So, at last I have made my break from the jungle, with some sad goodbyes to my friends there, and to the birds, and the place itself. They were three months I certainly will never forget.
Now I´m playing tourist again in Cuzco, where I´m spending a week exploring. The city is really beautiful, rich in history and culture, with too much to see in only one week. I arrived just before a rain storm and was dropped off by my taxi with my huge suitcase at the bottom of an enormous stone staircase which I had to climb up, with my heart pounding as if I had just run a marathon due to the extreme altitude change (Tambopata is about 180 meters above sea level, cuzco is about 3,400 meters). Instantly I found myself surrounded by a group of curious children dressed in their school uniforms, impressed with the size and weight of my suitcase. A few of them insisted that they help me carry my case up the stairs, and eventually, as the rain began, all but one ran off to their homes. The last one, a little girl, probably 7 or 8, helped me the rest of the way and when I arrived at my hostel, we said goodbye "ciao, amiga". Too cute. My hostel, after all the stairs, has a magnificent view of the city and is run by two really warm, welcoming women who gave me a cup of coca tea upon arrival (to alleviate the altitude sickness) and who made me a beautiful breakfast this morning.
Today I´ve spent the whole day just sortof wandering around, as I like to do my first day in any city, just taking it all in. I´m a little bit hindered by my labored breathing and a constant headache, but it´s gotten better since the beginning of the day. There is so much to see here... I´m charmed by the women in traditional garb, looking as though they are of another time altogether with their bowler hats and full skirts and colorful blankets carrying bundles of flowers, babies, and other mysteries on their backs. Everyone here has rosy cheeks from the cold and the sun. The city itself feels really really old (as it is.), with tiny cobblestone streets that have been walked down for thousands of years. The buildings are all white-washed with terra cotta tile roofs, built precariously and ingeniously into the sides of fairly steep mountainsides. Their are stairs to climb everywhere you go, as the city is so steep, and was designed long before automobiles, so there´s lots of built-in exersize to exploring (slow exersize. Even the locals walk slow, as it is impossible to get enough oxygen to support fast movement).
Tomorrow I´m going to do some exploring further afield but still within the city limits, to a few Incan sites, and then the next day I´m taking the trip to Macchu Picchu by train, then maybe a day trip to a village a couple of hours out of the city, for a glimpse of real Andean life (or something close to it).
All in all, It´s all quite wonderful and I´m happy as always and forever enjoying the view. I´ll write more when there´s more to write.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Amazon life, part 2
So, it´s been a ridiculously long time since I´ve last written something here and I´m not sure that when I press ¨publish post¨ this will even work, as in the past it has not, but I´m going to give it a try.
My jungle days are coming to an end and I´m at the point where I´m looking back on the past two and a half months and being able to look at them a bit more objectevly and recognize just how amazing they have been. There have been hardships, mostly the sweating and the bugs and the sore muscles and exhaustion, but all in all, the pluses have completly outweighed the minuses, and I think this experience will be one of the coolest and most amazing ones of my life. I´m feeling more inspired than ever by travel and by genuine experience and I know that I am not going to be able to keep myself from getting back out on the road once I´m home for a while.
About a week ago the last chick fledged and I was lucky enough to see this incredible moment. I am the only climber left on the crew and was thus climbing this nest every day for about a month, taking the chick out, and measuring her, getting to watch her grow and develop and gain her strength and personality... I got really quite attached to her and felt that she and I shared a special bond, despite the fact that she tried to bite me every day. Anyhow, on the last day, I climbed up to the nest, where I could see her sitting in the entrance way looking out over her jungle home. Her mother was in the tree beside us, calling out, as the parents do when the chick is about to fledge, and I could see Amor (the chick) trying out her wings, thinking, looking at her mother, thinking some more, until the mother flew off her perch, and Amor took the leap and flew off into the forest for the first time. I was left just sitting up in this tree with an empty nest in front of me, just amazed that I got to see such an event. In general I feel just incredibly lucky these days that I´ve been able to have such a genuinely incredible experience. I see the agenda for the tourists out here, who have a guide assigned to them who is by their sides at all times (wisely so), and who are taken around for a few days to ¨see¨ the jungle. They go on the trails close to the lodge, take it easy, and hopefully see something great. I think most people leave feeling like they did indeed have a great experience, which is great, but I feel like my experience has given me an infinetly more intense and intimate glimpse into the jungle that so few people (especially from places like Massachusetts) get to experience. Every day out here I go out miles and miles from the lodge on transect walks that take me over (sometimes through) rivers and swamps, where I´m on my own, with my machete, where I can just soak up this incredible place at my own pace and through my own guidance. The nest climbs, too, have given me the ability to view the jungle in a way that so few people get to see... and to connect with the macaws in such an amazing way. I will have an affinity for these birds for the rest of my days.
