Circumspencing the Globe

Call me narrow-minded, but I draw the line at cross-species relationships.  The creature I encountered in the Amazon jungle clearly did not.  Welcome to the jungle.  Tena, specifically.  Tena, my present location, is known as the “green heart of the Amazon.”  Two rivers, Rios Tena and Pano, merge in the middle of this bipartite town, and three bridges join the two sides.  From my room I can see olive-colored Rio Puno flow by.

Below:  Around Tena–where the rivers merge, local art, the view from my room, bovine-themed jewelry stall.

When I woke up today, I still had a cold and didn´t feel well enough to do somethng as exhilarating as river rafting.  So, instead, I strolled over to Parque Amazonico La Isla.  A tropical forest covers the island that sits at the confluence of the town´s two rivers.  You gain access by way of a bamboo bridge.  I paid the lady on the town´s side, walked across the bridge and stepped onto the island.  No one was around.  No tourists.  No staff.  No one.

I came upon a variety of animals confined within fences–pigs, boa constrictors, parrots, jungle cats, an ostrich, a porcupine.  But much of the wildlife was not so confined.  I encountered giant insects–a butterfly as big as a bat, a grasshopper the size of an upright bar of soap and ants as long as matchsticks.  Like the insects, some of the birds roamed free–geese, turkeys and chickens.  To my chagrin, one other type of animal roamed free–monkeys.

As I walked alone along a quiet path that weaved through the knotty jungle, I discovered that, in fact, I was not alone.  A short distance away I saw a good-sized monkey standing in a clearing to the right.  He was spindly, had a very long tail, was black and gray in color and stood about as tall as a kitchen counter.  And he was watching me.

In order to acknowlege him and signal that I am a friend, I turned and faced him, took a few slow, confident steps in his direction and whistled and made clacking sounds with my mouth.  This proved to be a mistake.  Inadvertently, I must have sent him a salacious invitation.  Evidently, in monkey language I communicated, “Let´s get it on.”

He pranced over to me, bared his behind in my direction and peered suggestively at me over his shoulder.  Now, I don´t know much about monkey anatomy, so I don´t know if this is normal, but when he made that gesture his male member was in plain view, and that seemed to be the point.  I said, “Whoah, whoah, whoah.  Nice monkey, but that ain´t my bag, man.”  (I´m paraphrasing because I said this, of course, with whistles and clacks.)

Then I continued walking down the path.  Here in Latin America, males making advances aren´t known for being easily dissuaded.  Apparently, this is not limited to homo sapiens.  I stopped and turned around, and there was my suitor directly behind me.  He rotated around to flash his hind quarters at me again, gave me that coy look and then backed up into me and wrapped his long tail around my right leg.  “Hey!” I yelled.  He backed off.  “No!  No!” I said, as if scolding a dog.  He sat down and pouted. 

But as soon as I turned my back on him and began walking away, he followed and tried to sneak up close again.  So I turned and faced him to let him know I wasn´t afraid.  But I was afraid.  I kept thinking about that chimpanzee in captivity that went beserk a few years ago and mutilated a man, tearing off one of his testicles.  My trip is almost over and I´d like to return home with both of mine.  Besides, didn´t AIDS start with monkeys?  Maybe in a scenario much like this one?  And how exactly do you defend against a monkey anyway?  Judo chop?  Hammerfist to the groin?

Below:  Innocent-looking entrance to the Parque Amazonico La Isla; the sicko aggressor flashing a “come hither” look (appears much bigger in real life); in the jungle, the mighty jungle; just friends.

I´d take several steps and put some distance between us, then he´d scamper right up to me and stop beside me.  I switched directions a few times but he continued to pursue no matter the direction.  Finally, I decided to reason with him.  “Look, I´m sure you´re a very nice monkey.  But it just wouldn´t work out.  We´re too different, you and I.  And this isn´t a good time for me anyway.  I´m taking a break from dating right now.  Really, it´s not you.  It´s me.”  Actually, I don´t remember what I said, but I said it in a stern tone.  Then I braced myself for his reaction.  But he didn´t throw a fit.  And he didn´t throw feces.  I continued walking, and this time he didn´t follow.

At least not visibly.  As I passed trees, some of them shook.  And at one point, a cluster of palm branches came crashing to the ground onto the path a step or two from me.  I guess he doesn´t take rejection well.  Finally, to my deep relief, I saw two people not far from me.  I approached them quickly, ascertained that they spoke English, and then unloaded my tale of sexual harassment.  (It´s good to tell someone.)  As the afternoon went on, I came across other people and didn´t feel so alone and vulnerable.  And I never saw the primate predator again.

I met an employee and told him, as best I could with my limited Spanish, about the tenacious monkey who violated me.  He just laughed.  I walked with him for a while.  When we came upon some small, shy monkeys observing us from the trees, he coaxed two of them onto his shoulders.  They must have figured they now had carte blanche on human shoulders, because then they pounced onto mine.  This I didn´t mind a bit, actually.  It was completely platonic.  But I was hoping the rapist monkey wasn´t hiding in the trees watching this.  If so, he was liable to go into a jealous rage.  And that definitely would not be good for my testicles.

In the end, I made it off the island in one piece.  And, you know, in retrospect the entire incident was really quite flattering.  I mean, who can blame the beast?  He took his shot.  And when ya got it, ya got it.  It looks like I still got it, folks.  Even with a cold.

Tags: 1, Ecuador, South America, Tena

This entry was posted on Saturday, February 23rd, 2008 at 7:57 pm and is filed under 1. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.