Peruvian Tales

It was November 30th 2012 and I was leaving Iquitos in two hours. I was on a mission driven by unconditional love, to go back to the Amazon rainforest camp that had been home. I was to fetch Woolly Monkey Felipe to take him to Monkey Island where he will be able to live in freedom with other Monkeys after his mother was killed whilst he was still a baby. It required careful planning and involved a two hour journey by road, two hours by foot and an hour and a half by boat and that was just the outward journey! I leave at 7am and trust I'll be back by sunset.

I held his small hand outside the moloko. I could see the moonlight reflection in his eyes.
The night was dark, but soon dawning, the moment still.
Something was definitely different tonight. He didn't let go. He knew.
There was none of his usual nighttime monkey business! No grabbing my hair for leverage to work his way up fast to hump my head whilst digging his fingers into my eye sockets.
I wouldn't be seeing him again.
It was thanksgiving, my stay was almost over and I would be leaving my Shipibo family in five hours.

Gilberto, his wife, children, apprentices and volunteers live on camp at La Isla de Los Monos. Monkey Island is a sanctuary for young monkeys many of which were caught up in the trafficking trade and rescued. It is an incredible therapeutic space despite the unbelievable devastation this spring that the floods caused to the island and the camp killing eight monkeys and many of the fruit trees earlier this year.