My Experience living the Hunter-Gatherer Diet in South America.
I decided to try the Hunter-Gatherer Diet in Guyana, South America and ended up learning more than I ever imagined.
I was living in the campsite of the house we were building in Silver Hills, off the Linden Highway. We were stationed close to Linden, an old bauxite mining town surrounded by untamed forests.
My brother and I were building his dream home – a small two-bedroom cottage in the forest. His plot was a big clearing surrounded by thick trees that formed a beautiful canopy. He had kept most of his trees along the parameters of his land and it was a pleasure to watch the vibrancy of a forest come alive on those trees. Monkeys, parrots, strange birds, beautiful birds, even a snake or six. It was definitely jungle-living, and I loved every moment of it.
There was a father-son pair who worked with us sometimes, but quite often they would take off for days. It was as though even the campsite was too much civilisation for them. They needed the depths of a quiet and dangerous forest to feel truly at peace. I got that. So, I asked to join them on one of their jaunts.
For the record, the hunter-gatherer diet South America was not a planned adventure. Oh no, this was just me, on a whim, asking to tag along with the father and son team that were “going hunting just up the trail” the next morning.
They assured me it was, “Nah far at all, is jus round de corner.”
On the following short trip we went deeper into the forest, this glorious place in Guyana, SA , and there I lived a mostly hunter-gatherer diet for three whole days.
The next morning I was prodded awake earlier than usual; it was still in the blue-black of a morning, that time when the night fights the dawn before the morning chases it to sleep.
The two guides and I gathered wood for the fire, and fetched water from the rain barrel to make our morning coffee with local coffee beans they had smashed to a course ground.
They packed their rucksacks and we set off on a 5-miles walk to the “next-door” neighbours place. We planned on bartering smoked fish for root vegetables. We used our cutlasses to chop our way, noisily, through the thick vegetation. The reason we had to be noisy was to scare away snakes, and to warn predators of our presence.
We foraged for wild greens and wild herbs along the way. Then we stopped at a creek to (1) quench our thirst, (2) catch fish, and (3) go for a quick swim.
Lunch Time
We found a clearing and they rigged up a ring of creek stones to use to make the cooking fire. We gathered wood, started the fire, and cooked the root vegetables in a pot the father pulled out of his rucksack. Meanwhile the son was waiting for the fish to “bite”.
They cleaned the fish and threw the trimmings back into the water, where strange creatures with vicious teeth rushed to the surface to devour the discards.
During the lunch meal they planned the rest of the day’s activities, which is as basic as it gets – hunt for dinner to take back to our next camp.
We trekked along the creek’s edge looking for animal tracks in the sand. They then set a few traps for an animal. Any animal will do I was told.
At the next campsite, our chores waited. Make a clearing, gather the herbs, gather more wood for the night fires. Clean up the campsite, sling up the hammocks, pull out the trusty, scratchy grey wool blankets. Backtracked to check the traps. This time we paddled up a creek in a small dugout boat they had hidden under a tree. By this time I am completely lost as to how many creeks there are, and how they may be connected, if at all.
Dinner at last
The trap’s offering was an Agouti (a rodent-like animal). We had to fast-paddle back to the campsite to prepare the dinner before the dark of night arrived.
Dinner was agouti stew, with fuzzy squash , a zucchini-like gourd we had traded the smoked fish for. The stew was fragrant with onions and wild herbs. They served this with steaming bowls of white rice, and cups of carnation-milky lemongrass tea.
After dinner was done and the campsite put to rights, we walked single file in the inky night to have the evening bath at the edge of the water. We did not enter the creek, but instead dipped and poured water onto ourselves. Alligators and such love the nightlife, did you know that?
The guides carbon footprint is minimal. The only luxury they allow themselves are the imported tinned milk. The sugar and rice are grown in Guyana. Most of our time on the short trip was dedicated to finding food. Every single meal took hours of planning and hunting and prepping.
There were priceless moments for me. Nothing beats the taste of sun-ripe awaras from an ancient tree. Believe me the bright orange flesh has juice sweeter than honey. Or, the aromas of boiling cassavas and eddoes wafting out of a blackened pot simmering over a coal fire.I learned how to make roasted eggplants stuffed with garlic then roasted on the smoky grill. The soft flesh must be scraped from the skin, then smashed with roasted tomatoes, bird peppers and shallots. I also, adored the taste of fresh-caught trout that was gutted and cleaned right at the creek’s edge, then pan-fried with wild herbs.
Sleeping in a hammock in the middle of a rainforest was terrifying…I could hear the night sounds of predators, the scurrying of their prey’s little feet scuffling across the rainforest floor and up trees. Sleeping in a hammock slung between two trees, in the depths of a jungle is an adventure only a rare few will do. I did it, lived it, and I was utterly happy to get back to my brother’s campsite
I was so lucky to have spent 6 months with my brother in his magical world, he is gone now, lost in that same forest. I will miss him forever, and one day soon his book will hit the bookshelves. His life was one of the biggest adventures I have ever encountered.
Days later as I headed to the city in the back of a pick-up truck I was a few pounds lighter and a few lovely shades darker. I thought of my guides and how they chose to live the lifestyle of hunter-gatherers. They choose to be free. The only alternative available to them – in this emerging economy, now considered one of the richest small country in the world – is to be underpaid servants. They choose not to toil away in the backyards of the wealthy, but instead to subsist on what they can hunt and gather. They barter, do odd jobs, and sell whatever they can find, or whatever they can make to sell. They work for just enough money to be free. Life truly is about wants and needs and perspectives, isn’t it.