match on it. With a great “swoosh,” the hornet’s nest was engulfed in flames. With great satisfaction I watched the stinging insect castle burn. As hornets made a beeline…
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Dead Monkeys Don’t Get Dizzy
Later, towards supper time when it was cooler, I went outside to do some facetime with our Yuqui friends. Earlier, Tibaquite had gone hunting and still had not returned. I picked Daniel up by an arm and a leg and swung him around like an airplane doing tight circles. He screamed and laughed the whole…
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Feeling Like A Monkey In The Zoo
In the morning, when the children first appeared at our window, they carried homemade stick toys, sticks tied together to resemble airplanes with wheels and a propeller that turned. They were quite creative in their model building. We greeted them and watched them play for a while. When we quit watching them to pursue other…
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I’ve Been Working On The Railroad
I called the railroad camp old because it had not been used for five years. The rails crossed the Rio Yapacani, the big river into which our little river emptied, but advanced no more. Only a railroad right-a-way, an arrow-straight swath, had been cut through the jungle heading towards the Brazilian boarder, still hundreds of…
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A Hunting We Will Go
Tibaquite abandoned his long bow, but retained one arrow. Running along side an adult peccary, he thrust the pig through with his arrow, wielding it like a spear. He pulled it out, leaving the animal mortally wounded, caught up to a younger one and stabbed it through. With two down, he still did not stop,…
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That Chicken Got Ate 3 Times
His wife Monica joined us, leaned over and smelled the pile of bones still in my pan and said, “Mmm. . . ” I thought that was probably a Yuqui phrase for, “Man, those smell delicious!” She got her husband to smell, too. It sounded like a reenactment of Adam and Eve’s eating the forbidden…
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Tibaquite Comes to Visit
Giving in to my vile impulse, I twisted the lid off the jar, fished out a pepper with a spoon and offered it to our unsuspecting guest. Tibaquite popped it in his mouth, slowly chewed it, and swallowed it. The whole time, Matt and I were laughing, completely focused on his face in anticipation of…
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A Dilemma Of The Heart
I got a letter from my mom and dad, another from my brother, Dennis, and one from Debbie. Those I gladly opened and read with delight. There was also a letter from Charlotte, a girl from my church back in Montana. That one was not so welcome. . .
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To Bee Or Not To Bee
Like every other day since we returned from the Pension, I dropped my soap and towel on the dock, pried off my tennis shoes, and dove into the water. Surfacing from my dive I continued to swim towards the far shore. When I stopped, I heard a loud buzzing in my ears. I blinked the…
Writings By Phil 