cargo boating

so i decided to go to the amazon.

first step: get as far east as possible.

this is easier when your bus doesn't break down. four times. turning a nice little 18 hour trip into a 30 hour one. complimented by a rapidly clogged bathroom, crying children (i wanted to cry too) and a continuous stream of blasting cumbia with 80's music videos as a special bonus. lets just say we had more than a couple beers at 7am during a 3 hour “rest stop” (aka breakdown numero 4). we finally made it tarapoto, sweaty, tired, and we weren't even in the jungle. a couple necessary days to recover, a hilarious sunday funday with some rowdy tarapoto locals (read: old drunk peruvian men) and we were shuttled to the port town of yurimagua.

then: become human cargo.

ships carrying anything and everything from cattle to corn ply the mighty amazon and her tributaries, and for the bargain deal of 50 soles, you can string up a hammock and come along for the ride. for four days, i was human cargo. the eduardo pulled away from the dock on a hot march afternoon, and a ramshackle jungle of hammocks, humans and goods slowly made their way to iquitos.


(home for 4 days!)

the second and third floors were for passengers and stuffed to the gills, forcing one to weave through the cacophony of colored fabrics and a maze of human cocoons. entire families swung side by side, sometimes one on top of the other. most days were spent hammock swinging, lazily watching the riverbanks of the amazon basin slowly slide by, flanked by foliage so lush its as though green gas oozed from the leaves, rising into the air and sticking to my already sweaty skin.


(a rainbow in the rainforest)

i longed for a cooling swim, but the muddy brown water of the churning river looked less than inviting. speaking of river water, that was the liquid used for cooking, cleaning, washing, etc etc etc. showers left you feeling a bit scummier than when you started. and i could have sworn a brown “soup” we were served for breakfast one morning was straight from the river. surprisingly, i didn't get sick. must have a stomach of steal!

i queued with the passengers for meals announced by clanging bell, clutching my own bowl and spoon, a greasy peruvian chef ladling a questionable stew from a large vat, picking my way through a mess of river water, rice and unidentifiable floating objects. a saving grace were the opportunistic children who would hop on board during quick cargo stops, flinging fresh mangos and banana leave wrapped-goodies into the mouths of hungry travelers.


(what i woke up to one morning. he took a liking to my hammock)

such cargo loadings also provided constant entertainment. every couple of hours the boat would dock on some small town, thatched huts emerging from the dense jungle, and the whole community would gather to watch the hauling process. cattle, bulls, plantains, yucca, roosters, pigs, sacks of corn, lumber, everything under the sun to be traded in iquitos was packed onto the first floor of the eduardo. no machines, no cranes, just men, muscle, sweat and what looked like back-breaking work.

as dusk approached, we were greeted by the most flamboyant, breath-taking, this-is-why-i-travel sunsets. an orchestra of colors painted the sky, dusty pink and fiery red, ever-changing as the sun dipped beyond the horizon. the indigo sky reflected onto the muddy waters of the amazon, giving it an incredible iridescent sheen for one captured moment, a vista no camera could ever truly record. and as if planned, on the last sunset two pink river dolphins surfaced, a rare species unique to this region of the world.


after 4 days though, i was done. stuck in a cycle of sleep, eat, read, sleep, eat, read, lather, rinse, repeat, i was never really tired and never really awake. sudden stops by the boat would send my hammock crashing into the person next to me. on one midnight stop, a large peruvian women decided to squeeze her hammock right close next to mine. and she had eaten one to many beans in her lifetime. oh, flatulence. i yearned to shower in something other than amazon water. you can only eat some many crackers. i began to despise my hammock. i think my muscles atrophied from lack of use. then i looked around, at the families packed with all their belongings, and remember that while i'm doing this for fun, for the experience, everyone else was just living. doing what they had to do. and that shut me up. everyone was ecstatic though, when iquitos, the largest city in the world not accessible by road, finally came into view. we arrived. i survived. welcome to the jungle.

next up: the floating markets of belen and a trip with a local medicine man into the AMAZON