snowninja

Similan islands used to be the unchartered territory -- the chain of 9 tiny islands that only off the beaten path people would venture to. Now it is a prime tourist destination, boasting more white people (russian models wannabes) per Thai people ratio than most places. To be expected.

I left the comfort cocoon of casa de la flora to head out to "the islands" today. Or at least thats what the guide kept referring koh similan. "Koh" is Thai for "island(s)". One caveat to booking things last minute is you might miss out on obvious experts if their SEO isn't quite as good as say bottom feeders. In this case, I ended up with a bottom feeder horrible booking agent. She was quite good at demanding the 50% deposit be sent to her via ATM transfer only (even though the site supports credit card transaction). I ended up paying what I thought was a discounted price for a 2 days 1 night snorkeling & camping trip but it ended up being just the boat fee. Once at the pier, everyone else on the boat got the all-inclusive treatment except us. For us, everything was extra - gears, food, tent, etc. The island guide said that I was booked on an a la carte fare instead of the package fare so the agent from the web could get a bigger paycheck. What a royal bitch. I have her bank account and name so I'm definitely leaving serious reviews behind.

 

The boat ride to the island took about 1.5hr on a mid size speed boat. We snorkeled along the way. Despite the predictable outcome of extreme motion sickness when in water, I stubbornly subject myself to it time and again. This time is no exception. I lasted about 30 minutes max in the water before vomiting violently.

Campground was nice and modest. The tent can fit about 3 people, 2 comfortably. It was nice to hear the sound of the ocean while sleeping on the sand. But I must say, the romantic notion of camping on the beach has its pitfalls. First: the mozzies. One pretty much need to be caked up in deet on top of sunscreen to survive here. Chemically coated skin isn't exactly sexy. Second: sand. It is the beach after all and it gets every where. Third: bats. A shit ton of them. They live in the trees right above the campsite. These aren't the blood sucking kind (phew) but they are the loud kind. Very loud. Fourth: heat and humidity. The combination may seem obvious, but when it manifest in having your bedding stink like wet clothes and having nothing dry to wear for 36 hours., ergh. So yea, compare to that posh pad, this is considerably the opposite. Still, If I were to do it differently I'd still camp out exactly like this, but on another island that has no wifi. Yea. This island has free wifi. No cell service tho. Despite that long list of what sucks about camping here I felt slightly robbed by all the amenities. It really should be more remote. Maybe there is no more remote places left in this country anymore. A bunch of us went climbing to the view point spot in the afternoon. It was a hard 25min rock scramble - not exactly a walk in the park but not straight up climbing either. It was fun. The top had quite a rewarding and peaceful view. 

Think the best bet might be to attempt a pre sunrise climb back here. It'll be a lil tough in the dark but that might just be the fun of it. Sure enough it was an awesome 5:40am climb, even with the monsoon rain that greeted us at the top. It was here, with the spectacular view, that things between specialK and I became clear in my head. The long ambiguous road that led us here has to end somewhere. People will be who they will be. We are just more cut out to be best friends. Neither of us have to love the other less, just differently. It feels better in this role. We'll both be free.

We left at the end of the rain cloud, stopped for a small glimpse of the rainbow emerging at the horizon, and went for round 2 of vomit snorkeling and more island hopping before heading back to Phuket in the late afternoon.

When consulted with the BKK crew about the south the unanimous answer to my original idea of visiting Khao Lak was questionable.

"you know it is very haunted there. Lots dead people from the tsunami." "still? It's been years. Isn't there some kind of expiration date for lost souls?"

"No. Sometimes people will still find dead bodies floating under water when they go diving. Remains of victims unrecovered, you know. Sounds of people crying at night on the beach, that kind of stuff."

"Damn. That'll surely choke up your BCD."

Nothing triggers the irrational fear in me more than Thai ghost stories. But the thought of being in Phuket just because of silly spooky stories wasn't appealing either. I went anyway. Khao Lak is a quick hour drive north from Phuket airport into the Phang Nga province. Much smaller and quieter beach town, Khao Lak services many boat trips to the beautiful islands of Similan, Surin, and others. There are also many cute waterfalls nearby. It was said to have been the most damaged area in Thailand from the Tsunami. There are no traces of the damage visible anymore. A string of hotels are available in the area. A super useful tip of visiting agoda.com for hotel listings proved quite clutch. I landed a one nighter at this place called Casa de la Flora. It wasn't cheap, but if one were to balance it out with the camping cost, it was doable.

