Quote of the week: “We go with the flow here; we move at the jungle speed.”
Spanish of the week: Camella (cinnamon)
After we bid farewell to our bikes—the faithful modes of transportation throughout our journey across the Andes—we prepared for an entirely new chapter of our adventure: the river.
We arrived at our destination at night, and our ears were rich with the noises of the jungle: the gentle clicking of the cicadas and the sweet swell and rush of the river next to which we made our home for the next two nights. Luckily for us, Thomas’ father, Francisco, who had been our kind and loyal support throughout the bike expedition, bringing us gear that we were not able to carry with us while biking, had found a couple of abandoned cabins conveniently located next to a large pavilion-esque shelter, which is where we chose to create our kitchen and store our gear. Thanks go to our camp manager Ezra and our kitchen manager Isa for turning it into a homey and beautiful space for us to occupy over the next couple of nights.
After getting settled into our new jungle home, we were introduced to two new additions to our group who would accompany us on the river portion of our expedition: Anjo, an experienced kayaker and friend of Thomas and Marcea’s, and Sebastian, Thomas’ cousin, whose knowledge of the ways of the river never ceased to impress. Both were joining our group to not only teach us how to kayak and to read the river, but also to provide aid should someone fall off the raft or cataraft in the rapids (which never happened).
After breakfast the following day, we broke up into three groups to learn about the energy of the river and the art of living on it. Throughout the morning, we learned how to rescue someone using throw ropes, learned how to swim in white water, and how to read the river. (Don’t worry parents: Anytime we were in the river we were fully equipped with life vests and rafting helmets.) We jumped eagerly into the cool rush of the rapids, felt the coarse strength of the throw ropes as we tossed them out to our friends swimming down the river, and learned about the different aspects of the river—holes, eddies, rowlies, and so on—all the various manifestations of the power of the water.
In the afternoon, we worked together to assemble the cataraft, one of the modes of transportation we would be using on the river. It is also known as Thomas’ baby as he is its proud creator. The idea behind the cataraft is simple: Two pontoons are held together by a chainwork of plexiglas and PVC pipes covered with mesh to create an area to put gear, while those who are propelling the craft sit on the pontoons.
Although the sun was hot and the sand flies persistent, together we assembled the cataraft, finding the proper position for each pipe and securing everything with a series of bolts, ropes, and rubber, all under Clayton’s watchful eye (he had been assigned the task of getting to know every aspect of the cataraft as totally and completely as possible, so as to ensure a painless setup). In the end, we had a raft as ready for adventure as we were.
The following day we set out on the river with backpacks full of our own gear, as well as group gear, packed into the bed of the cataraft. Eight of us paddled the cataraft (christened the Yucca), and six of us paddled the raft (named the Schnitzel): There was rivalry between the two boats throughout our journey on the river, such that could only be settled by the occasional boarding and tossing off of passengers on the opposing boat.
We were gleeful floating over rapid after rapid, thoroughly soaking ourselves in the cool water of the tropical river, a perfect antidote for the relentless heat of the sun’s rays. The amazing waterwoman Kestrel, Anjo, and Sebastian paddled alongside us in kayaks. If we wanted, anyone of us could take a turn in Kestrel’s kayak.
We reached our destination early that day and set up camp on the cool river sand among the smooth complexity of the rocks that seemed to line every beach along the river. We stayed at this
campsite an extra day instead of moving down the river toward the final stop in our expedition, Shiwacotcha. The extra time gave us a chance to play in the jungle and connect to its abundance, to explore the vastness of its life, the dip and climb of its vine-laden ravines, and the unending pulse of the ants that seemed to colonize everything.
