Sugar Factory

We were wandering high up into the mountains of the Henri Pittier National Park, north Venezuela, with our guide, Pedro,through the forests away from the Caribbean. The path was littered with farm houses and shacks (my thought was "how do they get their cars up here?", until my brain clicked in).

Of course all transport is on foot or by burro.

This one was employed bringing sugar cane from clearings in the forest. Once a small patch of the forest is roughly cleared, the new light can nourish sugar cane, maize or plantains, all crops that die off once harvested. Eventually it grows back and so sustains itself. Family groups or cooperatives then harvest the crops, and where possible, process them themselves, such as this place.
An ancient Lister diesel engine powers a crude crusher, where the liquid juice is seperated from the cane.


The liquid runs down to a vat where it is boiled, the furnace being heated by the dried waste cane.

Once the heating process is complete the sugar is ladled off where it takes various forms: some to be sold at the roadside,
some exchanged and some to be consumed on the premises.


Needlesstosay, this is work for men and boys: women and girls are invisible, so once they have walked for supplies, nurtured and cleaned the younger children, cleaned the shack and washed the clothes, and done the cooking, and probably done their share in the fields, they can go to the local hairdresser, to have their hair straightened (planchado de cabello), if heritage hasn't provided you with fashionable straight hair.And thus avoid the view of forreners while working just as hard