Little did i know this is by far and away THE best hotel I've ever stayed in. By far. It began by being greeted with stunning architecture that you only see in sites like open building or cool hunting. And if you know me you know how much I value amazing modern minimalist architecture. Everything from material usage, lines, landscaping, spatial arrangements - just perfect. Then there was the services - impeccable in every detail. Greeted in the room was this ridiculous entertainment system app running on a Mac mini that says hello to you BY NAME. Yea it knows your name. Interface design of everything from light switches to door knobs to labels on everything was well thought out, themed with purpose. Rain shower bathroom, private infinity pool, mood lighting box, advanced lighting control panel, free drinks, snacks, massages, breakfast, ... The list goes on. This isn't your typical 5 star hotel and they made sure you know it. Whatever pampering expensiveness I've ever experienced has now been put to shame by a long shot. The new bar has been established over night (by accident). That beautiful beach in the front of the bed? Side show.

Of course with every over the top exclusive hotel comes a tendency to be enveloped in its amenities. I could get lost in the poshness and forget all that remains of Khao Lak, but it's not really how I roll. Outside the frou frou walls were other nice hotels & blocks of establishments targeted for tourism. Authenticity could be seen in genuine conversations with the locals. The nice lady at the pancake stall pointed me out to where all the locals eat when I mentioned I wasn't into tourist food. SpecialK joined me on this leg last minute from his world tour via New Zealand / Japan so I had an accomplice to roll out into the night off the tourist track in search of the coveted late night food stalls. Another super nice lady at the massage place also informed me that the hotel I'm at belongs to His Royal Majesty The Prince of Thailand. I actually don't know how one properly refers to him, but he's the King's eldest son and I think the heir to the throne. Nice taste, prince. So in all, the lack of pre planning and adaptive discovery landed me a memorable spot once again. Life's good like that when you let it be.

(Pictured: late night road-side made-to-order homestyle stall)

Tomorrow we get on a boat to the island. No diving tho. Just snorkeling.

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Utter chaos. The master juggler has maxed out. Too many balls in the air, one's bound to drop. In the case of pre Thailand trip here, well, a bunch dropped. The good news is apparently dropping these balls is what's needed to teach me that I actually have a phenomenal support system. That I should really not try to rough life in solo mode all the time. That my friends are really all the safety net I need. And I'm so glad. Now I just need to learn to need others more. What would have potentially amount to 600 USD of dog day care cost resulted in a last minute perfectly orchestrated plan from friends and friends of friends. Mr. B is in good hands. The car is in good hands. The home is in good hands. 1/3 of the battle won. Good eggs to the rescue.

Work front makes up the other 1/3 of the chaos. Somewhere between the hugs, jame-o, quinoa salad, 4 back to back late nights, and lots of transfer meetings, the brilliant team has got me covered. Admittedly I still feel a sense of failure on this front. It could really have been more orderly. Lesson: fail fast. Pivot faster. The last 1/3 on the personal front remains a growing web of complexity in my head. What does one do when reason and emotion conflict each other and running away appears to no longer be a viable solution. In the words of the wise (spider) man himself: "you seem to tackle every problems in your life with fierce head-on determination except for this one thing. Why do you run away from this one single issue?"

Well. Unlike most trips, going to Thailand is kind of like running towards the issue. No goals here on this trip. Just looking to not flip out.

Somewhere between the bachelorette party, the family gatherings, the wedding, and the bridesmaid duties, I'm going to find time to head south, camp on a little island, unplug everything, and float with the warm familiar salt water for a bit. Where exactly? Who knows. In other news: if you've lost all hopes with regard to airplane food, try an Asian airline. Not really surprising to see plethora of edibles on board All Nippon Airways, but I had actually forgotten how pleasant it is to not worry about arial starvation. All you can eat healthy snack station: win.

Tip: they have this Japanese lemonade on board called Kuroba (?). It's a bit like a sister of yuzu but has a different scent. Not available in America. Delightful.

