Notes on the back of a 400-year-old letter have revealed a previously unknown language once spoken by indigenous peoples of northern Peru, an archaeologist says.

Penned by an unknown Spanish author and lost for four centuries, the battered piece of paper was pulled from the ruins of an ancient Spanish colonial church in 2008.

But a team of scientists and linguists has only recently revealed the importance of the words written on the flip side of the letter.

The early 17th-century author had translated Spanish numbers — uno, dos, tres — and Arabic numerals into a mysterious language never seen by modern scholars.

“Lost” Language One of Two Already Known?

The newfound native language may have borrowed from Quechua, a language still spoken by indigenous peoples of Peru, Quilter said.

But it was clearly a unique tongue, and likely one of two known only by the mention of their names in contemporary texts: Quingnam and Pescadora—”language of the fishers.”

Some scholars suggest the two are in fact the same tongue that had been misidentified as distinct languages by early Spanish scribes.

Read the full story from National Geographic.

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The Amazon Medical Project supports the Yanamono Medical Clinic in the remote Amazon basin of northeastern Peru by providing primary care, involving locally trained people and encouraging preventative medicine. The clinic was founded in 1990 by Dr. Linnea J. Smith, M.D., who took her first Amazon rainforest tour with IE. The following is Linnea’s newsletter to her friends and family.

When it rains, it really does pour, it seems.  And as everyone knows, we live in a rainforest.

After a lovely April and May in Wisconsin with Jerry, I arrived back at the clinic to find it busy. Within an hour of my hitting the ground, Wilbert took his leave, off to search for a residency position in Lima. He reports that he did well on the test, but did not succeed in gaining a residency. Nonetheless, he was gone for nearly three weeks. This of course means that I am back to being The Doctor, in addition to administrator, purchasing agent, accountant, personnel director, public relations manager and CEO.

And the busy streak that began as soon as we moved into the new clinic (over a year ago, now!) has not faded.

I spent the first few days trying to unpack and put things away, but kept being distracted by more patients arriving.  Finally, I got away to Iquitos to make purchases, buy medicines, run errands and collect supplies. In talking with Miguel Angel, the curator of the vaccines, I asked if the long-awaited vaccine against Swine Flu had arrived, and he affirmed that yes, it had. Great, I said – can you give me 50?  He acquiesced, we filled out the papers, and I collected the 50 vials along with the other vaccines.

I ran the remainder of the errands and returned to the clinic, hoping to unpack everything, put it away, and perhaps start recording the expenses in the account book; but it was not to be.  I had hoped to get back to the clinic early Friday afternoon, but did not arrive till 4:00. When I walked in, I found that little Elmer Melendez Murrieta, three years of age, had tangled with a cascavel an hour or so earlier. (Cascavel is a small member of the rattlesnake family, whose venom is thought to be much more potent than that of its larger relatives.) He must have really annoyed that snake, because he had reportedly been bitten not just once, but three times.  Juvencio, Edemita and Tiffany, our wonderful June volunteer, had taken a specimen of blood for clotting, and it didn’t clot at all. Furthermore, he was bleeding briskly from his gums.  Then, just in case I was not yet worried, they reported that when he got to the clinic, his foot was pretty much normal except for three small puncture marks; but by the time I arrived, only one hour later, the entire foot was swollen and blue. They were trying to get an IV line in, but without much success. Fortunately, I was able to slide one into his antecubital vein, where they had drawn the clotting specimen earlier, and we got antivenin into him; but unpacking and tallying of purchases and medicines got pushed off till later.

Then, at supper the lodge administrator told me that the only boat going upriver the next day would leave at 5 a.m.  Edemita needed to be on that boat, because there was a group of visiting surgeons who were going to take her gallbladder out on Monday.  Also, Carmen was in the city for her days off, so on Saturday, we were down to just Tiffany, Juvencio and me. And it was a busy day, again.

Sunday was happily a little more calm, with only a few patients, and only a brief worry, when Edemita called from Iquitos to say that she was at the Clinica Stahl, and her name was not on the list of those to be operated on. Fortunately, the leader of the group was expecting her, went looking for her, found her, and saw to it that she got on the list, for Monday surgery.