Anyhow, I´m going to stop ranting about how amazing everything is, as I´m feeling the need to write something cumulative once I´m entirely finished, and will perhaps post that in the future.
Last week I went down river for a little ¨family vacation¨ to Puerto Maldonado with the other three guacamayeros, Augusto and Cate, and Stacy, as there was a big concert happening in town and all the guides and staff members were going to attend. The concert itself was pretty fun, lots of dancing and drinking beer and having a good time. I think Stacy and I must have been the only two gringos in the crowd... definetly a very local sort of scene. Lots of fun. The next day one of the guides offered to take me for a motorcycle tour of Puerto, which I was a little terrified of, but which seemed like an opportunity I couldn´t pass up, and didn´t. It was a little harrowing at moments (dirt roads totally washed out from the rain, no lines on the road, no traffic signals, hundreds of other motorbikes and rickshaw taxies in the road, no helmet, so on and so forth), but all in all, a really wonderful night.
Now I´m back in the jungle, safe and sound, and am getting things ready for my departure in 5 days.
There is a huge thunder storm looming in the distance right now and so I´m going to wrap this up and post it so that I dont lose it when the electricity inevitably goes out, or we´re hit by lightening (again).
I´ll write more once I´ve gotten back to civilization.
My jungle days are coming to an end and I´m at the point where I´m looking back on the past two and a half months and being able to look at them a bit more objectevly and recognize just how amazing they have been. There have been hardships, mostly the sweating and the bugs and the sore muscles and exhaustion, but all in all, the pluses have completly outweighed the minuses, and I think this experience will be one of the coolest and most amazing ones of my life. I´m feeling more inspired than ever by travel and by genuine experience and I know that I am not going to be able to keep myself from getting back out on the road once I´m home for a while.
About a week ago the last chick fledged and I was lucky enough to see this incredible moment. I am the only climber left on the crew and was thus climbing this nest every day for about a month, taking the chick out, and measuring her, getting to watch her grow and develop and gain her strength and personality... I got really quite attached to her and felt that she and I shared a special bond, despite the fact that she tried to bite me every day. Anyhow, on the last day, I climbed up to the nest, where I could see her sitting in the entrance way looking out over her jungle home. Her mother was in the tree beside us, calling out, as the parents do when the chick is about to fledge, and I could see Amor (the chick) trying out her wings, thinking, looking at her mother, thinking some more, until the mother flew off her perch, and Amor took the leap and flew off into the forest for the first time. I was left just sitting up in this tree with an empty nest in front of me, just amazed that I got to see such an event. In general I feel just incredibly lucky these days that I´ve been able to have such a genuinely incredible experience. I see the agenda for the tourists out here, who have a guide assigned to them who is by their sides at all times (wisely so), and who are taken around for a few days to ¨see¨ the jungle. They go on the trails close to the lodge, take it easy, and hopefully see something great. I think most people leave feeling like they did indeed have a great experience, which is great, but I feel like my experience has given me an infinetly more intense and intimate glimpse into the jungle that so few people (especially from places like Massachusetts) get to experience. Every day out here I go out miles and miles from the lodge on transect walks that take me over (sometimes through) rivers and swamps, where I´m on my own, with my machete, where I can just soak up this incredible place at my own pace and through my own guidance. The nest climbs, too, have given me the ability to view the jungle in a way that so few people get to see... and to connect with the macaws in such an amazing way. I will have an affinity for these birds for the rest of my days.
Anyhow, I´m going to stop ranting about how amazing everything is, as I´m feeling the need to write something cumulative once I´m entirely finished, and will perhaps post that in the future.
Last week I went down river for a little ¨family vacation¨ to Puerto Maldonado with the other three guacamayeros, Augusto and Cate, and Stacy, as there was a big concert happening in town and all the guides and staff members were going to attend. The concert itself was pretty fun, lots of dancing and drinking beer and having a good time. I think Stacy and I must have been the only two gringos in the crowd... definetly a very local sort of scene. Lots of fun. The next day one of the guides offered to take me for a motorcycle tour of Puerto, which I was a little terrified of, but which seemed like an opportunity I couldn´t pass up, and didn´t. It was a little harrowing at moments (dirt roads totally washed out from the rain, no lines on the road, no traffic signals, hundreds of other motorbikes and rickshaw taxies in the road, no helmet, so on and so forth), but all in all, a really wonderful night.
Now I´m back in the jungle, safe and sound, and am getting things ready for my departure in 5 days.
There is a huge thunder storm looming in the distance right now and so I´m going to wrap this up and post it so that I dont lose it when the electricity inevitably goes out, or we´re hit by lightening (again).
