We ventured back to the lodge to a serving of fried eggs, toast, fish fillets, those great home made biscuits that were made from cacva, a root made into flour. We will talk more about cacva later today. We also were treated to a delicious guava paste like jelly. I spread that on the biscuits with butter, I ate about a half dozen of those biscuits. Im not being a pig, the biscuits are made to the size of a silver dollar.
After breakfast we head down river for about an hour. After about 30 minutes the river becomes narrower and less signs of huts/house boats. Now it is pouring down the rain. When it rains here its a monsoon, but usually last only 15-30 minutes. So I came prepared and get out my Bass Pro Shop poncho, thanks Bronce, my son, for letting me take this with me. Magro has tells me that we are going to visit one of the few indigenous villages still left in the area. He tells me that most of the uncivilized tribes have ventured deeper in the jungles due to development. Some tribes still have not seen or experienced civilization. Most of those tribes do not live on the Amazon or any of the large main rivers that lead to the main Amazon River in Manaus. Most are found deep down tributaries farther west in Brazil and Peru.
We final dock at a small inlet and notice a few huts off of the shore. Magro knows of a family that doesn't mind having visitors, so we head in the direction of one of the larger huts. Magro says this family has 16 children, ranging from 3 to 38. Also the mother is considered the artist of the tribe. There are no doors to knock on so Magro shouts out a greeting. We wait outside the entrance until we hear a grizzled female voice that seems to welcome us inside. The hut has a main porch that is long and consists of several stools and chairs made of some type of local wood and vines. These would look great on my back deck at home. Magro says this is where visitors are expected to sit while on a visit. I notice a number of art renderings of the jungle, animals and what seems to be local people. Also on the long porch hangs jewelry, blow tubes/darts, and some very detailed wooden sculptures.
We meet the mother who is followed closely by her 3 year old son. Magro and her chat for a few minutes while he explains who I am. The mother who simply goes by Mae Terra, which Magro translates as meaning Mother Earth, has been staring at me for quite some time. I actually find her eyes to be a very infectious violet and I make a point to not look away from her eye contact. After a a few minutes Magro seems surprised for some reason. He has told me that she has said I have very trusting eyes and she invites us behind the beaded curtains that separates the porch from the living area. The room is just one large area, no "windows", that has a very large thatched eave-like hanging roof. I assume this is to protect them from blowing rain and wind. I notice in the back far right corner there is an area about 4x6 feet, that sets up about 3-4 feet off the floor. On top of this structure there is a fire going with a metal pot on a grill. Magro tells me they use charcoal for burning because using wood is dangerous and could catch the wood home on fire. The charcoal is made from Brazil Nut trees because it burns the longest. Standing at the "stove" is a very attractive young girl about 12-13 years old with black as coal hair and eyes to match. Her skin, like the others in the household, is very dark brown. I haven't spoken or asked the family any questions or taken any pictures, though they can see the camera around my neck. Magro had told me earlier not to take any pictures or ask any questions until Mother Earth gave the go ahead. When she sees me hanging around the stove, she tells Magro to tell me it's okay to take pictures. I look at her for her direct approval and she smiles and nods okay.
From that point on I felt part of the family. She answers my questions via Magro, that her daughter's name is Meira, and she is cooking a pot of beans. The mother looks down at my hands and tells Magro something and they both laugh. Seems the mother has given permission for me to marry her daughter. Some joke. About this time a young man, the mother's son comes into the home. He is about 15-16 years old, and as with his sister, has very dark features. I forgot to get his name. He seems very friendly. He takes us near the original entrance where, what looks like a make shift dart board, is hanging on the wall. Next to the board are two blow guns with darts. Seems a competition is in order. The blow guns are made of a hollowed out piece of wood that resembles bamboo. But it actual is made from the stalk of a cacva plant. More on that later. The darts are straight pieces of the same wood but thinner. The ends of the dart are very sharp, made from thorns off bushes. The other end is very beautifully decorated with dyed chicken feathers. There is to be a competition between Magro and myself. The winner is to get a free piece of hand jewelry. Magro goes first, he hits the makeshift dart board, but not the red center, about the size of a half dollar piece. Im next, okay line up...footth (thats my own sound version). I missed the target completely and it sticks into one of Mother Natures art pieces. Everyone has a chuckle. The young man comes over to try and help my cause. He points to a notch at the end of the blowgun and I gather this is a sight point. Also he says, via Magro, that I blow too hard. He imitates a sort of spitting technique. Okay think I got this. Line up, aim via the notch and pphith (my spittting/blowing sound). I hit the target, just right and below the red center. Last one, the young man tells me to try and relax, I think. Okay, take a deep breath, line up the notch, spitting action...pphith. I barely hit the red spot, but they declare me the winner. I love winning... I get to chose my prize and decide to take a children's bracelet for one one of my lucky granddaughters.
