The fire raged ahead. It was so high I could make out the flames reaching above the treetops on the eastern bank of the river on one of the Amazon’s many tributaries, Rio Mamore. It was an image of destruction, not unlike watching a tragedy unfold on the news with eyes glued to the image, our thoughts running wild in every direction. Here I thought about the macaws abandoning their nests, and the groups of monkeys grabbing branch after branch to flee the billowing smoke consuming the area. I imagined peccaries stampeding through the mud, frightened by the heat and confused at which direction to go. But worst of all was thinking about trapped animals, and the young ones that couldn’t get away. And what about the species of plants so rare and unique to the area, and the trees that have competed for their place on the land, reaching higher and higher for hundreds of years?
Before that moment, I had never been faced with an environmental experience that brought me to tears. I grew up in a very outdoorsy family; camping, hiking, backpacking, and eco-tourism were the general theme of our vacations. But watching a couple hectares in the Amazon Basin of Bolivia burn before my eyes was absolutely beyond my comprehension. It was an experience in nature I’d never really even thought about before.
Earlier the same day, I met members of an indigenous group that has occupied this unprotected section of the Amazon for hundreds of years, ever since their ancestors began recording history. These communities know the land better than anyone, and their entire lives are tied to the rainforest. The fires are typically set to clear a portion of the rainforest for the provision of more land used for growing crops. After a section has been cleared, its soil allows for only about three years of crops. After those three years, it will be another 15 years before the soil is fertile enough again. Thus, every few years, more of the rainforest is being cleared in order to provide room for growing crops.
Despite the harrowing image I witnessed, I felt incredibly defensive of both Bolivia – a country I have come to love – and the indigenous people responsible for the burn. What I find so extraordinary about the most successful human beings is that they possess a remarkable capacity for compromise on the issues they care most about. These leaders accomplish what they do because they are willing to give concessions in order to promote the greater cause. It takes extraordinary character not to run to perpetrators in rage, but approach them in peace.
As my husband and I sat on the boat watching the fire glow, I felt my sense of rage give way to peacefulness. When we entered this world, it wasn’t perfect, and when we leave it, it won’t be. With whatever resources we have available to us, we must do the best we can; and often, the most harmful thing to our cause is our own passion for it. We talked about how one day my husband would come back and teach the indigenous better fertilization techniques that would improve their lives while also protecting the nearby rainforest. Solutions are there, but they require seeing issues from both sides. Progress can never be realized when staring from the outside looking in; it requires standing on both sides of the river.
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