High in Peru's Amazonia

All I wanted was to travel down the Amazon and now I was sitting in a darkened room, surrounded by armed men, some searching my bag, and one, with a touch shining on my face, asking questions.
How did I get here? I don't know, just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
It had been a long bus journey, from Tingo Maria to Pucallpa, and when we had pulled in to the village it was already dark and it felt ominous – no street lighting, no light coming from the buildings, everything in shadow, especially the armed men silently walking around.
Everyone had to get off the bus and stand by their luggage. My passport was checked and everything seemed, for me (you tend to selfishness in these situations) to be OK. Then one of the soldiers came back and asked me to open my bag.
I don't know what caused me to be taken to the next stage – the 1oz bag of coca leaves; my small collection of Peruvian books; my camera; my micro tape recorder; or perhaps nothing at all, perhaps they were just bored and thought to play with the foreigner. Whatever the reason I was 'invited' to a building on the edge of the village square.
My hands against the wall I was asked a few questions whilst a gun was pointed at my back. Then I was 'invited' into the dark building and that's where you found me at the beginning.
I knew I had to remain calm, I knew I had to avoid annoying them, I knew I had to make sure there was no violence. If, for whatever reason, one of them hit me my future would be a short one and I would join the many 'disappeared'.
That didn't happen. I answered their questions; I remained polite and so did they; my Spanish held up and I gained myself more time by asking them to repeat some of the questions; I learnt a lot about interrogation techniques; they didn't want to see my money, indicating these were professionals; and then they got bored.
I was told to pack my bag quickly and leave. The bus had been held back. I'd been away for the best part of an hour but it seemed like only a few minutes. I was greeted in a friendly manner by the other passengers, I was told some of the women had been crying over my possible fate.
The bus moved on. Thirty minutes later we came to another check-point. My heart sank – did I have the energy to go through it all again? I had no fears. This was brightly lit up like the frontier base in 'Apocalypse Now'. These were not professionals. It was a warm and balmy night and they were more interested in their beers.
I arrived without more ado.