I´ll write more once I´ve gotten back to civilization.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Amazon life, part 1
So, finally I'm able to update you all. I've arrived (obviously), and am starting to get into the groove of jungle life. I dont really know where to begin... There are 4 other assistants out here, as well as a field leader who acts as our boss (although he's more of a friend than a boss..) everyone gets along quite wonderfully. At first I was a bit intimidated by how close everyone was but now I'm starting to feel like one of the fold and it's all good. We definetly have fun as we work and I think everyone here shares a feeling of being lucky to be part of such a project. We live, work, eat, and sleep together and it feels like a big multi-cultural funny family. There are also a few guys who do maintanance work, an awesome chef and his assistant, the two boatsmen, the lodge manager, and occasionally tourists who stay in a seperate area. We all live upstairs from the bio-labs and the guide rooms (the guides come when the tourists come to show them around and take them on different types of walks through the jungle) in a big thatched roof very simple structure with open ends that let the air, bugs, occasional birds, and bats in. We all have our own little room seperated by bamboo walls and cloth curtain doors. I'm provided with a mosquito net (thank god) and lots of clothing line in my room to hang all my disgusting soaking wet clothes at the end of the day.
An average day usually starts with my alarm at 4:15 when I get up, stumble around with my headlamp to get dressed and get my things together for the morning. I always remember to check down the legs of my pants with my flashlight before I put them on but I have to say, there has been nothing lurking there so far. We leave the lodge by 4:45 and hike out to the boat port where we get into a boat and take a short ride upriver to the colpa (the clay lick) where the birds flock to every morning. (or, alternately, a marsh on the other side of the same island, where we listen and watch for birds arriving to the colpa and record whatever we see/hear) At the colpa we're recording the time and abundance of each species to use the colpa. On sunny days in particular it's an amazing display, with so many colors of birds being illuminated by the sun. My favorites are the blue and yellow macaws who are a sky blue color on their heads and backs and brilliant golden yellow under their wings. When the sun hits the bottoms of their wings it's just incredibly beautiful. Especially when there's 50 or more of them flying at the same time. Amazing. So, around 7:30 we radio back to the lodge and have the boat come back for us, then we eat breakfast and get ready for our other morning activity. Usually we're climing in the late morning, we're split into pairs, one person will climb a tree with rope and a harness and the other stays on the ground to take measurements of the chick that the climber lowers down in a bucket from the nest. I've climbed three nests so far (many more in the future, I'm sure) and it's been interesting. The climbing itself is incredibly physically demanding. By the end of the climb my arms hardly feel like they're attached to my body any more. I'm sure that with time I will gain strength, and so it will get easier. The view from the top of the trees makes it entirely worth it, however. Macaws like to choose the tallest trees of the forest to nest in and so once you're up there, there are not many other trees taller than you. Because you have to lower down the chick and then the other person has to take all kinds of measurements of it, you just sortof hang up in the tree for half an hour or so, waiting for them to return the chick, so you have time to just look around and enjoy the view (or, alternately, be tortured by bullet ants and sweat bees, depending on the tree). Yesterday there were monkeys moving through the branches in the tree next to me and checking out me, a strange site to them, I'm sure.
The actual removal of the chick from the nest is quite eventful as well... The mother usually pokes her head out of the nest as you're climbing up and starts to growl at you and sometimes yell... Once you get to the nest the first thing you have to do is get rid of the parents, which is done by taking a stick and poking it at her, or, if it's an artificial nest hanging from a branch, you can shake the whole nest and throw off her balance so she'll fly off. Some times it's easier than other times and sometimes she'll attack, flying at you all pissed off with her claws out... that's when I just sortof cover my face and yell back and hope she'll leave me alone. Once that's dealt with, you get to the nest and have to remove the very unhappy and uncooperative chick who also likes to bite. Luckily, they haven't made it through the gloves yet, so it doesn't hurt too much, but at first it was a little scary. Once they're in the bucket you lower it down to the person on the ground, they do their thing (measuring the beak, talons, weight, crop, tail, etc, etc, etc) and then they send the chick back up and you put it back in the nest, and lower yourself down (I like this part the best because it's fairly effortless and it feels like flying).
