The bus trip would be 8 hours in total and I would have to change busses at Pedernales on the coast. It was a very uneventful trip. The only thing that happened is that I have determined 8 hours on a bus is much too long for me. The only hiccup of the trip came in Pedernales where the last bus for Jama left 15 minutes early - an Ecuadorian first. Thankfully there was an overly energetic man at the bus stop who was more than happy to show me to a taxi, for a fee. Yet again I think I was taken advantage of as the taxi was behind the bus (not hard to find) and I suspect that the bus to Jama hadn't actually left.
Since for me it seems nothing can be to easy, my cab driver and I had a little trouble finding the project. I was told it was in the town of Jama, but according to my cab driver it was before Jama. The only thing I knew for sure was that it was beside the Punta Blanca hotel. When we finally arrived at the hotel it was in the middle of nowhere on the side of the road (with no traffic). It took a little bit of snooping around the area before we actually determined this deserted hotel was actually the site of my project.
As I climbed up the hill in search of the volunteer house I was greeted by the ever so warm and friendly Manuel, my project coordinator. While we walked and talked he informed me that the bus to Jama should actually be running. I didn't let that bother me too much since if I hadn't taken the taxi there would be no way I would have found the project.
Once we arrived at the volunteer house I met Yajaira, our chef for the week, and went to settle in. The volunteer house was more like a resort on the coast than a volunteer house. Downstairs housed the kitchen, bathroom and outdoor eating/rest area complete with two of the most comfortable hammocks and speakers playing the best selection of relaxing music I have ever heard. Upstairs housed the rooms for the volunteers. Even though you couldn't see the beach from the house you definitely heard the gentle crashing of the waves against the beach. All in all it was one of the nicest places I've ever stayed.That evening, over a dinner of local fresh shrimp, Manuel and Yajaira told me about the history of the project (Foundation Arena .... sand in Spanish) and it's purpose, while giving me a rundown of our goals for the week (thankfully Manuel, who speaks very good English, recognized my desire to practice Spanish so we only spoke Spanish for the next four days). He informed me that six years ago Foundation Arena was set up to help Jama County with all things related to the beach. Funded by an American benefactor, the foundation focus is to educate the locals on beach conservation, sponsor marine biology reserch projects in the area and work with volunteers to help the fishermen and conservation of the beaches. My tasks over the next few days would be cleaning the beaches and helping the fisherman anyway I can. Manuel was very quick to inform me that they were very open to new initiatives and anything I can think of to help would be greatly appreciated.
Tuesday morning I began my work on the beach. We had an early start in hopes of avoiding the heat of the day, which according to Manuel we did do, although I'm not fully convinced. Today's task was to work at the beach in front of the volunteer house which hadn't been cleaned in about 2 weeks. You would never know. Over the course of the day we probably cleaned half of the 2km beach as we had to both pick up garbage (the contents of which was recorded) and move the wood on the beach to higher ground in order to keep it out of the water and provide fishermen with firewood. Over the course of the day we managed to pick up 31lbs of garbage, everything ranging from shoes (we even found a matching pair of pumps), bottle caps (more caps than bottles), fishing nets, doll body parts and lots of small pieces of plastic. Those pieces of plastic are actually the most important because they were small enough for the fish to eat, among the most destructive to the ecosystem. 
Even though picking up garbage isn't the most interesting thing in the world, the surroundings made up for it. When we got too hot, we went for a swim until we were cooled off enough to start agin. For lunch (because it is the hottest time of the day) we went back to the hostel to have a nap in the hammocks before returning to the beach to clean and swim some more. That evening we sat around the house relaxing, eating fish (with the head and skin still on) and chatting about the political situation between Ecuador and Columbia, which in recent days had escalated due to Columbia attacking FARC guerillas in Ecuador without government approval.The next morning I got up early as I was going to join two local fishermen for two hours of fishing before returning to my beach cleaning. I went with full intentions of helping out wherever I could only to find out they had such thick accents that I couldn't understand what they were saying, and thus couldn't figure out how I could help. So instead, I sat on the bow of the boat and enjoyed my time on the water and observing how they fish. One major problem with this plan is that if the fishing is good, they tend to stay out longer, and today was a good fishing day. We stayed out the whole day I had been expecting only 2 hours) and I didn't have any water, food, sunscreen or jacket with me. Needless to say I got burned to a crisp. They did offer me some lunch as I gather they had come prepared to feed me.
