Pictures and Notes

Typical Day at the Reserve

• 6:15am - Alarm goes off
• 6:30 - 7:00am - Breakfast in the dining hall. (Actual time of breakfast: 6:45ish) Usually consists of hot bread rolls (and the molasses table syrup, complete with at least a dozen bees greedily hovering), occasionally will be pancakes or something mushy. Always fresh juice. (Except for the when the juice looks suspiciously like jello.)
• 7:30 - 11:30am - Depart for the day’s task, which might be any of the following: A walk with one of the forest guides, or working in the organic garden (which includes turning over the compost and machete work, as well as tending the chicken coop), or walking fifteen minutes down the road to the other part of the station to do more machete work, or if you are very unlucky, kitchen duty.
• 12:00 - 12:30pm - Lunch in the dining hall. We always have soup first (if it’s a good day it’s the orange (carrot?) blended kind with popcorn on the side, then a main dish that’s usually white rice, a soupy topping of beans, and a portion of either shredded iceberg lettuce or cabbage (which sometimes tastes like soap).
• 12:30 - 1:15 - Rest before afternoon work
• 1:15 - 3:00 - Continuation of that morning’s work. Keep fingers crossed the sun has decided to hide beyond clouds, or maybe even go away entirely and let rain.
• 3:00 - 6:00 - Free time before dinner. Usually one of the following: walk down to the river to swim, take a freezing cold shower, sleep or read in the hammocks.
• 6:00 - 7:00 - Dinner, the wild card. Main ingredient is usually either pasta or white rice and potatoes and similar to lunch. But there are surprise dishes! Such as leftover lasagna (from previous night’s dinner) topped with a fried egg and french fries on the side!
• 7:00 - The end time for this part of the day depends on how tired you are. Typical activities in the evening are playing card games, walking a few minutes down to the bar for a Pilsner and possibly some dancing, hanging out in the hammocks (works any time of day, really), going on a night walk, using one of the three computers available at the reserve to check email, reading, or if you have kitchen duty the next day at 5:30am, then you’re probably asleep already.

Night Walks Further in the Amazon

There is a herpetologist here who goes out on night walks several times a week looking for snakes and frogs with a head lamp and a snake-catching stick. I had accompanied his group once and enjoyed it so much that when I heard they were planning a backpacking trip further into the Amazon Rainforest, I jumped at the chance to join.

The only thing I knew is that we’d be traveling for a long time (7 hours, including a bus, a canoe, and hiking) and not to pack anything beyond the essentials: my head lamp, rain boots, change of clothes, basic toiletries, camera, and spare batteries.

The journey began right after breakfast at the biological reserve where we caught a bus headed for Santa Rosa. After three hours, the six of us were let off in a very small town and had to then get into a canoe, which was so shallow that every time we turned I held my breath because I thought for sure that water was about to spill in. After the 40-minute ride down the river, we had a simple lunch on the shore of bread, Ecuadorian cheese, and jam. To wash it down we had Ecuadorian Pineapple-flavored soda (which I only drank to be polite since it was too sweet), and then prepared to embark on a three-hour hike. The preparation included dividing all of the food we’d be eating for the next four days so we each carried a bit, which consisted of lots of bags of produce like tomatoes, carrots, onions, potatoes, the requisite tub of butter, a bottle of oil, a frying pan, etc. Knowing I could barely carry my backpack as it was I wasn’t exactly grabbing things to add, which is probably why I got stuck at the last minute with the dreaded 2-liter bottle of Ecuadorian Pineapple-flavored soda.

The first half hour of the hike was grueling because of the sharp incline and the fact that the soda was awkward to carry. I secretly had an urge to hurl it into the forest but I didn’t think Mother Nature would appreciate it. Luckily, just when I was about to insist we stop for a rest, there was a house at the top of the hill and we ended up giving the soda to the family since they offered us juice and fresh cacao from their land.

After that, the hike felt like a breeze (except when I stepped into a hole and my right leg was stuck so far down that I couldn’t get out without someone pulling me out).

Walking up to the cabin felt like approaching the Taj Mahal: it was the biggest cabin I’ve seen out here, with two large floors and room enough to sleep at least eight.