Next, the young man takes us outside, where the rain has stopped, to another hut like structure. This has no walls or windows, but the roof hangs down low to the ground. I assume again to keep rain and wind out. This is a flour mill. The family grows and mills flour for themselves and to sell to other tribe members. The product is a brown root that is covered with a very hard shell. It grows underground and is attached above ground to a very tall slender bamboo type stalk. These were the stalks that made up the blowguns and dart shafts. The roots are harvested when the stalk is about 8-10 ft high. Most stalks bear about 1-3 root balls, called cacva. I did find out that the young man is responsible for harvesting and milling the roots. The root balls are collected and are boiled for two days at the mill. This is done to separate the shell from the white/cream colored cacva. The cacva is then dried and is chopped up into very fine pieces, about the size of rice pellets. The pellets are then put into a very large wok looking pan, about 6 ft in diameter. The the final product is dried again and put into burlap bags. This is the primary starch used by most indigenous tribes in the area, but also used in the main cites in Brazil. We take a walk out to the field where the cacva grows and see hundreds of stalks of various sizes. The young man tells me to pick a stalk to pull up. So, I feel like King Arthur pulling the sword from the stone. The roots are very deep in the ground so they are very hard to pull up. it took me two tries the pull the roots up. When I did there were 4 root balls on the end. Magro says it is very unusual to find more than 3 root balls on a stalk. He compares it to finding a four-leaf clover, and says the tribes see this as good luck as well. Magro says the young man says the most he has ever seen was a root with 6 balls at the end. Hope he had very good luck that day.
We go back to the main hut, where we see Mother Nature using a thin carving knife on a small spool like piece of wood about three inches high. She shows it to me and I was astonished that it was the spitting image of me. Complete with hat, glasses and camera around my neck. At first I thought she was going to give it to me, but Magro says she keeps them for herself. Apparently, when visitors come, she carves an image of them. She shows me this carved out canoe and it already has about 6 figurines already aboard. She places mine next to a figurine that looks like an asian with a big toothy smile. on the other side of me is a grumpy looking guy. She says it was a German visitor that did not smile. I try to offer to buy it but this is her keepsake. Magro says she has about 20 of these boats with these figurines in them. boy, would I like to have one of these boats.
Its time to leave, we take a few pictures and videos. I also ask if I could purchase some of her jewelry. I pick out several dangling feather ear rings and necklaces, all one of a kind of course. As we are leaving, Mother Nature comes up and gives me three kisses on each cheek, apparently a custom. We wave good-bye but not until Magro and Mother Nature have one more laugh at my expense. I noticed that the young girl turns in embarrassment as they are speaking. Mother Nature asks if Im taking my bride to be with me. I must admit it made me laugh as well. We get in our weathered canoe to head back to the lodge for my final lunch.
We take our time going back and take a few side trips down tributaries. It wasn't to find anything in particular, just a slow leisurely cruise to take in the beauty and the sounds of the jungle. We did come across an area that had hundreds of white egrets. They were feeding on small fish that looked like minnows. Magro says they are like krill, the small creatures that whales eat. He says the dolphins in the area get together and corral these small creatures, like sheep dogs corralling sheep. The dolphins back them into a small space where it will be easier for them to eat at one "sitting". The egrets know what they are doing and join in on the party. I tried to get a few close pictures, but like most of the time animals are very hard to photograph. I did a couple of still shots of the egrets in flight. I hope they turn out.
We are back at the lodge and my final meal. Today I believe we are eating leftovers but made into other dishes. The food that Ive had here has been always delicious. I find I use a lot of a homemade sauce that they have in an old Pepsi bottle. I just cant get enough of it. I asked Magro of its contents: spicy peppers found locally, coconut, pineapple, sugar, limes and a few more items he was not sure. Oh one other ingredient, is called cachaca. It is fermented sugar cane, that they distill at the lodge...in other words local moonshine. No wonder I cant get enough of it. The meal is a thick chicken soup, salad, pasta (made from the cacva root), beans and...piranha. yep, the ones that we caught. The are not a very meaty dish. They have far more bones that a normal fish. The local catch piranhas and grind and dry them as a cure for impotency.
