Megann's Blog: Peru (day six)

The magnificent travels of Megann phillips: a journal

Day 06 in Peru

March 20, 2013

Today's "oh"s and "ah"s

Today has been mostly dedicated to transporting ourselves to another part of Peru. We've left Cusco and arrived instead in the low, wet flatlands of the Amazon River Basin. By taxi, by plane, by bus, by boat, and by foot, we found ourselves at the most beautiful ecolodge in the Peruvian rainforest. Although I miss our lovely room in historic Cusco, our room here is like nothing I've ever seen.

There are no doors-- only curtains separating our humble abode from the open hallway and our neighbors. One wall of the room is absent-- completely open to the jungle just outside, we share our space with the noises and the creatures of the Amazon. I found a hand-sized lizard in our bathroom. The bugs are as thick "inside" as they are outside, and my only protection from them at night is a giant net hung above my bed. Instead of electricity, we were supplied with environmentally friendly all-natural Brazil Nut soap and shampoo. It is altogether charming.

My first hike in the Amazon Rainforest

Almost immediately after we arrived at the ecolodge, we went out on our first hike in the jungle. Our guide led us along a trail at the end if which we climbed a sky-scraping tower. After dragging my tired legs up what seemed like and endless flight of twisting stairs, I reached the lookout point at the very top. It was amazing, I could see over the tops of the trees for miles and miles, I could see the Rio Madre de Dios wind off into the distance, and two macaws fly, squawking loudly together, to some unknown hideaway. I could see dark gray rain clouds in the distance.

By the time I climbed back down the stairs to the base of the tower and took a photo of the sign which labeled it, the rainstorm hit us. It was just like the synthesized storms in The Rainforest Cafe (minus the elephants, plus actual rain); the noises of the jungle stopped, and all of a sudden, I was consumed by the sound of rain hitting the trees and pounding my skin. When I finally arrived back at the lodge after walking as quickly as I could through the rest of the rainforest trail, I was soaked to the bones. Fortunately, the rain was was warm, and the temperature was warmer. I was hardly cold!

Taking a squat... Or should I say a stand?

On the lengthy bus ride to the ecolodge, we passed what seemed to be a good mile of land filled with a hastily built shanty town. Sturdy sticks and branches were tied together in the rough shapes of small houses or tents. Thrown over the top of the wooden frames were blue tarps, sometimes topped with palm fronds to help minimize heat retention. Strangely, all of these shanty huts supported a flag pole, at the tip of which flew a Peruvian flag (homemade or not).

A guide informed us that these so-called homes belonged to squatters who legally owned homes in other areas locally. The land on which they constructed their shanty town officially belonged to the army, but when news surfaced that the army planned to develop the land, the locals moved in to protect their forest and the countless species that call it home. The consensus (with which I whole-heatedly agree) is that this is all justified and good.

A horror story

The bathroom in the Cusco National Airport was the sight of one of the worst experiences of my life. After eating at the airport cafeteria, I went to the restroom in dire need of (ahem... Well, know...). Upon entering a dirty wooden stall and closing the door behind me, I observed the seat to be missing from the toilet; I had to relieve myself while squatting. I then turned to my left and reached for the toilet paper... Then I turned to my right... Then I spun around in a desperate circle. The toilet paper for both stalls in the women's lavatory hung on the outside wall. I was forced to pull up my pants (without wiping myself), walk to the toilet paper dispenser and wrap my right hand in toilet paper, then re-enter my stall. I made sure to time my expedition across the restroom perfectly, in order to assure that no one witnessed my walk if shame.

I love this picture that I took of the tarp village through my rainy bus window; it reminds me of a watercolor painting.

We disembarked the bus, only to board a boat. The river (La Madre de Dios) was beautiful, even in the rain.

Luckily, our boat was covered with a roof... but the rain still poured
through the unprotected in-between.

Ah... but then the sun shone again!

See the tree off to the right, with the multiple trunks? It's called a
Walking Tree, because it is able to transport itself to areas of purer
sunlight (very, very slowly).