While Edemita was in Iquitos awaiting her surgery, Carmen, Tiffany and I were at the clinic, and on Monday, we had a total of 38 patients, maybe a clinic record for a non-vaccine day, although it did turn out to be a vaccine day of sorts.  Once I was in the clinic and looked more closely at the vials of swine flu vaccine, I realized that each vial contains ten doses. We thus have 500 doses, and they will expire at the end of July. Having acquired those 500 doses of the coveted H1N1 vaccine, it behooves us to apply them. For years, I have pleaded, cajoled and begged people to get their vaccines, but now, for the first time ever, folks are showing up actually requesting to be vaccinated against Swine Flu. Thus, virtually everyone who comes into the clinic this month who is over four years of age, not already immunized, and not really sick gets the vaccine. We vaccinated 26 people against Swine Flu on Monday alone.  Some had come with other problems, though, and if we discount the 13 persons whose only service was the H1N1, we still had 25 patient visits, which is a very busy day.

The first patient was a man in his 40’s who had come in the day before with fever, body aches and general malaise.  His malaria smear was negative, and I thought he probably just had a viral syndrome. Nothing to do but take ibuprofen to bring down the fever and calm the aches, and wait for it to go away. If he was not feeling better in two or three days, I said, he could come back, but he was having none of it. At 11:00 that night he decided he could not stand it any longer, and returned to the clinic, moaning and groaning. I was relieved that Carmen had cut short her days in the city and returned to work on Sunday afternoon, so she took care of him overnight. Monday, she smoothly triaged, vaccinated, etc., etc., while Tiffany and I did the rest of the work.

Among the patients were several little ones with colds — there has been a wave of respiratory ailments in the last month or two. Monday, the kids were all doing pretty well, but we have seen some very sick babies, including one who died from pneumonia (well, pneumonia and severe malnutrition; at over one year of age, he did not even weigh ten pounds).  Now that many villages along the river have water treatment plants to provide clean drinking water, we are seeing fewer patients with diarrhea, but we did have a couple of those on Monday, too.  Then there was an older man with a very sore shoulder, I think due to a rotator cuff injury; and a 13 year old who needed sutures removed from a laceration he had suffered a week earlier; and an eight month old for dressing changes — he had pulled a big pot of soup over on himself a few days earlier, and burned much of the front of his body, as well as both hands — and our young snakebite victim, who was not yet able to bear weight on his injured foot but who did have less swelling and no more bleeding from the gums.  There were several women for family planning, one for a Pap smear, a couple with urinary infections, and finally, a 26 year old man who had a bad case of pneumonia.

Subsequent days have been similar. Once in a while we get a lull, but we have seen around 300 patients this month, and still have a few days to go. Dr. Wilbert came back to work last Monday, then left again on Thursday afternoon to take a woman in labor into the city. She is not quite 18 years old, and is small even for around here. Her mom and sisters and she are all well under five feet tall, and her pelvis was just too tiny for a baby to squeeze through. Wilbert got her part of the way in an Explorama boat, then they caught a speedboat that was passing, and she had a Cesarean section in Iquitos. He reported later that she and the baby both did fine.

He was still gone, though, on Friday, June 25, and we had 20 patients that day, with only me and Juvencio to take care of them all. These included a young woman who had a terrible breast abscess. I drained it, and you would not have wanted to see what came out. (The nice thing is, with the drainage and the antibiotics, her fever should go down and her pain should improve, and the whole nasty thing, with a little luck, should heal up quickly.)  There was also a 16 year old from a village out on the Napo River who according to his parents had broken his leg the day before. They knew it was broken because they had seen the bone come poking through the skin.  (Why had they not come the day before? — No boat available.) I clambered down the muddy bank and took a look at him in their boat, but shook my head. I could see the wound where the bone had pierced the skin, and knew he needed more care than we could provide, starting with an x-ray to see exactly where the bone fragments were located. His parents were disappointed to hear that we do not have x-ray (hey, I said, we are just a country clinic). I settled for giving him a tetanus vaccine, a dose of injected antibiotics, and a note for the doctor at the government health center at Indiana; and off they went in their pequi-pequi boat.

