On my second day in Sao Gabriel, I spent much of my time finding out how to get further upriver. I started at the logical place, the up-river boat port and asked around. Getting to Colombia was going to entail hiring a voadeira (flyer) aluminium canoe with a large motor: 10 hours and expensive, plus the cost of fuel on top, so I settled for seeing places within closer reach. The hills in the distance looked like an interesting alternative. According to several recommendations, it seemed that by getting to a village on the river close to them, I'd be able to hire a guide. An hour later, I found Adilson at his house up behind the school, who was willing to take me and pick me up the next day.
This is the up-river port, a great place to watch families on boats, who have come to town from villages on various rivers leading to the Colombia and Venezuela borders- some of which are six days away.
I had to write a letter stating where I was going, for how long and for what purpose and present it to FOIRN - the Federation of Indigenous Organisations of the Rio Negro- who would then type it out and get it stamped. This authorization is needed for entering any indigenous area in the Amazon.
Waiting around, I wandered outside. Across the road was the Colombian consulate in a painted house.
The next door house had orchids on a large mango tree.
Once the letter was authorized by FOIRN, it had to get stamped by FUNAI- the National Foundation for Indians.
All done by late afternoon.
Next morning, I was at the up-river port again, letter in hand. I waited on the petrol pump pontoon, watching families fill up, while I waited for Adilson.
Ovidio, a teacher from an up-river village who was on holiday, decided to come along for the ride.
The engine chord snapped. Adilson and Ovidio got it sorted out in no time.
More boats going to fill up as repairs were being made.
Up-river was full of rapids, islands and motor canoes carrying up to 14 people.
We stopped a couple of times for directions, then spotted a young man on the rocks washing and fishing. This turned out to be André, who ended up becoming a good friend.
While Anselmo, his older brother and head of the village, went up to tell the rest of the village what was going on and to find a guide, I stayed by the river-side with André and went for a swim, while André recounted stories of where he had caught fish and seen a large snake. I kept close to the rocks.
When we went up to the village (really a couple of houses, a small church, small school and grass football pitch- the other houses from the community were spread along the river), I met José, the village elder, who at 80 years old was full of energy, laughter and stories. We had a quick bite to eat with the family (including José's just as energetic and hard-working 76 year old wife, two daughters visiting from Sao Gabriel, and a collection of children).
This is André eating some of his fried fish in a peppery sauce, along with a tapioca pancake, made from mandioc flour. The kitchen is in the background. At the time, there was a wood fire going and mandioc flour was being roasted in the largest pan (1.5 metres across) that I've ever seen (video to be uploaded when I have my pen drive on me at an internet café further on my travels).
Açai palm berries are collected from trees in the community and made into a juice. The tradition here is to add crunchy tapioca to açai- a perfect energy boost before a trek.
André stayed behind. I went with Miguel, a 34 year old brother in law, and Johnny, Anselmo's 13 year old son. The first part was to canoe from the village a few minutes up-river and into an igarapé (creek), from where the trail began.
Behind the village and into the forest were plots cleared by the traditional method of cut and burn and where mandioc, peppers, sugar-cane, pumpkin, bananas and açai palms were cultivated.
Mandioc.
Açai palms.
The walk was three hours through the forest. Miguel and Johnny walked quickly and effortlessly in flip-flops; I struggled to keep up. The first couple of hours was through a relatively flat area, criss-crossed by numerous sandy streams and with an untouched forest of large trees and thick leaf cover.
Johnny at one of the streams.
After a break by a stream and a small clearing in the forest which was used as a camp for hunting trips, we began the one hour steep climb up the mountain.
Miguel with his rifle and Johnny on a slippery rock outcrop on the trail up.
At the top, there was another small hunting clearing, which we used as our camp for the night. It was above a rock precipice and the view was incredible- to the Rio Negro, distant ranges and over a thick cover of forest to the horizon in all directions.
Johnny tying his hammock to a tree. Miguel starting a fire.
Trees with bromeliads and orchids around us.
A tarantula, the size of my two palms put together, which came walking towards me (Johnny had disturbed it by upturning all dead branches and logs in camp in order to rid them of spiders!).
Miguel putting up the tarp under which he and eventually Johnny would put their hammocks.
We took little food with us. Miguel had a pouch of roasted mandioc flour and was hoping to go off hunting to catch a chicken of the forest (but we ran out of time). Luckily I had some food. Dinner for each person was: 1 smoked and toasted old bread roll, 2 biscuits, 1/3 apple, two squares of chocolate, washed down with mandioc flour crumbs in water. As we ate by the fire, we could see a myriad of stars, including Orion, shining through gaps in the canopy.
There was an incredible sunrise the next morning, with clouds swirling below us, to the chorus of monkeys making their wake up calls. Here we were, about ten kilometres south of the equator and it was a scene I will never forget.
On the way back, Miguel went off on his own to hunt for an hour while Johnny and I waited by a stream. It wasn´t to be his day. The forest chickens had escaped (or rather flown away out of the canopy- they´re a wild and athletic version of our chickens and hard to hunt).
I was back in the village for a couple of hours seeing where Miguel lived (wonderful spot above the river by some rocks and with plenty of land), getting shown all the typical fruit trees of the Amazon, listening to André chat to me about more good fishing spots and a river dolphin which made a hole in his net last night, having lunch and açai and going for a swim and all the other things ones does in villages like this. When Adilson arrived for the return trip to Sao Gabriel I was rather sad to go.
