Sacred food

From One River, by Wade Davis:

“They believe,” Tim explained, “that as you move from one valley to the next, you must thank the mountain guardians for their protection. Every time they cross over a divide, they place a quid of coca on the rock cairns that mark the high passes and blow prayers into the wind.”

“For everything there must be a payment,” Adalberto said, his thoughts and Tim’s finally achieving a certain symmetry.  He lifted the chukuna stick from his gourd, placed it into his mouth, and bit down on the lime-coated end.  A small trickle of green saliva ran out the corner of his lip.

“You are not Christians,” he said.

“No,” Tim agreed.

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