I wake up feeling like a new person! Everyone celebrate! Mosquito repellent for all! I rush to pack my things and get to breakfast, ready for the big hike.
We walk into the trees lining the main camp area of Calanoa and our instructor, Lee, leads us in group activity to heighten the senses. Standing in a big circle, we listen to the jungle, smell the jungle, be the jungle. I am the jungle. It is humid and I am stinky: Jungle Morgan. But I am so excited to go for the hike, I can barely stand still.
Lead by machete wielding Jorge, and camera wielding Elvis, our hike starts with more medicinal properties of plants. I take strange, random notes (with no diagrams... good job me). These acai berries are good for fighting malaria. This tree resin is used to treat fungus. That resin fights ulcers. This grass is good for removing evil spirits. The list goes on and on. The humidity only increases the deeper into the jungle we go, and my feet make squishing noises in my boots from the pooling sweat. I drink a litre of water in no time - good thing Elvis knows which vines are filled with potable water.
I cannot really describe the jungle, so may the photos speak a thousand words. My favorite trees are the walking palms. I take pictures of each one I see until my phone strangely glitches and dies. The screen has verticle lines running down the face and I curse at the thought that the humidity killed it.... and that I didn't buy Apple Care.
We spend five hours tramping through the mud and leaves, over trees, under leaves, around termite mounds. Bug bite casualties are high.
At dinner, the leaders are wearing big grins as they announce a night boat trip to the island lagoon in the middle of the Amazon River. I inhale my dinner and dessert and run to grab my things. I kill two cockroaches before leaving the cabin and yell to the survivors that I will get them before bed.
I jump into a small canoe with no roof and sit next to Jun, my zen guru. It's hard not to fist pump as Elvis climbs in our boat. We head out over the black waters, under the black sky of the Amazon, towards the island that appears to have no land. Our boat driver, Carlos, cautiously motors into the lagoon and cuts the engine. We row into this strange area where river meets island and it is still so still and calm - a constant flowing lake. Carlos heads straight to the trees on the side of the lagoon and begins navigating through the flooded jungle, where the trees appear to be growing from the water, or sinking into it. We weave through the dense forest and the canoe glides into a black lagoon, surrounded on all sides by trees and the sky opens up into a million stars.
It is so beautiful and peaceful, just the sound of the paddle hitting the water, and the movement of Elvis's flashlight as he scans for wildlife.
We see owls, night shades, a baby parrot, countless spiders (even one super freaky one that glides on the water and can jump!!! Brand new nightmare material...) and to the never-ending perseverance of Elvis: an adorable little sloth. Here above us all, the Milky Way Galaxy, a cloudy tumble of stars.
We hear screams across the lagoon, and I almost clap my hands with glee - sure they have spotted a caiman crocodile. Alas, it is just the panic of fellow students in a sinking boat. Our boat quietly returns to Calanoa and we spend the ride looking up at the stars, an open eyed dream of the endless universe that we are barely a grain of sand in.
