We booked flights to Rurrenbaque (some
name, ey?), Bolivia- the most common city to travel to to see the
Amazon jungle in this dirt-cheap country. Tom and Jovi booked just one-way tickets
because they have plenty of time whereas I needed to be back in Lima
by May 1 (actually the 2nd but I like to give myself grace
periods in case of unexpected twists and turns in traveling). My two-way ticket cost me 1300 Bolivianos (about $194). We took the last
three seats available on the 3:15pm flight to Rurrenbaque, none of us
sitting next to each other. In the airport, I sat in a corner to
charge my computer and I met an exceptionally handsome Israeli named
Noi who had been stricken with salmonella in Bolivia but still
had the enthusiasm to chat with me with his gorgeous green eyes. He told me where not
to eat in Rurrenbaque, recommended a hostel with a huge, refreshing
pool which would come in handy with the 3000% humidity in the Amazon
as well as a business card for a travel agency where we could book
our jungle tours. Luckily Noi told me that normally the agent sells
the trips for 900 Bolivianos but that they give Israelis a price of
600 so I should be sure to mention that an Israeli sent me. The
thirty minute flight on the 18 person airplane was uneventful and
humid. The plane consisted of one aisle with single seats on either side. At the very back of the plane was a row of three seats. I sat in the middle. We landed on a cement strip in a cleared piece of land
surrounded by jungle. I exited the plan walking towards the direction
of the designated bus which would take us into town and I stepped on something
squishy. I looked down to find a big pile of poop under my left shoe
but the squishiness had come up and curled on top of my big toe. Yum.
The group of 40ish people standing around me all looked up as a
response to my squeel and all I could do was laugh. I frustratingly
boarded the bus with Tom and Jovi and we rode into the small town of
Rurrenbaque, Bolivia. We checked into the recommended hostel named Ambaibo and
after paying for our first night, Tom and I let Jovi and her
salmonella-infected body rest up while we booked our trip into
Pampas- an area of the Amazon which is more of a wetland infested with easily-spotted wildlife rather than
the actual jungle which has abundant wildlife, but is hidden by the thick greenery. We wanted to see more wildlife which could be
spotted in Pampas. For six hundred Bolivianos (amigo
didn't even try to get us for 900 since I mentioned that an Israeli
had sent us) we signed up for a three day adventure with some trekking to
include room, board, and transportation for the entire trip which
comes out to $89.55- holler! The evening was spent in the swimming
pool and trying to stay cool. I got out of the shower and was still
profusely sweating. It was not sexy and I was feeling miserable. Upon
returning from dinner, Tom discovered a mammoth moth in the room
which was an issue with Jovi who had a traumatic experience as a
child and would rather sleep outside in the wilderness of the Amazon
than in the room with a moth the size of her hand. Tom, with the
amount of love he has for his girlfriend of three years proceeded to
chase the moth out by strategically throwing socks at the furry
creature whose wings made the same sound as a bird when it flew.
After gently striking the bug so as to send it out of the room, I would switch the light in hopes that the
moth would find its way to the light shining through the door from
the outside. After twenty minutes, about eleven sock-tosses and
a few screams, we reached success and decided to allow the freakishly
large insect to remain right outside of our door. The work was worth
it as we slept peacefully (but not sweat-free).
We woke up at 7:30am
to have breakfast by 8am to be at the travel agency by 8:30am, ready
to leave at 9am sharp. After locking up our bags in the storage room
at the agency, we were instructed to ride in the jeep with a
different agency's group because of a lack of space. Our three hour
jeep ride was like something you'd see in the movies; dust all around
from the path for cars cleared from what was probably the home of
hundreds of thousands of animals and the occasional jerky breaking
from the line of wild cows (and sometimes sheep) crossing the road.
Our car consisted of me- the designated American, an Israeli couple
on their honeymoon, the Kiwi couple, another couple consisting of an
Australian and an English girl who met while on a work and travel
visa in Canada, and the only other single person- a lovely girl from
Iceland. We arrived at the Rio Beni (Beni River) with sore tushies
and Tom and Jovi and I went to join the initial group we were
scheduled to leave with only to find out that there wasn't room in
the boat. We were passed off again to a completely different tour
guide, staying with the group of people from our jeep ride. Annoyed
that we didn't get to stay with our group, we scoffed on over to our
new assignment and were immediately greeted by our guide, Negro.
