Monday, July 07, 2008

This morning I woke at 4:30 in a cold sweat and couldn’t fall back asleep. I crawled out of bed searching for my headlamp to scan the floor before I touched my bare feet to its surface. Slipping into my linen pants and cotton shirt, I went to the classroom and began to take deep breaths, beginning my day with a vigorous yoga session. After working for an hour, feeling energized yet relaxed, I strode into the comedor and ate a quick bowl of granola and yogurt before grabbing my camera and walking to the mirador to watch the light change with the coming of day. Cautiously treading the path of brazil nuts, I turned on my headlamp and stepped off the path so as not to wake the people in the cabins lining the trail. As soon as I arrived at the mirador, I switched off my headlamp and covered myself in my sarong and jacket from head to toe to protect my skin from the cloud of accumulating mosquitoes. The howler monkeys roared from a short distance, perhaps near Plataforma, and I quietly listened to them call to the sun. Oropendulas swung from branch to branch, emitting their chaotic variety of vocalizations, from the sound of water dripping to a shrill twitter that travels for miles waking all at the camp.
Pluma and Jesus at Boca Amigo

Tired of being bitten by mosquitoes, I tiptoed into the library and began to write. Nigel asked me to write a story relating to the hunting and disease concerns around the huanganas, so as soon as I felt a sudden urge to write, I knew I had to start immediately, or I would lose the feeling in minutes. Sure enough, I began to tap my keys furiously, my hands barely keeping up with my train of thought. Thirty minutes later, I stopped dead—in part because my laptop battery had died and also because I could smell Don Pascual and Raúl cooking eggs for breakfast. Walking downstairs just as the serving window opened, I received my steaming plate of fried eggs and Renata’s homemade bread with a mandarin orange.


At 10, Brian and I decided to wander to Segunda Mirador for a 3 hour hike to search for birds. Walking quietly, and conversing in low tones, we had no such luck. At the mirador, we looked down upon Cocha Raya and watched a white heron and two horned screamers (birds) tiptoe through the mud flats of the nearly dry oxbow lake. Turning back to camp, we meandered across Sobrevuelo to Aerodromo. In the open air of the retired landing strip, we took deep breaths and looked at the trees on the other side of the strip that took 10 minutes to walk to.Devouring a platter of lentils and stuffed chile peppers, I wandered to the dam to take an outdoor shower in the jungle and then back to my cabin for an afternoon siesta. Waking to the sounds of an aggressive volleyball game, I climbed out of bed and wandered into the comedor for a snack and started to read more about the gold mining process undertaken by the local miners. I was curious to learn more since Nigel plans to take me to a mining village tomorrow morning. There we will speak with the miners about their hunting habits and I’ll hopefully be able to take some photos.



Phantom Hands (Woodland Creeper)

After reading for two hours, I caught a strong whiff of fresh rain and was surprised to see the clouds dumping buckets of rain on our heads. It has not rained in two weeks, so the rain smelled immensely refreshing. As soon as the rain stopped, Will and I put on our walking shoes, grabbed a headlamp and went on a late afternoon walk to primer mirador to watch for birds and caiman. It was late dusk by the time we arrived at the mirador and we sat for a few minutes, observing the river in utter silence. Alas, we saw nothing apart from the general beauty of the forest after a fresh rain. Sitting on a log, it was easy to remain still in hopes of catching sight of movement both near and far, but something took a large bite of my upper thigh causing me to leap up and yelp in pain. We decided to return back to the station, walking as far as we could without using a headlamp in order to conserve batteries and observe the bats swooping centimeters from our noses. We walked in darkness for about 15 minutes, but it became too dark to function without risking stepping on snakes or breaking our ankles on loose roots, so I reluctantly turned on my headlamp and we returned just in time for the first course: hot soup.


Black Caiman, Cocha Lobo (Oxbow Lake)

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

No one had a full night’s rest last night. Rain came at 2 a.m. and again at 4, roaring through the dense tree cover as heavily as a falling tree. Even the heaviest sleeper (i.e. me) could not ignore such a sensation of fresh air inundating the peaceful cabaña. Mosquito net flapping in the heavy wind, I curled under my sheet to avoid the spray of fresh water that filtered through the dusty screens of my cabaña.

Waking on my own at 5:30, I crawled from my bed and put my shoes and warm clothes in my backpack, and walked barefoot to the library in the dribbling rain. The sky had an eerie orange tinge and the old anecdote, “red sky in morning” popped into my head as it did whenever I saw such a sky. The classic phrase held true to its word because no sooner than I had stepped foot into the library, than the sky began dumping buckets of rain which would have soaked me in seconds. We will not go to the mining village today…maybe Friday if it’s sunny. Hopefully the sun will coincide with Nigel’s schedule.

"Friendly" doing a traditional dance at Boca Amigo...yes, her name is Friendly..there's also a girl named Blanca (white), Negra (black), and Chinita (little Chinese girl). I don't know.

I joined a group of students traveling with a program called “Where there be Dragon’s” to go search for orchids on a fallen tree near Yuguntoro. We had no luck finding orchids, but we did run into a family of 10 saddleback tamarins. The students went ballistic, taking photos and whispering excitedly at their first sight of a mammal in the Amazon. The guide, though well versed in Amazonian flora and fauna, was not familiar with the CICRA trails so I led them back on a new trail for some different sights other than those on primer mirador.

After lunch, I put on my boots and did a 2 hour loop by myself, walking from Carrizo to Jean to Perro and then to Aerodromo…at least that was the plan. Despite the fact that I can read a map and despite my strong sense of direction, whenever I’m alone I always end up somewhere other than where I had intended to go. I don’t actually get lost and it still takes me the amount of time to hike that I predicted, but I just end up in random places.