The Amazon River

Day 1

After almost 30 hours of bus travel from Lima I had arrived in Pucallpa, a steamy Peruvian jungle town on a tributary of the Amazon river. The bus had been stopped by a police roadblock because there was too much snow on the highway ahead, so we waited on the bus until morning to attempt the pass. Too much snow to get to the jungle? Only in South America.

In Pucallpa, first I went to the market to buy a hammock, Tupperware and a spoon, drinking water and some snacks. Then down to the docks. Luckily, a cargo ship was scheduled to depart for my destination - Iquitos - in only a few hours. I walked past all the various cargo under tarps and in metal barrels and tied up my hammock in a big metal room on the third storey of the boat amongst at least 40 others. It was going to be cosy. I also bought a small mesh hammock from a tout on board so that I could store my backpack above where I slept. Apparently it would be more safe. I then went and payed directly to the captain - 100 soles (about $35) for food, accommodation and passage for the 4 day journey.

I then took off my shirt and went up on deck with a book to watch sunset. After talking to a kid for a while I was approached by a relatively hot group of Peruvian girls who wanted to take photos posing with me. I´m sure they were going straight on Facebook. This could be an interesting few days. I spotted another non-Peruvian and went to talk to him. He was a 24 year old Spaniard from Barcelona who had already been travelling for a year and a half. We then joined up with a 22 year old Argentinian and the only three non-Peruvians on board went out for dinner. Apparently the departure time had been delayed until 10AM the following day as we waited for a truckload of flour. $1.50 for a fish dinner is not bad.

Back in my hammock on board people had moved in on each side of me, both with crying young babies who were sleeping on the floor virtually underneath me. If I fell out of my hammock in the night (a genuine concern because it was my first ever night sleeping in a hammock) I would fall on a baby. Not the best night sleep ever.

Day 2

Went and got breakfast and new batteries for my headlight in the market, then waited in my hammock for departure. As I got hungry around lunch time I asked around and found out that departure had been pushed back to 5pm. As I was looking for a place to eat, I was beckoned into a bar by a bunch of rowdy old drunken men, who wanted to buy me beers. It was filthy hot and Peruvian party music was blaring loudly. They shouted and competed amongst themselves to talk to me and ask me questions. My Spanish comprehension was being tested by their slurred speech. Eventually all of them had gone back to work, save two. One had fallen asleep with his chin on his chest and the other, the oldest of the group, had taken to the dance floor by himself. He then invited me back to his house to meet his family. So we piled into a motortaxi with his bundle of whiteboards (he was in the business of selling whiteboards on the street). We then sat on his porch as his wife served us cold Fanta and he introduced me to his kids and grand kids. His granddaughter was definitely giving me eyes. I then thanked my hosts and went to a place they recommended for Ceviche, and dish of uncooked fish marinated in lemon juice.

Back on the boat I had an epic siesta like you only can in a hammock in the jungle. I then found out that the departure time had been pushed back to 5AM the following morning. Went for another fried fish dinners and an ice cream. Then stood out on the deck and watched a lightning storm over the river, preparing for my second night on the boat without leaving.

Day 3

When I awoke the following morning we had actually departed. Although I couldn´t be sure until I got up and checked, because the ship has a top speed travelling down river of about 15 km/h. I was informed of this my a guy in a white polo shirt, jeans and a fanny pack, who ostentatiously was showing off his GPS. He worked in the logging industry and explained how logging areas must be charted by GPS and approved by the Government. Apparently it is not a very stringent approval process, because I saw plenty of barge loads of old growth Amazon hardwoods passing us on the river. He also explained about how the girls in the jungle are Caliente (hot, passionate) and how he was ¨fucking¨ (the only English word he had used) a girl in town while we waited for the boat to leave. In the 5 minutes I was talking with him he had hit on about 3 different girls, and kept on trying to show off his GPS which he repeatedly produced from his fanny pack.

I had missed breakfast, but the lunch of rice, chicken, beans, potato and platano was pretty decent. Although it got pretty repetitive when you ate it every day. You lined up and they mark it off on your ticket as they serve you into some vessel that you must provide yourself. I then joined up with the Spaniard and Argentinian for a joint amongst the cargo. We sat on a front end loader at the very front of the boat and watched the jungle go by. We were joined by guy with red cargo pants, a crew cut and a purple wife beater singlet saying ´Student´ in Spanish with lude stick figure drawings of drinking, having sex and sleeping. As soon as he started talking to us he put one leg up on the side of the boat, with his crutch in our face, and started these unconscious thrusting motions. He had joined us to see if we wanted to buy weed from him. No thanks.

After a siesta, I was back out on deck for sunset. I talked to a guy who each month had to do a 2 day voyage each way to the nearest town with an ATM. He also explained that a boat we passed was full of Peruvian made beer, near the beginning of a 1 month round trip far into Brazil.

