Sloths are slow

  Manaus, State of Amazonas, Brazil
Saturday, July 4, 2009

Ola from Manaus -- capital of Amazonia -- and home to the slowest, most carefree creatures on the planet earth -- the Sloth! 

But first, our trip had taken off very smoothly as all our flights were on-time and hassle-free -- Bernie even received his checked backpack after they ripped it apart to search for the concealed tranquilizer darts that he planned to use to catch Jaguars.

Our tour had 8 travelers, our Guide -- Sammie -- and our boat driver (and general helper) -- Sebastian.  There was a pair from England; a fellow from Italy; a couple from Columbia and Costa Rica; and lastly a leaf-loving (including those smoked) Canadian. 

Group Shot

We left my taxi, boat, taxi and -- you guessed it -- boat again to reach our first night´s 5-star accommodation in the Pousado do Lontra.  Our room was furnished with two lovely mattresses (even with frames) with mosquito nets and our not-so-consistent rotating fan.

The first thing we set off to do was jump back in the boat -- a large wooden 5-benched canoe of sorts with long-arm outboard motor (I think a beefy 50HP) -- for which the people sitting on the middle bench had to periodically bail the water out of, unless of course you were wearing flip-flops, then no harm no foul.  Our mission, to catch the voracious Amazon Piranhas, our result, well I think the picture Bernie has on his camera sums it up (stay tuned).  Our poles were simple sticks with string, a steel lead, hook and chunk of raw red meat -- the choice for any good carnivore.  Unfortunately the Brazilian Amazon experienced their largest flood in over 100 years this summer and thus the water is still much higher than seasonally-low winter levels and the fishing hence difficult since they´re deeper and somewhat out of reach under swamped tree life.  Despite the lack of our fishing skills, we still had Piranha grill and in soup, flashing their full grin of deadly incisors.  The meat itself was rather delicate and tasted good.

Piranha

As daylight diminished into dusk we turned our goal to spotting sloths -- four-armed, tree-toed, furry mammals that as most people generally are aware are rather lazy, slow and hide in trees away from predators -- that is except curious mankind.  So we scan the forked sections of trees for the elusive lump of grayish fur to indicate their presence.  After a few mistaken mud nests or other plant life anomalies, our guide spots the prize a good 25-30 feet up in the tree and about 100 feet into the flooded jungle.  This of course does not deter our fearless guide as we plowed through the grasses and vine tangle to reach the tree and then he proceeds to climb up, take hold of the sloth, and to everyone´s surprise, swings it into the murky water below -- apparently they´re slow, but quite able swimmers.  So then we catch up to the very slowing gliding sloth and pull it into the boat.  Its hair is matted and has blotches of slightly different colored fur, along with huge 2 inch long claws appended to each of its toes, and yet this wild animal is so completed subdued that as we pass it from person to person to get our photo opps (see picture)

Sloth

, it actually appears to decide now is better than other time for a power nap.  After we´re content our portraits will prove that we´ve tamed wild beasts of the jungle, we try to get the sloth to go back into its tree.  Hmm... seems it isn´t quite done getting its beauty sleep and is rather content to just float in the water, but then as we force him to hang from a high limb, he very gradually pulled himself up like a drunken monkey and we were off as nothing had ever occurred to him today.

The next night we move from our rather civilized lodge, to the actual jungle.  We find a nice inlet into the swamped trees until solid ground is found and beach our boat.  While the area is completely native and unstructured, our guide had previously used the grounds for past groups and has some cut down trees setup to hang our hammocks and cover them with tarps -- a good thing too as within about 15 minutes of getting it all setup, we had the joy of our first rainfall -- we´re in a rain forest after all. 

Hammock

Its relatively powerful, but quick and peace befalls our camp site once again.  However, we do scramble through the large droplets of rain to cut down some wide fern branches by which to cover our fire, for which we need to finish cooking our lunch -- boiled chicken and rice.  I should explain that we didn´t accidentally find a stray chicken scurrying about in the rain forest, but our boat had a large styrofoam cooler with several chickens, eggs, and other cooking ingredients.  Yet the fire was started with freshly chopped wood, which can be a bit more challenging when you consider that the area receives rain everyday and that wet wood smokes better than it burns.  As we saw time and time again, machetes are essential tools for survival in the jungle.  They´re your indirect source of warmth, food and fresh water for when it doesn´t rain.

Now my story may be a bit out of chronological order as I realize I also forgot that we were out on the boat again the night before to catch Caimans, which are a smaller cousin to the crocodile.  Well after catching a decent 3 foot long caiman and having our pictures taking with it, and tickling its stomach until it stops scrambling for freedom (or rather a chunk of our flesh for payback), we decide the following night it was time to let the rookies give it a try. 

