There´s a native plant that acts as venom called barbasco; it traditionally has been used for fishing. It kills anything in the water in the vicinity of it´s potency. I´m not much of a fisherwoman but a bit of barbasco goes a long way. [Human ingestion in high quantities is also toxis, possibly deadly.]
Pretty much the whole Shiguango (pronounced she-wan-go) and their inlaws showed up to the stream about 2 o´clock in the afternoon. The barbasco had been thoroughly prepared and they had just released it upstream. Everone was spread out on a stretch of the stream (somewhat like an easter egg hunt), ready with their baskets.

I was standing next to two young girls who I shared baskets with. Within minutes, I looked down in the crystalline water and could see the irridescent fish approaching; floating down on their sides or bellies up. We plucked, sieved and clutched them out of their habitat and into the basket.
Later that day, each family would make ´maito´(style of steaming with a certain leaf) and soup. The next few hours were spent looking down bobbing up and down in the water to retrieve the massacre´s victims. I can´t say I agree with this method of fishing but nonetheless, I was delighted to spend an afternoon in the company of my community- letting them know that I´m interested in their history, their lives, their stories.
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