Negro introduced himself to me, praising my beauty and I shook his
hand noticing that he as sans index finger on his right
hand. I made it my goal to warm up to Negro and find out what the
heck happened to his digit. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I
spotted something moving in the water and exclaimed while pointing
with my still-attached index finger. Negro was pleased to tell us
that what we saw were dolphins and that there were plenty more to
see. We helped Negro load the boat with supplies and he made sure to
tell me that the two cases of beer were for just us two. This was the
beginning of Negro's massive crush on me and it only got better. The
following three hours were adrenaline-filled as we cruised down the
river in a wooden boat equipped with uncomfortable metal chairs which
wasn't noticeable while observing the incredible wildlife.
Occasionally we'd stop to see a jungle bird in a tree, turtles
sitting on a branch, a crocodile on the river bank, and when we got
closer to our campsite- howler monkeys! Negro maneuvered our boat up
to a tree where he spotted some monkeys and he grabbed a banana from
his sack, extended his arm to a branch, and we watched in amazement
as four monkeys ran down the branch to Negro's hand (minus one
finger) and proceeded to eat the banana! As Negro gave everyone a
turn to feed the monkeys in their natural habitat, our sneaky furry
friends devised a plan to distract us with their cuteness while
another hopped onto the boat and stole a banana from Negro's knapsack!
Negro shouted at the monkeys which didn't phase them and Tom reached
behind his seat to shoe them away. We approached the campsite which
has been built above ground for two reasons; rainy season and the carnivores reptiles that live in the water. Upon arriving, we were
greeted by a group of monkeys in the trees. While marveling at their
greatness, one the monkeys threw a bottle of mayonnaise from one of the
highest branches that they had stollen just the day before! Luckily
the bottle didn't hit anyone. We were shown to our rooms which were simple, muggy, and
conveniently equipped with mosquito nets over each bed. While we waited for
dinner's preparation, Negro introduced us to Pepe- a Black Cayman who
lives in the river stationed under the kitchen ready for leftovers to
be dropped to the ground. Negro attached a chicken foot to a string,
attached to a stick and tried to lure Pepe, the three meter Cayman
onto the ground for educational purposes. I climbed down from the
platforms which was the only thing preventing Pepe from snacking on
the body part of his choice (probably more than just an index finger). Well Pepe wasn't having it- all we got
was some movement but he stayed in the water. I don't blame him.
Dinner was served at 6:30pm and after I scarfed down the rice and
salad, I had to leave the dining area because I was dripping with
sweat. I walked over to a lookout built high above the water where I could cool off (but not before covering myself with bug spray) and
watched the sunset in a state of shock that I was in the freaking
Amazon in Bolivia. After the sun had set, Negro
instructed us to get back in the boat and to bring our flashlights.
We were going alligator sight-seeing looking for the red reflection in their eyes when a light is shone into their faces. We spotted about
eight and next thing we knew, Negro was maneuvering our boat into
some branches and he had a baby alligator in his hands! Negro
proceeded to explain the difference between alligators, crocs, and
caymans with the ladder being the most aggressive. He showed us the
membrane over the baby's eyes which keep their balls
(eyeballs...haha) moist and cool while they bake in the sun and sleep.