Regardless of my lack of equipment, I quite enjoyed my experience. We were fishing for the giant shrimp found off these waters (I think it was a king prawn) and with the special nets we had (four nets about 150m long and 1m wide with a very fine mesh) we managed to catch about 170 shrimp over the course of the day. The sad part was that we seemed to catch, for every shrimp, 10 fish or jellyfish, of which only 2 were going to be eaten, and the rest were going to be thrown away. This bothered me quite a bit as there was no need to throw away the fish, and those that were being thrown away, were dead before being placed back in the water.
Toward the end of the day we decided to head back as a storm which created some very big waves, struck the boat and prevented us from being able to see the shore. We quickly hauled in all the nets, without removing the fish, and high tailed it into shore where we had to surf the waves in order to make it to the beach (I had the lovely seat on top of the nets filled with fish ..... mmmmmm). Once we reached the beach, the fun of cleaning the four nets started and then the whole town descended upon the boat and started helping themselves to fish (I was given three lobsters which we had for dinner .... well Manuel and Yajaira had them for dinner). It turns out there is an agreement among the fishermen that you can help yourself to fish that was caught that day. Another day when you go fishing, you allow everyone else to help themselves to the fish you caught. Whatever fish is left over gets sold. This is true only for fish. The shrimp belong to the fishermen who caught them, not for anyone else to eat.We spent most of Thursday working in the town of Don Juan helping the local fisherman. In order to get there we walked along the beach picking up garbage as we went. As this beach was more inhabited than the one on Tuesday, there was much less garbage to pickup and we were able to cover 3km faster than on the previous beach. Once in the town we set up to help out the fishermen at Yajaira's brother's bar. While we waited for the fishermen to come in and out, we spent the day hanging around the bar playing pool and drinking beer while I had a chance to interact with the locals and find out about the hardships they face and how they can be helped.
Probably the most interesting thing I learned from spending all that time at the bar is that these people don't need the kind of help one would expect as they passed the town. Even though the houses look run down, the people aren't starving and in dire situations. They are very happy people and never go hungry. If anything they only need some services to help make their lives better. Things like waste removal systems (garbage trucks, sewage treatment) and better education. In fact, even though they don't have the things that Western countries think are necessary, they are probably happier and have a better way of life than we do in the West. They work when they want to, they are happy, they live for the day not the weekend, and most important they are a strong community where everyone looks out for each other.I did eventually help the fishermen. I even went back out on a fishing boat and was able to help them remove fish from the nets ..... I was covered in fish scales, just the way you want to end the day!
We headed off to another beach on Friday. This beach was about 30km away from the volunteer house on the other side of Jama, the largest town in the area. This beach was what Manuel called a virgin beach that was largely untouched. As far as we walked (about 9km) we didn't see another soul. We were surrounded by crisp, clear water, high cliffs and a beach that spread out for as far as the eye could see. The only inhabitants of the entire beach were the crabs .... and boy were there lots of crabs ... hundreds of them that would dive into their holes as soon as we walked by. After combing the beach for a while, we rounded a point we had to reach before the tide got to high and then stopped for lunch. During our break we went for a swim and then ventured to the point where the waves were breaking over the rocks. We got a little too close to the edge. At one point the waves were breaking over our heads created a strong current around our feet that made it very hard to stand up. Even though it was probably one of the dumbest things I have done, it was probably the most exciting and thrilling thing I have done in a long time.
After lunch we started to head back to the local town to catch a bus back to our house, only to find our route was blocked by a high tide. We had to use various techniques, including climbing along the cliff, wading in the water up to my chest (with my bag holding my camera above my head) and running along the beach as the waves pulled back out to sea, in order to make it to our destination. Luckily I managed to keep my camera dry, but none of our clothes managed to stay dry. Along the route we stopped at an old pumping station at the top of the hill, that supplied water to the shrimp farming operations. From there we watched the waves crash high above our heads. Yajaira who was sitting on the edge seemed engulfed by the waves. Once back at the house we sat around and talked about the area and the situation in Columbia (which had subsided) as we had every night. It was the perfect ending to my week on the coast, before I had to head back to Quito on the overnight bus that evening.