We spent three nights at the cabin and headed out on as many night walks. The first two night walks were down the trails in the forest and the last one was through the river. The hikes would usually begin after dinner (and maybe a quick game of cards first) and last for about two or three hours. The purpose of the walk is to find nocturnal creatures that you wouldn’t normally see during the day, so the walk is conducted at a much slower pace, with each person scanning the leaves, branches and trails for any signs of movement or reflecting eyes.

The biologists have pretty serious camera equipment since spotting a rare or even new species can sometimes mean that documenting the creature in its natural environment is very important. On average, I would say we saw countless insects like grasshoppers, spiders, katydids, and moths that would seemingly be sitting there waiting for us, as well as numerous little brown frogs. A few times each night the biologists would come across a rare or completely new species of frog and sometimes even a snake. In these cases, the animal was collected and then taken back to the cabin for further investigation. (They’re always returned to the same spot later.)

The last night of our stay was marked with a hike through the river. I was kind of hoping we wouldn’t really have to walk through the river in the dark of night, but I surprised myself by enjoying it. It had been raining most of the day, so the water was refreshingly cool and something about wading through the river at night, surrounded by a chorus of forest sounds from frogs, birds and dripping water felt surreal and serene.

After about two hours wading through the river, one of the researchers spotted two red beady eyes on the other side of the river. It was a caiman, which is basically an alligator. A few thoughts occured to me, such as how big it might be, or if it was hungry, but mainly I wondered what had I been doing walking through a caiman-infested river all night? Where I grew up, alligators or crocodiles in the water meant you didn’t go anywhere near the water, or even consider walking along the shore. I made my way back to shore as the researcher waded over to the caiman in an attempt to catch it. I guess caimans swim pretty fast because the next thing we knew, it was gone and there were two red beady eyes down the river. Whew.

Since it was getting closer to midnight, all of us except one headed back. Once back at the cabin, we made some popcorn and played a few rounds of cards. Then we heard a voice coming from the forest - it was Ross, the last biologist who wanted to stay at the river to find a snake. He sounded like he was having a conversation with someone, but that would have been very unlikely given we were in the middle of nowhere and hadn’t seen anyone in the area in days. Then we concluded he might actually be singing or talking to himself. We continued a few more rounds of cards, and then saw the light from a head lamp approaching the cabin. Ross came in, carrying a pillowcase and a huge grin on his face. Turns out he told himself he would stop searching for a snake at midnight, and then just a few minutes before midnight, he spotted a viper asleep in a tree. Given that vipers are venomous and have long fangs, he was lucky that he was able to get it safely into the pillowcase without being bitten. I was relieved that the viper would be sleeping downstairs that night, and even more relieved when it was returned to the river the next morning!

Filet Mignon and a Sloth

One of the favorite restaurants around here is a place that sells $6 filet mignon steaks and has a sloth as a pet. Yes, the restaurant has a pet. I don’t know why this isn’t more common in the States since it’s a nice diversion when you are waiting to be served your food. The sloth is a very cute, slower-than-slow-moving creature that seemed to resemble a cross between a monkey and a turtle. Like a furry turtle with a monkey face. It likes people quite a bit and appears to have his bangs trimmed in the front, which coincidentally matched the waiter’s haircut.

But, onto the food. The filet mignon was huge and served with potatoes cut in half, kind of like you would get in the States. Generally speaking, the food here seems to have a slightly different flavor to it than you would expect. Like the berry-flavored milkshake one of the volunteers ordered and immediately declared it tuna-flavored.

The Bird Tower

The bird tower can be described as both amazing and terrifying.

It’s 30 meters tall (about 100 feet) and resembles a radio tower: just four metal posts in the ground connected together with some zig-zagging metal, climbing high into the sky and finally stopping above the treetops of the rainforest.

I won’t lie: I was climbing at a sloth-like speed and clutching the bird tower as though my life depended on it. I am pretty sure my life did depend on it, actually.

Two people are required to climb up the bird tower, and each person has to wear a harness with caribiners so they can latch onto the ropes every five steps or so. I spent a lot of concentration on this part, partially so I would forget the grander picture of what I was doing.

I went with another volunteer who also wanted to do the climb before sunrise, so we met at 5am, walked 15 minutes through the forest in the dark with our head lamps on, and started to ascend while it was still dark. It felt very early at the time, but in hindsight I am glad to have done the climb in the dark because then I couldn’t really see everything shrinking beneath me.