As Im having lunch, a boat comes up to the docking area. Stephana, with her typical Catholic School plaid outfit, is running down to meet the boat. Its the school boat. I run down to get a few pictures. I think I may have embarrassed her, the ugly American taking pictures. There were about 10 kids on the boat, captained by a very matronly looking lady, maybe one of the nuns. the kids were great, waving back at me as I filmed. All except one, Meira, the young girl from the village earlier, my future wife. Stephana and her apparently go to the same school, as I may have mentioned before. No sooner did Stephana jump on the boat, the "captain" skillfully turned the boat around and headed out to pick up the next child.
After lunch, I headed back to my hut to pack and my last afternoon siesta. Sure going to miss my hammock nap. After I woke up to a strange sound in the jungle, I took my second shower of the day. As I was finishing I looked down and I was staring at a small green/blue iguana, about 4-6 inches long. The shower sets lower than the hut, and has wood blanks for walls, but they have about a half inch crack between each board from floor to ceiling. It seems this is the way the shower drains out the water. Anyway, this creature and I are having a "stare-down". Okay, another jungle contest. After about 2-3 minutes the iguana blinks and takes off between the boards on the wall. I won again. see you later my little green friend. a couple other observations about my room. The mosquito netting was an issue because i kept getting tangles up in it at night. Also, there are shelving all along the walls about 3 feet from the floor. I found from Magro earlier the first day, that I was to keep all my good, shoes, clothes, back packs off the floor. Also to keep them closed at all times. Seems little creatures like crawling into dark warm places. Well everyday I was to put on my shoes, I would take them outside and clack them against the porch, just in case a small friend decide to take up residence.
All packed and ready to go, but with mixed feelings. I wish I would have panned to stay a week instead of a few days.
I had not seen Ceci all day. He apparently has another boat that he contracts out for river cruise in Manaus, so I wouldn't see him again. The plan was for Ceci's wife, Magro and I to take a river "bus" to the river station where I we first took a boat to come to the lodge. Upstream I noticed a boat headed our way, it was flying across the water. The captain threw the boat in reverse and skillfully backed the "bus" into the small space at the dock. When I first noticed the wild way the boat was being handled I figured it was some local young man showing off his skills. To my astonishment, it was a beer bellied grey haired woman about 60-70. Its hard to tell ages here because people are so worn by the sun and the environment. No sooner had we sat down on the comfortable padded seats, our captain swerved the boat around and head down river. Now this boat had some speed to it, and our grandmotherly looking captain was racing down the river swerving around bends and cutting through trees in the river. She seemed adept to every twist, turn and physical boundaries of the river. She would make any Mississippi boat captain proud. But, there apparently are some "rules or courtesies on the river". Every time we would approach a houseboat along the shore or a non-moving boat (fisherman) she would slam the boat down and creep along until she had passed the stationary structures. This was to keep the wave effects of the speeding boat from rock these boats. Magro tells me sometimes houseboat neighbors would get angry at each other for some reason. One of them would take a speed boat and speed close to one of the houseboats, which would in affect caused the houseboat to bounce around throwing furniture and people around inside.
Some information on the houseboats. People live on these because of the river's depth is always changing, especially during the rainy season (Jan-June). The houseboats are secured by chains and ropes and are adjusted as the water changes. This happens more often during the rainy season. Also many local "general stores" are located on houseboats because its convenient fro people just to moor up to a houseboat than it is to get out and have to walk. We came across a series or houseboats a few days ago, about six. They were a general store, hardware store, fruit/vegetable market, a "business store" (law and business advice), and a bar. I guess you need somewhere to socialize over a calpirinha. Other structures on the river are on stilts, not just for the flooding times, but to keep "creatures" out of your home. I think I mentioned this before, but all homes are tightly shut at night due to mosquito swarming, so I guess there is no "night-life on the Amazon.
I also was curious about the homes and the river...you don't see any trash or garbage. I never saw a piece of paper, plastic or glass bottle, any trash of any kind around the homes or in the river. What I found out from Ceci, who again, has had family live in the Juma River area for generation, is that locals are very cognizant of the environment. They feel it disrespectful to do anything to the environment to hurt it. They depend on the river for existence. Can you imagine people in the rest of the world feeling this way. I also found this the case in Manaus, which is the main city in the Amazonas. Most third world large cites, but even some in the US, are big trash heaps. Not here. The streets may look worn , but not trashed out. I remember this was the case in Australia as well. You would never see any trash on the streets or around homes. It would not be unusual in Melbourne, where I lived, to see paper or a cup lying on the street and someone would simply pick it up and put it in a trash bin or just stick it in their pocket.
