The smiling face of the pilot greeted me as I climbed into the small plane in Shell Ecuador. We had flown together several times into the Amazon Rainforest, on adventures or taking students into the jungle.
I was setting out on an arduous adventure with my friend Juan Carlos Garcia who works for the World Wildlife Fund of Ecuador.
For a couple of years, Garcia and I explored and talked about the idea of floating down a section of the Capahuari River deep in the Amazon Rainforest of Ecuador. On several occasions, we had drawn plans and maps on napkins, and now it was coming true.
According to stories and conversations Garcia had with the Achuar people who lived in this section of the Amazon, only one person from Ecuador and his son had ever attempted to float this section of the river. And that was ten years ago.
The opportunity to potentially be the first person from the United States to float this section of the Capahuari River was just too tempting to pass up. I would gain an insight as to why this section of the river is rarely floated on our first day of paddling.
After flying for about an hour, the small plane glided past large trees and landed on a dirt brown airstrip carved out of the green jungle in the Achuar village of Pukuan. Outsiders, especially those carrying with them an inflatable kayak, rarely visit the village of Pukuan.
Many smiling and curious faces along the edge of the runway greeted us as we unpacked our provisions from the plane.
The intense heat of the tropical sun pounded us from above. One of the reasons so much stuff grows in the jungle is the constant energy from the sun, 365 days a year, 12 hours a day, always.
“Winyahi,” or hello, I said as the sindico or village chief as he approached.
“Winitia,” or welcome, he replied with a smile of a surprise that I would know some of his language.
The sindico’s name was Antonio Ruben Santi, who also served as the communities’ teacher.
Garica explained during our introductions that I have been coming to the Achuar Nation territory for six years and that I was a friend of their people.
After we carried our gear to a grass-roofed hut down by the river, we returned to the main house of the village to state our intentions and introductions.
This is always started with being presented a bowl of chicha, the fermented drink of all the Achuar communities in the jungle.
It is made from the starchy roots of Yuca. They are peeled, cooked and mashed into a mush inside a large pot by the woman of the village. To stimulate the fermentation process, the mashed Yuca is chewed by the woman making the sacred drink and then spit back into the large pot. The bacteria in the saliva help kick-start the fermentation process. The longer it sits in the pot, the higher the alcohol content is in the chichi.
There is no getting around this ritual, especially when I am there to make new friends and gain their support for this adventure.
In addition to being given my private bowl of chicha, the woman took turns going around with a communal bowl from their prized batch. It is something they take great pride in making and refusing to drink is not an option.
Soon a woman is stood in front of me and lifted her bowl to my lips while she looked away. It is considered rude for a stranger to look into the eyes of an Achuar woman.
I took a sip.
Apparently, a sip was not good enough, as she continued to stand in front of me and held the bowl to my mouth and tipped it higher.
I took a large gulp.
Satisfied, she moved next to Garcia who received the same treatment.
At the meeting, I was introduced to our Achuar guides who would accompany us down the river: Edward Santi and Benancio Cuji.
We were in luck because Santi accompanied the journey ten years ago. Hopefully, he would be able to offer some insight. After working for two months, they had just finished making by hand a dugout canoe that would carry some of our gear and the guides.
“You are welcome here,” stated the sindico, Santi.
Garcia informed me, some of the women in the village said I looked like a man they saw once in the movies.
I asked, “What kind of guy was he?”
Garcia replied, “Apparently the bad guy, but don’t worry, they like you, they think you are funny.”
“Good to know,” I answered as a parrot landed on my shoulder.
We planned to leave early the next morning to begin the first leg of paddling down the Capahuari River.
Darkness came fast in the jungle and but the darkness was pushed back by the light of the full moon: a magical way to start a special journey.
This is a wonderful adventure. Congratulations!
Posted by: Web | September 10, 2018 at 02:02 PM