The top part of the climb was the worst because the tower swayed the most up there. It was a relief to finally reach the platform at the top, but it was much smaller than I expected, with only room for two people to sit. I ended up securing my harness to the tower even while sitting just in case the whole thing decided to topple over and toss me into the treetops. (Yes, I debated whether being attached to the tower would actually help or hurt more. At least I’ll never know for sure.)

We were rewarded with a 360 degree view of the rainforest at sunrise: green treetops, a bit of the Napo River and mountains in the background, a few birds. I might return another day to see the sunset, if I can forget the scary bits!

A Word About Vanity

In case you thought otherwise, vanity has no place in the jungle. For example:

1. I have been compelled to wear “practical” clothes for the jungle, which include fashionable ensembles like quick-drying elastic-waist hiking pants that cinch at the bottom to keep out the bugs (ha!) and a (quick-drying!) shirt that looks like it belongs in an Indiana Jones movie. Oh, and the Teva sandals add a classy touch.
2. There are only one or two mirrors in the whole reserve, and I am usually so tired or preoccupied that I don’t bother looking. Okay, maybe once in the morning.
3. I have over 300 bug bites on my legs and arms alone. Not exaggerating. I thought I was off to a good start the first week by only having a few, and then they just multiplied exponentially so that now I don’t plan to wear a skirt or shorts until, oh, maybe 2010.
4. My hair has gone completely haywire out here in the rainforest. All of the humidity and constant raining have made it look like Crazy Professor Hair.
5. Dirt under the nails. Grr. I haven’t had so much dirt under my nails since I was five!
6. Odor. Apply all of the deodorant you want, but nothing can mask the scent of a just-on-the-verge-of-molding backpack.
7. There’s no such thing as a hot shower out here. The water is icy cold, which feels okay if I’ve just gotten back from work, but otherwise I think it’s reduced my shower time by 90%.

The upside of this is that I get to spend more time actually doing stuff!

La Cocina (The Kitchen) (Or, What I've Been Eating)

A lot of people have been asking what I’ve been eating while in the Amazon Rainforest.

Well, that depends on where I am. If I am at the station, and it’s a regular day, then I am eating with the other volunteers and there’s a very good chance that the meal includes a giant serving of rice, pasta, or potatoes. Additional frequent guests in the ingredient department are bananas and beans. Occasionally there is tuna from a can mixed in, and then more rare is fresh chicken from the chicken coop at the station.

My favorite dish at the station so far has to be the blended orange soup because it comes served with popcorn, which you put right on top just as though they were saltine crackers. The only problem is that after a long morning of sweating outside, a bowl of hot soup is not something immediately rejoiced. However, there is always fresh juice for breakfast and lunch, and that is something to look forward to!

Another favorite is the “pizza,” which is on some kind of tortilla with cheese, tomatoes, chilis, and chicken. It actually (kinda, sorta) resembles pizza back home. Another version of the pizza is served for breakfast and consists of bread with jelly, and cheese and fruit on top. That’s not bad, either.

Least favorite has to be the double-fried plantain pancakes for breakfast. I happened to have kitchen duty that day and got to see how they were prepared. I decided to have cereal for breakfast (using the powdered milk, of course). The double-fried plaintain pancakes have to be the calorie equivalent of a Big Mac from McDonald’s. In case you want to make it at home, just open a bag of fried plaintains, then deep fry them one more time for good measure. After that, scramble some eggs and mix with the re-fried fried plaintains, and form pancake-like patties. Lastly, deep fry each pancake for good luck.

If I am in Tena (the nearest town, which is a one hour bus ride away), then I very likely have had an ice cream on a stick, in the form of a Almendras (almond) flavored Magnum bar. This is usually my first stop the second I exit the bus, or the last thing before I get on the bus because I know it’s going to be a long, hot, and exhaust-fume-filled ride and chocolate and ice cream will do wonders to distract me.

Machetes are Everywhere

Machetes are as common as mobile phones here in the Amazon Rainforest. They’re used for hacking away at the rampant vegetation growing on the trails and even used to clear weeds in gardens. I’ve seen them for sale in the front of most of the stores in Tena.

Last week, while walking along a river path, I encountered a Kichwa woman holding a baby in one arm and carrying a machete with the other, and she was as calm and natural as though strolling through a park.

