In the lands of the coffee, from the book, Searching for treasures
Pasto, Nariño, Colombia
“Some of today’s towns and cities began their life that way, you know. They were simply stopovers along the road. They were nothing more than places where the mule trains and their gangs of workers only paused to spend a night. The Caporales or the Overseers were in charge of the work crews. They were gifted in how to treat the animals and negotiate with the merchants on the way. They were a kind of witch-doctors and healers with their animals and their people. It was a daring and undoubtedly noble trade, this adventurous wandering style of life that they undertook.”
“A days’ work was the lapse between one inn to the next. On occasions, it would end on a makeshift, roadside camp. And, what would you say if I told you that distances were expressed in terms of cigarettes, either smoked or to be smoked between two points? Every muleteer always carried a pouch or bag. It was made of leather with folding compartments. Sorta an accordion but without the music. These were called carrieles. They were made out of sturdy leather, many of them elaborately engraved and quite flashy. You can still go to Jericó, nowadays, and see how they are made. The front part is called the cover. It can be etched manually, and many of them turned out to be true works of art, quite impressive at that. Many of them were adorned with hair from the horse’s or mule’s mane. The one I inherited from my Dad, I handed it down to my son many years ago. I’m not so sure, but I imagine that his son has it, or better still, by this time, it must be in the hands of his grandson.”