The next day we packed off early on a bus along the newly constructed road to Nauta the small port city two hours south. In Nauta the group split up to hop on boats to our communities: 15 students off to Veinte de Enero and 11 off to Yarina. I went to Yarina because of the smaller group size, smaller community size, and location three times further away from "civilization" than the other. The boat rides were definitely a highlight. From Nauta we struck south upon the Río Marañon until we turned onto the much smaller Yanayacu river. This confluence is where we crossed the border from brown to black water and also where we entered the Pacaya Samiria Reserve. After a quick stop at the Veinte de Enero community, we continued on to Yarina. In short, every minute in transit was enjoyable.
As soon as we entered the reserve, we began to see birds. First, we saw a huge heron called the Uchpa Garza (Ceniza Garza or Ash Heron). It is very similar to the great blue but it is ash colored; uchpa is ash in Quechua. There were also more normally sized, white herons and the striking Puma Garza, called so for its dappled brown and black plumage. Just before arriving at the community we startled three capibaras. They ran out of the forest to the water, saw us barreling along, and then retreated.
The next day we had class in the morning and then played with the community´s children in the rain. We soon realized the extent of development of the community. The 110 people of Yarina are--with a few exceptions--mestizo, Spanish-speaking, and dressed in occidental clothing. So this was good for amending the gringo´s "indigenous ideal," as it has come to be known. They mostly practice subsistence agriculture with a couple trips a month to the market in Nauta to sell fish and buy salt and cooking oil. The reserve’s rules concerning resource extraction prevent excessive exploitation.
That first afternoon we went a couple minutes up the Yanayacu and stomped about among the walking trees. Just during that day we saw roughly two dozen collared kingfishers! Also, I saw a red hawk known as the gavilan mama vieja. Among the various trees our guide showed us was the caucho. It was intense to actually run my fingers through the scarifications made for the latex harvesting. The massacres of the Putumayo are very present in my thoughts.
The next day we got up early and shot deeper into the reserve. On the boat ride there we saw a wealth of birds. Tiny yellow Victor Diaz kiskadee, brown sun bitterns (tanrillas), and also two caracaras. We got off the boat and began a trek through the dark, wet undergrowth. The cachapona trees with the large, triangular, buttressing roots were quite majestic and also provided the seclusion of a pissoir. Then our guide took us to a little creek and we heard some very strange bird calls. We looked up and were blessed with four shanshos (hoatzins). They are red-rufous with an orange crest, eat only leaves and fruit, and are apparently pre-historic or something to that effect.
At that point we packed in the boat again to go a bit further to a place for swimming. It turns out that this place at the confluence with a small tributary is where the bufeo colorado likes to swim! We finally got out of our sweaty, repellent-covered clothes and swam very near these striking pink dolphins. While our guides caught fish with their hands at this little oasis, we watched the bufeos—two of them sometimes doing some synchronized surfacing. We then went back to shore and to fish for a while. We caught about ten piranhas and ate them for dinner!
The sun set and we set off to find some caimanes. It turns out that our guide Toni can call to them. A low, loud gulping noise. We caught the red eyes of a few of them and then we fixed one full in the light of a flashlight. After we had a good look and proceeded on down the river, Toni started shouting to the helmsman "left, right, left, right!" We lurched forward as the boat hit the shore and we saw Toni leap off of the prow. Up he stood with a 3.5 foot caiman in his hands. One would have thought he had placed it there. Needless to say, Toni was a great guide.
Next we passed a few days in Miraflores, Lima. Lectures continued and we made a round about the historic center. The neo-baroque architecture was quite a contrast from the mosquito nets back in Yarina.
Now we are back in Cuzco and have begun Quechua classes! Quechua, the language of the Incas, is quite difficult to take in, but it’s the best kind of challenge. We are just getting past salutations and counting. The most fun of all, however, is speaking/being baffled by Quechua at the breakfast table with my host-mother and grandmother!