The blades can get so sharp sometimes it feels like you’re cutting through air when you’ve actually just cut away a good deal of brush. For the most part the volunteers don’t handle machetes, only when doing a task that requires “weeding”.

Since I don’t fully understand the logic of weeding* with a machete (ie, doesn’t it grow back faster that way?), I sometimes try to just pull out the weeds by hand. Yesterday I encountered a particularly stubborn weed, grabbed it with one hand then then hacked at it with the machete using my other hand… Except, I actually hit my hand! A surge of panic ran through me as I imagined my hand falling cartoon-like to the ground. Luckily my work gloves were very strong, because I only ended up with a bruise. (And a lesson on being careless with a machete!)

* I would probably understand more of the machete-weeding logic if my Spanish were better. I am convinced I’m missing out on a crucial bit of wisdom.

Welcome to the Jungle

When I started volunteering at the biological reserve in the Amazon Rainforest, I didn’t understand how going on a walk through the forest was considered a “task”, or why it had to be done every day. Now I understand that the forest walks are an important part of the daily tasks for both the forest guides and the volunteers. With such an expansive area of the forest to protect, the reserve needs to be patrolled for trespassers who may try to cut down trees to steal the wood, or hunters hoping to capture endangered wildlife to later sell illegally on the black market.

Unfortunately, most of the wood that is stolen comes from the largest and most ancient trees in the primary forest, which is difficult to restore because the trees are hundreds of years old. The trees appear to be just as tall and wide as some of the ancient Redwoods I’ve seen in California. Here in the Amazon, I saw one tree that had two large sections cut directly out of its trunk and was still standing. I was told this would be used for large flat bowls for artisinal crafts or feasts and was desirable because the way the trunk was shaped would require little construction. It’s also a traditional practice for people to come into the forest, cut down one of the old giant trees and carve it right there into a canoe and then carry it down to the river. (The actual carving of course takes a long time, but then several people from the village will come help carry it down to the river.)

On a forest walk with one of the guides, we found evidence of an animal hunter in the form of a basic watchtower, which was constructed with three branches placed horizontally linking two trees together. The forest guide used his machete to cut the vines that fastened the branches to the tree trunks.

The walks are really more like hikes given that they are fairly long, lasting anywhere from three to seven hours, they cover terrain that rises and falls in elevation at the rate of every five minutes, and the guide is always much faster than any of the volunteers, so I constantly feel like I am running behind. It’s a relief when I get to a flat portion of the walk, but it’s only a matter of time before I am climbing all the way back up a hill or descending through steep, slippery mud to the river. We have to be careful of what we grab onto for support because even though some of the branches look sturdy, the trees they are attached to are actually dead and come right out of the ground when you grab them. The same happens for vines, which may not be secured to a tree tightly enough and then you end up sliding in the mud.

The forest walks include crossing the numerous streams that stem from the Rio Napo, a tributary of the Amazon River. Because of succession (where a new tree will grow alongside an older one and eventually win its resources of light and water, or sometimes actually strangle it), there are lots of fallen trees that work nicely as bridges. A few of the volunteers have fallen when crossing, but it’s more of a nuisance than a trauma since the water is usually shallow and the fall not too steep. Nonetheless, about a third of the volunteers end up with ruined cameras, and if they are not ruined from falling in the river, then the intense humidity seems to do the trick eventually.

With the frequent rain, the mud boots (“wellies”) have been invaluable and we wear them almost everywhere, even around the station on a rainy day. They’re useful when hiking because sometimes you take a step and your foot sinks down up to your calves, and other times you have to cross a river by walking through the water because there’s no fallen tree to use as a bridge. (But the cold water always feels good after walking so much!) We’ve also been encouraged to step straight into the muddy parts in order to keep the trails narrow because stepping along the side of the trail just widens it.

On my first forest walk, our guide found a massive bird nest right above a stream, which I thought looked more like a messy collection of leaves and probably would not have noticed at all. Most of the guides also collect data during their walks to help keep track of the bird count.

In this case, our guide removed the two tiny eggs from the nest, measured them, and took the data down in a log book he carries. The Ecuadorian portion of the Amazon Rainforest contains 1,600 bird species (15% of the world’s known bird species), which is massive when compared to a country like the United States, which only has 750 bird species!