We woke early the next day so Leo, Hytham, and I could gather water from the gentle trickle of a jungle spring off the steep drop of a nearby cliff. Eventually our whole group ventured into a nearby crevasse in the rock. Up we climbed, through a labyrinth of ferns, vines, and the comforting presence of grandmother trees that lined our way. We soon realized, however, that if we were to keep going up the mountainside we had chosen, we would have a vertical climb. We were so driven with the adventure of the jungle that we couldn’t resist the appeal of letting loose our inner jungle monkeys to find a way up a spiral of vines, tree roots, and rocky soil. Thomas and Sebastian hopped up first to spot us and lend us both a rope and helping hand, and one by one, we all scrambled, some more gracefully than others, up the side of the crevasse. Nelly’s mode of climbing was definitely the most entertaining of our group.
As we explored the jungle, we marveled at the wide variety and vibrant colors of the plant life—rich greens and pinks, shy purples, and deep blues—such a change from our familiar calm evergreens and elegant oaks of New England. Hila was particularly excited about the plentiful jungle flowers that added a quiet beauty to the forest, lining the trunk of nearly every tree or sprouting from the trees themselves.
Something we never saw a shortage of during our day of exploration (and throughout the entirety of the river trip) was ants. From every crevice of every tree, the rich debris that lined the forest floor, even from large nests that were created inside of living plants came the army of ants, ready to pounce on unsuspecting bare feet and food left out for a split second too long: large ants with equally sized pinschers, small red ants with the ability to make you squeal and dance wildly should they infest your clothing, small black ants that like to live underneath logs . . . ants, ants, ants, the pulsating life of the jungle. When our day of adventuring through the jungle came to a close, some of us decided to wrangle the cataraft and paddle back to our camp; a few of us bathed in the sun’s warmth on the beach as we waited for the cataraft; and a few brave souls decided to swim back to camp. Although our camp was on a beach just across the river from the one we were on, the strength of the river’s current made swimming across it an arduous task. Noah, one of the first swimmers to set off, ended up practicing some of his whitewater swimming skills and landed some ways down the beach from our camp, sopping wet and a little disgruntled, but enjoying the river none the less. Leah faired much better by swimming upstream for a while so as to counter the river’s current and even avoided the nearby rapid as a result (I was impressed, as my river-swimming abilities are not quite as strong).
The next day we set off on the river once more, our path led by our trusty navigator, Robert, who charted our way throughout the entire expedition—a role that he filled with such grace and perseverance as to earn the entire group’s heartfelt gratitude for his efforts. We spent the day on the river, each of us getting the chance paddle the Yucca, the Schnitzel, or a kayak. That day we stopped at the perfect tree to launch oneself off into the cool river water. Nestling underneath the tree on a cliff was a large black lizard with yellow, iridescent spots—a beautiful, unique sight. We took turns shimmying our way up the tree and falling down into the sweet river water below—such a treat! We finally made camp on another beach and prepared for the arrival of Michael and Marcela, two other Kroka New Hampshire–Ecuador Semester teachers who would be switching out with our beloved Marcea and Thomas for the final three days of our expedition.
The following morning we bid farewell to Marcea, Thomas, Anjo, and Sebastian (although Sebastian will be joining us for our mountain expedition as well) and the Schnitzel. We packed the cataraft and the remainder of our group and personal gear into our backpacks and set out to trek the final distance to Shiwacotcha. During the day we experienced the true power of the heat and humidity of the jungle, yet also the beauty and grace of jungle life—the bright blue, metallic insects that crawled across the forest floor; the giant elegant ferns that lined our way; the cool jungle streams from which we gathered water. In addition to Marcela and Michael, Nadino a young man from Shiwacotcha, and semester alumnus, joined our group for the final leg of our journey.
