Sleeping in a hammock in a boat is maybe even more glorious than not on a boat, because the floating feeling that comes with being in a hammock is doubled by the actual floating of being on a boat. On top of that, the clouds are right there, so it’s a bit like you are in heaven. It rained in the night, but not on us, as the crew scrambled around as soon as the first drops fell and dropped the tarps all around the boat to protect us and our stuff.
We have established some agreements that hold our whole unit together and one of them is: “Awaken each other gently.” But when you are asleep in a hammock in a boat and that boat turns on at 4:50am, it is quite a jarring experience. We didn’t exactly break our agreement, but we definitely did not awaken gently. We sleep hard here because we are so tired so we often awaken with very real confusion about where we are. Today was a great example of that, but also a great example that we can adjust quickly, figure things out, and grab just a few more minutes of precious sleep.
We didn’t quite make it in to the community at 6am, but we pretty much walked off the boat at that time, which isn’t bad. It was still more dark than light, and we connected with our guides, got a brief orientation to the “Trail of the Brazil Nut Trees” (but in Portuguese), and started walking. We agreed to be quiet. Like really, really quiet. We have lots of skills and talents, but being quiet isn’t one of our strongest. Still, the immensity of the forest and the fascinating things that we could see everywhere we looked convinced us to stay quiet so we could hear everything and so that we were less likely to scare away a friendly monkey or bird who might be near the path.
We stopped in a schoolyard and did some mild stretches, then walked into the nearby forest, knowing it would be quite awhile before we got to the “primary forest,” or the untouched, uncut, original rainforest. Already, though, we were seeing plants that looked vaguely familiar, as some of them were giant sized versions of houseplants we might have in California. Our guides would stop and show us interesting insects or frogs or lizards (plus one very small snake!) and also brought down the fruits of some of the trees and split them open with machetes to let us try them. One was a relative of the coconut and is a source of food, oil, and even fuel for them.
Enormous butterflies would float by on the path every once in awhile, some of them a bright purplish blue. We could hear hawks and monkeys somewhere close by, but we never got a good look at either. After walking quite a way on a pretty broad, clear path, we took a sudden turn onto a much narrower path and headed up a steep hill to the place where the huge Brazil nut trees stand at about 100 or more feet tall.
We also reached an amazing vista point where we could see over the top of the whole forest we had traversed to get to the old growth area. We could see the river and other faraway banks off in the distance. We couldn’t quite see our boat because some of the huge trees were blocking our view. We sat for a few minutes and took it all in.
We started to head down and our guides would hit some of the trees with the blades of their machetes to show us the medicinal milks and saps that they use. On one tree, they pointed out the scars from these demonstrations for groups that had come before us and we realized that at least four of them represented groups from SMC.
We made a particularly entertaining stop at a little swimming hole in the igarape, which is a waterway that flows between two rivers. This specific spot is lined with a therapeutic mud that would be the envy of every northern California spa. We got in the cool water, slathered our faces and the exposed parts of our bodies with the mud, let it dry, then rinsed it off, maybe in the low waterfall at one end of the swimming hole. Our skin felt great.
We gathered our things and then walked for about another twenty minutes until we met some waiting canoes that carried us through a shallow marsh and back to the bank near our boat. We walked through the community from a different direction and stopped to visit their newly-established library, which is more like a children’s reading room. We saw some familiar books (but in Portuguese) and got a kick out of picturing Amazon children enjoying Shel Silverstein as much as we have (or still do).
We stopped back at the pousada where we started and they had some of their local honey, teas, and crafts available for us to see and buy. What we really wanted, though, was the bottled water in our boat so we said our farewells and headed back onboard.
We decided to motor straight on to our next destination, which was about 3.5 hours away. That meant that we could take full advantage of the fact that we hadn’t taken down our hammocks this morning and just melt into them to get a little more sleep. Some of us messed with photos, videos, or our journals and a few of us just sat out on the top deck and watched the river.
Our next destination was one that every one of the SMC groups over nine trips has visited: Urucureá, a primary arts destination that specializes in handmade baskets and other goods made out of the palha (fronds) of the tucumá tree. They call themselves Tucumarte and gave us a demonstration of their entire process, including using a huge pole to cut down a new frond, shaking them like we did our palhas on the beach the other day, then drying, dyeing (with all natural fruits, seeds, and leaves), and weaving them into incredibly intricate items.
We then got to look through their current inventory of goods and purchase a few things to bring home (maybe as gifts for some of you!). We won’t spoil it by telling you what we bought, but almost everyone bought something. It kind of weird for buying things to seem so foreign, as we have had little opportunity (or will) to buy anything at all since we left the city.
We then motored to a nearby beach where our plan was to have an outdoor fish cookout, but the sky got cloudy again and we thought that the rain might thwart us, so we started cooking before we even got there. Most of us bathed in the river once we arrived, and all of us beat the rain. The fact that we have lights on the boat is drawing in some flying insects – none of which seem to be mosquitoes – so we might have to shut down our night more quickly than usual just to spare ourselves the annoyance. After such a beautiful day, it’s a small price to pay . . .
The sunset from the boat.
Photo 3 & 4: Small bridges made out of wood planks allowed us to cross over muddy patches in the amazon forest.
Some of the trees in the amazon are so tall that any photos could not do them justice. Lauren got the chance to climb up part of it.
Here’s Mylan and Rylee on the canoe ride back to Atodí.
One of the children in the community making bows out the fibers of the tucumá tree. An important step of the process of making the hand-woven goods.
We set out on a hike at 6:00AM so that we could see this beautiful hike before the sun got too hot.
This is a local library in Atodi where children of all ages can practice reading. Every week volunteers come in to read their favorite stories to the children.
This is the artisan community that we visited today. We got a chance to purchase Tramas e Cores, which are hand woven in the community.
A gorgeous view before the lightning storm hit.
Nina standing amongst all the hammocks on the upper deck of our temporary home.
A viewpoint of the Arapiuns along our hike this morning through the untouched rainforest.
ReplyDeleteThe more of your spectacular adventure I read about each day tells me all of you will cherish this time and carry it a lifetime. It sounds surreal. Enjoy!