Looking back... years from now... I think I will remember my time in the Amazon Rainforest with a smile and a laugh of disbelief. In all of the travels I've been fortunate to have, I have never been so far removed from civilization, so far removed from the comforts of home before.
The journey to, the journey within and the journey back out of the Jungle (La Selva) was as terrifying as it was incredible. It was a test of both endurance and ability to absorb all that was around. I have literally never had an experience like it before. I will do my absolute best to try and describe it to you below.
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Cuzco -> Atalaya
The trip began a few hours before we boarded the bus on Friday morning. Deciding that we would like to try and sleep as much as possible throughout the trip to the Jungle, we made the obvious choice of going out and partying before leaving at 4:30 in the morning. Since a few of my friends were leaving from Cuzco over the weekend, this would be the last night that I would be able to hang with them. We all met here in San Pedro and sat around with drinks laughing and playing kings cup and some canadian game called "Ninja," then took off for La Plaza de Armas. While I was reluctant at first (I wanted sleep), it turned into a crazy-fun night. We danced for hours at the two big hotspots, "Mythology" and "Inkateam" and didn't leave til close to 3 in the morning. Deciding that we still hadn't had enough, we found the only late-night food spot in the city and chowed down there. We got home with about an hour to spare before our 4:30 am pickup. I took a quick nap, got my stuff together and was rudely awakened by my cellphone alarm clock.
I grabbed my bag, donned my jacket and walked downstairs. Go time.
The 6 of us: Trent and Angela (Calgary, Canada), Mili and Ryan (Nevada, USA), Celeste (Amsterdam, Netherlands) and me, were picked up by a small van who took us past the still-partying Plaza de Armas and dropped us off at La Estacion Terrestrial (the bus station). We had a seat in a small, crumbling room, waiting for 5:30 to hit and our bus to arrive. Sooner or later, the bus pulled up, a kind of hybrid between 4-wheeler and coach bus with seats as uncomfortable as a school bus. We hit the road, climbed up out of the Cuzqueñan valley and then started our descent. Cuzco, as you know, is over 3000 meters above sea level and our destination in the Amazon is right around 1000 meters. This is a vertical difference of almost 7,000 feet, and you don't realize how far that is until you descend it for hours upon hours upon hours. It became clear within about an hour of leaving Cuzco that the roads were going to be treacherous. They are completely unpaved, only worn from years of use. With the rainy season upon us, this meant crossing areas that were completely submerged. As if this were not enough, the road itself winded through the various mountain ranges, clinging to the rock wall on the left and dropping off thousands of feet just to the right of the wheels. As if this were not enough to make anyone squeamish, the "road" is only wide enough for one vehicle, so every time there was traffic in the opposite direction, the drivers would turn off their engines, get out, discuss with one another and then perform a perfectly choreographed dance with 20-ton machines squeezing by one another often with literally inches to spare.
It was slow-going. We never really accelerated past 20 or 30 miles an hour due to the tough road conditions. Sleep was difficult, but welcome, since it brought me a nice respite from thinking about plummeting to my death with every single turn. 3 hours after departure, the descending stopped and we arrived in the tiny valley town of Paucartambo. Paucartambo reminded me of the town of Aguas Calientes in that it was located in a valley along a river next to skyscraping mountains. We were told we had 20 minutes to get out and use the bathroom, but that soon turned in to an hour when the driver realized that one of our tires had gone flat.
When we departed Paucartambo, all of a sudden the roads we left behind seemed like paved superhighways. The road leading us on from Paucartambo was even more narrow and even more treacherous. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about the fact that I'd be making the return trip in the middle of the night. Despite heading to the jungle, we were still very much in the mountains... until we reached an area called Tres Cruces. There... laid out before us was it... the beginning of the Amazon Basin. The mountains dropped off like the edge of a bathtub, and down below, as far as the eye could see was the bush- lush green jungle in all directions. It was a geological formation the likes of which I had never seen before.
We continued on the death-road for a good 7 hours after Paucartambo. It took this long, because of the rains deteriorating the road's condition even further. Finally, about 3ish (I had no watch), we arrived at a hand-painted wooden sign along the road that read "ATALAYA." We grabbed our bags and stood up for the first time in awhile.