We got to see its teeth and our fearless guide showed us how to tell
the difference between males and females. I was beginning to think
that I was pleased that we got pushed into a different tour group
because this Bolivian jungle tour guide has had the same job for 22 years and really knows his stuff. His passion for
the jungle really shone through. By the way- not only does Negro
speak Spanish and English, he is fluent in Hebrew from working with
so many Israelis for the last 22 years! Dude knows more Hebrew than
me- including all the bad words. We returned to camp and I played a
few rounds of Rummy with Hagid- my new Israeli bff and an Australian
with dreadlocks down to the middle of his back. Hagid and I ended up
talking about being Ashkenazi (her husband, Oded is Sephardic) and we
compared the different types of traditional foods we eat as Eastern
European Jews that Sephardic Jews don't eat. We talked about
cholent, tzimmis, what we're allowed to eat on Pesach and Hagid was
shocked at the fact that we eat matzah balls (Hagid had no idea what
that was so luckily I knew the word kneidelach) every Shabbat. She
taught me a recipe for borscht and asked if I eat jelly soup (which I
think is P'cha?) I had never had such a discussion with an Israeli
and it felt rather comforting to be in her presence. It even made me
feel 'more Jewish' to know that I celebrated Shabbat every Friday
night with my family whereas Hagid remembers one incident in her home
where she had family visiting and her father had to call a Rabbi to
confirm how to properly conduct kiddush. Hagid could count on her ten
fingers the number of times she had been to synagogue for shabbat
compared to the every Saturday of my childhood from as far back as I
can remember until I left for college being spent in shul. Hagid and Oded
were impressed with my traveling to Israel twice and the fifty or so
words I could recite in Hebrew including 'where is the bathroom' (but
not being able to understand a response). After several card games
and lots of laughs, I headed to my bed for a good night's rest. I
crawled onto my mattress which mostly felt like a wooden platform, sprayed
myself down with repellent, and shut my eyes. I woke up to the sound
of pouring rain at an unknown hour of the night and had a hard time
getting back to sleep. The next time I opened my eyes, it was bright
outside and I could hear the monkeys making noises- probably fighting
over more bottles of mayo. After breakfast, we loaded into the boat with our bathing suits and cameras wrapped in plastic bags from the high volume of rain to go swimming...with dolphins...pink dolphins. Yea I know right? We zoomed down the river and arrived at our spot to find three other tourist boats so Negro took us to another site. We arrived and Negro instructed us to exit the boat and jump in the water. We couldn't tell how deep it was, but because it was the hang-out grounds of some dolphins, we knew there were no predators because otherwise there would be no dolphins. Everyone got in the water which was warmer than the rain and quite refreshing and after a minute or so, we heard screams from the English girl who clearly felt something swim up against her feet. One by one someone would exclaim that they felt something and usually a moment later, we'd see a dolphin swimming about in the general vicinity of the strike. They also loved to play. They'd swim up to someone, mostly Tom who they seemed to show the most affection, and splash around with their tails. It was awesome! I didn't get to take pictures because of the rain but i'll have the memory for life. After almost an hour with the dolphins, we returned to camp to shower and change. While resting up in between our next adventure, I was walking around and hear a loud noise-almost like a monster. The Australian and I walked over to the swampy area built above ground to examine the sounds to discover two alligators. We called the group over and I went to fetch Negro and my camera! I came back in a hurry although walking with caution because the wooden plats that are about one foot in length have no railings. I wobbled over to the group and watched as Negro climbed down from the platform- eight feet above the ground, onto the wet land of the swampy patch slash mini pond. Negro approached the wild yet sort of domesticated (I mean how domesticated can an alligator be?) reptile and informed us that we were in the presence of Antonio Banderas. Negro looked up and said 'Lorena, ven' which means 'Lauren, come.' I looked around for Lauren hoping he didn't mean me and remembered I was the only Lauren. Shit. I swallowed my fear reminding myself that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and walked around to the ramp and made my way over to Negro who was standing over the just-shy-of two meter cold-blooded carnivore. Negro grabbed my hand we slowly reached towards Antonio's head. There was nothing preventing Señor Banderas from taking off my index finger or the Negros hand. I could feel the oxygen moving through his nostrils as our hands surpassed his eyes. I touched his forehead and watched as the membranes on his eyeballs moved back and forth. I screeched, Negro scolded me for yelling, and Antonio turned around and headed in the opposite direction away from the noisy and tasty-looking person. While I ruined it for the group, Negro maintained his love for me and we did end up spending nearly ten minutes learning about the alligator. We all reunited at the boat for our next outing- fishing! Not just any fishing- piraña fishing. Our trusty tour guide brought us to the piraña infested area of the river and passed out our fishing gear- fish hooks attached to fishing line attached to a stick. We placed pieces of raw cow meat on the hooks and made sure to cover the point because the fish have learned to avoid to metal points of death. The nine of us dropped our fishing string into the piraña-infested water and after just two minutes, Brandon, other stray and other American from Arizona whom we picked up caught a fish! about nine minutes later, I caught a piraña! A big one too, the size of my hand. Negro walked over on the wobbly, yet seemingly unsinkable boat to show us the sharp teeth capable of ripping off a chunk of flesh if it grabs onto a finger (watch out Negro!). The next fish was caught by me! But this time a sardine which Negro sliced up for more bait. Next three fishies- Negro. Then the Australian caught a fish, then me again with #3 fish but #2 piraña. Negro caught five more and to wrap it all up, Oded caught a teeny tiny little fish. Every was shocked with my skill. I guess i'm just cut throat when it comes to jerking the hook through the mouth of a predator. A few times people brought fish out oft he water on hooks, but with the flapping, if you don't pull it in to the boat immediately, they escape back into the water! We went back to camp with twelve pirañas that the chefs would sauté in vegetable oil and lightly sprinkled with salt. Our recently caught-from-the-Amazon piraña dinner (on top of the pasta already on our tables in the sauna-like dining room) was tasty and very soft, reminded me of sea bass. We went to bed pretty early, but not after celebrating the 25th birthday of the girl from Iceland whose name I cannot pronounce.