So far, it has been quite the month.

And, the river is falling daily. Despite the torrential rains in Cusco early in the year, this year’s annual flood was not much. The stream did not even get out of its banks at the clinic or at my house. Now, the water is dropping rapidly, and soon we will be walking across. For the moment, however, each day means negotiating a longer stretch of mud in order to reach my dugout, which I use to cross the stream to get to the clinic. The higher ground has dried out and is pretty firm, except when it rains (did I mention it has been raining a lot, lately?), and then the surface takes on the slick, slippery texture of wet potter’s clay. The farther down I go toward the stream, the softer is the mud … putty, then pudding, and finally slop. Golbert, who lives on the far side of the crossing, has been wonderful about putting out ever longer handrails and pieces of old lumber embedded in the muck to provide firmer footing. It is still quite a challenge, though. The other day, I successfully entered the canoe and pushed off from the bank, only to leave my paddle stuck in the mud as I floated gracefully, backwardly, across the stream. I used my hands to propel myself back and retrieve the paddle, but it was a bit of an operation, and I am sure that Golbert’s family has been deriving daily amusement from observing the gringa’s efforts to get into and out of her canoe.

Now comes a sad note … we bid goodbye to Peter Jenson, aka Don Pedro, on June 20. Peter is the man who came to Peru in the early 1960’s, stayed and founded Explorama. Hundreds of Peruvian workers, past and present, owe their livelihoods to the company that Peter built, and the Clinica Yanamono could never have existed without his generosity in feeding and housing me for many years.

Last fall, Peter was found to have esophageal cancer. His sister lives near the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota, and Peter went there for treatment. Studies showed that the tumor was limited to his esophagus, and surgery was undertaken in January. Unfortunately, just before his return to Peru in May, the tumor was found to have spread, with multiple metastatic lesions.

Peter’s greatest wish was to return to his home on the Amazon, and he was able to do so, and spent several weeks in his beloved rainforest, in his own home. On June 19, he showed a burst of energy and walked as far as the dining room.  That night, he slept through the night. In the morning, it was very difficult to awaken him, and by mid-morning, his breathing slowed, then stopped. We are all grateful that he went without pain, in the comfort of his home, with Pam and his faithful nurse at his side.

In these parts, the custom when someone dies is to hold what is called a velorio, which is a sort of wake. Friends and relatives gather to bid goodbye to the deceased for the entire night, and burial takes place the following day. In Peter’s case, the Amazon Queen, Explorama’s three-decker large boat, brought him from his home at Ceiba Tops 25 miles downriver to the Yanamono Lodge, so that employees and friends there could say their goodbyes, then back up to Iquitos where residents of the city who had known him had an opportunity to pay their respects. Hundreds turned out at each stop, including the first one near the Lodge, despite the fact that the Amazon Queen arrived at 10:00 at night. At noon on June 21, he was cremated, and one day soon, his ashes will be spread over the rainforest from the highest platform on the canopy walkway, which was his desire. I can think of no more fitting farewell for a man who made such an impact on so many people, over so many decades.

Rest in peace, Peter. After more than 40 years of adventurous living in the Amazon, you deserve it.

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This is the fifth installment in a series by Wayne Zanardelli, an IE guest who generously shared notes from his recent Amazon adventure aboard La Amatista. Get caught up with Part I, Part II, Part III, and Part IV here.

Today we go piranha fishing.

We motored up river until we found a narrow waterway about 20 feet across that had cut through very high saw grass. We pulled into a small, tree-covered cove and broke out the bamboo fishing poles. Each pole was about seven feet long with an eight foot line tied to the end and then a small hook.  The bait was raw meat and chicken. We were fishing for red piranha, the meat eaters. Not all species of piranha are carnivores.

I got lucky and caught the first one, a six incher. George grabbed the fish and removed the hook. The mouth on these things is scary big with razor sharp teeth. This guy was thrown in the basket and flipped wildly for about one minute.  George caught the next one and then Ginny, who caught the largest of the day, nabbed a nine incher (piranha don’t get much larger). Dan and I caught a total of eight and the group caught 27. Our driver strung them on a stick. We are going to eat these babies for lunch.