Stepping outside I was hit by the humidity of jungle air. The bus pulled away as fast as it had arrived... and we were there. Some of the people from Atalaya had come up to the road to meet us and introduced themselves, mostly from Spain. To get to the reserve we hiked down less than a mile toward the sound of rushing water. Sure enough, a raging river was right in front of us. Strewn across it was a single cable. Underneath the cable, on two wheels was a makeshift basket, a few planks of wood suspended to the wheels with thin metal bars. Rope went from either side of the basket to either side of the river. The water was so powerful that the rope that stretched between the basket and the far side was dipped in the water, being flung by the current violently in the air before re-hitting the surface and being thrown again. You definitely did not want to fall in this water. When it was my turn I threw my backpack on the back of the basket, sat on the front... said the Sh'ma... and then told the guy to let me go. I slid about halfway between the near and far side before momentum ran out and I stopped above the raging waters. After I had a mini-freak-out, I realized I needed to collect the slack from the rope and start pulling, and once I did I started to move to the other side. After about 30 seconds of pulling... I reached the other side. I grabbed my bag and stepped off. I smiled and looked around. I had arrived.
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On Day 1 we arrived and got our bearings straight. From the zip line we walked up a few stairs, across a small wooden bridge and in front of us was the main pavilion with the kitchen and tables. One of the first things I noticed was a monkey, introduced to me as "Chico" sitting on the edge of the pavilion watching us arriving. Gloria, the cook stepped outside and welcomed us with customary besos on the cheek and then showed us to where we would be sleeping. About 200 yards down a path was an even larger pavilion with 4 foot high walls to demarcate small rooms for two people. Each "room" had a mattress on the ground and attached to cables above were mosquito nets strewn out over the beds. Trent and I claimed two beds on the left as you entered the pavilion, and most of the others were right nearby. We put our stuff down and then met the other, more playful monkey "Paula" who liked to wreak havoc by climbing up to the rafters of the pavilion and then swan diving into the mosquito nets. Gloria had some food for us for lunch and it was truly amazing. Remember: no electricity = no refrigeration = no meats/chickens of any type. The fact that she was able to whip up meals that were not only edible, but amazing was so great!
Most of that day was spent hanging around. The jungle- without electricity, clocks, or any contact with the outside world... literally no phone or any way to contact anywhere else- was the most peaceful place I've been in awhile. A small bookshelf held a book that I had always wanted to read: "Into the Wild," and so I grabbed it and started reading.
At 5:30 we all ran to our beds to grab our flashlights as the sun was quickly setting. Around 6, Gloria called us into the kitchen for dinner. Again- amazing. I didn't think I could ever be a vegetarian before... but now I'd consider it. When darkness arrived, we headed off to bed with no idea what time it could be (my guess was around 8). When it's light, you get up... when it's dark, you go to sleep.
Before I left, a friend told me the great thing about the jungle is that even though you're going to one place, you get two very different destinations: Day and Night. Night in the Amazon is a different beast. We are unwelcome visitors in the world of the night in the jungle- and the animals have no problem reminding you of this fact. It is loud... impossibly so. the buzzing of insects is matched by footsteps, far away and close by. Animals scream and yell... it downpours torrentially for 5 minutes and then clears. As I lay in bed, double and triple checking the integrity of my mosquito net, I had one of those where-the-hell-am-I moments. I slept on edge, rising immediately with every creak or loud noise (which happened about 400 times an hour).
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The next morning, on Day 2, the spaniards had returned from town and we finally met the man in charge of the reserve, Álvaro. He told us to eat up because were going to hike through the jungle on La Trocha de los Monos (the Monkey Trail). We donned these funny looking shoes called "Wellies" that were approximately knee-high plastic boots that were water tight. In the rainforest during the rainy season the mud is inches deep, and no other shoes are acceptable. Unfortunately, similar to much else in the rainforest, what things are supposed to do and what they do do are often two very different things. After we set off, while trudging across the first of many deep streams water flooded into my wellies... mine were no longer water tight. So I spent the next 3 hours walking with soaking wet feet. Hiking in the jungle was an incredible experience. The term "trail" is misleading since a machete-wielding Álvaro was required to forge much of the path. We spent much of the hike walking up steep muddy slopes, and I'm pretty sure I was on my ass for just as much time as I was on my feet. Throughout the hike, Álvaro pointed out the many animals, trees and plants that we happened upon. It was as exhausting as it was fun. By mid-morning, we headed back to Atalaya, completely drenched in our own sweat and eaten alive by the millions of bugs who saw us as giant walking hamburgers.
Then, at the suggestion of Álvaro, we quickly changed into our bathing suits and hiked to The Waterfall (La Cascada). This was the GREATEST part of my trip to Peru so far, and I returned every single day to the waterfall to bathe. The falls are about 60 feet or so up and end in a beautiful, natural, two-leveled pool that is about 5 feet deep each. The lower pool is great to bathe and just splash around in, and then when you work up the nerve, you can hike up to the upper pool and the actual falls. Just approaching the falling water means being pelted with unbelievable winds and water flying at you from all angles. When you finally work up to it, you can make it under the actual falls and feel the amazing power/pain that comes with being hit by such powerful water. I could only stand under there for a few seconds at a time but it was the most AMAZING feeling! I took so many pictures and just couldn't get enough of splashing around there. I was like a kid in a candy shop.