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Albums:

1. Naked and Famous - Passive Me, Aggressive You

2. Two Door Cinema Club - Tourist History

3. Cut Copy - Zonoscope

4. The Rural Alberta Advantage - Hometowns

5. The Raveonettes - Raven in the Grave

 

Concerts:

1. Cut Copy / Foster the People - Prospect Park Bandshell

2. Naked and Famous / Green Day secret show - Webster Hall

3. Two Door Cinema Club / Bombay Bicycle Club - T5

4. U2 - New Meadowlands

5. Cut Copy - T5 (yes, I'm obsessed)

 

Dishes:

1. Uni Avocado - Sushi Azabu

2. Totto Ramen - Totto Ramen

3. Kuro Ramen - Hide-Chan

4. Smoked Meat Sandwich - Mile End

5. Panna Cotta - Rucola

Can't really say it's in the top 5, but it can't go without credit that I did eat a Lion slider. 

 

Moments:

1. Hammocking El Salvador

2. Being escorted by teen military personnel out of a favela in Rio, Brazil

3. Night spear fishing in the Amazon

4. The night sky in the Amazon

5. Riding a horse for the first time in Salento Colombia

 

Movies & TVs:

What TV? I suppose the only movie I remember being decent is the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

 

Apps:

1. Day One - Beautiful, simple way to journal your life. Dropbox integration is mint.

2. FlipBoard - Reading made easy

3. Twitter - The obvious

4. InstaPaper - Amazing off-line support makes my commute productive

5. TED - Same as (4)

 

Destination visited (ALL):

1. Long Beach / LA / Palm Springs / Joshua Tree National Park, CA

2. Los Olivos / Solvang, CA

3. Colombia (Bogota / Salento)

4. Brazil (Amazon, Manaus, Buzios, Rio)

5. Scotland (Edinburg, Anstrhuther, St. Andrews, Falkland)

6. El Salvador (Playa el Tunco, Juijutla)

7. Boston, MA (x2)

8. Wolf Creek, CO

 

 

On 10.10.11 I bought a random RT to El Salvador. Goal: surfing (the non internet version). It was the perfect reset from my so-called connected life. A birthday gift to myself, if you will. The original intent was to fly blind and wing it. After hearing people talk about how off the beaten path El Salvador is and how dangerous it can be, I got a wee bit cold feet. It's not like I've never traveled in redzone states or gave a shit about any kind of travel warnings before, but this time around I actually didn't do any homework to properly judge the circumstance I was going to jump into (almost solo). So I sort of chickened out and pre-booked a guide. The trip ended up not being bad. We had a driver / surf spotter to take us places. We had free time. It wasn't a hugely rigid itenerary. So in all, the pre-booking just made a few logistics easier. The one thing I did as soon as i land: I turned off my cell phone. For the next 4 days I was to exist completely internet-free. It was liberating. As a matter of fact, so liberating I think I'm just going to make "internet-free" my birthday goal every year from now on.

I landed in San Salvador, the capital state, after what appears to be roughly 5 hours direct flight. It is closer to New York City than California. The RT was roughly $400+ and the cost of living once you land is so damn cheap, it's strange why there're not more Americans here. A quick 30 minute drive from the airport landed us in a tiny, tiny little surf town called Playa El Tunco. Not much exist here. There are a handful of thatch-roofed hostels, averaginga bout $15-$25 a night. Then you have a few bars / restos along the beach front, a few surf and souvenir shops, and sprinkles of rasta-fari tree-hugging hippie food joints. Perfect. You can probably walk the whole town in about 5-10 minutes. Getting out, tho, requires some knowledge of the chicken bus system. The fun kind. 

Most days were spent chasing waves in the morning, followed by hammocking, and ceviche munching. Not much earth shattering revelation or internal reflection happened on this trip. I just lived the moment in the present, watched little clouds float by, felt the salty skin warming in the sun. The sound of sea shell trinklets rattling in the wind. Life is good when you want it to be.

Day three we decided it would be fun to chicken bus further into the country. I picked out a tiny little town up the mountain. Not much happens there either, except for this local weekend food festival. Easy target. We saw more papusas per square foot than anywhere in the world. Every 5 steps there's a brand new papusa stand. No one speaks English here. No foreigner even comes here, it seems. It was like an emersion into a-day-in-a-life-of-a-salvadorean-rural-dweller. The authenticity was worth the 3hr bus ride.

