An Accidental Homestay in Cacaoland

David cuting open some cacao

The result, suculent, sweet fresh cacao.  

The road toward Caranavi is as I remember it.  Though over two years have passed since last I bounced along it, it seems the same hairpin curves and precipitous falls dot the path from La Paz down into the region called the Yungas.  A long five hour ride bypassing what used to be the “world's most dangerous road” (now only open to bicycle traffic) winds past Coroico, the beautiful mountaintop town, continuing its circuitous 3300meter drop to the dusty working town of Caranavi.  This is the service center of a vast region which grows everything and anything including delicious cacao and Bolivia's most sought after coca.  The town itself is populated by prodigious chicken-eaters and car mechanics. Never has a chicken pecked its way into town that was not promptly fried and served on a plate of rice.  Nor has a broken down car coming from La Paz ever been disappointed by the sight of the fifty or more mechanic shops forming the gauntlet that is the entrance to town.  But this market town full of revelers on a Wednesday night was not our final destination.  The bumpy road continues on, and we followed it past Sapecho and on to Palos Blancos where I am currently sitting writing surrounded by dinosaur toys, and game consoles. 

Aldaid with his beloved pods--he sometimes had 10 in his arms.

My path here was as unpredicted as the road was uncomfortable. I met Ana Maria in Atesania Sorata, the store from which I buy most of our alpaca knitwear.  Within minutes we were talking about a  visit to the organic herb cooperative she supports through her NGO and her family's cacao farm.  Plans were made and two weeks later here I find myself.  The plans however never did include who I would stay with, or what I would be doing.  She was going on vacation back to her family plot where her daughter was tending the cacao, and I was accompanying her.  Unwittingly, as it seems most things are here in Bolivia, I have become their guests and could not be happier.  The family is well educated, having made their living from being part of El CEIBO, the nation's cacao association which is made up of over 50 cooperatives each with an average of 35 members bringing it's member population to well over 1000.  Ana Maria and her daughter, as members of El CEIBO are currently attending an assembly o all the cooperatives, while I accompany David (the daughter's husband) on his tasks as an agro-forestry consultant—they hire someone to tend their plot of cacao.  Although I haven't yet visited the cacoa plantation I am looking forward to doing so tomorrow. 

Piles of harvested cacao pods

 I should be here until the 28^th when we head back to Caranavi.  Although I don't much like the prospect, I have two days of waiting there before Diane and Ron (of Artesania Sorata) come to join me to present at the town's annual fair.