DAY Fifteen

Stumbled out of my tent early this morning to boil water for my unfiltered coffee that I have become accustomed to. Early in the trip I was using the painfully slow process of straining the coffee grounds through a bandanna. Now I just lazily filter the grounds (and bugs) with my teeth as I drink.

Otobo and the Pescadero arrived at the worksite and announced that Conan left with a tour group that camp by as they were lacking a cook and he jumped on the opportunity to make some money for the next 7 or 8 days. This news means that besides the fact that Joe and I will be entirely doing our own cooking, we also will be sleeping at the worksite camp without the benefit of a Huaorani protector.
Otobo's family has been hanging around our camp alot more lately. Joe and I still cant get over the fact that his wife, who just gave birth 2 week ago, is now carrying logs and swinging a machete. I am glad I have witnessed this swift maternal recovery as it will surely serve as a time benchmark for what I will consider a sufficient maternity leave. "Honey, I know you are tired for bringing Brian Jr. to term, but when I was in the jungle the women....."--the point in which I will probably get slapped.
Otobo's wife brought their newborn to camp and when I inquired about the name of the child, I was informed that they do not name babies until they are around 1 year old. I threw out the feminine version of my name--Briana--as a possible name although I figure that baby is destined for a name with several more syllables than that.
After lunch, Otobo and I cleared the forest for the site of the first cabin. Once again, it appears that the Huaorani are inclined to build something way too big for what we really need. I begin to address this issue and Caiga (the Repeator) and he abruptly dismisses any notion of changing the size of the structure. I point to the comedor structure, because due to its unnecessarily large size, has taken us alot longer than anticipated. Caiga is undeterred and unreasonable and Joe and I are starting to harbor some serious resentments against him.
Later that night, Joe and I cook dinner gringo style and enjoy a dessert of one small package of OREOs that we brought in. Due to our short supply, our rationing of sweets is pretty comical. We eat the OREOs just like in the commercial--twisting off the top and slowly nibbling at the cream. What once took me 10 seconds to eat an OREO now is drawn out to somewhere like 10 minutes.
Tonight, as we were eating the OREOs, we noticed that someone had ganked one of our precious packages. Joe is ready to hang the Pescadero, as stealing something as 4 OREOs has become in our minds a capital offense, and I initially concur with the placement of guilt although I later change my suspicions to the Caiga's wife, who I saw eating a sucker this morning, thereby revealing herself as a possible sugar addict.