Whenever we stopped at the larger villages, a hoard of people would come on board selling anything from food to animals. For 30 cents I got a bag of a peeled jungle fruit I had never heard of before that tasted something between a guava and a pineapple. Other people bought parrots taken from nests in the jungle with clipped wings so that they could not fly. I also saw a kid with a baby monkey, also stolen from its mother in the jungle. I had heard of the trade of Amazonian animals, but  had no idea it was so prevalent. The Spanish guy had volunteered a couple of months in a refuge for animals rescued from the illegal animal trade. He told me about a Puma there that was purchased off the black market and kept in the courtyard of a butcher, being fed the off cuts each night. Eventually the cute little puma became a big adult (which tends to be the case) and they gave it to the refuge, saying they could no longer care for it.

Each time we passed a village, almost everyone on board would go and stare at the villagers that would themselves gather to watch the boat. People would even put down the meal they were eating and cross to the other side of the boat to get a better view. At first it was no big deal to me, but by the end I got it. With so little external stimulation, any human contact was the best entertainment available. Sometimes virtually the whole village would assemble to watch the boat pass, with kids rushing out of their houses to try to get a good seat.

Each time we stopped at a village the boat´s population would swell. Like a spreading patch of mushrooms, new hammocks would crop up everywhere. Previously that day I had counted 64 hammocks inside, but when we docked at a village at 10PM at night we took on many more passengers. A hammock squeezed between me and the woman with two young children that I thought the laws of physics, let alone human decency, would not permit. It was a friendly guy that was always staring at me whenever I looked. That night, I later found out, our population swelled to about 150 people, although for most of the journey there was only about 100. Apparently, at the beginning of the Peruvian holiday season, the boat can accommodate up to 400 people. I felt like an insect squished together with so many others in our suspended cocoons/hammocks. That night the phones of the Argentinian and another person were stolen. But they were left on top of bags or charging and not inside closed let alone locked pockets.

Day 4

I woke up late, thinking I had missed breakfast. I went down to the kitchen to check, but ended up being the first in line of the entire boat. After we docked in a large village, this Christian conspiracy theory group started taking over the boat. They put up these banners everywhere explaining how the Government was planning to put microchips and bar codes on us, and where already watching us from small cameras hidden in our television sets. Certain world leaders, mainly Americans (eg Obama), were named as false prophets or even the anti-Christ himself, all apparently with ´the mark of the beast.´ The Apocalypse is coming. Then they explained the key principles of Christianity and how the church was our only saviour from this impending evil. The people who put up the banners were on their way to an annual congregation of people from all over the Peruvian Amazon.

We went to have another smoke, but it started pouring with rain, so I sheltered in my hammock, read, then had a siesta. Then had dinner. Eat, rest, sleep. Eat, rest, read, sleep. That was the routine.

From the deck I watched a few canoes with outboard motors catch up with us and tag a ride to the next village. We passed a naked man bathing in the Amazon River from the flooded front steps of his house, and someone on the boat gave a wolf whistle. Everyone laughed. After some hesitation, the naked man gave a wolf whistle back. Nice come-back. When we arrived in the village I witnessed some astonishing feats of unloading cargo. Into one canoe was unloaded 14 cases of beer and two of cola. Just when I thought he could not possibly fit more into his boat, the cherry on top was carried out: two large stacks of eggs precariously balanced on top of everything else. Then two live chickens were passed across upside down by the feet. So at least in this case, the chicken was not before the egg. On another canoe was unloaded a brand new double bed, still wrapped in plastic, which wobbled its way uncertainly to shore.

Day 5

Each time I returned to the toilets they were in a worse state of repair. Less locks working (one had no door at all) and more toilets blocked and filthy. Sometimes I had to decide between working toilets or working locks. But today, on day 5, it finally happened - the water stopped working, leaving the toilets un-flushable. It was only ever water pumped up directly from the dirty river, but it was better than nothing. Later that morning I was up on the roof where I saw the water tanks overflowing. The pump had obviously been repaired. I saw a man amble up the stairs in a self-satisfied manner, as if he had just repaired the water system of the entire boat. Then he was met by a small torrent of overflowing water. His expression changed in an instant, and he turned on the spot and ran back down the stairs.

I watched a child play with two puppies as I ate my watery oatmeal for breakfast, then climbed up onto the roof of the fourth storey control room with the Spanish and Argentinian guys for our first joint of the day. It was only 8.30AM. I asked the Spanish guy why we were smoking so much. His reply, ¨Lo tengo, me gusta, prque no?¨ (I have it, I like it, why not?) pretty much sums it up.

From up on the roof we got a better sense of both the boat and the surrounding jungle and river. The boat was on the larger end of the scale, with a huge cargo area, and was made only a few years previously in Pucallpa, the shitty little city from which the boat departed. I was surprised they had the capacity to make such a large boat. I was equally surprised about the manoeuvres that such a large boat was capable of. When ever it ´docked´ in a village it would turn around so that it was facing upstream, and thus would not need to tie up to anything. This huge boat would literally poke its nose up against the washed-out muddy bank of tiny little villages. From up on the roof we spotted a pod of 4-5 river dolphins.

