From me to you

The next morning, after a lovely breakfast of fresh fruit and boiled fish (hey, you can’t be picky about meals when you’re in the jungle), we hopped back in the canoes to head for the next campsite.  That morning had a special treat:  swimming in the Amazon.  Now, I know what your initial reaction is when hearing such a statement, mainly because the same thoughts flitted through my mind during the planning phase of the trip.  “Are they crazy?!  Don’t they know what lives in that water?!  Fish famous for the sharpness of their teeth and size of their appetites, parasites whose one goal in life is to find a human cavity to make their home in, and probably a third of the world’s most vicious creatures!  And they want me to swim in that?!  Not a chance!”  Now, that may not be verbatim, but I bet it’s pretty close to what you were thinking.  However, you gradually adjust to the idea.  The heat during the days before the jungle induces hallucinations replete with situations in which you have submerged your body underwater, and cracks start to slowly appear in your resolve.  Then comes that first day in the canoe, where you spend your time relaxing, soaking in the peace and tranquility, and convincing yourself – from the safety of the canoe, mind you – that the jungle is not such a dangerous place after all.  Throughout that first day, you dip your hands into the river, at first cautiously while keeping a sharp eye out for snakes and then more and more carelessly as the day goes on.  And then comes that first night, where you find that falling asleep is a lot harder when you’re breathing air that is so hot and moist that you could swear some jungle demon was standing over you and blowing his stale breath right into your face.  And so, by the time day two arrives with the opportunity to take a swim with all the critters the Amazon has to offer, you tell your more responsible half that you’ll be fine as long as you don’t pee in the water, and promptly dive in.  Our guides, as a form of reassurance, let us know that the side of the river we were on was perfectly safe since the piranhas normally stick to the other riverbank.  Good enough for me!  I would also like to point out that Cass and I were the first ones in the water.  Now, I can’t prove this, but I’ve since decided that the boys were waiting to see if anything big appeared to swallow us whole before jumping in themselves. 

Later that night, we got back into the canoes for a jungle tour that ensured I would not be going back into the water again.  It’s pretty much the same routine as paddling around in the day, except that it is pitch black and the only light is the one that you hold in your hand (or on your head, in the case of those people with headlamps).  That leaves a lot of jungle shrouded in darkness, and while I was definitely excited to see all the animals that come out at night, I was not quite brave enough to do so on my own.  Luckily, I was sharing a canoe with Frank and he graciously agreed to protect my back from all things jungle (although it could be that he was looking to use me as a shield for the bugs that were attracted to our lights).  Now, let me tell you how a night tour of the jungle goes.  As you drift down the river, you slowly sweep the riverbank, trees, and water with your flashlight, hoping to catch the reflection from the eyes of whatever animal is currently watching you.  Yeah, it’s a little creepy, but really exciting when you finally see a red glint coming from the riverbank.   Once you spotted a pair of red eyes shining back at you, the fix your light on it while the guide tries to maneuver the canoe closer, which is easier said than done because most animals aren’t overly fond of the sight of three humans interrupting their nightly stroll.  Consequently, they generally don’t stay in one spot until we can get a good look at them, and in the case of the caiman hunt, we end up chasing them around the river for awhile.  To catch this caiman, we chased him around until he headed for Jake and Vish’s canoe, at which point their guide snatched him out of the water.  Turns out the little guy was missing a foot, which was fortunate for us or I doubt we would have caught him, and I never would have had the chance to say that I petted a caiman in the Amazon.  What, don’t believe me?  I’ve got photographic proof, my friend!  I believe at that moment I was commenting on what a great purse our new friend would make. 

But caimans weren’t the only creatures enjoying the night.  There were also a few birds and snakes, but they wisely stayed out of reach.  When we found this snake, I couldn’t help but think of all the tree branches we had been under during the caiman hunt.  I mean, was it really necessary to run the risk of having a snake drop on us?  I guess it was, since it all worked out and I got to pet a caiman, but it still makes me shudder to think about it.  Not that I mind snakes, it’s just that I prefer them to appear in front of me only after properly announcing their arrival.  In case you were wondering, none of the snakes chose to do so.  

Next up, close encounters…