***I have to stop here because it's time for dinner. Part 2 will be coming soon!***
An average day usually starts with my alarm at 4:15 when I get up, stumble around with my headlamp to get dressed and get my things together for the morning. I always remember to check down the legs of my pants with my flashlight before I put them on but I have to say, there has been nothing lurking there so far. We leave the lodge by 4:45 and hike out to the boat port where we get into a boat and take a short ride upriver to the colpa (the clay lick) where the birds flock to every morning. (or, alternately, a marsh on the other side of the same island, where we listen and watch for birds arriving to the colpa and record whatever we see/hear) At the colpa we're recording the time and abundance of each species to use the colpa. On sunny days in particular it's an amazing display, with so many colors of birds being illuminated by the sun. My favorites are the blue and yellow macaws who are a sky blue color on their heads and backs and brilliant golden yellow under their wings. When the sun hits the bottoms of their wings it's just incredibly beautiful. Especially when there's 50 or more of them flying at the same time. Amazing. So, around 7:30 we radio back to the lodge and have the boat come back for us, then we eat breakfast and get ready for our other morning activity. Usually we're climing in the late morning, we're split into pairs, one person will climb a tree with rope and a harness and the other stays on the ground to take measurements of the chick that the climber lowers down in a bucket from the nest. I've climbed three nests so far (many more in the future, I'm sure) and it's been interesting. The climbing itself is incredibly physically demanding. By the end of the climb my arms hardly feel like they're attached to my body any more. I'm sure that with time I will gain strength, and so it will get easier. The view from the top of the trees makes it entirely worth it, however. Macaws like to choose the tallest trees of the forest to nest in and so once you're up there, there are not many other trees taller than you. Because you have to lower down the chick and then the other person has to take all kinds of measurements of it, you just sortof hang up in the tree for half an hour or so, waiting for them to return the chick, so you have time to just look around and enjoy the view (or, alternately, be tortured by bullet ants and sweat bees, depending on the tree). Yesterday there were monkeys moving through the branches in the tree next to me and checking out me, a strange site to them, I'm sure.
The actual removal of the chick from the nest is quite eventful as well... The mother usually pokes her head out of the nest as you're climbing up and starts to growl at you and sometimes yell... Once you get to the nest the first thing you have to do is get rid of the parents, which is done by taking a stick and poking it at her, or, if it's an artificial nest hanging from a branch, you can shake the whole nest and throw off her balance so she'll fly off. Some times it's easier than other times and sometimes she'll attack, flying at you all pissed off with her claws out... that's when I just sortof cover my face and yell back and hope she'll leave me alone. Once that's dealt with, you get to the nest and have to remove the very unhappy and uncooperative chick who also likes to bite. Luckily, they haven't made it through the gloves yet, so it doesn't hurt too much, but at first it was a little scary. Once they're in the bucket you lower it down to the person on the ground, they do their thing (measuring the beak, talons, weight, crop, tail, etc, etc, etc) and then they send the chick back up and you put it back in the nest, and lower yourself down (I like this part the best because it's fairly effortless and it feels like flying).
***I have to stop here because it's time for dinner. Part 2 will be coming soon!***
Thursday, February 7, 2008
not in Kansas anymore
I dont really know where to find the words for this one... The last day has been pretty crazy, mostly in a good way... a day to never forget.
I find myself in a different world today than I ever knew existed. My flight from Lima was hands down the most amazing flying experience of my life, taking off over the Atacama desert, flat and vast, just expansive dry brown nothingness, then a very short while later, the development of the foothills of the Andes, then a little later, the ANDES! Seriously, what a view! The plane seemed nearly ready to clip the tops off some of the peaks (which, luckily, it did not). There were parts completely covered with snow, just incredibly beautiful. There´s almost no civilization to be seen anywhere, no roads, no anything besides mountains and more mountains. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, is Cuzco, resting on a long, low valley between numerous peaks. I was thinking to myself how completely tenacious the people who originally inhabited this city must have been to take such a remote location and make a city out of it. It seems as though situations like this one would be a challange to pilots, but ours seemed like he had done it a thousand times, and we set down easy. I didn´t even get off the plane, but when they opened the door, I could feel the cool mountain air rush in. I´ll be spending a week or two in Cuzco in conjunction to my trip to Macchu Picchu in May. I think that cool air will be a shock to the system by then. So, less than half an hour later, we were back in the air, again, soaring over the beautiful mountains. Then, quite abruptly, the mountains end, and there´s nothing but a thick, grey mat of clouds. Eventually the captain comes on the loudspeaker asking the attendants to prepare for landing, and I know what´s beneath those clouds. We drop elevation, sink beneath the grey, and whammo! there´s the Amazon spreading out as far as the eye can see in every direction nothing but green! Tears flooded my eyes instantly, as this moment is something I have drempt of for as long as I can remember. I have often heard the Amazon referred to as the ¨lungs of the Earth¨and as I looked out on that landscape, I couldn´t help but feel I was looking my creator in the eye... The only interruptions to the green were twisting, twining rivers.... and then there´s Puerto Maldonado... This ¨city¨, if you can call it a city, is a very foreign land to my eyes. It´s more intense than I expected it to be for sure. (Just now a parade of women protesting for childrens rights are marching by this hole in the wall internet cafe). We landed at the single strip airport and the terminal itself is a single big room with open air grated walls and a thatched roof covered with a layer of corrugated tin (the building material of choice down here). The air is hot. Really steamy, and sweet, but not unbearable. I´m glad to have been in the tropics for over a month now, because I´m feeling decently acclimated to the temperature. I found my luggage and then found a group of German tourists who were going to the same place as me and got in on their private bus to the office of the tourist company who collaborates with the people running the study I´ll be working on. I sat to the side as they checked in all the tourists and delt with all their arrangements, and after that was all done, I was shown my room, which has two bunk beds, with mattresses only on the bottom half. The top half is used as a canopy to hang a mosquito net from. I was then invited to lunch with all the guides, all Peruvians, who were extremely friendly. I was SO grateful for my Spanish classes, without which I would have been completely lost in the conversation. As it was, I still only got about 60%, but was able to follow for the most part, and understood all the questions they asked me about myself, and was then able to answer. I have a feeling that this whole experience is going to be good practice as far as Spanish speaking goes. After lunch one of the girls was going into the town and asked if I wanted to come along. Since I needed to purchase some rubber boots I decided to go, and we walked down the little dirt road to the bigger dirt road and waited for what she referred to as the ¨bus¨. Along comes a dilapadated old mini van with it´s slider door torn off, and it slows down and we hop on, joining 8 or so people who are already on, all Peruvian. They all stare at me. We pay 60 cents (about 10 cents American) and ride for about 20 minutes, picking up others on the way, and when we get to the market place, the girl I was with tells me that I´m there, and I hop off alone. The market is THRONGING with people and activity. There are vendors of everything imaginable, and some things unimaginable, from rice, to chickens, to candy, to unidentifyable herbs, to all kinds of strange looking fish... you name it, it´s there. The smell is atrocious, dominated by the stench of unrefridgerated meat. I eventually find a few people selling rubber boots and I ask around for a good price and eventually settle on $6, although I´m sure it would be considterably less if I were a local and spoke better Spanish. $6 is not too bad, though, and I´m sure the woman I gave it to is happy to make some decent money. I took a look around town, not really daring to walk into the areas away from the center... I get the impression that people are (financially) really really poor here and it´s something I´ve never experienced before. Not to this level. Houses are barely standing, clothes are dirty and torn, some of the children are barefoot, faces look weathered and show signs of a life of struggle. At the same time, the unifying factors of joy and laughter are here as well. Parents playing with their children, people enjoying conversation and the good things in life... I just cant imagine this place being reality for an entire lifetime. I´m really grateful, however, to let it be my reality for a few days. It´s enlightening indeed to see how life goes in a place like this.
I eventually returned to the lodge and spent the night writing in my journal and reading (very slowly with my dictionary at my side) a book in Spanish, and then just laying under my mosquito net, listening to the night sounds of the jungle, and feeling incredibly lucky. Seriously lucky. I remind myself constantly.
The boat schedule is a bit confused here and I´m going to be in Puerto Maldonado until the 9th, then I´m going half way up river to a lodge called ¨Posadas Amazonas¨ for four days, and then on the 13th I´ll finally be on my way to Tambopata. I´m excited to get waaayy out there and be away from all the motorcycles and barking dogs that are in this city... to really get down to buisness...