After the other guys went down, I sat at the front of the roof and watched the landscape float by until lunch time. From this perspective I could see further into the jungle, and got a better sense of how the boat was controlled. At one of the villages we passed a little boat was blasting ´Eye of the Tiger´. Strange but somehow appropriate.

After lunch I talked to a nice lady for about an hour, who gave me an open invitation to come and stay with her in her village beside the amazon. Tempting. Siesta, dinner, then watched sunset with the other two guys up on the roof again. Next stood on the deck and talked to some wistful old Peruvian men about their world and a little of mine. A plastic bag of food scraps was thrown into the seemingly lifeless river (yes all the Peruvians threw rubbish into the Amazon) and I saw it torn apart by a hoard of fish within half a second. I later found out that four years ago a similar boat on the same route had sunk. Most survived, some drowned, and some were eaten by fish. Yes! There are actually man eating fish in the Amazon River. While eating a full grown adult will probably kill them in the process, they will take you down with them. With that image in mind, I went to bed.

Day 6

I woke up well past normal breakfast time, but went down to the kitchen to try my luck and see if they had any left. Just as I asked they announced the begging of breakfast and I was again the first in line of the entire boat. Smoked with the guys again, but this time not on the roof since it was raining. I sat and watched the mist shrouded flooded little villages on stilts with half naked children as we floated by. Very Heart-of-Darkness.

It was the end of the wet season and the water level of the Amazon River was as high as it has been in about 40 years. Twenty-four years ago there was another flood, but not as bad as this one. Many have had to flee to higher ground in the cities and towns as their homes are submerged, but even the outer suburbs of the cities have been flooded. I met a guy living in Iquitos who was sleeping in the collage gymnasium with his wife and two children, since his house was underwater. I also saw a bunch of government issued refugee-like tents and portable toilets lining one of the main streets of the city. Others have decided to stay in their houses and sleep on tables with water below them.

Those who stay in their villages outside of the cities and towns have problems too. There is little land on which to cook or sleep when they are out on fishing expeditions, and fishing, the main livelihood of many people, is more difficult because the usually abundant lakes have now been linked to and flooded by the main river. It is also more difficult to access drinking water and the brother of the guy working at my guesthouse was sick with a pretty serious fever from drinking dirty water when out in his village. This guy working at the hostel was also just recovering from a week in hospital after contracting malaria.

The high water level has also had a devastating effect on the crops grown alongside the river. It will take at least a year to replant and grow bananas, for example. While quick growing vegetables can be planted as soon as the water recedes, there will be a food shortage for some time to come. It will be another two months before the water has receded enough for the people to start planting crops and rebuilding their homes and lives. Without crops to earn income, the people will be forced into more clearing of forest for timber for the next year.

As I was returning to my hammock, I was intercepted by a group of children who I had been trying to play with, without success, since the first day one the boat. For some reason they had now decided it was OK, and we played for almost an hour. Horseback rides, ´airplane ´other forms of physical gymnastics, pile ups and lots of squealing and giggling. A couple of mothers came outside to see what the noise was, and at first looked sceptical about a Gringo playing with their children. But by the end I had a crowd of onlooking mothers with approving looks on their faces. One even thanked me afterwards.

After lunch I went back up on the roof with the other guys to watch the official begging of the Amazon River, as two large rivers merged. Then my usual lunch-siesta-dinner routine.

We arrived in Iquitos, our final destination, at about 11PM. I was woken the narcotics trafficking police, who wanted to search my bag. My search was OK, but another guy was not so lucky. He was caught with a big stash of cocaine destined for Brazil and was escorted off the boat. I played a bit more with the kids, who had been roused by the commotion, then went back to bed. There I was hit on by the very obviously gay cook, who had been talking to a friend in a hammock near mine. Later I heard is friend ask him (in Spanish): Do you want the Gringo? Yes or no? Yes or no? I then replied (in Spanish): I understood that. And I´m sorry, but I like women.

The following morning I awoke and the Spaniard, the Argentinian and I were the last ones on the boat. It was 7AM. We quickly packed our bags and tried to exit the boat, but it had moved further down river and was no longer attached to land. So we payed a passing little boat to take us and our baggage to dry land. We had arrived in Iquitos, the largest city in the world unreachable by road. It had taken 6 days to travel about 1000kms as the bird flies, but much longer including all the bends in the river. From here, at 106 m above sea level, the Amazon River travels more than 3000kms more before it reaches the Atlantic ocean in Brazil. At its mouth, the river is 240 kms wide and discharges more water than the following 7 biggest rivers in the world combined. I had not spoken a sentence of English in 10 days.