 

I suppose I'd come back to El Salvador again. Next time perhaps with a group of people. It seems like a really fun place to be with lots of friends. It has the right amount of remoteness. People are super friendly. Food's good. Win-win all around. Once again, I found yet another living proof that travel warnings is a totally fear-monging piece of crap.

 

I told tales of Mattheas our guide through the 4 days here. At times he is curt, short, and demanding. Other times he is knowledgable, funny, and kind. He is without a doubt always unexpected. At the core he is less a tour guide and more a teacher. His goal isn't simply to run through the guidebook manual of where to take the tourists. He aims to educate us what it's really like to live the river life. Born in Guyana, he spoke English fluently. "The chosen one" - he told us. That's the meaning of his name. We noticed after the second day that other tour groups sharing the same common space didn't seem that ecstatic about their activities. After a few conversations with them we realized that we were not on the "usual" agenda. In the usual agenda, one lets go of the piranha fished. One does not attempt late night spear fishing, nor goes to the lengh that Mattheas go to show us his world. I felt so lucky to be in Mattheas's group. All 4 of us did. We became great friends with him. We eat with him. Crack jokes with him. Other groups remain separate from their guides. 

Day 4 is our last day. We took the boat out for one last peaceful, agenda-free river run. I'm going to miss this place. There's nothing else like it. The Amazon -- a romantic concept of deep forest far and away from all things familiar. I'm glad I experienced it with the group that I did.

When asked "If you were stuck in the jungle for 3 days and you can only bring 3 things with you what would they be?" ... Mattheas answered "A machete, my swiss army knife, and another machete". Before we wrapped up our trip, our crew decided we would get ourselves a machete in honor of Mattheas. We weasle our way into getting him to boat us over to the store down stream by challenging him whether he can do it in 18 minutes. He agreed. We all jumped into a new tiny motor boat and sped into the water.

Along the way he swerved swiftly onto a random river bank.. "Quick Thaniya, tie the boat." "Sir yes sir" ... I ran up, tied the boat. He jumps to the front. "I need rope. Who has rope. I need rope. Now." There was no rope on the boat. "Can you use this belt?" .. He took my belt, wrapped it around his belly, and proceeded up the limpy tree perched on the water. What. The. Fuck. ... In true Mattheas style, there was no story, no info, no heads up, nothing. We found out 13 seconds up the tree that he was climbing to get A GIANT SLOTH that was on it. Oh my god. Did I tell you this tree was super limpy? I mean it was swaying like nobody's business with his weight. Struggle ensued on the tree top as he almost reached the poor animal. Yank. Yank. Yank. No go. Sloth swung over to another branch and gave him a victorious grin. It was a good whopping 5 minutes more before he gave up and climbed back down. And the belt? Oh, it was suppose to be for tying the sloths' head so he can tote it on his back as he climbs down. Why am I glad he didn't catch the poor thing. Mattheas: 0, Sloth: 1 .. once again. (Apparently this isn't the first time he tried). That was his parting gift to us, his style. Man of many actions and few words. We love you.  

 

I can really use a cold Poland spring raspsberry lime seltzer, a shower, and an AC right about now. Or maybe just a jump in the river. I can settle with that. It's only 8am and already the sun is in full effect. I'm quickly reminded that is place is even closer to the equator than Thailand. Damn.

We spent the morning boating to someone's house. I think this is the part billed as visiting the indigenous village. Mattheas showed us around the grounds, talked about fruits, vegetations, and the local way of life. He's not very good at explaining cultures as he is at explaining science. Saw some pineapple farm, tapioca plants, locusts having sex, weird duck-chicken alien, and a fuck load of sun. The only redeeming point of interest here was when I walked over to the little boat to help the kids peel a boat load of tapioca. (literally a boat load) .. Then we came back to base for much needed swim and a shower. Half of our group divides here - the italian + finnish couple and the Germans leave today. We remain at bay with the Portugese + Brit couple. Even more people showed up, including the stereotypical young doe-eyed american girls .. you know the type that's about to head to college and is ready to mount any man that moves. At this point it's kinda moot to really make an effort. If situation presents itself I'll just pull out the friendly card when convenient. The usual river swim, lunch, and hammock o'clock takes place. It really doesn't get old. So relaxing. On the menu for this afternoon: canoeing.

