Interning in the Amazon Rainforest

What Protests and Community Taught Me in the Amazon

By: Gabe Nichols, Carleton Extern ‘24

Over the past two weeks that I’ve spent here in the community of Shandia, I’ve learned so much and become more conscious of specific aspects of life that are both common and uncommon to my past experiences living in the United States. I came to volunteer for Manna Project International as a youth development extern and almost immediately encountered challenges that have helped shape my awareness of the problems people face in Ecuador and worldwide. Importantly, while being here I have also encountered many positive aspects present in the community of Shandia which are desperately needed elsewhere and should be followed.

As a youth development extern, my role involved working with the children in Shandia and also originally involved shadowing the youth development program director as he worked in the local school. However, for most of my first week in the community, the students were taking exams so I was unable to sit in on their English classes. While disappointing, I didn’t think this would be a problem because classes would resume the following week. However, as my first week in the community was coming to an end, organized protests broke out within the province over plans to build a maximum security prison in the town of Archidona near Tena. As a result, travel within the region, even between Tena and Shandia became extremely difficult because of man-made roadblocks that had been formed in protest of these plans. Owing to this, school was canceled and did not resume the following week because teachers were unable to travel to work and people across various industries had chosen to go on strike.

I had hoped to be able to witness the process of teaching English at the school in Shandia, yet these unforeseen circumstances weren’t completely negative. These events helped strengthen views I already possessed before coming to Ecuador and led me to realizations that I hadn’t previously reached. As a political science major, the events surrounding the protests against the planned prison construction in Archidona have been fascinating to me, and I was extremely impressed by the rapid coordination it must have taken to organize all of the people who took part in the protests around in the province and created roadblocks in such a short amount of time. Mobilizing the various groups involved in this political action only a few days after possessing widespread knowledge of these plans would have been no small undertaking. Especially after coming to the community of Shandia, I realized the importance of community and the friendliness present within indigenous Kichwa culture. When passing on a street, meeting in a home, or just going about one’s day in the community everyone’s presence is acknowledged, and it is expected that you shake hands and greet anyone you cross paths with. This consciousness of the importance of community and the accompanying close social bonds that come with it I’m certain had to have played a large part in the successful mobilization seen within the protests here.

While it remains unseen if the protests will be successful in preventing this construction, seeing the lived experience of people here has firmly made me believe that the emphasis on community and the acknowledgment of all within a community occurring in Shandia are cultural practices that should be adopted elsewhere and are badly needed in the United States. In my view, these seem to be actions almost essential for greater human flourishing to exist in the world. These recent events have also made me continue to recognize the importance of realizing an education that is accessible to all, as well as the challenges to this realization. Particularly in rural areas in Ecuador and the world, accessing education can become very difficult since the resources present in more isolated areas are slim. Additionally, in rural areas like Shandia, some teachers do not live directly in the community. When it is difficult to travel to an area where one teaches (such is the case with the roadblocks) the educational access of an entire community is diminished. Living in Shandia during this school cancellation has made me better understand the challenges children face in accessing education in rural areas especially due to their remoteness. While these events sound like a mixed bag, they have also made me better appreciate the work Manna Project does for children in the community through after-school programs such as the art program. Despite the cancellation of school, children were able to receive free educational lessons through this program while also being able to express themselves creatively.

I’ve found no easy way to sum up my experience externing for Manna Project that fully captures everything that I’ve learned from living here in Shandia (which explains why I’m kinda rambling in this blog post), but I do have a few key takeaways. Over the past two weeks, I’ve encountered cultural practices that I believe to be essential for people to live harmoniously and with dignity, I’ve grown to better understand struggles related to education accessibility and I’ve been afforded the opportunity to see the important work Manna does for the children of Shandia. Externing here instead of going to some dusty office in the United States is not something I will easily forget and I am very grateful I was privileged enough to come and learn from Manna Project International and the community of Shandia.

Carnaval in the Amazon: Water Fights, Foam Guns, and Community Joy in Shandia

By: Heidi Ho, Program Coordinator, Spring ‘25

EARLY FEBRUARY 2025

I was carrying an empty Tia bag full of bathroom trash to the blue bin outside our Talag home, when I saw Yuleisy and Jaymar, two neighborhood kids running towards me. They were carrying 2 buckets full of water and ready to attack their next victim, who I hoped wasn’t me. I had just showered with cold water–thank you jungle life–and was enjoying feeling fresh and dry, feelings that are rare in Amazonian humidity. 

“CARNAVAL! CARNAVAL!” they screamed, running towards me with mischievous grins, each strike of their approaching shark flip-flops growing louder. Carnaval wouldn’t begin until early March. I was confused, "Are they celebrating a whole month early?"

I had heard about Carnaval through the vague mutterings of excited community members and the solemn warnings of Manna staff, but I didn’t know what I was in for. All I knew was that the whole country would let loose for four days of grandiose celebration and indulgence. 

“Ay no por favor, acabo de bañarme,” stumbling as I spoke. I was milliseconds away from being soaked by my two excited child neighbors, when in the knick of time their mothers stopped them. My shoulders relaxed and I sighed a sigh of relief. 

HISTORY

Carnaval is derived from the spanish words “carne vale” which translates to “farewell to meat.” Rooted in Catholicism, Carnaval takes place during the days leading up to Lent, during which people feast, party and indulge before they have to give something up for Lent. Although Shandia is a primarily evangelical community, the entire region has kept the Latin tradition, which has indigenous Andean, African and European roots. 

While each region celebrates in their own unique way, almost every one participates in one way or another. While not everyone participates in the more extreme activities that are more rough and dirty, it is a great excuse to spend time with family and friends, especially because school is cancelled. 

FAST FORWARD TO MARCH 1-4 2025

The morning of March 1st I was preparing for war. In Shandia specifically, the most common weapons of choice are water, foam, flour, eggs and colored powder.I took me and my five dollar bill to a local shop and bought me and my host siblings all Carioca foam guns. With our ammo, we headed into the battlefield where we would find other fellow volunteers, friends and community members. 

As soon as we got to the beach where festivities were being held, all restraint let loose. Once we spotted people we knew, we attacked them with foam. By the end of the day, I was a soaking wet colorful mess. 

Little did I know that was just the beginning, because the next day was about to be much more intense. No one is safe during Carnaval, because even strangers become predators. I was the victim of a five foot water cannon. 

Additionally, my housemate and colleague Leo bought flour, and he made it clear to me that I was a target. He made sure that when my hair was wet to rub flour into each individual strand, creating dough. I did, eventually, get him back with my foam gun. 

But there is so much more to Carnaval than just battlefare. Throughout all the chaos, there were local and surrounding groups that sang and danced. One of my favorite dances were the traditional Kichwa dances, which were performed by the women of the Shandia community. 

It was a unique period of time where I saw the community come together. No one was worried about anything, and just let go. 

As I walked home, I was exhausted. But, right by the door entrance were Yuleisy and Jaymar, ready for another battle.

Curious what it’s like to experience Carnaval as an intern abroad?
Join us in the Amazon for a meaningful, immersive volunteer experience. Learn more here!

About the Author

Heidi Ho is a public health and journalism student at Northeastern University completing an international co-op experience with Manna Project International in the Ecuadorian Amazon. As MPI’s Public Health Program Coordinator, she supports community-based initiatives while gaining hands-on experience in global health and Spanish for healthcare. Originally from McAllen, Texas, Heidi is passionate about cultural immersion, language learning, and community wellness. When she’s not working, she enjoys trying new foods, dancing, and playing the piano.