During our fishing, a large howler monkey entertained us for 20 minutes. He was only about 15 or 20 feet away enjoying our attention. The river is two miles wide here and 65 feet deep. Further downriver it becomes six miles wide. We were back by 11:00 — in the rain, by the way. Lunch included our regular food and fried, freshly caught piranha. They were very good — there just isn’t much to eat.

We were out again at 4:30. We saw birds, naturally, but we also saw huge wasps’ nests and huge (two inches long) ants, the latter known to inflict extremely painful bites with the pain lasting 24 hours. Hernando said he was bitten by a wasp last week and his wrist was swollen to the size of a softball. Several years ago he was bitten by one of these ants and said it felt like a knife was thrust into his ankle. It is a reminder of all the perils that await a human in the jungle. We were back in time to catch the band and drink pisco sours.

A little about the food on board: It is uniformly very good and not really very unusual. We have had a few different drinks like purple corn juice and green tomato juice, but for the most part we had orange juice, papaya juice, mango juice and bottled water to drink. We had some native fish that were very good, manioc, which tastes like potato and lots of plantains; but otherwise, it was all familiar and well prepared.

Sunset tonight was particularly gorgeous with all the water reflecting the brilliant colors of the sunset and tall trees at the horizon.  It is magical.

This being our last night on board, the captain and his officers, crew chiefs and head chef came into the dining room.  The captain, a tall, handsome man, spoke to the group with George translating. It was a warm, humble, heartfelt and gracious speech. Everyone at my table was crying. I looked around the room and everyone was crying.  I’m not sure I can explain any of it except a strange, family-like bond developed in the seven days.

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853 days ago, Ed Stafford took the first steps of what would become a record-breaking trek, following the length of the Amazon river as it winds its way across the South American continent. After experiencing countless insect bites, violent run-ins with hostile natives, and his fair-share of folks who doubted he could do it, in a matter of days Stafford is set to finish his momentous 4,000 mile journey. Now, after 853 days traveling along the world’s second largest river, Stafford has finally made it through the jungle and the most harrowing portion of his trek. On August 9, he is expected to finally reach the place where the Amazon empties into the Atlantic. “For Cho and I, the jungle has been a place of adventure and it’s also been our normality — it’s been our ‘home’ for so long now,” Stafford writes to CNN. “I will dream about this place for the rest of my life.”

Carrying little more than a backpack with survival gear and a laptop computer, Stafford wrote frequently about his adventure on WalkingTheAmazon.com, Stafford’s Web site devoted to his record-breaking, continent-crossing trek. Although he started his journey alone, Stafford was soon joined by Peruvian Gadiel “Cho” Sanchez Rivera who wanted to help the Englishman survive the perils of the Amazon — which haven’t been few in the over two years the pair has been walking together.

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These expert Peru travel tips were given by our Peruvian Expedition Leader, Jorge Salas-Guevara. Expedition Leader Jorge is a favorite among International Expeditions guests, having led expeditions to the Amazon, Orinoco, Antarctica, Trinidad, West Africa, Patagonia and Papua New Guinea. Jorge’s “expertise” on all things Peruvian is beyond refute — his research and photography has been published in history books, and he has worked extensively with the Smithsonian, World Wildlife Fund and National Wildlife Federation.

