Exquisite Corpse in the Jungle

Poetry in the hot, sweaty, humid jungle? I would have to say that most students were skeptical.  Prior to our departure, we invited Christopher Matthews, a fellow advisor, writer and poet to stop by one of our GIEU meetings to share some tips for writing creatively.  He was wonderful!

Now, in our second week in the jungle, we were ready to give poetry and creative writing another try.  For the exquisite corpose exercise this time, we divided our group of 17 in to three and assigned them topics. Group 1 would focus on challenges they were facing, Group 2 would focus on how they were rising above the challenges, and the Group 3 would focus on how their relationships with nature were evolving.  

We adapted the writing technique created by the Surrealists in the early 1900s by having each group take a sheet of paper and fold it like a fan.  Each student would only be able to see the sentence created by the person before them, prior to adding his/her own line.   We felt it would be a low-stakes way to encourage some creativity.  Sitting in the classroom of the lab, we got to work.  We gave them permission to let go - of grammar, spelling, and punctuation.   The results were amazing!

Challenges

Boots sinking further into the mud as sweat collects on my forehead.

Hoping to become clean and dry, but everything is always wet, even the sheets on my bed.

Even though the pillows smell so bad, what's worse is the omniscient smell of possum.

Just don't smell your soggy, muddy, socks before you put them on your feet.

Or having to eat some random meet, both feet and heart growing weak,

Can't wait to go home where we can meet.

And I can have red-skinned potatoes, greenbeans (crispy and garlicky) and a nice juicy burger.

Yesterday, a cockroach attacked Mackenzie's empty juice box.

Always looking for cinnamon rolls in my socks.

Overcoming

The forest is dense and populated vertically and horizontally with species that are hard to deal with, but you eventually even see them as amazing and a part of more.

Trudging through, step by step, morphs into leaps over leaps.

Breaking the barrier, frustration turns to joy and humidity becomes nothing.

I catch myself enjoying the little things and running out of time to think of the negative ones.

Rain, sweat, humidity and smell - there are moments when it is all overwhelming and I wonder how much more I can take?  But then a cool breeze blows and I catch the flutter of a butterfly's wings and I am happy to still be here.

Oh the discomfort...and I wonder about how man and all his inventions helped him overcome them.  Coming this far, I realize that I didn't need those anymore, because I've grown stronger.  

Return to Nature

A palate of noise, a symphony of hues, and hub of smells.

A cascading overture of birds, ringing like bells.

And the silent church bells summon the ants to a common destination.

Stinking boots - do they appear fertile? - pull spiders in with no hesitation.

Time to set these boots on fire or slam them against the wall for further use in precipitation.

Rain, a source of life and sometimes death, constantly dripping from the leaves.

We walk, not pausing, we feel everything.  What remains?

The vibrance of the jungle, coursing through our veins.

Like the rain coursing down the vines.