In the Amazon

A bit of a random post, this one.  But these are some fragments that stick in my mind – ways I’ll remember the sights and sounds of the Amazon rainforest after our five-day trip there from Iquitos.

• the tranquil mirrorlike flatness of still black water
• a menacingly furry tarantula
• the lonely donkey-like braying of a camungo (jungle turkey)
• the peppery bite of bright yellow ají
• the triumphant hooting of monkeys overhead
• the seeming ever-present sting of yet another mosquito bite (word to the wise:  skin in contact with a mosquito net renders said mosquito net remarkably ineffective – if you are tall and typically sleep in anything other than the foetal position, this will result in many an ankle bite overnight)
• the burning and tingling of a fresh coating of DEET on the neck
• the valiant struggling of little piranhas in the floor of the canoe
• the dead-ant smell of crushed termites, smothered on hands as insect repellent
• the fresh dirt taste of the water while swimming
• the incessant buzzing, chirping, rustling of cicadas
• the unfamiliar almost sing-song, nearly Brazilian accent to local Spanish
• the blue and red flash of a passing macaw (guacamayo)
• the acrid smell (and, unfortunately, taste) of DEET
• the flashy rainbow sheen of the baby rainbow anaconda (anaconda arco iris)
• flashing swings of Herman’s machete:  everything from path clearer to pencil sharpener
• the peeking heads of river otter (lobo del rio)
• the cool, refreshing lightness of a midday swim
• the languorous floating in air of a mamavieja (‘old mama’ eagle)
• the coiled danger of a lancehead snake (jergón)
• the confused glare of the hypnotoad (la rana)
• the fluttering azul of butterflies at the river’s edge
• the cool misty humidity of the early morning
• grey and rose dolphins, snorting as they surface, playfully swimming, infuriating to photograph
• the oppressive heat and stickiness of a still afternoon
• the comfortable laziness of an afternoon resting a-hammock

Comfortably a-hammock

• the puzzled concentration of misunderstood Spanish
• languid paddling of the canoe’s oars
• the dusky tastelessness of local instant coffee
• the eager, energetic grin of Herman off to search out something new in the jungle
• the jarring inappropriateness of counting new species of spider while squatting to answer the call of nature in the woods
• the near-hollow echo of the jungle telephone tree roots
• the ominous bellowing of distant thunder
• the glorious freshness of an unexpected breeze
• an early morning chainsaw as a local fashions new beams for his house
• a subtle pinkish tinge to the clouds before darkness
• the quiet boredom of another hour or so waiting, ‘relaxing’, for the next scheduled something of the day
• the soaring grace of a condor/eagle/falcon
• the satisfying squelch of the mud trail in gumboots in the jungle
• the satisfying ‘swish’ of bats swooping through the campsite at night
• the brown and black waters mixing as tributaries join just outside the national park (Marden calls it ‘cafe con leche’)