1. When visiting Cusco, Peru, find free time to stroll through the streets of the San Blas District. This is where the artisans have made their homes, which have mostly been turned into workshops, classrooms and shops. Here, the older generation of artists share their knowledge and teach their children and grandchildren the handicrafts of Cusco in order to keep the traditions of their art alive. Treasures abound and one can always find that special handicraft that will truly remind them of their magical journey through the land of the Inca.
2. Don’t Miss: T’anta Restaurant in Lima, Peru. Located in the San Isidro district, T’anta is one of Peruvian culinary star Gaston Acurio’s moderately priced, café offerings. With delicious, freshly juiced drinks and inventive soups, pastas and a variety of options from a New Andean cooking style, Tanta’s sidewalk cafe is a great lunch spot in this trendy Lima neighborhood. (Editor’s Note: I recommend sticking to the appetizers so you can leave plenty of room for dessert!)
3. Lima is recognized as the culinary capital of South America and is full of really great restaurants. Add a few days in Lima to your next visit to enjoy some of them. Don’t miss ceviche at La Mar Restaurant, a chita a la sal at Costanera 700 Restaurant and a pulpo a la oliva in any seafood restaurants. For dinners you can’t go wrong with Rafael, Central, Fusion and Astrid y Gaston.
4. When visiting Peru is almost mandatory to enjoy a Pisco Sour, the national cocktail made with pisco, a local brandy. One of the best experiences while in Lima is to enjoy one at La Huaca Restaurant located right in front of a pre-Inca temple. Enjoy a 45-minute tour of the archeological remain and crown it with the local beverage at the restaurant overlooking the remains just when it is illuminated after sunset. (Get traditional Pisco Sour recipe here.)
5. Shopping in Peru is very good and the main products to look for include alpaca, pima cotton, Andean textiles, silver, pottery, music, coffee and chocolates. While in Lima, there are two places where you can find these products. Both are located in the Miraflores district. The first is the handicraft or Indian Market, an outdoor market with vendors from the whole country. The prices are fair and the offer is wide, but double-check the quality as it is variable. Bargaining is expected here and credit cards are not widely accepted. The second is Larco Mar, a mall that overlooking the bay of Lima, with good restaurants and cafes. Here you will find top-quality stores, all of which accept the main credit cards and where bargaining is not expected but superb quality is guaranteed. As a note, Larco Mar is the second most visited destination in the country, after Machu Picchu.

And one last tip from Kim Guth, our Peru Custom Travel Planner.

1. A bit of France in Machu Picchu — who knew! Indio Feliz Bistro in Aguas Calientes came recommended to me as the best restaurant in town… although from the outside it seemed just like another basic place with bland food. Talk about not judging a book by its cover: this place was amazing!  Each of the eight tables downstairs was immaculately set with crisp linens, attractive dinnerware and a vase of lilies, hibiscus and other beautiful flowers.  In one corner was a working fireplace. Everything I sampled would not be out of place in a fine Paris restaurant — minus the prices and attitude.  The meal was a dream. The fresh bread and red wine from Chile rounded out the experience.

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This is the fourth installment in a series by Wayne Zanardelli, an IE guest who generously shared notes from his recent Amazon adventure aboard La Amatista. Get caught up with Part I, Part II and Part III here.

The small village we will be visiting looks pretty ragged.  According to Victor, it has a population of 200 and there is a school there. We boarded the skiff, sailed around to the other side of the La Amatista, pulled up to a muddy bank and disembarked onto a partially grassy soccer field. Directly in front of us is our first stop — a one-room school house.

Inside the school, already seated in small chairs (there were no desks), were 21 village children ages four to 11 in kindergarten through sixth grade. They were all as cute as a button and well behaved. George, our resident raconteur, music rapper, naturalist speaker and gifted teacher, spoke to the kids, all the while moving his arms up and down and racing about the room making them laugh.

They sang a song, counted to 10 in English and we, in turn, sang to them, also in English (there are no linguists in the group). George had us introduce ourselves and the kids then repeated our names. Then George introduced the kids and we said their names. The kids then stood and sang the Peru National Anthem (a very long song, by the way). Hernando then gave our group school supplies to pass out to the kids and the anxiously awaiting adults. The adults may have been more excited than the kids to receive a pen. I was at once very happy and very sad.

In the village, a well constructed sidewalk runs perpendicular to the river. I’m guessing it is about 500 yards long. Along the length of the sidewalk were power lines. All the homes have electrical power.  The crops they grow here also ran the length of the sidewalk — cucumber and yucca where they harvest the manioc or tapioca root. One of the local men demonstrated the harvesting of the manioc. First, he cut down the tree with a machete. He then grabbed the trunk, gave a hardy pull and the tubers (roots) came out of the ground. Each plant has four to six large tubers each the size of a sweet potato.