Now one can easily imagine what this commonly known activity is like. Here in the Amazon, things are done ever slightly differently. We pulled out in a much smaller boat this time, now with only 4. The paddling doesn't take place in the same water body as the boating tho. We headed straight into the jungle canopy - where water is still, animals are abundant, and plants grow much tighter together. It was surreal. We must have seen at least 30 different birds - all of them now blurred into one category: another god damn bird. Wading through the dark waters tho - that was really rad. At points Mattheas would pull out his machete and whack away vines and random dead plants in the way. Occasionally we would get stuck in shallow areas and have to jump out of the boat, hold ourselves to limpy submerged barks, and push through. We got to know the couple much better on this leg - Laura and Flavio. By the time we got out the sky has turned pink. Dolphins are out and about all over. We sat for a long time in our canoe, letting the water take us along, just simply breathing in the most spectacular evening sky. I have to say this part of the trip is my favorite in an unexpected way. That is, until after dinner.

Tonight we go spear fishing. Mandatory long pants and shirts mean we're going into mosquito coast. No sweat. Deet to the rescue. Mattheas was on a mission to get fish for the lady who runs the base camp. It seems there's a little flirting thing going on. We took off way later than our usual night trip. Rox and I were determined to succeed, given our "stellar" performance on the piranha fishing bit. The boat skimmed along the vast open river at first, then veered sharply into a pitch dark bush. My heart sank. Are we seriously going in there? At this hour? Holy. Shit. I could see real fear enveloping everyone on the boat. It's one thing to roam around the open space of the Amazon waters at night.. It's another thing to duck into the shadow of the trees. This is where everything lives. By everything I mean everything that could possibly eat us. We were told to shut our lights and hold our oars. Mattheas went up to the front of the boat with his paddle, spear, and machete. One lone flickering light from his head shone on the water as he quietly moves the boat like one giant hunter. We were quiet. Everything was pitch black. To spear fish one must head to the shallow parts of the water. Float like dead leaf. Silent like killer.

Fish number one spotted. "Thaniya - come here" Mattheas said firmly. I limp over to the front. He quietly pointed to the fish in the water. "Get it". I grabbed the spear, thinking to myself, uh.. heh? I mean I've never even hold one of these sucker before and you want me to kill that stealthy thing in the water in the dark? Are you kidding me? A little instruction, perhaps?... ... Silence ....  Ok. I guess I'll just recall how they do it in Lost the TV series and wing it. Pow.. miss. 

"No! You cannot do it that way. Wrong!" .. Oh .. now you tell me I did it wrong. I'm already pissing my pants standing in a tiny ass little boat in the fucking Amazon jungle at night with a spear and now you tell me I did it wrong without giving any instruction? ... Breathe. Breathe.. Breathe ... Mattheas grabbed the spear and said "You must hold firmly. Very close. Get in very close. One hard and fast movement. Like this ... *whoosh* ... He was not please I missed the fish. It was supposedly a big one. I felt more horrible as time went on between the first spotted fish and what felt like forever. We kept looping deeper and deeper into the forest canopy, moving into tighter and tighter space in search for fish number 2. Mosquitos, bugs, and whatever else we couldn't see surrounded us like a feast waiting to happen. Fish number 2 spotted. I went up again. This time Mattheas look me in the eye and then said "Go". He guided to spear to the fish. So quietly it was. I stood for a second get the right balance. Then *whoosh* ... speared. Out of the water came this beautiful blue and yellow thing .. It looks more like salt water parrot fish that it does a regular fresh water fish. It struggled at the end of the spear. Mattheas was happy. 

