Into the Wild

Several steps must be followed in order to reach a little set of trails, screened rooms, a dining hall and a 40-km network of trails nested on the banks of the Tiputini, in the middle of nowhere in the Ecuadorian Amazon. So, bright and early Monday morning, we met at the university to take a bus to the Quito airport, where we cought a 30-minute flight to the town of Coca at 8:45 am. My carry-on bag contained (among other things) a bottle of deet, a juice box, a large tube of sunscreen, and two bottles of water, and my shoes had not been parted from my feet since I left my house. After setting down in Coca as the only plane in the airport, stepping out into Hot and Humid, and having our bags tossed on a bench in front of us through the walls of a windowless waiting area, we hopped on another bus for ten minutes and arrived at a dock. The men proceeded to stuff our luggage into the front of a little boat, we all climbed aboard under a canopy made from a tarp, turned our plastic chairs around to face the outside, ditched our life jackets, and we were off. We spent the next hour and a half “speeding” down the Rio Napo, passing a few oil operations and Kichwa in dug-out canoes, more often than not carrying loads of bananas and in the process of bailing out the tiny vessels. We eventually arrived and disembarked at the dock of an oil operation, after having put our life jackets back on as we came into sight. After passing through security equivalent to that of the airport, we lazed for an hour or so in the sweltering shade of a large sheet-metal structure under supervision of the oil company’s security before cramming into a safari-type truck with absolutely no legroom for a two-hour drive through the jungle down a network of oil roads. Finally, we stopped at a bridge, climbed down the bank to another waiting canopied boat, and traveled for the next two hours down the considerably smaller Rio Tiputini through pristine jungle to the Tiputini Biodiversity Station, our home for the next four nights.

During the mornings, those of us who were motivated left at 5:30 with our guide, carrying sack breakfasts, to climb a 150’ tower to a platform in the canopy of a 400-year-old emerging tree and proceeded to spend the next couple hours surrounded by bromeliads, looking out over the canopy to watch birds, monkeys, and the sunrise before heading back for class.

More often than not, class consisted of “hikes” through the jungle. However, there was so much to see and talk about that we rarely got very far. There were more species of trees than I could have ever imagined, many of which I saw only once. Vines hung from every available surface. Birds called constantly, but we rarely saw them due to dense foliage. Pitcher plants grew on a vine along the walkway by my cabin. We found a little white spider with brown stripes that appeared to be a flower; our guide told us he had seen three in 15 years. Strangler figs were one of the most common trees we saw; they grow down from where their seed is deposited on branches in the canopy, sending out tendrils around their host tree that grow into a kind of network of a trunk, sink roots into the ground, and eventually cut off the host tree’s nutrient supply, killing it and remaining as a hollow web once the original tree has decomposed. We found walking palms, which move up to several meters throughout their lives as they follow available light. And we found huge bullet ants, both in nests and patrolling the tree that the canopy tower sat in, whose stings are said to be as painful as being shot, with pain and fever lasting at least 12 hours and up to multiple days. Lucky we got the one that landed on my head one morning with a fat plunk brushed off before it made its way through my hair. We found tracks from giant armadillos, tapirs, pacas, and other mammals. Butterflies of all imaginable sizes and colors were omnipresent. We also climbed another tower to a network of walkways in the canopy, spending an hour or so walking between trees and being graced by a scarlet macaw that flew by about 30’ away. A few of the species we saw included: Scarlet macaws, Woolly Monkeys, Huatzins, Paradise Tanagers, Spangled Cotingas, Pacas, Saki Monkeys, Amazon Kingfishers, Dusky Titi Monkeys, Many-banded Aracaris, Dung Beetles, Piping Guans, Mealy Parrots, a Black Hawk-eagle, Caracaras, a Laughing Falcon, Red howler monkeys, Spectacled Caimans, Dwarf Caiman, and Blue-and-yellow Macaws. Google image the awesome.

Due to extreme heat and humidity, we resorted to swimming in the Tiputini River to cool off. The water of the Tiputini is warmer than most swimming pools. It is so thick with sediment that you can only see four inches into the water, and the current is deceptively strong. Therefore, while swimming at TBS, we contented ourselves with floating in circles around an eddy, inevitably crashing into a hidden tree limb less than a foot below the surface on every lap. We also contented ourselves with knowing we shared the river with piranhas, catfish, snakes, caimans, pink river dolphins, and a certain species of catfish that likes to lodge itself in urethras if it can follow a pee trail to its source. Therefore, we made a point of not peeing in the river.

Evenings included varying activities. One night consisted of a night float on the river, which turned up a paca, some herons, and several caimans. The next evening included a night walk in which we managed to find a molting cricket, several tree frogs, a wolf spider, a paca, walking sticks, a katydid, and a few tarantulas, among other stuff.

There is only electricity for 3.5 hours in the evening at TBS, cutting out at 9:30. If it’s a clear night, the stars shine brightly down, framed by the trees that rim the clearing where the cabins sit. Orion and the Pleades were out every night.

We also spent some time talking about the indigenous people of the Ecuadorian Amazon. Short and simple explaination: There are two “tribes,” the Worani, who live at higher elevations and hunt mainly meat, and the Kichwa, who live along rivers and hunt mostly fish. Since missionaries first contacted them in the 1950s and the oil companies have set up operations in the area, a corrupt relationship has formed between the cultures (especially with the Worani). As young Worani aspire to be like people from the city, they lose knowledge of traditional ways and instead seek women and alcohol. Unfortunately, they lack the enzyme to process alcohol, so one drink sends them over the edge. They have been given houses, cars, schools, guns, soccer fields, and free transportation by the oil companies, who are well-aware that the Worani can hinder their operations at any time they want. The Worani use this arrangement to sell wild meat every week at the market, and therefore hunt exponentially more peccaries, pacas, and monkeys than in the past. As more oil roads are constructed, the Worani move in and settle, clearing forest and overhunting. And although they want money, they don’t necessarily understand the meaning of a work day… or what to do with it once they have it.

However, humidity and depressing stories of overhunting aside, I managed to expand my biology vocabulary, which was sadly lacking, survive on oreos for four days in the middle of the jungle, and come out of it with only three bug bites to show. The Amazon is awesome.