Dan volunteered to harvest one as a demonstration of our groups’ capabilities. They handed him the machete and he handled it like a pro — chop, chop, chop, the tree was down, a manly yank and the manioc was out. We all cheered. He then became a folk hero to the local folks.

A tidbit:  George explained that a kid in the village can only continue his education past elementary school if he has friends or relatives in Requena who will provide room and board;  otherwise they are doomed to the rough life of their parents. It broke my heart.

Our next launch is at 4:15 to visit another village and meet their medicine man. Here again, the ride from our boat by skiff took 30 seconds to mud steps carved into a steep bank. The village was built perpendicular to the river. The current school building which lies about 200 feet from the river was one mile from the river just a few years ago. It is currently being dismantled and moved further inland. Can you imagine?

The main street is dirt — now mud from the rain. The houses are shabby huts on stilts with thatched roofs that look badly in need of repair. The town has a water tower and water purification system for drinking water and cooking. Prior to the system being installed several years ago, dysentery was a major health issue for the children of the village.

The town had a nice soccer field and a number of the locals were playing a game against some of the crew from our boat.  Three, four and five year old kids were running around playing and laughing and just being kids. They were all adorable.

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This is the third installment in a series by Wayne Zanardelli, an IE guest who generously shared notes from his recent Amazon adventure aboard La Amatista. Get caught up with Part I and Part II here.

The captain started the engines at 6:15. It is overcast and extremely humid. Yesterday felt long — I am hoping for more diversity today, and the early group returned and indicated they saw a large number of parrots, macaws and parakeets.

The water current is very swift. The shallow banks of the rivers are being constantly eroded by the current, causing the trees and vegetation to collapse into the water. We see examples of it every day — trees leaning precariously over the water.

We leave at 9:30 and will be taking a shortcut along a different body of water. How our skiff drivers navigate this place is amazing since it all looks alike in every direction — brown water and thick, impenetrable jungle.

The service on the ship is first rate. Everyone is very helpful, always polite, always smiling.  We are always greeted by name and everything is spic and span.

Our pilot left the main river and turned into a narrow tributary.  As soon as we turned into the tributary, we saw more pink dolphins. We continued up the waterway and it felt like I was truly in the real Amazon for the first time — the thick, tall jungle surrounds you here and it is strangely quiet except for the birds and the occasional monkey. The water is crystal clear and is called “black water” since it is deep and clear and appears black as you look into the water from the boat. The surface is like a mirror. As we continued, we came to an area of dense vegetation covering the water’s surface and it went on acre after acre. The vegetation is water hyacinth in full bloom with large purple flowers standing erect above the greenery. Also part of this dense collection is water lettuce, a non-edible, small smooth leafy plant. These enormous masses float on the surface and are not anchored by roots to the bottom which is 20 feet down this time of year. Our pilot pushed against the mass with the bow of the skiff until a large section would start to move. He would reverse the engines to pull back and clear the props of vines and then push forward once again until he cleared a channel. It was a tedious procedure of slow, incremental progress, but amazing to see.

We saw a large number of bird species, several types of monkeys, tree sloths and frogs. The air was very still with temperature and humidity off the charts. Whew! Our guide handed us a chilled washcloth to cool off and freshen up. It was heaven.

Another tidbit: Each evening on the observation deck, e have a band made up of our guides, Victor and George, the expedition leader — Hernando, the chef — Pepe, and two cabin boys who play the keyboard, guitar and wooden flute. They play well, but are greater entertainers. The guides have an encyclopedic knowledge of anything that grows or lives in the rainforest. It is truly uncanny since there are 1,600 bird species alone. Their stories and insights about the people, their culture and the land are fascinating. Both George and Victor were born in the rainforest and grew up there until moving to Iquitos for their education. While both guides have accents (Victor heavier than George), both have a rich English and scientific vocabulary.

A small glimpse of American culture: Hernando was whistling the theme song from Sesame Street yesterday. I laughed since I recognized it immediately, but wasn’t sure I could have come up with the melody on my own.

