- Joined
- Dec 12, 2011
- Messages
- 6,066
- Reaction score
- 17,079
- Media
- 145
- Member of
- NRA life, DSC, SCI
- Hunted
- Minnesota, Texas, South Africa, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, British Columbia, Argentina, Kansas, Macedonia, Australia, Tanzania, Iceland
Let's see if this story doesn't win me the "AH Food and Drink Fear Factor" championship title. I apologize for the long story, but I feel the scenario and event are very important for this tale. I was a young SF soldier at the time.
We were working in the Chapare Valley of Bolivia and decided to run a "hearts and minds" medical assistance exercise. The Chapare Valley is a red zone for guerillas, terrorists, cocaine, illegal arms and everything else that makes South America interesting. During a medical assistance exercise, we would treat hundreds of people daily and everyone on the team becomes a medic in some capacity. Me and another team member were at the dental station with adult supervision from an Army Reserve dentist. Most of the people coming in were from various indigenous groups and Spanish is normally their 2nd or 3rd language. This often required the assistance of a local that could translate the other language(s) into Spanish for us.
In a few short hours of pulling numerous coca leaf-stained rotten teeth, I had gone from weapons man to OJT dentist.Our Team Sergeant walked up, and he is in a 3-way conversation with a local young man and a young Bolivian Sergeant that is translating Yuracaré/Quechua to Spanish. Our Team Sergeant motioned for us to come over. He immediately explained that a tribal elder is suffering from a bad tooth, but she is too old to walk in for treatment. He told us to pack up everything we need and go with the 2 Bolivians. As we were leaving, he said "you treat this woman like she is your favorite grandmother! Never forget you are Ambassadors for the US!" After a long walk through the jungle, we came to a small village and were led directly to a larger hut on the outer edge. The Bolivians yelled out a greeting and what appeared to be the oldest living woman on the planet came out and greeted us. She had a poultice on her jaw and her mouth was packed with coca leaves. After greetings and pleasantries were exchanged, we asked her to clear her mouth and rinse with a solution we provided. We had her sit in a chair on the porch where we had the best light and proceeded to examine. She had a rotten molar that appeared to be abscessed. After shooting her up with enough Novocain to put down a horse, we commenced to removing the tooth. After digging all around with the elevator tool, I went in with the forceps. From recent experience, I carried the forceps that looked like a big pair of stainless channel lock pliers. She was groaning and laughing as I tugged and yanked. Finally, having shifted to where I had her in a basic head lock for better leverage, I yanked and out came the problem tooth. We flushed her mouth and explained to the 2 Bolivians how she needed to rinse, eat, drink and take the antibiotics we would provide. Any issues or problems, send a runner to the base camp and we will come back. We left them to explain everything and sat under a nearby tree.
The Bolivian Sergeant came over shortly and said what we did was a very great thing, and she wants to bless us. He said it is a great honor and people pay a lot to get blessings and help from her. We were invited into the house and were blessed using a variety of chants, prayers, herbs, coca leaves, smoke, and various dried animals and bones. We thought the grand finale was when she had us strip and rubbed us down with a dried llama fetus, but no, the best was yet to come.
We dressed and she led us behind the hut where there was an old, rusty, Texaco oil drum. She removed the banana leaves from the top and the smell of fermented corn and fruit hit us immediately. This was her chicha "still". Now I must digress for a moment. Chicha is a common drink in the Andean Ridge countries. It is a drink made of fermented corn and sometimes fruits and God only knows what else. Indigenous women make real, traditional chicha by chewing the corn and fruit and spitting the juice into the container where it is concocted into their version of a refreshing, fermented alcohol refreshment. There was no doubt this ancient medicine woman upheld all traditions.
She removed the dead bugs that were floating on top with her hand, and dipped three cans into the barrel, filling them with her "magical home brew". She held up her drink and proposed a toast and commenced to praying and blessing us again. She stopped, smiled, clicked her can to ours and drank it all at once. The Bolivian Sergeant translated everything and solemnly declared that me and my buddy were the most blessed men in the Chapare Valley. We received the full blessing, and she invited us to drink what is well known as the best chicha in the world. All for free!
Keep in mind, we had just extracted a rotted, abscessed tooth from a mouth whose only lifetime dental care had been chewing coca leaves. As I looked at my buddy who had "fight or flight" face, I leaned over, clicked my can to his and whispered, "que no se mata engorda" (what doesn't kill you makes you fatter/stronger), and tossed it down. My buddy did the same. We returned to the base and gave a complete briefback. Our Team Sergeant said he had never been prouder of us and the BN Surgeon declared we would soon die of some unknown disease if God didn't strike us down first for participating in Pagan rituals.
Now I must admit, as far as chicha goes, it was pretty damn good!
Safe travels
I read this aloud and @Just Gina about died laughing...
I hope you represented the USA proudly and put up a good front while being rubbed with that Llama fetus! LOL
