While waiting for the jeep, there was an old man who just came to me, and mimicing a machete with the blade of his hand, put the edge of his hand on my neck and said,
"1950". The message was clear -
he cut-off a head in 1950. Instead of feeling afraid, I was relieved. It means
head-hunting hasn't practised here for 60 years! I wanted to have a conversation with him, and I sensed he was equally eager to have someone pay attention to him. But we couldn't understand each other. In frustration (or perhaps he was just tired), he just slept in the shed. A young villager (mid 20s) who was also in the shed told me that the old man used to be an
NPA commander in the fight for the Chico Dam during the 70s.