I find myself in a different world today than I ever knew existed. My flight from Lima was hands down the most amazing flying experience of my life, taking off over the Atacama desert, flat and vast, just expansive dry brown nothingness, then a very short while later, the development of the foothills of the Andes, then a little later, the ANDES! Seriously, what a view! The plane seemed nearly ready to clip the tops off some of the peaks (which, luckily, it did not). There were parts completely covered with snow, just incredibly beautiful. There´s almost no civilization to be seen anywhere, no roads, no anything besides mountains and more mountains. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, is Cuzco, resting on a long, low valley between numerous peaks. I was thinking to myself how completely tenacious the people who originally inhabited this city must have been to take such a remote location and make a city out of it. It seems as though situations like this one would be a challange to pilots, but ours seemed like he had done it a thousand times, and we set down easy. I didn´t even get off the plane, but when they opened the door, I could feel the cool mountain air rush in. I´ll be spending a week or two in Cuzco in conjunction to my trip to Macchu Picchu in May. I think that cool air will be a shock to the system by then. So, less than half an hour later, we were back in the air, again, soaring over the beautiful mountains. Then, quite abruptly, the mountains end, and there´s nothing but a thick, grey mat of clouds. Eventually the captain comes on the loudspeaker asking the attendants to prepare for landing, and I know what´s beneath those clouds. We drop elevation, sink beneath the grey, and whammo! there´s the Amazon spreading out as far as the eye can see in every direction nothing but green! Tears flooded my eyes instantly, as this moment is something I have drempt of for as long as I can remember. I have often heard the Amazon referred to as the ¨lungs of the Earth¨and as I looked out on that landscape, I couldn´t help but feel I was looking my creator in the eye... The only interruptions to the green were twisting, twining rivers.... and then there´s Puerto Maldonado... This ¨city¨, if you can call it a city, is a very foreign land to my eyes. It´s more intense than I expected it to be for sure. (Just now a parade of women protesting for childrens rights are marching by this hole in the wall internet cafe). We landed at the single strip airport and the terminal itself is a single big room with open air grated walls and a thatched roof covered with a layer of corrugated tin (the building material of choice down here). The air is hot. Really steamy, and sweet, but not unbearable. I´m glad to have been in the tropics for over a month now, because I´m feeling decently acclimated to the temperature. I found my luggage and then found a group of German tourists who were going to the same place as me and got in on their private bus to the office of the tourist company who collaborates with the people running the study I´ll be working on. I sat to the side as they checked in all the tourists and delt with all their arrangements, and after that was all done, I was shown my room, which has two bunk beds, with mattresses only on the bottom half. The top half is used as a canopy to hang a mosquito net from. I was then invited to lunch with all the guides, all Peruvians, who were extremely friendly. I was SO grateful for my Spanish classes, without which I would have been completely lost in the conversation. As it was, I still only got about 60%, but was able to follow for the most part, and understood all the questions they asked me about myself, and was then able to answer. I have a feeling that this whole experience is going to be good practice as far as Spanish speaking goes. After lunch one of the girls was going into the town and asked if I wanted to come along. Since I needed to purchase some rubber boots I decided to go, and we walked down the little dirt road to the bigger dirt road and waited for what she referred to as the ¨bus¨. Along comes a dilapadated old mini van with it´s slider door torn off, and it slows down and we hop on, joining 8 or so people who are already on, all Peruvian. They all stare at me. We pay 60 cents (about 10 cents American) and ride for about 20 minutes, picking up others on the way, and when we get to the market place, the girl I was with tells me that I´m there, and I hop off alone. The market is THRONGING with people and activity. There are vendors of everything imaginable, and some things unimaginable, from rice, to chickens, to candy, to unidentifyable herbs, to all kinds of strange looking fish... you name it, it´s there. The smell is atrocious, dominated by the stench of unrefridgerated meat. I eventually find a few people selling rubber boots and I ask around for a good price and eventually settle on $6, although I´m sure it would be considterably less if I were a local and spoke better Spanish. $6 is not too bad, though, and I´m sure the woman I gave it to is happy to make some decent money. I took a look around town, not really daring to walk into the areas away from the center... I get the impression that people are (financially) really really poor here and it´s something I´ve never experienced before. Not to this level. Houses are barely standing, clothes are dirty and torn, some of the children are barefoot, faces look weathered and show signs of a life of struggle. At the same time, the unifying factors of joy and laughter are here as well. Parents playing with their children, people enjoying conversation and the good things in life... I just cant imagine this place being reality for an entire lifetime. I´m really grateful, however, to let it be my reality for a few days. It´s enlightening indeed to see how life goes in a place like this.
I eventually returned to the lodge and spent the night writing in my journal and reading (very slowly with my dictionary at my side) a book in Spanish, and then just laying under my mosquito net, listening to the night sounds of the jungle, and feeling incredibly lucky. Seriously lucky. I remind myself constantly.
The boat schedule is a bit confused here and I´m going to be in Puerto Maldonado until the 9th, then I´m going half way up river to a lodge called ¨Posadas Amazonas¨ for four days, and then on the 13th I´ll finally be on my way to Tambopata. I´m excited to get waaayy out there and be away from all the motorcycles and barking dogs that are in this city... to really get down to buisness...
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Lima
So, here I am in my first days in Peru, which I´m sure will not at all resemble what most of my days here will be like, and I´m getting more excited by the minute. My flights went smoothly and I was blessed by the airplane neighbor gods with interesting people who wanted to converse and therefore who made the trips feel considerably shorter. On my flight to Miami I sat next to Hector, a {gorgeous} Cuban yoga instructor, who was full of wisdom and humor. We became friends in short time and ended up pouring our hearts out to one another about this and that. He gave me some great advice and made me feel positive and happy about everything in life, which I already pretty much was anyway, but anyhow, thanks Hector, wherever you are.
