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we could see the occasional bird fly through the branches, and sometimes, monkeys jumping from tree to tree.

"So," I tried to strike up conversation. "How are you?"

Ramos did not even acknowledge me, let alone respond. Only John looked at me uneasily.

"We've been fighting them for several months now," he explained quietly. "Ramos is angry with them, and he's become constantly stressed. I've also done all I can, but without avail."

"Who exactly?" I was rather puzzled.

"The government, who else," came the bitter response. "Destroying everything."

"Can you elaborate?" I prodded him on. A prolonged sigh escaped him; admittedly, I had not looked in greatly into the matter.

"I am with EarthRights International," John started. "And we're trying to force some accountability on those oil companies. You haven't heard of Occidental, have you?"

I said I had, and waited for him to continue.

"Anyways," they were here up until about ten years ago," he explained. "Made a huge profit, but left the ground in ruins; disease, erosion and death. Many trees and animals died, and the people haven't been able to support themselves. They deny everything, and do nothing!"

"Is that why Ramos is so angry?" I inquired in an undertone.

"Take a guess," came the indifferent response.

So I did, internally that is, and my suspicions were confirmed. We walked further into the forest and Ramos led the way, evidently knowing where he was going.

"See those trees over there?" John pointed towards a grove with a watering hole, and indeed, the trees growing over it.

"Yes," I said.

'Well, that's the result of chemical poisoning. Note the dead lower branches. The water is poisoned."

I scoffed involuntarily. "So they dump waste in the rivers here too?"

"Of course," he replied. "And it's killing the forest."

"How do they plan on extracting the oil anyway?" I asked further out of curiosity.

"The way they do everywhere else. Drill, pump it out and carry it via pipelines; it's a dirty business," John went on.

"What if there's a spill?"

"What does that matter to them," John said grimly. "It's the profit that matters, the rest is sacrificial to them; after all, they worship money."

"Hm," I only managed to voice thoughtfully.

"They chart out the whole forest...the government auctioned off the entire area...and all that remains is the oil companies come in," John shook as he spoke.

Silence reigned once more following his response, only permeated by the sounds of the forest. My feet walked on snapping twigs and damp earth, and it was

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