We ran home and were promptly chastised by Gloria for being late for lunch (no joke). I quickly changed, apologized profusely in my best Spanish, and then ate her amazing lunch. The afternoon was spent under the pavilion making getting to know my new Spanish friends, reading my new book and watching the rains move in over the river and mountains in the distance. It was so relaxing, it reminded me of my summers in Highview, WV as a kid.
We stayed up a few hours past dinner and then retired to our beds and slept like absolute babies, dead from the activities from the day.
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Sunday is a 'day off' at Atalaya. Gloria, our chef, had the day off, which meant that pretty much everybody would head into town to get fed for the day. Most of the Spaniards took off in the morning, but we decided that a late-morning waterfall trip was in order. This time we brought some shampoo and soap and cleaned off, and of course played around in the water. Again- SO MUCH FUN! Around 1 pm we decided that we would walk to the nearest town (a few km away on the death-road) named Choncachaka and then take a cab to the next closest, much larger town called Patria where we would get some grub. Unfortunately for us, this was the exact time that the jungle chose to start down pouring. By the time we crossed the zip line we were completely drenched from head to toe despite our rain coats. We then had the un-enviable but hilarious task of walking to Choncachaka. It took us about 20 minutes to reach the "town." There is a point, I learned, at which you reach the most wet that you can possibly be- and then from there the only direction you can go is "dry."
Choncachaka is an impossibly tiny town. From it's beginning, you can see the end. There are 3 stores in town. Approximately 40 people live there, and the school serves 8 students. It is the definition of tiny amazonian town.
We were there to reach the next town, Patria. One of the guys with me, who had been in the jungle a few weeks already, suggested that we hitch a ride on one of the few passing trucks. Sure enough, a few minutes later a large enclosed cargo truck covered with a canvas roof rolled down the road. Now, I pride myself on being travel saavy- not making stupid decisions that put my life in risk. Every once in a while, I fail and end up in a potentially terrible situation. Call it youthful ignorance, lapse in judgement, leap of faith or just plain stupidity: this was one of those times.
In order to hitch a ride on this truck we had to get in the back and basically be locked inside the enclosed cab which locked from the outside in. Everything was against my better judgement. But I didn't want to be the one left on the side of the road in the rain. I got in the truck. The door was shut and locked. The vehicle shook to life. We all smiled and laughed at our "predicament," Trent jokingly exclaimed "welcome to the Peruvian sex slave trade!" but we were all masking the truth: I have never been more afraid of my life. I counted the amount of horror stories that I could come up with that started with "then 7 rich tourists hitchiked in the jungle." I am not an overly religious man but I prayed that the men driving the truck did not wish us harm. My brain was on overdrive, trying to figure out how to get out of the canvas-topped, wooden-sided truck if need be. I reached for my swiss army knife that I keep in my left pocket... shit... I left that back safely locked in my bag back at Atalaya. Toward the front of the massive freighter was a small rip in the canvas. I moved an old tire underneath it and then ripped the canvas open so I could see out the front... this made me feel slightly better. 15 long, long minutes later I saw a town. I prayed so hard that the truck would safely stop and we would be let out. The truck rolled through town without slowing down and my heart must have been going about 250 beats per minute. Then... of course... it pulled off. The engine shut off. A door in the front opened, and closed, and a second later the back door was open and a smiling Peruvian man asked us in Spanish if his driving was slow enough for us. We were never in any danger... but boy did we feel like we were.
Back on solid ground I felt like I had lost 5 pounds in sweat from the ordeal. Patria was hardly larger than Choncachaka but boasted one restaurant that we had agreed to meet our Spanish friends at. They saw us walking and yelled out at us and a few minutes later we were sitting in an old rickety restaurant and drinking some Pilsen beer to take the edge off of our hitchiking experience. We laughed about the day, talked about what was safe/unsafe to eat and had a great lunch of undercooked chicken :-).