Upon waking up in the morning and putting on my swamp boots, I headed to breakfast which was scrambled eggs, bread rolls , butter, jam, and fresh papaya and pineapple. We boarded the boat and went to our destination where we would go anaconda hunting. Yup. Twenty minutes down the river we climbed out of the boat and walked on shore into the swamplands. We spread out in a line and proceeded to march through the mud looking for slithering snakes. Negro plowed ahead and I slowed down because my sock-less feet inside the swampy, sweaty, and humid boots were beginning to form blisters on the pinky toes, Achilles tendons, and big toes. After an hour and now experiencing sever suffering, I turned to Jovana who was not far from me, also moving slowly because of the attack of the unforgiving mosquitos she was now experiencing at rapid fire. We gave each other the nod of approval to head back. Just as we turned around, we heard shouting from the tour group just ahead of us (who were in reality behind us) 'anaconda! anaconda!' We rushed over the 300 meters of swamp and arrived with the tour guide holding the two meter snake with one hand firmly on its head and the other on it's tail. One by one, as we shouted, the other members of our group came to the site to examine the incredible species of snake. Negro finally showed up after trekking back from what seemed like two kilometers from moving at such a ridiculous pace. He knows exactly what he's looking for and how to examine the path he's taking. We all took turns holding the snake and snapping photos with it around our necks, but not after washing out hands in the mud to get rid of the repellent which is harmful for the snakes. We headed back to the campsite where we docked to take the boat back to our site to pack and get ready to begin our trip back. We ate a big lunch consisting of tons of side salads and deliciously roasted chicken. After lunch I quickly packed went to find Negro to give him a tip for showing me such a good time. I handed him 50 Bolivianos and gave him a hug. He made sure to hold me real tight. I then went up to the lookout where I had watched the sunset the night before to watch the river and Negro showed up after just a minute or so. He grabbed my face with his hands and said that he wanted to give me something and leaned in, puckered up, and closed his eyes! I pulled my face back and used my right hand to push away the 50 something year old man with nine fingers and cut my hand on the machete in his hand! Luckily I had my tetanus vaccine but I still started to bleed. Negro took his finger across my booboo wiping the blood away. Negro told me to be careful, kissed the top of my sweaty head, and walked away. Gross. We boarded the boat for the trip back which was peaceful and full of wildlife! We spotted five turtles sitting up on a log, two crocs, and three capybaras. Google the latter. Yea. When we arrived where the jeeps would pick us up for the ride back, we posed for a group picture. When my camera came up last in the group's, the photographer counted to three and on 'three', Negro kissed me on the cheek. Wonderful. We hopped in the jeep and rode back. A little over an hour into the trip back, we got to an extremely muddy area in the road where there were two other jeeps stuck and making very little progress. Our driver floored it and made it through without slipping and sliding too much. There had been huge storms the night before which had left the roads nearly undrivable. We approached two more large sections of muddy road along the way and had to pick up one tourist whose jeep was stuck in the mud and he had a flight just two hours later. That was a squishy ride. Luckily the kid made it back just in time for his flight. Tom, Jovi, and I checked into a much cheaper hostel without a pool, scrubbed our bodies down and went out for dinner. I scarfed down my dinner because I forgot bug spray and was being eaten alive (let along dripping sweat) so I went back to the hostel to lay on bed without moving a muscle hoping I could bring my body temperature down to 120 degrees. I made it an early night since I had a flight scheduled for the morning back to chilly La Paz. My morning flight was uneventful and short. I shared a taxi with a handsome ginger German from the airport to the bus station and I booked a ticket to Arequipa for 125 Soles. I had 3 hours to kill at the bus station so I went to get some lunch and eventually boarded our bus at 3pm. I sat next to William, a very attractive Brasilian musician traveling to Lima for a few gigs. We talked the entire way in Spanish during our red-eye bus trip (the only language we could communicate in, but neither of our