trip to the tiputini biodiversity station, amazon rainforest, 3/11-6/11

(notes scribbled down during an 11 hour regreso)

a day’s worth of travel: by car, by plane, by canoe, by ranchero, by boat and by bus.
spanish, spanglish, kichwa and wuar dance through our ears as white river dolphins wriggle by.
“hemos llegado” and we put on boots and pop malaria pills. gotta charge our cameras during the five hours the generator runs...
(my camera doesn’t run on candlelight).

our guide, josé, is perfect. pacha mama has raised him since childhood and she is his first love. he shares her gifts with us: snacks of lemon-flavored ants, bracelets from palm fibers, natural mosquito repellents and toadstools with which to write letters, fruit-dye tattoos and the proper way to attract strapping young kichwa men with nets of grass seeds.
rio tiputini is our sitio of choice for showers (but watch out for the fish that can lay their eggs inside of you if you pee!), and we float down the river lazily as the rain caresses our faces.

walks by moonlight call out those more “dangerous” creatures and snakes, scorpions, tarantulas and crickets the size of my hand come out to say hello. monkeys choose to relieve themselves on trees above our heads and the florescent fungi, which light our pathway with no need for a linterna, laugh along with our guide.

as the sunset nos da un beso cada noche over the laguna, in the same way, the amazonian sunrise greets us from the bird tower and reveals the private lives of toucans, parrots, macaws, spider monkeys and even prehistoric birds who chose to make their home only here.
“los riezgos” of this area don’t see to cross anyone’s minds. although danger shakes his fist during a few of our adventures, he seems to always be ignored, in search of the opportunity to more fully savor every moment.

but quito calls us back, and although i’d prefer to ignore her voice, i return my boots, now muddy, and doy besos to the cooks, guides, and scientists i’ve somehow grown fond of in just three days.

so we drive through the selvain a chiva, feet dangling in the dappling sun
(same vehicle as a week ago halloween, but transformed into algo mas practical and more in touch with reality)
and i’d rather not leave—cuz there’s comfort in the isolation
and liberation from tourism
and somehow i feel that being this far from the world makes it all the more real.

p.s. new photos can be viewed here. many apologies for the low quality of almost all the amazon photos, it was always hard to decide whether or not to use flash and i have shaky hands.