Caiman

So we drive out to a low lying grassy area, put on some galoshes, and use our headlamps to find the evil red glow reflected back from their eyes.  A few people go out and quickly catch some with the expert guidance of Sammie.  However, I ask if I can borrow Sebastian´s boots and also head out on my own -- determined to catch my own.  I´m allowed, but quickly realize that before I´m even 10feet from my prey their eyes disappear as they slip back under the water.  After 5 frustrating minutes -- which likely felt like 3 times as long -- both I and the other person in our group currently out trying to catch one, realize that its not just that we perhaps suck, but that all the previous commotion has caused most to flee and the remaining to become increasingly skittish.  Our guide agrees that it is the main cause, and says we will return in awhile.  Surely enough a half hour later we return and we a little help of Sammie, catch my caiman.  I actually catch him mid-body, rather than behind the neck where you´re supposed to, to prevent them from snapping their head back at me.  However, I´m feeling a bit fearless -- after all the ones we´re hunting our 1 foot long babies -- I probably forgot to mention that so far.

Later, in the day we were camping in the jungle, we´d taken a few hour hike to view tarantulas, gigantic mud hills formed by one of the 500 different varieties of ants, many uses for tree sap, bark and flesh to heal wounds, elixirs for disease, craft ropes, drink purified water, sugar/spices to flavor food/drink, etc.  Just one of the many reasons why the humankind is destroying our chances of finding cures to our major epidemics (swine flu anyone?).  I also found that I´m the best rope swinger in our group -- apart from my Tarzan yell.  Sufficed to say the one thing the jungle has more than enough of is mosquitoes.  We were all attacked and many pleaded to go back out again in the boat as the breeze off the water and distance from the trees ensured a relatively mosquito-free zone.  That only lasted so long before the reality of enduring the night had sunk in as we returned.  Now I perhaps went a bit overboard purchasing this line of clothing from Ex Officio that weaves Permathrin -- a bug repellent -- into my socks, pants, shirt and hat, in addition to my deet-based repellent.  The first night I decided to test how well my clothes would protect me on their own (minus the areas of exposed skin).  Let´s just say its not bug-proof, especially the shirt.  Even with deet they seemed to enjoy the nectar of my blood, but at least not so much so as the Brits on the trip that looked like a pink polka-dot mannequins by the end of the trip.

The next day, we pack up to head to sleep at an indigenous indian family´s home along the shores of Mamori Lake.  On the way we also stop at another family´s home to learn a bit more about the various uses of the jungle´s plant life, as well as play with some native creates -- a long-necked bird, a paca (spelling?), and a boa constrictor.  All but the boa was somewhat domesticated.  The place is setup quite nicely with a veranda-type open-sided bungalow that was circular so that all of our hammocks radiated from the center out.  Thankfully the humidity and heat was much more mild this day, combined with the breeze from the lake, made for our most comfortable night with far less mosquitoes troubling us.

Sunset

Many times on the boat some or all of us would decide to jump into the river to cool off and swim around -- some even went in at night -- but we were quite a distance from the shore and so there was no threat of caimans or anacondas deciding to test how tasty we might be.  Eventually on the 4th day we headed back to the lodge for lunch and then all the way back to Manaus the same way we´d arrived.  Regrettably Sammie -- our guide -- became quite ill by the time we were back and actually went to the hospital.  We believe it wasn´t food, but that he´d been on 7 back-to-back trips because of the busy season and being a free lance guide, combined with his older age -- perhaps in his 50s.  He put us on our final taxi ride back and later we learned from the tour operator that he was doing fine after getting some fluids.  Although I think its somewhat ironic after he explained all the wondrous miracles concealed in Amazonia life.  The final event of our Amazon trip is one shrouded in mystery and suspicion; however, one of my fellow travelers swore he saw the culprit the next day swinging through the trees.  See I couldn´t find my sunglasses on the last morning, even though I´m 99% positive I put them away in my sunglass holder as I always do as sunset falls.  Yet one did see quite a stylish monkey escaping the scene at the crack of dawn, so word to the wise is to leave an offering of bananas to appease the locals before going to bed! :)

Back in Manaus, our group checked into our hostel(s) and then went out for dinner.  Unfortunately we such a big group -- plus one guy from Northern Ireland we picked up along the way to the hostel -- it was difficult to eat at a nicer restaurant while maintaining some backpacker´s tighter budgets.  We settled on an all-you-can-eat pizzeria that was in the plaza with the famous opera house.  Instead of buffet style they walked around outside with different types of pizza, some with quite unusual toppings for American standards and you either had taken a slice or waited for another one to come by.  So quite like the serving style of Brazilian steak houses, which we´ll hopefully visit very soon in Rio.  Also, while I compromised on the meal, the atmosphere couldn´t be surpassed.  I also had a chance to take some good nighttime photography of the well lit up sites. 

Today Bernie and I checked out the central market, the port, some nice plazas, and currently I´m finishing this blog entry from a museum with free Internet access -- although I believe it to be a bit shady since they´re here mostly for student research it seems.  We´ll perhaps visit the opera house again, and eat dinner with the Irish guy before catching our flight to Rio at 4am tomorrow morning.  Oh another very odd thing about Manaus and perhaps all of Brazil, they love optrians and glasses as we passed a few blocks where about 8 of every 10 stores sold eye and sun glasses.  The brand of choice is definitely Ray Ban.  In general actually, the market area reminds me of SE asia and as the Thai liked to say "Same, Same, But Different." We´ll try to get as much sleep on the plane as possible I suppose and take a nap tomorrow.

Adeus for now -- Nomad Barry