native languages) and shared the scarves and wool socks from my luggage because our trip was absolutely freezing! We'd occasionally giggle at the man snoring like nothing I had ever heard before, and wave at the baby in front of us who seemed to deal with the cold temperatures better than the adults sitting behind him. After what seemed like 20 hours, but really only 14, William and I arrived in Arequipa. We hugged goodbye and exchanged information so we could see each other in Lima before my flight home. I hopped in a taxi and asked to be driven to a hostel about a block from The Point Arequipa because I wanted something low-key and without a bar so I could rest. My #1 choice was booked-up and I was too exhausted to go anywhere but The Point so I walked the block and checked in to the nearly empty hostel. I was so beyond tired and didn't get to sleep until the sun came up. I rested up the next day and caught up with friends just before booking a flight from Arequipa to Lima at 8am the next morning. Again, my flight was uneventful and just over an hour. While I paid a bit more for a flight, it was well worth it considering a bus from Arequipa to Lima is 18 hours. I'd rather pay for the comfort and the curtailed travel time. I checked into to a non Point hostel, again, to rest up without the noisy bar. I paid for a shared room but was alone so it was just like having a private room. I walked over to The Point to say hello to all my friends but when I got there, the place was nearly empty. Come to find out, it was Peruvian Labor Day so the important people I wanted to say to weren't around. It was funny- when I rang the doorbell, someone came to the door and spent at least a minute interrogating me. She even asked me to wait in the lobby while she fetched Señora Tina. The new girl obviously hadn't heard how famous I was. Amiga hesitated to let me in but i didn't really give her a choice and plowed straight down the hallway to the garden to see who was working in the kitchen. I said hi to the few people I recognized and continued on to Miraflores to run some errands. I made it an early night and woke up in the late morning to make my way to Hugo y Luz's house to say hello, goodbye, and thanks for everything. Later that day I had dinner with a girl named Rosie who I met through a friend here in the States. Rosie was in town for a conference so we got together in Miraflores. That night I went to The Point with a few friends for some drinks then out to the disco. Just like old times, I found myself awake until the sun came up and I crashed hard before I had to be at the airport at 10pm. Things went smoothly in Peru. Come to find out, the woman sitting next to me on my flight had never been on a plane before and didn't speak English so I assisted her when the attendants came around for drinks and breakfast. Ana was very appreciative and thanked me for staying so calm as she was nervous about flying. When we landed in Atlanta, I welcomed her to the United States and helped her fill out the immigration card which didn't have a Spanish translation. I walked around during my layover to stretch my legs and try to stay awake so as to not miss my connecting flight. I boarded the plane and noticed that the seat next to me was still empty on our supposed full flight. An attendant came over to me, handed me an alcoholic drink coupon and said 'act surprised.' Confused by his actions, I said 'woohoo! thanks man!' The attendant told me 'not yet' and as I looked up, I saw my Dad walking down the aisle of the plane! Was I dreaming? I unbuckled, scooted out of my row, and ran up to one of the people I had missed the most while I was in South America; Stan THE Man. Then I started crying tears of joy. Everyone around me wanted to know who this creepy man was so I assured them it was just my daddy. Stan was visiting a friend in the midwest and had coordinated with Franny to fly into the same airport on the same day so she could make just one trip. Next thing he knew, he was able to make a reservation for not only the SAME flight, but in the seat next to me! We had a lovely chat the whole way home and were greeted by Hariel in baggage claim. Overall, my travel home was easy and I didn't accidentally leave any fruit in my luggage so customs was a breeze. I am so fortunate to have had such a wonderful experience during my travels. There simply aren't enough words to describe my gratitude towards everyone I met along the way for contributing to my life adventure.
Thank you for reading my blogging/journalling/story regurgitation.
And lastly, i'd like to dedicate this series of entries to my parents who support me in everything that I do. I love you guys.