We arrived at Shiwacotcha at noon and shared camella tea and bananas with Nadino’s family, who we would be staying with for the next couple of days, as we learned about the project we would be working on during our time in Shiwacotcha. We were to help finish roofing the family’s chozon building, which was a particularly unique task for us because we would be using tokillas, a typical roofing material of the jungle. Tokillas are giant leaves, almost resembling palms, which when woven onto the roof frame correctly and when smoked constantly can last up to fifteen years as a reliable and very beautiful roof. The following day we split into three task forces: One group carried bundle after bundle of the heavy tokilla leaves from the depths of the jungle to where the construction was occurring; learning to balance the bundles on our shoulders or on our backs, all the while trying to avoid the occasional unhappy ant that happened to be wrapped up inside the leaves. Another group learned how to properly bundle together tokillas by stripping away the fibers from the stem to create a sort of strip from which the bundle can be adequately secured. And the third group worked on the roof itself, learning how to weave and wrap the leaves tightly to the roof frame. At the end of the day, although we had not completely finished the roof, we were happy with all that we had accomplished, all the new skills learned, and the new friends made.
The next day we split into two groups—boys and girls—to learn the different daily tasks of men and women in Shiwacotcha. The girls, accompanied by Isolina (Nadino’s mother and a wonderful cook), harvested yucca, which is a root vegetable similar to a potato and a staple food of Ecuadorian jungle communities. One very interesting thing about yucca is the efficiency of the plant itself. Once it is harvested, the stem part can be replanted, and in three to six months, an entirely new yucca root will be ready to harvest ensuring a perfect cycle of planting and harvesting. In addition to yucca, we also harvested several papaya fruits, some of which were harder to get than others. Some teamwork was needed: Zoe stood on Leah’s shoulders while wielding a long stick to poke the papaya off of the top of the tree while Kestrel stood below and caught the falling fruits.
While the girls were enjoying harvesting what foods the jungle had to offer, the boys harvested fruits of the pilche plant, which can be used to make bowls and cups. During the process of acquiring the pilches, Noah, Hytham, and Leo found a new calling—chocolate making. They gathered several cocoa fruits and saved the beans they found within (which are currently drying out in the warm Palugo sun). When our two groups joined together for lunch, we had two different projects at hand: scraping out and carving our pilches and making cheecha, which was a project only for the girls. In Shiwacotcha, as well as many other Ecuadorian communities, cheecha is made only by the women by chewing up the boiled root of the yucca plant, depositing it back into a large wooden bowl made solely for that purpose, and letting it ferment for a few days. It is a drink with many of the same healing properties as Kombucha and is a staple drink and source of sustenance for the people of Shiwacotcha. It is also said that because it is made with the saliva of the village women, so many antibodies are shared between the community that it is rare that any person in the village gets sick. We all got the opportunity to try cheecha while in Shiwacotcha, some liking it better than others (Zoe and Ezra developed a particular affinity for it, though I cannot say the same for Noah or myself). At the day’s end we all had beautiful carved pilches to display and were eager for the next day, which would be our final day of our river trip and the final day of our expedition.
We rose early that morning, ate one last breakfast with the family that had so kindly welcomed us into their home, piled all of our gear as well as ourselves on the cataraft and headed down the river. Although at the start of our journey there were several places where the river was too shallow for our rather heavy boat, and we would have to jump out and push it down the river, eventually we reached a place where we could just float and enjoy all the river had to offer one final time— a time to say goodbye and give thanks to all it had taught us over the course of our long, beautiful adventure.
When our last day of expedition came to a close, we worked hard to dissemble the cataraft and get our personal and group gear in order, and we all piled in the familiar Palugo van driven by Victor. Arriving at Palugo that night was a heartwarming experience for all of us; we all felt so lucky to be in a place, however far from our own individual homes, that we could consider a home—a beautiful place in which we could all rest, rejuvenate, and escape from ants (finally).
Our first expedition is an experience that all of us will never forget and never cease to appreciate—all the skills we learned, the people we met, the families we became a part of, all of these things we will remember in our hearts and minds forever. And as we step forward into a new chapter in our time here, we step forward as a community.
Messages from our community:
Nelly says, “Mom, please send the earring from my cartilage piercing, it’s in the little turquoise flower bowl on top of my dresser in Colin’s room; you can tell it because it has a pointy end and a bell-shaped stopper.”
Happy Halloween!
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