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With school back in session and two full-time gardeners, a lot is happening at the IE-funded Las Malvinas urban garden project in Iquitos, Peru! During a typical week, over 300 students regularly come and go for classes in the gazebo and hands-on work in the garden. Our in-country partner sent this update.

The vegetable area is starting another season, and the beds have been replanted with a variety of vegetables — cucumbers, sweet peppers, cilantro. We also have some experimental plots dedicated to growing horseradish with different amounts of natural fertilizer (chicken droppings), plus peppers planted using two different methods of ground cover which protect the surrounding soil from serious rainwater leaching.  Implementation and evaluation of these experiments are being made by the students. Our papaya trees, only just recently planted, are quickly bearing fruit and our passion fruit plants are thriving.

The medicinal area of the garden is smaller by comparison but is showing strong growth as we’ve planted the most commonly used medicinal plants in the area — achiote, hierba luisa, hausai and rosa sisa.

The ornamental flower area is starting to get more attention.  This is a great asset to the garden as it brings together many examples of rainforest flowers all in one place for students and guests to enjoy.  Rarely does one see a broad range of rainforest flowers together in the wild.  We’ve been nurturing a number of new marigold plants and we’re buying seeds to plant more.  Marigolds are a great deterrent for ants which continue to be a challenge to control in the garden since we’re using only natural methods. We recently made the purchase of almost 100 bougainvillea flowering plants to run along our fence line.

About Las Malvinas: Housed at a public school, the Las Malvinas urban garden project is the centerpiece of an IE-funded environmental education program. Teachers use this outdoor classroom to teach environmental awareness, biology and language arts to the school’s 1,000 students. The Garden is home to a vegetable garden, medicinal plant garden and two ponds.

Learn more about the Las Malvinas Garden and how you can support the project at Traveler’s Philanthropy.

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U.S. Fish and Wildlife officials are planning an unprecedented relocation of 700-800 clutches of sea turtle eggs from beaches of Alabama and northwestern Florida to the Atlantic coast. The oil spill coincided with turtle breeding season. If allowed to hatch along the Gulf, the baby turtles would likely swim directly into the mass of crude oil spewing encroaching on Alabama and the Florida panhandle.

While nest have been relocated individually, relocation at this scale has never been attempted anywhere in the world.

Most of the nests designated for removal are those of the loggerhead turtle, the world’s largest hard-shelled turtle, growing to an average adult weight of 250 pounds. The loggerhead is the most prevalent of five species of threatened or endangered sea turtles that inhabit the U.S. Gulf Coast, others include Kemp’s ridley, leatherback and green turtles.

Teams will dig up eggs from the nests, placing them in special containers covered with sand and shipping them by truck to the Atlantic coast of central Florida.

Read the complete story at www.reuters.com.

For updates on how the Gulf oil spill is impacting wildlife, please visit the National Wildlife Federation.

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While it make take years to study the impact of the Gulf oil spill, in the middle of the Peruvian Amazon, thousands of miles from the BP rig, oil spills have been a fact of life for more than 30 years.

In villages like San Cristobal, the indigenous Achuar people believe their maladies are caused by exposure to oil. They suffer fainting spells, vomiting, chronic diarrhea, headaches and skin infections.

According to locals, “There’s a stream where we always go to fish, and it’s always had oil on top. We catch fish there and eat them. We catch fish there and eat them. The fish drink the water, and since we eat them, the oil must get into us that way.”

“This riverside village of open-air, wood-and-thatch homes is remote, and medical research is seldom carried out here. But government doctor Alan Castro thinks health problems in San Cristobal can almost all be explained by malnutrition.

“But a Peruvian government study published in 2006 found that most indigenous people along this river had unhealthy levels of lead in their blood and 95 percent exceeded the healthy limit for cadmium. Lead and cadmium are associated with oil spills.

“Whether the cause of these health problems is oil spills, other changes brought by outsiders, or a combination of the two, the Achuars’ quality of life has worsened since oil companies arrived in the Amazon rain forest and little is being done to help them.”

Read the full story on NPR.org.

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