South to the Jungle

 

Over slept Monda - up at 6:45. A quick cistern shower. 15 minute breakfast of fruit, coffee, some sort of juice, and egg cheese sandwich.

Hey- Who authorized the chicken to fly into my lunch Plate??

Here is a link to the front harbor at sunrise:

http://s76.photobucket.com/albums/j6/paulbaker8/?action=view&current=adcsunrisr.flv

I Met Claudio and Lionel, my French nomadic hippie guide. We packed up and headed to the boat. The river front was nothing like the weekend. Not a person to be seen. The boat Captain Cuicuera motored over slowly to his brother's big boat. The one pictured in yesterday’s blog. The boat had his and hers toilet in the front. And other than a generator for power it was “unfinished” wide open floor space. It was very spartan.

If you pretended you were camping it would be great if you brought air mattress and fans. Still thinking next year for $ 300/ day he will feed you and motor you all day long. You call the shots. Day trips all over this place for beans.

We turned south at 8:30 to head the “forest“. The river was in its quiet glory. Two hour run in water like glass. The river front had about four villages of about 50 -100 folks along the way. Sporadic fisherman casting for shrimp in the canoes.

We arrived at the village of Jamaraque (Ja-mar-a–quee) in the Tapajos National Forest. The first thing I asked was National Forest – Village /Homes? This does not compute. It seems the Forest is a very new setup and the village was “grandfathered” to stay. With the rule of no new folks could come. The locals said hey National Forest it will be nice forever and the “Tapajos Land Rush” ensued.

Jamaraque has 25 families with around 100 folks. Up to six years ago they had no electricity. They brought a village generator in for night time light bulk use only in 2002.

All the homes were palm thatch roofed with one to two room boarded walls. Three TV’s all together in the village but only one with Sat Dish. One cell phone only if you plug into a roof mounted antenna. The average household income was $ 10/day. Think that gives you the picture.

Her is a link to a video of town center:

http://s76.photobucket.com/albums/j6/paulbaker8/?action=view&current=jarguaribrazil.flv

We met up with our forest guide, Mr. Machete. As we headed into the forest on a 6 foot wide path I thought the machete was all for show. Lionel was new to the forest so he was asking a lot of questions. “How long was the trek?” Mr. Machete responded about two hours. Lionel asked how far in Kilometers? “Machete responded "How long is a kilometer?" We were getting back to the basics here. As we went through the forest we must have stopped at twenty different trees. I ate 3 forest fruits, 2 forest nuts, 1 medicinal tree sap, and one red cosmetic berry dye cheek makeup. In some parts he was hacking away with his machete to get us through. Mr. Machete might not be a math wiz but he could teach PhD. level forest botany in the collage of his choice. If you need a “Surviver” personnel trainer he is your man.

On the return he worked over an ant bed. Out they came. Worker ants carrying leaves five times their size and the “Protector Ants” about one inch long with pinchers visible from five feet. Machete picks one up and holds it to my ear. The little sucker was screaming in ant language “You are mine Bitc#@*” . Amazing!

We crossed a limb about 1 inch in diameter that looked as if had been cut with a razor sharp chainsaw. But in this case a bug did the deed. He picked up a one inch beetle and asked if I wanted to hold it. No way! He reported that their pinchers are very small and it takes along time so they were not big bitters.

We hit the canoe and went down the river heading south. We snorkeled a bit. Came across a fish net. Mr. Machete was working hard with his mask. We crossed a home where a small tornado came through two days ago. Those thatched roofs do not hold up to well. Lionel reported the entire roof could be replaced in one day for $ 150.

On the way back to the Jamaraque I kept hearing the waves on the other side of the tree line hitting the beach wondering what was causing it since we were in the calm of the jungle swamp. Once we arrived back I saw why. Twenty knots winds out of the west had 2- 3 seas pounding us.

We went to one of family homes for lunch. Simple rice, beans, potatoes, fish, water, and some lettuce we had brought. Out of left field bleachers a chicken comes swooping into my lunch plate. I put a Bruce Lee cross block deflection to save the meal. Seems about 50 chickens run free through out the village to include your homes.

I went over to a small school hut. It had just one small chalk board in a room 20 by 20. Five 6-9 year old girls had set up a handiwork table. Bracelets made from all things from the forest. I looked over their sign-in book. I was the only the forth American to pass by in the last 12 months out of 600 visitors. I bartered hard with the little rascals and forked out their asking price of $ 1 to $ 2 each. $ 10 later I escaped with my life.

We went back to the beach. The waves were pounding us hard. We decided a siesta was in order. So I camped out on beach bench for a two hour snooze. Kind of like the Corona commercial without the beer. Very relaxing.

I rain storm woke me and we camped out in a house for thirty minutes for it to clear. Most families have 4- 6 kids. Guess being Catholic and no electricity you do not have much else to do.

 Man they are all smiles. Hearts of gold!

The waves dropped to one foot so we made our getaway. On the return we stopped at the village or Maraque. It was mostly the same setup with the exception of a natural rubber tree forest and factory. I went through the whole process. 200 trees worked in the raining season Jan – June.  7 men use a tool to carve a line in the bark, pound a spike in the base, and put a one pint cup with a bit of ammonia under it. One day later 1 to 2 gals of latex is collected. They heat off the ammonia and vulcanize it. A one meter steel drum on a rotating axle is used to mount a fabric like cotton with tape. They brush the rubber on the cotton with a pigment. Lastly they put the 3 foot by 5 foot rubberized cloth to dry in a shed and there you have one day of production for 7 men.

The next day three women hit the 1900 vintage "foot powered" Singer Sewing machines to craft all sorts of purses and backpacks. I bartered hard with the owner and got two purses for $ 15 each. He was tickled pink.

The sunset was rapidly approaching as we head back to ADC for our last leg. I hijacked the boat from Cuicuera while Lionel opened the bar. I drove for about an hour while Cuicuera chilled.

As nightfall came on us I gave up the helm and hit the bar.  Then something I had never seen happened. I looked to my right (east) and saw Mars all alone on the jungle horizon. I then looked to by left (west) and saw Venus over the river. Good stuff!  Seems the "North Star " does not make the cut here.  Just the Big Dipper on the horizon.

We made it home around 9:00 to find a few locals bathing at the center court stairs. Sort of looked like a scene from  India.

Claudio greeted us with a big “Saude” (Cheers). I got online. It was too slow tonight. Hit a page request and talked to Lionel for a while.

Seems he came here from France after meeting a Brazilian girl. I think this must be an international thing that the girl calls the shots on where to live. They were dating for seven years and the itch hit her and now he is a lost soul. Hope he can find his " soulmate ".

I asked if he was following the Tour. He said no. I slammed him for being a Frenchman not following his country’s main event. He just answered “I do not have a country.” That blew me away. This guy was one of gypsy nomads your meet who just float around the world. Claudio’s place seems to attract them. Sort of like a UN outpost. They come in about every thirty minutes from all around Europe with that same hippie look. Their own culture of the country Earth.

 I am  getting old.  So to bed at ten tonight.  Damn this is a blast.

Ata mais tarde.