A return of a different sort

In truth the final days of my trip in South America were fairly non eventful. Their was saying goodbye to B, going to a banjo performance, and watching movies in Lima. I had tearful goodbyes with my laundry ladies, and generally felt like I had been so blessed on this trip.

Within no time, I was back at Lima International Airport waiting for my one o’clock am flight back to Canada. While it was hard to say goodbye to Peru and to my travels, I was more excited about heading home. Seeing the faces I love so much and hugging them all. I think truly there is no greater adventure, than returning home after a long period of time.

I can say that this trip changed me. In some small ways and in others more profound. Perhaps I haven’t even realized all the incredible ways that this trip has enriched my life. All I know is that I come home surer of myself than I ever was. Ready to take on life's challenges in a different way. And with a new perspective. I have seen poverty, I have seen kindness, I have seen nature in ways I never thought possible. I have been incredibly lucky.

From the moment my plane touched down, I both yelled for joy and wept. It was such a feeling to know I survived the past nine months and even more to know that I was about to share that time with my family and friends. Even if I may have weirded out my fellow passengers, it never felt so good to be home. To be back where I was brought up.

It has been 12 days since I got home. I have seen my family and most of my friends by this point. I have seen the ways in which Canada has changed and the ways in which it is still the same.

I still don’t know how my life goes from here. I don’t know what other adventures my future holds. I just know that I have learned some great lessons about life and especially what I want out of it. All I can say to you is that life is too short for you to be ridiculous. Stop telling yourself the reasons you can’t live your life the way you want it. Stop letting yourself prevent yourself from trying. Go do something that scares you, because you will soon find out that it isn’t so scary after all. And who knows, you might actually grow from the whole experience.

So travel. See the world. Just do something.

Memories from the Amazon

Feeding a freshwater manatee

River life in Nauta, Peru

Fruit from the Amazon. It was delicious, albeit sticky.

Injured porcupine. We think it was paralyzed after falling from a tree. Poor thing.

Welcome to the Jungle

Iquitos is not the most glorious looking city. It has an edgy, dirty-ness to it. And I have never been stared at, whistled at, or whispered to in my life. In short, this is a mans world. But the reason I am here is it is often the jumping off point for jungle treks into the Amazon. And thus that is why I was here.

I had booked my flight about the first week I arrived in Peru and finally decided on a company to take me into the Amazon. Aptly named, Amazon Explorer. And while my trip could easily be called “Amazon Lite” it was exactly what I needed. They were some of the three most interesting days of my life.

We departed from Iquitos for the next city, Nauta to catch our boat to Pacaya Samiria Reserve. With me on this trip would be the following characters M & S, a couple of Iranian heritage who now lived in America; our Coordinator, B, who watched over us like we were toddlers; Frank, our 17 year old boat driver; and Herman, our local guide who showed us a wide range of animals. Never did I think in the span of three days I would see Howler Monkeys (again), river dolphins (pink and grey), a three-toed sloth, a caiman (alligator), frogs, dogs, and more.

My first night, I slept on a tree platform which hovered over the Rio Pucate. Literally being eaten away by termites as I slept. Perhaps the best thing about the entire experience was having to climb my way up to the platform. While Herman is nimble, I will admit my skinny jeans were a detriment to my climbing ability. Herman had to climb up the ladder to provide me an extra boost at one point. It was probably the single most terrifying thing I have done on this entire trip. Falling down would have resulted in me hitting another tree, the boat, Herman, and landing in the water. Some serious business.

But all in all, it was also the single greatest moment on my trip. Being able to sleep outside in a tree house IN THE FREAKING AMAZON was one of the highlights of my life. Listening to the jungle’s lullaby was sheer magic. I was so grateful to share my experience with B. I have never met a woman so inspiring to me. In every way, shape and form, I respected her. Her commitment to living a different sort of life. Her stories of her other tours in Africa and in the Amazon here in Peru. And even her strength of character and integrity, blew me out of the water. She was definitely the reason I had such a fantastic trip. Both with her dedication to providing us an incredible experience as well as being such an incredible person.

The next day was our real day in the “jungle” itself. We made our way down the river to find a camping spot that was now recently “dry”, since the river subsided. We attempted to fish for pirana, while the camp was set up. But Herman was the only successful one in catching a fish, and that was just our bait fish. It is still impressive to think of him looking at that murky brown water for the slight signs that would signal to him that a fish was underneath the surface before launching his harpoon in the fishes direction. And when he pulled back the harpoon, stuck inside was a little fish flapping for life.