Yesterday I spent the day exploring the city a bit, or at least the areas that were dubbed ¨safe¨to me by the reception guy at my hostel. I went to a beautiful Franciscan church which, in its basement, contains the bodily remains of over 70,000 people. The bones are all arranged by type and then placed in geometric designs. Weeeird.... I had never seen anything like it before and it was really pretty spooky... thousands of skulls laid out in concentric circles, huge piles of leg bones, etc, etc... the church itself was absolutely gorgeous. I didn´t wander far into the poorer areas of town, as I had my camera and a bit of money on me, and didn´t feel like parting with either of them. The city is, for the most part, extremely flat, except a few hills at the end of town, which rise up suddenly. On the hills there are little communities of poor folks, with brightly painted corrugated tin houses that look as though they could blow over in a second. I didn´t dare wander into these neighborhoods, but I have to say I was intreagued and would have liked to have a more personal glimpse into the way that more than half of this country lives. As it is, I´m staying in the nicest part of town, a suburb called Miraflores, where the majority of tourists live, and where the more well-to-do Limeños live. Things are still shockingly cheap, especially with my backpacker mentality of going to supermarkets instead of restaurants (although I scoped out a vegetarian restaurant that I´m going to go back to tonight as a celebration for my last night outside the jungle) and to make myself an avocado tomato sandwich it runs me about 40 cents. The cabs are also really cheap, about $2 for a half hour trip into the city center (and I´m sure that´s the gringo price).
Today I dropped off my suitcase of Costa Rican beach gear at the appartment of the Guacamayo (Macaw) project leader, Carolina, who spends half her year here in Lima, and the other half in the jungle. She was super sweet and we sat and talked for half an hour or so mostly about what to expect from my next three months. She gave a very very good impression and our conversation left me more excited than ever. I now know that there will be about 5 other assistants working the same time as myself, along with about 5 local guides, and another few women who do the cooking. It sounds as though there´s a good comradery among the project crew (she said they often organize soccer games on the ¨beach¨beside the river and that everyone has an attitude of making the best of the situation). I will appreciate positive attitudes, as I´m sure it will not all be peachy...
Anyhow, I´ll stop there, and write more about TRC once I´m living there and getting a better feeling for things for myself. For now, I´m going to go luxuriate with my vegetarian meal and then I´m going to watch some Spanish TV and get to bed early for my big day tomorrow.
Yesterday I spent the day exploring the city a bit, or at least the areas that were dubbed ¨safe¨to me by the reception guy at my hostel. I went to a beautiful Franciscan church which, in its basement, contains the bodily remains of over 70,000 people. The bones are all arranged by type and then placed in geometric designs. Weeeird.... I had never seen anything like it before and it was really pretty spooky... thousands of skulls laid out in concentric circles, huge piles of leg bones, etc, etc... the church itself was absolutely gorgeous. I didn´t wander far into the poorer areas of town, as I had my camera and a bit of money on me, and didn´t feel like parting with either of them. The city is, for the most part, extremely flat, except a few hills at the end of town, which rise up suddenly. On the hills there are little communities of poor folks, with brightly painted corrugated tin houses that look as though they could blow over in a second. I didn´t dare wander into these neighborhoods, but I have to say I was intreagued and would have liked to have a more personal glimpse into the way that more than half of this country lives. As it is, I´m staying in the nicest part of town, a suburb called Miraflores, where the majority of tourists live, and where the more well-to-do Limeños live. Things are still shockingly cheap, especially with my backpacker mentality of going to supermarkets instead of restaurants (although I scoped out a vegetarian restaurant that I´m going to go back to tonight as a celebration for my last night outside the jungle) and to make myself an avocado tomato sandwich it runs me about 40 cents. The cabs are also really cheap, about $2 for a half hour trip into the city center (and I´m sure that´s the gringo price).
Today I dropped off my suitcase of Costa Rican beach gear at the appartment of the Guacamayo (Macaw) project leader, Carolina, who spends half her year here in Lima, and the other half in the jungle. She was super sweet and we sat and talked for half an hour or so mostly about what to expect from my next three months. She gave a very very good impression and our conversation left me more excited than ever. I now know that there will be about 5 other assistants working the same time as myself, along with about 5 local guides, and another few women who do the cooking. It sounds as though there´s a good comradery among the project crew (she said they often organize soccer games on the ¨beach¨beside the river and that everyone has an attitude of making the best of the situation). I will appreciate positive attitudes, as I´m sure it will not all be peachy...
Anyhow, I´ll stop there, and write more about TRC once I´m living there and getting a better feeling for things for myself. For now, I´m going to go luxuriate with my vegetarian meal and then I´m going to watch some Spanish TV and get to bed early for my big day tomorrow.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
decline incline
Tomorrow I leave Samara and the thought of it brings tears to my eyes. I´m already dreaming of my next visit. There is not an ounce of me that wants to leave this place.
Onward, I suppose. I cant imagine things could get much better than they are right now, but there´s no choice in the matter, so I go....