After a quick visit to el mercado, where we picked up some Pisco, Rum and some sodas we all shared a much safer cab back to Atalaya. That afternoon and night we had so much fun bonding with our friends from around the world. We played "Cucherros" (Spoons) with the losers having to drink pisco without a chaser (not a fun experience, haha) and then taught them how to play some other games. Some of the ladies put together an amazing spaghetti and tomato sauce dish, which was great considering we were planning on not eating any dinner in Gloria's absence. That night we stayed up really late eating, playing, laughing, drinking and talking about our travels, our hometowns and our plans in the future. It was an amazing night. I woke up in the middle of the night to Chico the monkey scrambling to sleep with me at my feet. It was raining outside and he was apparently pretty cold. He tried to get in my sleeping bag, but I wouldn't let him. He hung with me for a half hour or so before deciding I wasn't warm enough and decided to mooch off of someone else's body heat. That night I also had one more awesome thing happen: I had my first dream completely in Spanish. That's never happened to me before and it was a pretty cool experience to have. I guess that means I have been learning!
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On my last day in the jungle we decided to take another hike, this time on a different trail, el trocho de arboles grandes (big tree trail), where we were able to observe some trees that were hundreds of years old and hundreds of meters tall. Their canopies were the size of football fields. We helped in the re-forestation efforts by collecting their seeds and scattering them throughout to make germination more likely. It was suffocatingly hot since the rains the day before increased the humidity by a lot. I kept chanting to the group "La Cascada!" to try and get everyone excited about the cool water that awaited us at the waterfall. Before we made it there, though, we stopped at a swinging vine where we took turns swinging over the treetops. Having heard about a girl who fell recently and was lucky to walk away from the accident and also thinking that my good luck could only last so long, I decided against swinging on the vine.
I should also note that Chico the monkey joined us on our hike, but decided that it was too wet for his delicate feet and so took turns riding on our shoulders. Too funny.
About an hour and a half into the hike we got really lost; the guy who was leading us must have took a wrong turn and all of a sudden we were on no perceptible path. I was pretty frustrated at this point. Having endured about 5 rounds of being drenched beyond belief while climbing up breathless pitches... I was reaching my breaking point. Within about 25 long minutes we had found a landmark and began heading back in the right direction. We arrived back at Atalaya and then set out for the waterfall for what would be my last time.
I took it all in. There's a part of the waterfall where you can't walk through (it's too powerful) but if you duck underneath you can swim beneath the falls to the rocks behind the water. It's the most amazing view, sitting behind the water from inside the falls. Getting there by swimming underneath the falls is a pretty big leap of faith... you just duck down and start swimming, arms outstretched, hoping to hit rocks and then come up safely inside the falls. It was incredible. I couldn't stop just going back and forth, loving every second of it.
Finally at 5:30 it was time to go. Of course it started to rain again at this time too. I was supposed to leave with Mario, who lived in Choncachaka just down the road. We zipped across the river together and then walked up to the road in the rain. At this point he told me in spanish that he was going to ride ahead on his bike into town and I should just follow behind. He told me that when I get to town, ask the people at one of the stores where Mario lives and meet him there. It was getting dark, I was alone... this didn't seem like a good idea... but before I could argue too much.. he was gone.
As I walked those last few kilometers alone on the road through the jungle I couldn't help thinking about everything I had seen and done. My experience was the most exhilarating and frustrating, most incredible and unique experiences I've ever been a part of. Thinking about it, going to the jungle was like getting rid of any room for error. Like living without health insurance. There were no doctors, no hospitals, no police. It was as removed a place as I have ever been.
I arrived in Chocochaka and asked one of the men at the store where I could find Mario. I was humbled when I arrived in his house. Mario, an 82-year-old man lived in a one-room shack with a patchy roof that had water dripping through. We talked briefly about his life, how he has lived in the tiny jungle town for the past 40 years and how he hopes to travel one day. I felt like I had gained a lot of perspective while sitting in Mario's house.
30 minutes later I boarded the bus that rolled through the town. The trip was pretty insane as the driver navigated the curves in the dark. As the only non-peruvian aboard the 30-some person bus it was an interesting trip. At one point, around 2 AM, the police stopped us and raided the bus looking for Coca leaves that locals try and smuggle out of the jungle. I was pretty blown away when they took a woman's pillow and opened up the pillow case to find a huge ziploc bag of leaves- This apparently is a pretty common thing to try and do in Peru. When the lights of Cuzco rolled over the horizon around 5:30 AM, 11 hours after I departed Chocachaka, I was extremely relieved to be home safe. I cabbed home to San Pedro and fell asleep. Happy to be home, content with my amazing few days in the Amazon.
The jungle was an incredible adventure. As I said above, it was both testing and rewarding. In the end, it's the sitting around with my friends, watching and listening and living among the animals and biodiversity that exist only in the Amazon. I will never forget these past few days, speaking for hours in spanish, waking up to a monkey in my bed, hitchhiking between jungle towns and having the confidence to know that I can live through it all. I feel very lucky to have been given this experience... I will truly never forget it.
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