Journals

  An excerpt from my journals kept during my summer in the Amazon rain forest.   After sunrise breakfast consisting of brick-oven baked bread, prepared by our resident Portuguese chef Nielson, a banana and plenty of sufee (sugar-coffee the Kayapo consume), we get our gear together and embark on our day’s hike.   I have been informed that we are trekking to a waterfall to enjoy some swimming, and visions of glorious outpouring water stir my spirits and push my shuffling feet along the path.   Early on many  in our student troup are already weak and short of breath while the Kayapo men make it look effortless, painstakingly easy for our struggling limbs.   Two in our group only make it halfway before giving in to exhaustion and turning around with a Kayapo guide leading them back to camp.   We stay the course – a winding up and down well-covered path of forest – many times having to lean against the earth on our right as we traverse the steep inclines.   We take short breaks for those among us who need to go to the bathroom or just simply get some hydration from their water-bottles.   By in large, our Kayapo escorts keep us on a steady and brisk pace.    When we finally see a small creek on our left we know we are close.   Before long we can no longer contain ourselves - we strip off our shoes and clothes (wearing swimsuits underneath) to bask in the cool refreshment of the rain forest water.   We rejoice in  mute unison due to fatigue.   We wade through the rocky water until the sound of the waterfall reaches our ears. The water suddenly gets colder and we spot schools of fish.   Large jagged rocks frame each side of the narrowing stream.  It appears to bend to the left where the waterfall must be waiting for us.   Once we can no longer feel our feet touching bottom, we dive beneath as deep as we can to test the water’s depth – it is deeper than we imagined, plenty deep enough to jump from the cliff overhead.   About 30 feet high, it is relatively tame by waterfall standards.  After a few minutes of wordless pleasure soaking up the scenery, we gingerly make our way up the slope of rocks – they are large and slippery and must be carefully navigated when walking in bare virgin feet.   I edge my way to the front of the pack and can see the drop-off right in front of me.   I am the first to take the leap – an adrenaline rush pours through my veins and in the instant I hit all breath is stolen from my lungs.   I am under for at least 5 seconds, but upon reemerging and regaining my voice I let loose with a primitive scream, letting the others know of the wild exhilaration they'll feel.   They follow and take the plunge.   After a few more times up and down, we move in the direction of the waterfall.   It is falling gently enough that it resembles a masseuse working their hands into your tender skin, sore from the trek to reach its fingertips.   The stone around the base of the fall, underneath the water, has been smoothed to the point where it is too slippery to sit upon.   There is a log that has been positioned as a connector between the two walls of rocks – we are able to climb on top and make a not-so-majestic swan dive off.                                                While we are thoroughly transfixed by the beauty of our surroundings, the Kayapo are busy fishing for our lunch.   They will not go swimming here because of electric eel they know to inhabit the waters around us.   We are told of this after we jump in the water.   Shortly after, most in the group clear out and soak in the sun on the highest point of the rocks, where the Kayapo have established our feasting ground.   They have returned with two large fish in hand and get to work making a fire.  In no time the fish are cooking on top.   They cook quickly, the outside turning into what looks like charcoal.   Large leaves are cut as place-mates.  We dig in with our greedy fingers, while they are slow and meticulous with their machetes.   It is a delicious meal with plenty to go around.                                       After lunch, we hop back in the water for one last look, smell, and feel of the magnificent surroundings – a picture we will never forget.   We are part of an exclusive group of less than 50 people who have ever been to this place.   It is a place not found on any map, deep within the heart of the Amazon rain forest somewhere within the state of Para, lost amongst the more than 11 million hectares of Kayapo territory.  Here, we have found an experience few others will ever know.   We are privileged to   have been given such a stunning gift from a tribe of people we now call friends, and I can not imagine how anything on this trip can possibly top what we have just done.