Back to the boat and our senior citizen Speedboat Annie. We arrived at the river station in half the time than on the way out a few days ago. The captain skillfully maneuvered the 15 passenger boat to the dock. The three of us unloaded our gear and waited for our next ride. I had no idea what that would happen next.
Fifteen minutes later, and about a gallon of sweat lost, up drives this VW modified bus. This vehicle has at least 10-12 large dents in its body and as many looking scrapes. This was our transportation back along this bumpy and slippery road to the Amazon River crossing back to Manaus. Well there were 14 of us but only seating for 12. Didn't matter. So all the "small" people crunched up in the back. Magro and I were the two biggest people so we got to sit in the front. As I would soon find out, I would have been better served crunched up in the back. The driver was an interesting character. He was as skinny as a rail, grey bushy hair and I would say in his 60's, but who knows. But what was unusual about this guy, is that he always had a mellow smile on his face. He looked as if he had too many hits from his marajuana pipe or he new the joke and wasn't going to let us in on it. We all climb aboard and off we go. Like as it was on the way in, the road had pot holes that looked like swimming pools and mud so slippery I thought a few times we would slip into a ditch. The smiley guy would even smile broader each time we escaped a treacherous part of the road. Im having a heart attack and this guy is on a joy ride. After about the first 45 minutes of this I look in the back seat at our cramped companions...most of them are asleep...really? Finally we hit a main paved highway and we just might make it to the port city, Caneiro for our crossing of the Amazon to Manaus.
We finally make it to the port and its everyone out. Mr. Smiley helps us get our gear out, still smiling, and gives me a wink. Yeah buddy you really had me crapping my pants along the way. The port is filled with vendors selling about anything you could think of: vegetables, fruit, lots of fish, raw hanging meat (this sight could turn anyone into a vegetarian), tires, hardware, jewelry and this was only the main row to about 3-4 other rows. I was feeling pretty hungry along the back roads, but after seeing this display, I quickly lost my appetite. So, I dig into my pack and find an old granola bar at the bottom. Im not sure how long its been in there.
Magro negotiated the taxi boat fare of about $50BR, about $22US, for the three of us. We were the only ones on the boat, so business across the Amazon today must have been slow. The river was a lot more rocking with waves. So 4 hours on a speed boat and bumpy roads, so why should the day change. This may have been due to at least 12 huge empty oil tankers moving up the Amazon to the refinery on the Manaus coast. They were lined up in the middle of the river waiting their turn to fill up at the refinery. I could see the refinery and it seemed very busy with at least 6 gas release fires that were burning. But, being downwind I expected the typical refinery burn off smell, like the nasty stuff that is extracted into the air in west Tulsa. Nada. Magro was telling me that the refineries have strict rules for what is released in the air. Apparently there are "scrubbers" that basically filter the toxic material before being released. Refineries being environmentally responsible citizens? What a concept.
We arrive at the Manaus boat launch, where we had left a few days ago. We were met by the other owner of the tour group, Pedro, and his young lady "go-fer". We exchanged pleasantries and he ask me about the trip. Of course I couldn't say enough about the wonderful people that cared for me and especially my guide, Magro. I hope him and I stay in contact. He made a point to give me some of the best experiences of my life. Margo and I had talked earlier and he wants to have his own tour business some day. I helped him a bit about financing, budgeting, websites, advertising, etc. He took it all in. He also wants to improve his english skills, because he says not enough of the tour operators understand or can even speak English. He was right about that because I could barely understand what two two owners of the tour group. He'll do it.
We arrived to the Holiday Inn and after checking in we sat down to pay the bill. Originally, I had thought the entire package would be about $900US, but found out it was $900BR. Wow, so for this total experience it cost me about $360US. I would have paid the $900 US, it was worth it. Pedro told me about an Olympic Tour package he was putting together. The Olympics will be in Rio in 2 years. I told him to send it to me. I just might do it, so I can come back to the Amazon Basin.
Im famished. I go down to the restaurant again, Im too tired to go out. I look at he menu, I think Ill by pass anything that looks like fish. Aha, cheeseburger deluxe and fritas (fries). Make that two. I got back to the room and opened the dirty clothes bag from my trip. I was overwhelmed by the smell. So looks like my evening will be hand washing this mess. I climbed in the shower, found the dawn I had bought with me, before I realized it was dish detergent. Oh well soap is soap. So I spent an hour standing in the shower washing, rinsing clothes as well as myself. You never think about the simple things in life and appeciate them, but a hot shower is one of them now.
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