A week from today will be my first day on the job in Tambopata.
The days until then are going to be interesting, I´m sure, with lots of transport involved (a flight from San Jose to Miami, then Miami to Lima, then two days in Lima, and another flight from Lima to Puerto Maldonado, where I´ll spend one day, then my 7 hour boat ride out to the research station, then I´m home free...) Moments of intense transport are always the most stressful ones, but I´m sure I´ll make it.
I´ll write more once I´m in Lima. For now, I need to go soak up the last moments of my time here.
Love to you all.
Onward, I suppose. I cant imagine things could get much better than they are right now, but there´s no choice in the matter, so I go....
A week from today will be my first day on the job in Tambopata.
The days until then are going to be interesting, I´m sure, with lots of transport involved (a flight from San Jose to Miami, then Miami to Lima, then two days in Lima, and another flight from Lima to Puerto Maldonado, where I´ll spend one day, then my 7 hour boat ride out to the research station, then I´m home free...) Moments of intense transport are always the most stressful ones, but I´m sure I´ll make it.
I´ll write more once I´m in Lima. For now, I need to go soak up the last moments of my time here.
Love to you all.
Monday, January 21, 2008
a super good night
This Saturday night Alice bangs on my door asking me if I want to go to a fiesta at Hilarios families house. I asked where it was and they motioned that it was just up the road, so I said yeah, sure, and we all packed into two cars and went on our way. Just up the road ended up being waaaaayyy out in the hills of Guanacaste (the region of Costa Rica I'm staying in) down some really long, somewhat trecherous roads. Eventually we come to a hilltop and there's a single light on in the distance on a neighboring hill and Hilario tells me that that's where we're going. We arrived eventually to the house of Hilarios uncle and aunt who are dairy cow farmers. His uncle cares for the cows and his aunt makes cheese with the milk to sell in the local market. During the final length of the drive we're passing groups of people making their way by foot down the dark, dark road, on their way to the fiesta. Hilario would shout out a greeting or joke or whatever to each group, as he knew everyone and was related to most of the people we were passing. He later explained to me that his family has been living on this particular hill in this particular village for many many generations. We eventually arrived at a big old barn that was all lit up, where all the people were conviening. Inside the barn there were little tables with chairs lining the outside of the room and the middle was left empty for dancing. There was a guy in one of the corners playing salsa and merengue music (very loudly). The day before this, a guy who had been a student at the same school I'm now attending arrived for a visit to Samara and was staying with Alice and Hilario (they introduced him as their 'hijo', their son) and so I was one of two gringos (white people) at the party. There were probably 100 people crowded into the barn, and spilling out the back doors into a big field. We sat and socialized and drank beer and eventually some of the women made a huge feast for everyone (none of which I was able to try for the fact that pork was a main ingredient in everything) and it was just a really really good time. Brandon (the other gringo) and I were wondering when the dancing would start and continued to wonder this basically all night, as it never did start. However, Brandon is big on dancing and insisted that we go out to the field behind the barn and he would show me the basic steps for a few salsa dances, and he also showed me one country western dance that applied well to salsa music (he's from Texas and is a classic southern gentleman, very christian, very sweet, but at the same time, very foreign to me). He somehow convinced me to go back to the barn with him and dance the country western dance in the middle of the barn, with everyone watching! Anyhow, somehow I go for it, and at the end everyone applauded! It felt really really good to just seize the moment and do something completely out of my nature. Beyond good, really. A little later we went back to the field and befriended a big pack of kids who were playing there. They were very intreagued by us and thought we were loads of fun and they ended up following us everywhere, like the pied piper. We all danced around in a circle and seriously just had a blast.
Eventually Hilario told us it was time to go so we took the long ride back to Samara and stopped at a bar in town that was having a salsa night, this time with lots of dancing people. Brandon insisted that I try out the new moves he had taught me and so again I just went for it and had a ball doing so.
At the end of the night I fell asleep just feeling so lucky to get to see places like this and meet great people and do things like go to parties way out in the countryside of Costa Rica... To get glimpses of life in places so forign to my own New England world. It's just wonderful.
The night was just really inspiring and elating and I thought I should share it with you all. :-)
Eventually Hilario told us it was time to go so we took the long ride back to Samara and stopped at a bar in town that was having a salsa night, this time with lots of dancing people. Brandon insisted that I try out the new moves he had taught me and so again I just went for it and had a ball doing so.
At the end of the night I fell asleep just feeling so lucky to get to see places like this and meet great people and do things like go to parties way out in the countryside of Costa Rica... To get glimpses of life in places so forign to my own New England world. It's just wonderful.
The night was just really inspiring and elating and I thought I should share it with you all. :-)
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