Fiesta on the Shiripuno

I got off yet another bus. The sun was just coming up and already the heat was oppressive. I had just arrived in Coca, a small town on the edge of the Oriente, Equador’s Amazonian basin. The bus dropped me off near the Coca River so I went to check it out before finding a hostel for the night.

I went to my hostel’s front desk and asked them if they knew any guides I could get in contact with, they said they’d make some phone calls. I went to my room and took a shower and a nap, after 12 hours on a bus you crave these things pretty badly. The buses in South America are a much different style than those we’re used to. In Canada, people complain about a Greyhound having to stop too often, but in South America the buses are often used as local transit, package delivery or even as a school bus.

When I woke up the man at the front desk informed me the guides would meet me at the ice cream parlor down the street at eight p.m. I killed the next two hours by wandering the city. Even in the city I saw two monkeys and a Paca (a dog-sized, adorable rodent).

The next morning I headed out on a five-day trek with my guides, Xavier and Chuli. Xavier is a fit 30-year-old who speaks Wulrani (a local tribe’s dialect), Spanish and pretty good English. Chuli is the cook, he also drove the boat most of the time. He is 35 years old and a smaller man. He does not speak English.

On the way out I had to get tested for Swine Flu. They did this at the town’s hospital. Let’s just say I’m glad that I didn’t need any serious medical assistance from this hospital, there were dogs wandering around in it.

We drove another half-hour or so and arrived at the Rio Shiripuno.

Our boat was waiting for us tied up to a makeshift dock. I helped to load all the camping and cooking supplies needed for the trip, as well as the plywood we’d use as seats, the tents and the gas.

After driving down the river for about four hours we arrived at a small village and unloaded our equipment. This would be our home for the night. There were some children playing with a machete. They started jumping off this cliff into the river so I joined them and they laughed and smiled at me.

They invited me to a fiesta that night. There was a homemade liquor made by chewing up Yuka plants and spitting them back out into a big vat. It was then left to ferment. I smiled and looked around while I took a sip. The texture was horrendous. This is going to be a pretty wild time, I thought to myself as I took a second sip.