Amazon Basin/Rurrenabaque, Bolivia

Saturday, January 8, 2005:

At 5:30 on the third and final day of the pampas trip we watched the sun rise from our boat. Anita remarked that I would be sick of sunrises by the end of my trip. I agreed. They happen every single day.

As we made our way down the river, past birds of paradise and the occassional pink dolphin, we could hear gutteral rasping choruses of howler monkeys on either side of the river. It didn`t sound like "howling" so much as a bunch of angry old men with colds trying to clear out their throats before complaining about something (their soup at the deli, for example). I guess angry-old-men- with-cold-monkeys is too cumbersome. I would have proposed "laryngitis monkeys" if anyone had asked my opinion. Sadly, as is sometimes the case with the naming of new species, solar systems and Taco Bell products, nobody consulted me.

After breakfast, Carlos wanted us to sit with him and make an assortment of carvings out of dried coconuts and other assorted crap he had brought along with him for this arts and crafts exercise. I slumped in a hammock with my book and refused to be bothered. Neal joined me in protest as the rest carved enthusiastically away at dead fruit.

We loaded the boat and sped away from the logde at 11 AM. Carlos promised that we would be back to our pick-up point within two hours, but got us there slightly earlier. As we loaded into the Toyota Landcruiser and sped away from the restaurant on the river, my breathing grew deeper and slower. It didn`t stink. I was never more thankful to be breathing fresh air.

Some 45 minutes later, we stopped at a small but murky brown lake that did not smell. Carlos handed out pieces of meat on hooks tied to string and we took turns tossing them into the water to "fish for piranha." I did this for about 1 minute before growing bored. It was 100 degrees outside and I didn`t want to bake in the sun to participate in this most touristy of all the exercises so far. There were about 25 other people with different groups there and, after 20 minutes, nobody had caught a thing other than maybe sun stroke.

Shortly after pulling away from the lake, a woman in her 30s hailed down our van. She began to talk very excitedly to the driver and the cook. They turned and spoke rapidly to Carlos. After a moment of heated discussion, the driver got out of the car and began to help the woman with something. Carlos told us that the woman was begging us to take her daughter, who had grown very ill, to the hospital in Reyes, an hour and a half down the road. If we had no objection, he wanted to do it ("Other people said no to them, but the Bolivian Rambo says yes!"). We all agreed immediately and soon the woman came to the car carrying her 10 or 11 year old daughter, who had grown so ill that she could not stand. A little boy of 4 or 5 sat in the back with his mother and the rest of us, while the girl sat in the front cabin between the cook and the driver. The father came as well, but climbed onto the roof because there was no other place for him.

We dropped the family in Reyes without incident and, after another hour, reached Rurre. I went back to Hostal Beni where I cranked the fan in the room to maximum and took a freezing cold shower.

That night the group met for dinner at La Perla de Rurre, the best restaurant in Rurrenabaque. We then went to a series of bars and discos to celebrate Steve`s birthday. Somewhere in the course of the night, Carlos disappeared with Claudia. This was no great surprise, but most of us never did get to give him a tip or thank him.