2.19.2012

Attack of the Monkeys

In the night it's hard to see where you're walking or what you're stepping on. Spiders, snakes and cockroaches populate the candlelit walkways. I run around barefoot all day and night and every once in a while I feel something and am like, eww, don't think I should step on that. I've been reading the indian mythologies related to the area as a bedtime read and have been dreaming of jaguars and tigers. A few nights ago I stalked the grounds like a jaguar hunting a boa. I haven't seen a boa yet, but I know their here somewhere.


During the last two nights Carnival has fired up in the nearest port town. We can here it from 20 miles away down river. There's been fireworks and intense yelling, but luckily both nights have also had intense tormentas (thunderstorms) and that silences the Carnival fire. I hate to rain on their parade, but you know, we need the rain. Next day people return to the villages covered in mud and paint, and plants like bobinsana blossom.


Rain at night. It's less humid when it rains and the forests are more active.


Two days ago...

We went for a jungle hike and made offerings to sachamama, the spirit of the jungle, with the shamans. There are dozens of signs around the property that warn against cutting down the trees. The shamans intentions are to save the forest and be at one with them.


We got covered in butterflies along the way and those are seen as transformative beings, as our snakes.


A little leaf frog.
The local plant caretaker. Small woman, but with big heart and big strength.






The Shipibo tribe came and set up a market of their artwork and jewelry.






Yesterday, we danced with more indians. They used red paint instead of black and their dances were very circular in nature, not anaconda-line formations like the Bora.

Start of the dance.

Blow dart practice.


Little Red Cheeks.


Peace with the people.


Back to the water to visit the monkey kingdom.



Rain.

Claro, lluvia.


La reserva de monos.



Simon and his little brother. None of the monkeys are caged or restricted in motion. They go into the jungle when they want, but prefer hangin at the reserve in the day and meet people.


The smiling sloth.


Always happy. I find it interesting how animal traits bring out emotions in the human audience. The sloth made people happy and smile, the snake made them strong and tense, and the big black monkey made the men aggressive and play rough. Are we only a reflectionof the animal kingdom? Every animal in one body? The perfect mirror of creation?

The fastest monkey in the book.


This big mono loved to attack men. He clawed, bit and stole whatever he could get his monkey hands on.


I picked up an old and wise monkey that clung to my shoulders for the hour we were there. Everytime I'd touch another person or go near another animal he would scream, maybe it was envy?


Right before the big boy starting chewing on Umbertos bald head.

> Ancient eyes.

This is not a toy sloth.


An alien turtle.


The anaconda.



This was an awesome moment. 11 people from around the world holding one giant snake, and I, still have the monkey on my shoulder. It was the only time I could touch another without getting yelled at by the monkey.

If you were a little monkey, would you dare go near this?



Sachamama, thank you.