11/30/09: Into the Amazon, Part 2

Alright! I’m refreshed and ready to recount the rest of my trip into the Amazon!

Andre led us to our boat: a great, covered, metal canoe with a huge motor attached to the back. We piled in, and the next thing I knew, we were speeding down the Napa River! The Napa is one of the big rivers that feeds the Amazon River, and as such the Napa is one of the biggest rivers in the world! It is hard to describe the pure joy I felt simply being on that canoe. I spent most of the 2 hours on the river simply sitting in my chair, feeling the wind whip by, and watching the edges of the river as it gradually changed. From Coca, it started as secondary forest, bounded by the farms of (I believe) the Quechua, a local indigenous group. Handmade wooden canoes poked out of the trees, and young boys watched our canoe as it roared past. As we chugged on, the forest became denser, and we began to see birds: swallows, sandpipers, and even a big kingfisher. After some time, I sat at the font of the canoe and simply absorbed what I was experiencing: a canoe ride through the Amazon down an Amazonian River. Unbelievable; it was like a daydream from my childhood.

Time passed. I watched huge trees and great palm fronds wave as we went by. I enjoyed talking to Andre, hearing about his life, how he got into birds, how much he loved Ecuador, and all the interesting things he had experienced. It was fascinating.

Suddenly, we saw great cranes along the shores, dirt roads carved into the forest, and a huge barbed wire fence surrounding great buildings on our right. We pulled up to the dock; we had reached the oil development.

Entering the development was somewhat odd after two hours of chugging down a river lined with forest; the paths were all lined with tall barbed wire fences, and suddenly there were people everywhere. It was comforting, though, to meet one of the two people that run the research station, and to see a whole bunch of students as they were leaving; probably on the canoe we had just taken. I smiled as I watched a line of leaf cutter ants march past along the bottom of the fence. I felt strange and out of place, but we didn’t stay long. We went through a mini version of airport security, wandered through a large warehouse, passed some workers taking a break, and hopped on an open-air bus.

The bus went off, and we were rackting down a newly graveled oil road. The drive was very long and very noisy, but we now we were right on top of the forest. I watched densely packed trees and bushes zip by. Even more interesting were the people: native children wandered the road edges, some wearing school uniforms, others almost entirely naked. They shuffled off the road and stood to watch as our bus rattled past, throwing up huge clouds of dust in its wake. We could see old shacks and dwellings behind the trees near our road; covered benches near the road seemed to mark bus stations. We even saw a school further down the road.

The ride was long and contemplative, but it felt like a small taste of the lowland culture. Although on the oil road, Andre told me that the people we saw were native to the land. I wonder how the oil has impacted their lives.

Eventually we stopped at a bridge, and a path led us to the edge of the narrow Tiputini River. We lugged our stuff down a great hill while the local guides laughed and joked and while an indigenous girl, who was swimming in the river, peered at us from behind a bridge pole. With each step, I could feel us delving deep into the Amazon.

The boat ride up the Tiputini was another long one. But I spoke with Andre and Diego; we talked about Cornell, research, what it was like to work at the station… it was interesting. They seem to really enjoy their work. But, as they said, you’ve got to… otherwise how could you stand the conditions, the lonliness… I enjoyed learning about their lives, but I soon felt the need to appreciate the Tiputini River, so I joined Kim at the front of the boat. The Tipuitini was much smaller than the Napa, but we saw many things on its shores: turtles, monkeys, parrots, toucans, kingfishers, herons and far more… all surrounded closely by huge trees. I soaked in the sun. Andre spoke of piranha fishing and swimming by the docks. Hope we get a chance to do cool stuff like that!

Finally, we came to a wooden staircase that led up into the rainforest: we had arrived at the Tiputini Biodiversity Station! Glenn and Mike met us, and we tromped up the stairs.

The station is unbelievable! The main area is a polished wood floor dining area, with carved wood chairs and nice tables; there are 8 tables with 6 or so chairs at each. At the front of the room is a bar, and behind that is a kitchen. The cooks sere our food over the bar. Tight paths lined with big wooden blocks and boardwalks lead some 50 meters into the woods to a great, 2 story lab building. We have an office in the northeast corner; there’s desk space, cubbies, a dry box, and even air conditioning! Crazy! The office, or even the library, seem like nice places to relax if you need to get away from the heat of the forest.

Another 25 meters down the path to the northeast are our cabins. They’re beautiful; lean with red wood. Don and I share the first one; there’s a bed and a bunk bed, with a night table, and some shelves, and we have our own bathroom with a shower. The area is gorgeous; monkeys, parrots, toucans and others are said to frequent the area. And there’s a patio outside to hang out at. We unpacked. Then we had some time before dinner, and I chose to explore J I went to the overlook just up from the bathrooms by the eating area, and found Mike and Glenn were there, birding as the sun went down. I also checked out the student cabins; mostly like ours, though a bit more crowded.

For dinner, Mike, Glenn, Don, Kim and I sat with Amy, a grad student from UC Davis studying primates. She seems really cool; very traveled. Dinner was delicious! It seems like the cooks here are very well practiced, and put a lot of effort into their work.

I fell asleep that night to the random sounds of insects and birds chattering just outside our cabin. An unbelievable end to an unbelievable day

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