That night we had our long jungle trek, through mud and thick jungle. I sincerely have no idea how people unaccustomed to the jungle would find their way. It is not only that the mud is oppressive, but that the trees are so close and the vines are all around. I was incredibly grateful to have Herman leading the way. The only sad part about this particular jungle trek was seeing a porcupine which we suspect had fallen from a tree (where porcupines live down in the Amazon). This particular animal had fallen out of a tree, and we think broke its back. When we came to inspect him closer, you could see that only the frount part of his body would raise the quills in its defense. The rest laid dormant, along with the hind legs.

Their was some disagreement between B and Herman on what to do. Should we leave it or put it out of its misery. In the end, we left it. But not all of us were happy with that decision. The truth was, the animal was suffering. And you could see it in its eyes. Strange though. You could get so close as to touch its hind legs and nose. Something I guarantee no wild animal would ever let you do otherwise. And I never thought I would once again be in a position where I had to watch an animal die due to falling out of a tree.

Later on that same trip, we found ourselves navigating a “river” of mud on a make-shift bridge. Which looked more like something Indiana Jones would have to do, if the river was really small and was edited due to the sheer mediocrity of badassery. But we finished off, right, like something out of Steve Irwin’s program.

We walked to this lake just as the sun was setting. Herman asked us if we wanted to wait until dark in hopes of seeing and catching an alligator. We said yes. While we waited S taught us the proper way to do a cross fit squat. This is in fact the proper way to pass 30-45 minutes.

While Herman used his alligator call, we all waited with bated breath. And finally he waved for us to come closer and at this point we were able to see the red eyes peering out from a floating log. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. But later, as we were making our way back to camp, Herman said he would “be right back” he went alligator hunting once more.

This time he was lucky. Walking back to us, he held a 1.3 meter nearly adult alligator. With his hands closing the mouth firmly, Herman was walking towards us with this alligators belly first. It was such a crazy thing to see. It looked more like a tiled bathroom floor. And before we could get a better look, B decided to tickle the animal. The ensuing squirming meant that Herman lost his grip. WIthin miliseconds a scream was issued and all of us jumped back. Herman tried to stop the thing from returning to the water, and it attempted to fight back by biting his foot. Luckily Herman’s boots took the brunt of the force, but still. It was an incredible 30 seconds.

Back at the camp, I had just enough time to freak out over a small cricket jumping around in my mosquito net before falling into a blissful sleep.

The next morning, we paddled our way down the river and attempted to spot some monkeys, to which we were stunningly successful. It was just so magical to paddle down the river and listen to the Howlers in the distance, or to see the capuchins running away from the sound of our arrival. Even seeing the three-toed sloth eating in the tree was about the most impressive thing I have ever witnessed.

Before no time we were saying goodbye to Herman and his wife. Taking final photos of us in Buenos Aires and climbing onto the boat to take us back to civilization.

If you ever get the chance to see the jungle, do not hesitate. It is some of the most spectacular scenery in the world.

Circus acts and Indian food

My arrival back in Lima was rather uneventful, though it was a fun few days. First I had to wait in some extremely impressive lines to go through customs. But at least this time I had a friend to talk to. A woman who stayed at Camping Minihoa with me. And she being the more organized of the two of us, she had a taxi waiting for her as well as a reservation lined up at the next hostel. Unlike me who had a name of a guy and thoughts to return to the same hostel as last time (Flying Dog).

Instead I opted to share taxi costs and just ended up going to where she was going. This turned out to be one of the best things to do. While far from my cinema and my laundry ladies, it was in a beautiful part of Miraflores and the hostel staff was absolutely incredible. By far, I think it is my favourite hostel on this entire trip.

My original room was supposed to be with these four Indian guys, but at nearly midnight one of the guys was snoring so badly it sounded like his lungs were flapping. I decided to ask if their was another room available, which it turned out their sort of was and sort of wasn’t. The staff room had an extra bed apparently, so that is where I would go. Perhaps the funniest part, other than admiring the loudness of the snoring, was when the receptionist said to me “don’t be Canadian nice, you can sleep in the staff room if you want.” Apparently, Canadians, we have a reputation.

The next morning I found myself hauling all my laundry to the same laundry and dry cleaning shop I went to last time. With my infamous backpack.

Otherwise, I did what I have always seemingly done in Lima. I watched movies. I ate food. And I even read a little.