"Did you see how I take it out?" He said, referring to how you should take the fish out of the spear and drop it in the boat. "Um.. yes. Sort of" I said. "Do it" .. "Ok.." .. The theory is to wedge the fish against one of the wood plank in the boat and pull. I did unsuccessfully. The fish kept looking at me. The back of its gill destroyed by the spear. It kept looking at me as I tried to kick it out of the spear. .. Crack... The spine broke. It's still on the spear. The tail continues to wiggle violently as it struggles for whatever remain of its life. I started crying uncontrollably.. "I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry" ... Another kick drops it off the spear and into the boat. Flap ... Flap ... .... Flap ... No movement. Tears came out of nowhere. I was shaking. It kept looking at me. I kept looking at it. What felt like eternity was only a 1 minute replay. I sat down quietly. Got hugs from everyone. The rest of the night was a blur.

It's one thing to eat animal. It's another thing to kill animal. Taking life is the most barbaric act one can do. We live in a society where that concept is so far removed from our daily lives. We go on living, eating animals, with only superficially abstract understanding of what it takes to get that animal on to the plate. When I killed that fish, I felt like a part of me died with it. I felt horrible. Really horrible. More horrible than others who did the same thing. I know this sounds really over the top, given how gluttonous I am about food, especially fish.. I love eating fish. But I've never had to kill it. I've never taken any life outside of insects. It sat on my conscience and made a permanent mark. 

 

When it was Rox's turn to fish, she too missed a few in the same exact manner. I mean, who the hell would ace this on the first go around. No one. At one point Mattheas was furious over one missed fish he jumped off the boat in an attempt to recover loss. To much dismay the fish swam away into the crevase of the vines. Suddenly... a ruffling noise in the bushes near by. He looked up. Pitch dark. Rox heard it too. He jumped back into the boat and paddled backward as quickly as he could. He never told us what it was that he heard. We will never know.

The next day we ate the fish we caught. This one in the picture isn't mine.

Funny how easy it is to get up at 5am while on vacation. It's still dark out. The only noise is the sound of people slowly waking up. We took a boat out again to catch the sunrise at the open part of the river. Lord, the resident K-9 dog, hopped on the boat with us. Catching sunrises on the boat is his favorite activity, apparently. I don't remember the last time i saw a sunrise this beautiful. The water was quiet but full of life. We spotted black monkeys and their lil baby eating leaves, plenty of birds, and the gray and pink dolphins swimming about. Looks like it's going to be a hot, hot day.

And man a hot day it turns out to be. The usual stuff went on in the jungle trek: walking around, learning about plants for both poisonous and medicinal purposes, checking out small insects, etc. I'm a little surprise by how dry it was and how little animals and insects there were. This was nothing like costa rica or colombia. The plants were pretty big and wild tho. Did I mention it was hot as fuck. Oh my god.

More people arrived back at the lodge. It's looking a little bit more like a semi profitable business now. A bunch of sleazy Brazilian old men who constantly want me to take shots of cachaca + lime, an old Australian couple who do everything on their new ipad, a hot but not so friendly dutch couple, a quintessential LA couple (read: gear whores), and some other strays. A quick swim in the river washed out all the crap sweat from the jungle, ready just in time for fried piranhas lunch (tasted like pla slid). The sun is now too hot for anyone to do anything. And so we resorted to hammock time under the tree. Man I love me hammock time. Watching the river, a little breeze, napping away. We had great conversations with the Hungarians. Not much with anyone else. Later this afternoon it looks like another hike is on the schedule, this time with overnight in the lean-to contraption in the jungle.

3:00pm - rock n roll time. Mattheas doesn't really talk much for a guide. He is pensive, meticulous, skilled hunter, low in words, and also low on information. I'm still not sure where we are camping out and how long a hike. Turns out it's a boat ride. A long, eerie one through series of stretches of dark narrow waterways. Occasionally you can hear the howling of black monkeys echoing in the sky. They call them "howler monkeys" for the loud sound alright. Mere 3-4 monkeys can really turn the otherwise quiet hum of the forest into a grand concert. Eerie.

Campsite is... Wow. Um. Well. It's got some basic wood stump for sitting, a used fire pit space, a space half made for make-shift table, and one thatched roof structure. That's about it. At this point we are even deeper into river Juma. There is no longer signs of indigenous houses, river people, or any human for that matter. Just us. We learned how to hang our own hammocks - occasionally using the skills acquired in the hike this morning to make ropes, chop wood, etc.. I must say, using the giant machete to chop wood is surprisingly satisfying in a barbaric kind of way. This really is how I know i'm masculine. Other ladies opted to set up mozzie nettings and here I am chopping wood. Rox was equally macho. We're truly working the role of lesbian duo in the jungle. Not much else happens here at the camp. Mattheas grilled some ridiculously yum chicken, made rice, carved up spoons from nearby trees for the rice. We ate by the fire, chatted, and took off for snake hunting in the boat at night.

