Bonding with the Brunka

The next and final stop of this crazy and wild ride of culture enrichment was in the Boruca indigenous territory where we spent two nights in a homestay, which was a joyful juxtaposition of basic living mixed with modern life. Por ejemplo, the walls of the houses don't quite extend up to the roofs, creating either a slightly-open-to-the-elements atmosphere or a one-with-nature vibe, depending on your mood. One morning, as I groggily pushed open my door, I caught glimpse of a chicken casually clucking around the kitchen. Yet, these houses have electricity and many gather around the glowing glare of TVs in their living rooms.

The Brunka (the people who live in the Boruca area) are so wonderfully welcoming. In groups, we conducted different research projects. My group did household surveys about edible mushroom comsumption and knowledge, going door to door to get responses to our burning mushroom questions.  Instead of knocking here, one must shout ¡Upe! to see if someone is home. Upe is a shortened version of "Ave María Purísima Nuestra Señora la Virgen de Guadalupe." Yeah, I'm still a little baffled about its origin too, but let's just roll with it. It's a version of "we come in peace and only want to have a friendly conversation about mushrooms!"

And oh did people want to have friendly conversations about mushrooms! And gush and gush about these mushrooms for half an hour or more sometimes. Just think if in the States, a group of foreigners rang your door bell and asked if you had time to discuss mushrooms. First off, you probably wouldn't answer. Or you'd think these wackos had consumed some other type of mushrooms before approaching you. But no, the Brunka invited us into their homes, pulling out seats so we could have a little heart to heart about how knowledge of collecting wild edible mushrooms is passed on generation to generation.

Besides being brilliantly kind, the Brunka are also known for making bank from their artisan professions. They specialize in natural dyes and carved, wooden masks.

While resembling a bowl of scrumptious pesto pasta, this is naturally dyed green yarn!

You know what they say...while in Boruca, attempt the art of the Brunka! Our day of research was sandwiched by two different crafts: tie-dye and mask painting. With burning conviction, I can say this was the most intense tie dye I have ever partaken in. Armed with my twisted and tied white shirt in hand, I scanned the scene and approached the natural dye, bubbling in large pots over a flame, with smoke wafting off of them.

The longer you soak the fabric, the more fervent the hues become. But, the longer you stand above the flame, the more smoke fills your eyes and lungs, the more the heat penetrates your skin. It becomes a test of endurance. You know what they say: if you can't handle the heat, get out of the tie-dye arena.

Tie-dye!

Mask painting in the evening proved to be slightly less dramatic (I think the fire kindles the drama flame). Although to see the pre-carved jaguar face better in the dim light, I did wear a headlamp while painting!

Similar to the rice and meat empanadas we made at Boruca stuffed into a banana leaf to cook overnight, this week was filled with such interesting combinations of insights into indigenous living, from a health lens and into their cultural sphere. And the traveling has only begun! On Wednesday, we bid a temporary farewell to the Ticos as we head to Nicaragua for a week, and I'm very curious to see what this neighbor to the north has in store for us!