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 Christmas decorations in Ciudad Bolívar
The moment we arrived at the bus
terminal in Ciudad Bolívar we were accosted by a man wanting to sell us
tours to Angel Falls. Some of the group was keen on seeing the falls, some
of us weren't sure, and some were just so wasted from the bus ride we
didn't want to think about it right then. But we heard his pitch and he
secured us transportation to a hotel near the river (for which, no doubt,
he got commission). I noted that while he was describing the boat ride to
the base of Angel falls he said that about a mile from the falls "we have
to get out and push the boats since there's not much water in the river."
Hmmm...
This gentleman had left a bad taste
in my mouth and out of principle I was determined not to simply follow his
pitch. So some of us split off and found another hotel. I bravely went in
and talked to the clerk myself, and it went swimmingly up until I finished
our transaction with a goofy "THANK YOU VERY MUCH!" (in English). We were
scheduled to all rendezvous at our hotel in a few hours to discuss tour
plans, so in the interim Amber, Joe, Bill, and I did some investigating.
We talked to a couple other tour brokers, and they said they wouldn't take
us to Angel Falls since it was nary a trickle that time of
year. So we ended up deciding
against an Angel Falls trip. Instead, we took a three-day excursion into
the jungle along a tributary of the Orinoco called Rio Caura. The Caura is
a black-water river, lacking the calcium that causes a river to be white
or silty in color. Black rivers are virtually free of mosquitoes.
The jungle trip was a three-day
excursion. We left early in the morning from Ciudad Bolívar in a van, and
drove about three hours to a little town on the Caura called Maripa. There
we met our guide, Luis, a Yekuana native (which are the primary tribe in
the area). Since the natives have learned Spanish as a second language, it
made talking with them comfortable. Luis showed us around the town and we
ate lunch in his backyard before boarding our boat. It was fortunate that
we knew Spanish at all, as this tour would not have been possible
otherwise.
The Yekuana make long, narrow boats
out of single trees. We were able to fit our entire group of twelve, plus
three guides, in one boat sitting two by two.
Rick on the front of the boat
It was a four-hour boat ride to our
first camp site. About halfway there we stopped on a sandbar. Luis said it
was an excellent place to swim. At first I was hesitant to jump in,
thinking "this is a tropical jungle, it's fresh water," etc. But after
wandering around the sandbar for awhile watching some of the braver
members of the group swim, I decided "what the hell," although seeing a
stinging ray swimming along in front of me didn't make me feel 100% secure
in my decision. Swimming in the river became one of the best things about
our jungle excursion, and soon whenever we stopped for lunch or had a free
moment at least a few folks would jump in for a quick dip.
Luis's monkey spider |
The first night we camped
underneath a thatch roof about a hundred yards in from the river.
Luis hung hammocks for all of us while the other two guides cooked
dinner. Sleeping in the hammocks took a night to get used to, but
after that they were pretty comfortable. Having bats hit your feet
as they fly in and out of the shelter, or hearing the sounds of the
jungle all around you as you lay in the blackness is a little
unnerving, though. I was thankful Luis waited until the next morning
to show us the monkey spider he had found underneath his
hammock. |
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After breakfast we headed
upriver in the boat and visited a Yekuana village. These people are
known for their intricate basket weaving, and when we arrived they
showed us their wares and we spent time visiting. We then headed
upstream again, this time to hike up a hill beside the river.
Working our way through the brush was amazing. It was a lot like
southeast Alaska in terms of the amount of vegetation. About halfway
up we got hit by a tropical rainstorm, but with the amount of
vegetation above our heads we heard the rain for at least a full
minute before feeling it. It was a glorious sound, exactly like
those "Sounds of the Jungle" ambient CDs.
Bill, Oksana, Amelia, Debbie, and Arlo in
the jungle
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Christine, Rick, Cathy, our guide Luis, and
Joe
The view from the top of the hill: jungle on
all sides as far as the eye can see
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That night we stayed in the
village since our previous camp wasn't made to withstand rain. Some
of the villagers had gone to our previous camp and moved everything
while we hiked. This was a blessing, for it gave us additional
opportunities to talk with the locals. We all hung our soaking wet
clothes by the fire and chatted until late into the night. The next
morning I showed some Alaskan pictures and postcards to some of the
villagers. They graciously listened as I fumbled through trying to
explain whales, float planes, and cruise ships. As I mentioned
before, since Spanish was these peoples' second language as well as
mine I was more comfortable talking with them than with an urban
Venezuelan.
We spent the rest of that day
returning to Ciudad Bolívar and enjoying warm showers and soft beds.
I wanted to play a piano desperately, so I summoned up the courage
to call some of the local restaurants to ask if they had pianos. I
prefaced each call with "Hi, I'm a student of Spanish so please
speak slowly," and it worked pretty well. After three calls I had
located a piano they'd allow me to play, so a bunch of us headed out
to eat dinner there. Unfortunately it turned out to be a dinky
little electric keyboard. I never found a piano the entire trip.
(There had been one in our hotel in Caracas, but it was horribly out
of tune.) |
Amelia drying her socks by holding them
above the speeding boat |
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