Lonely planet describes the Amazon experience as ambient. It really is the perfect word for it. The remoteness of this place, the primitive activities we do here, the lack of distraction .. something about this existence really gets into your head. Because not a fucking thing happens here, you start to think a lot about life's necessities .. what you own versus what you need. You think about your role in the society, the role of society in the world at large, and how that affects the environment. You think a lot about eco tourism and how much of it promotes environment awareness versus destroys it. I am in awe of Mattheas's ability to chop a slice of a tree bark and manifest a spoon in a few seconds. But if he has to do this for every doe-eyed tourist that comes through, how many trees would need to be killed for mere amusement? There is a limit in terms of the number of people who can come here. More than that we'll likely tip the balance of nature and end up destroying it. In some way I feel like I'm in a reversed zoo.

Like the night game drive in africa, I once again lean in favor of the night boating. The pitch black water reflects the night sky like a giant mirrored glass. You no longer know where the sky ends and the water begins. The vast expanse reminds you of how small and insignificant you are.. how small and insignificant our planet is .. a mote of dust suspended in sunbeam. Something about the sea of stars make me feel vulnerable. It reminds me of a beautiful childhood warmth buried deep in the cold unforgiving mess called growth. Slight fog covers just a few feet from the surface, enough to feel cool when the boat cuts through. Occasionally you will hear the howler monkey going at it, but apart from that and the silent hum of secedes, all you can hear is the engine from the boat and the movement of water it cuts through. Peaceful. Eerie. Never safe. No snakes to be found.

Back at the camp it's sleepy time. Except, well, we are in the fucking jungle. One would think the whole concept of sleeping under the stars by the river (granted it's amazon) would be uber romantic but reality hits home pretty hard with 40c temperature, 100% humidity, skin caked in what seems to be a permanent mixture of sweat, deet, and sunscreen. Not to mention bugs. Mmm. Bugs. Lots and lots of them.

10:30 pm - thank goodness for headphones and music. Best way to tune out that annoying mozzie hum.

12:00 am - still up. Shoulda picked a longer playlist. Whats that noise .. Sounds like wild boars. Sounds far. Wtf is that spotlight shining in my face? Oh.. The moon. Damn that's a big bright moon. Remind me again why I always pay to put myself in this situation every time.

2:55 am - dozed off for a bit. Turning inside a hammock isn't easy. Every time I turn I hear the dreadful sound of cotton tearing. Am I too heavy for the hammock? Or is that my pants.. What if I fall on the ground right now? I hope the giant hole in the mozzie net is still stuffed with toilet paper. Is it a bad idea to take my socks off? Can anything possibly be crawling under my hammock right now? Does my iPhone have enough battery? Omg if I turn it on to switch song the light will attract even more bugs. Omg.. Please don't have to pee.. Omg..

6:40 am - huh? Whoa. It's morning. Oh hi GIANT amazonian black ant crawling on my crotch. Were you sleeping with me here all night? Wow I feel like I haven't slept at all. I smell coffee. Mm. Let's hope no scorpion made a home in my boots.

From the hostel we took a 30m car, a 20m ferry, a 40m van, and a 30m long tail boat to get to the base camp. Midwayish at the ferry we stopped at the point where the 2 rivers meet - riva negro and riva amazonas. Different tectonic plate and sedimentation structure made the rivers different colors. They also flow in opposite directions. The lighter one (amazonas) is the longest river in the world, flowing from Peru. Though it has 2 other names in peru. It is also one of the only river that houses sea marine life like dolphins, sting rays, and bull sharks. Man I wanna see a bull shark. Where we were was about 90m deep. That's really damn deep.

 

Base camp is far. I shit you not. The long tail boat snaked it's way through miles of shallow mangroves. It's like we are headed into the heart of darkness. Matteas - our guide - said that by the time we return in a few days the water will be even shallower. September is the heart of the dry season. It is the best time to see animals because they congregate in the few water sources left around - main river arteries. Tho that also means there are less mangroves to boat through. August is a good time to come to experience both. The air smells sweet here. Not quite like Scotland or Africa. It's got it's own scent. Like a mixture of tropical river, red dirt, and wilderness. Wind is warm but full of fresh oxygen. Once again, I feel very much alive. Ever catch yourself in a moment of bliss while doing what you really love? Yea. I live for this.

 

Base camp is rad. There is a little boat hut thing where we eat and congregate. The dorm perches on the riverfront. Plenty of trees, open ground, and more hammocks than you can shake a stick at. There is no network here. The power comes from a tiny generator which is only on from 6am - 10pm. We went swimming in the river, ate the world's largest river fish (2m long!) in a super yum curry, and napped the afternoon away in hammocks. Later on it looks like we'll head out to do piranha fishing, dolphin spotting, and night time caiman spotting. I honestly thought we'd be roughing it a lot more. So far day one is pretty chill.

 

More mozzie report later. Heard gnarly stories about them. Afternoon piranhas fishing was quite a kick. We got a stick with tiny little rod and hook. We put chicken in as bait and boated around various bushy mangroves looking for piranhas. There were lots alright. Everyone except for rox and I got fish. We almost did but they fell off the bait midway. There are 2 kinds of piranhas in this water: the red and the white. The red one looks a bit meaner. I think they are also more poisonous. Not sure. Out of the 8 people we caught about 10 fish. They'll make an interesting lunch tomorrow.

I was so occupied with (not) fishing that I almost miss the beautiful sunset. The water looks much calmer in the evening. This whole time so far we only saw one other group of tourist in a boat. This place is very very big, very sparse, and very desolate.. there really is no one else around. The night sky - oh man. Speechless. Especially when we took the boat out for caiman spotting. There was no other light source. Just the sky. The stars reminds me so much of Africa. I miss it very dearly. It is the truth when I said I left a part of me in Africa. Here though ... Not only can you see all the stars, you can see all the reflection in the calm river water. I've never seen anything like it before. Beauty that can only be seen & felt but never described or immortalized. The long boat quietly cut through the night as we searched for caimans. Impressive skills on display by the guide who bare-hand caught 2 babies - a white one and a black one. This guy is the real life Steve Irwin. We learned about the animal for a bit then let it go. It's only 9pm. I'm dead tired. Tomorrow the day begins at 5:30am / we are catching sunrise somewhere cool. Exciting.

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A big and bustling port town that smells more like a giant dump than anything. There isn't much to see here, which probably explains why there aren't any tourists wandering about at all. I got some pretty bad racial jokes here and there along the streets. Not surprising, knowing how royally out of place I am. Meanwhile Rox totally blended in. She's got the unidentifiable look about her that makes her fit like a local everywhere. Pretty sweet gig for a half Persian half norwegian Americana girl.

We checked into this hotel that's supposedly a part of the package we bought last minute. The place reminds me of rooms in the flats of series of low income housing in the 3rd world. Small & super bare. I think about all the hostels I've ever been to, this one is pretty low on the totempole - rickety prison-like windows, view of the water tank, 3rd floor walk-up. The only saving grace may be the AC. We spent the evening walking around town mostly looking for fruit juices to try and pao de queijo to eat. Man those little pao are gooood. It's got a mochi-like texture with a hint of cheese. Crispy on the outside. Warm and chewy on the inside. Nom. After drinking enough quantity of unknown fruit juices, we visited the main attraction of Manaus - the impeccably ornate Teatro Amazonas. Stumbled upon this ridiculously beautiful interpretive dance performance about lost love in the amazon. Best of all, it was free! After the show we walked back part way to the hostel. Some of the streets were desolate by this time in the night - short of a few garbage ladies digging away and the occasional sound of motorbikes for hire. We eventually hopped in a cab on the last leg - a little safety measure if not for anything else. I am pretty impressed at Rox's tolerance for 3rd world style ghetto night streets. I guess having grown up in areas similar to this, I wasn't too concerned. I'm loving this real-time learning about a great new friend.

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