My Amazon travel journals, like my Pacific Crest Trail journals, combine excerpts from my journal, which capture the events as they took place, with my ” in-retrospect” reflections or thoughts as they came to me while I wrote this.
Headed to the MLC (Manu Learning Center)
March 27, 2024
I found my people.
The ones as willing as I am to let time pass as if it’s endless for the purpose of appreciating wildlife: observe, photograph, take mental note. There are three others in my group (aside from our guides). We only met a day ago, but it feels like we’ve known each other longer. This sentiment will ring truer the more days that pass.
For context, it’s important to include my previous journal entry and mental state from March 24, 2024.
Leading up to meeting the friends I’d make during the Amazon trip, I had a few jarring experiences and conversations that caused an emotional shake-up. One of the biggest was after our Rainbow Mountain hike when our tour guide hit a dog and left it crying in the street. I’m purposefully writing this with the least detail possible, as I don’t believe the story’s detail is necessary to convey what I have to say.
I’ve had traumatic experiences before, but this was one of the most significant. Afterward, I felt emotionally vulnerable, which inevitably led me down a path of contemplation, thinking about humans and life and balancing one thing over another.
What came up for me was this:
I don’t fully grasp the contradiction that lives within the spiritual concept of worship for “mother earth,” the belief in the divine life of nature, and then killing animals for utilitarian purposes.
I don’t understand the capability of prioritizing oneself above something else. Specifically, as it pertains to a more vulnerable population.
It upsets people when I say this – as if my ideals are misaligned or misplaced, as if I should better understand the hierarchy of nature. The overall idea is that nature is cruel, and since we are at the top of the “food chain,” we should also be cruel.
But shouldn’t arguably superior-evolved minds, equipped with complex thinking, be the first to find solutions for a less cruel world?
We all have our battles to fight. It’s a primal instinct to have enemies and tribes. Belief systems help us to categorize in both. We need to know who our enemies are, to know our friends.
Some humans enjoy hunting because they like the way it makes them feel.
Some humans enjoy suffering because they like the way it makes them feel.
I wish more humans felt the way I do. But that’s my idealistic world. One where we all take the time, as if endless, to observe wildlife being… well, wild.
So when I say I found my people. This is what I mean. Not that we all have the same belief system, because I know that the hill I’ll die on for animal advocacy is sometimes higher than what most would like to climb. Rather, I found softness in others, which, at the time, I desperately needed.
This image is part of The Wildlife Photography Project | Learn More
That is all to give you context into where I was emotionally. I was in full-fledged bleeding heart mode. This is by far one of my less theatrical entries. I once wrote about feeling like a trapped bird because the office where I worked at the time had no windows. I can laugh about it now, but in those moments when I’m writing freely, expressing my internal dialogue, the feelings are often intense. Regardless of how I feel now, sharing these thoughts is always vulnerable. But I’m an emotional human; I embrace it, and it makes me a good writer.
This image is part of The Wildlife Photography Project | Learn More
I’ve spent much of the past year wondering who I am and who I want to be in this world. We all do it; reflect on our purpose. I’ve been open about my doubts as I’ve experienced them. Sometimes, I worry I spend more time living in some made-up version of the “future me,” stuck on wondering what’s to come, rather than enjoying the present. But I try to stay present. I try, just as we all do, to appreciate the now of it all.
That’s another layer to my experience in the Manu Reserve, which I’ll unpack as we go along in these entries. But for now, I’ll say the collective work we were doing demanded attention. It demanded that we were present at the moment. The fact we loved what we were doing made this demand easy.
But I’m getting ahead of myself a bit. It is here; with day one’s entry, we are still on the road to the MLC.
It will take us one full day to arrive at the MLC. We stop at a few places along the way, including Oropesa, the Peruvian Capital of bread. This is where we enjoy some of the best chocolate bread I believe I will ever have. It is sweet yet savory with spices and an upfront flour flavor, making it taste as fresh as it is.
Photo by Crees
The drive through the Amazon is unlike anything I’ve seen. Winding narrow roads, all looking out to vast expanses of lush green canopies. We stop to adore a group of Woolly Monkeys. Some are carrying their babies. We’re assured of how lucky we are; it’s only been a few minutes since we officially entered the reserve. You can feel how much life exists here, an invisible pulse.
This image is part of The Wildlife Photography Project | Learn More
Tonight, we’re staying at a lodge in the Cloud Forest. We park the van and hike a short distance; this is our first endeavor into the rainforest. Although I’ve hiked through many forests, this one feels like its very own type of special. We ring a bell at the start of a well-crafted rope bridge to alert our host we have arrived, as there is no cell service where we are staying.
Photo by Crees
He hears our calls over the raging river and opens the door. We cross and meet our host, his dog, and our accommodations for the night. All are welcoming.
It’s now that I realize I didn’t take enough photographs of our accommodation, but doesn’t that always seem to be the case? After our worlds have changed, when the experience has ended, we look through our photographs, searching for the image that encompasses it all -rarely do such images exist. However, as a photographer, I believe they do exist – of course, they do – but the unlikeliness is what feeds the magic of their capture.
We take a moment to settle into our rooms. The sun sets shortly after we arrive, but first, we go to a lookout point where we’re hoping to see cocks-of-the-rock (Rupicola), an extremely bright and beautiful bird. Instantly recognizable but hard to spot with so much tree cover. They move quickly, but this is a prime location where they meet.
We observe the birds in silent awe. Their bright red-orange feathers are a deep contrast to the multiple shades of green that surround them. They are incredible, doing their best with vocalization and head movements to seduce any female that may be near.
The lodge does not have electricity; this is part of its sustainability practices, so we do everything by headlamp.
After dinner, we prepare for our first-night hike. This is just a short introduction to what’s to come. Pepe, the field biologist who is guiding us, specializes in amphibians and reptiles. Tonight, he is hoping to see a new species he hasn’t seen previously, as he hasn’t spent much time in this area.
Before we head out, I catch a glimpse of myself in the Crees T-shirt. It reads “Ambassador of Manu.” We all have one, and we’re all wearing it tonight.
This is the moment I process where I am.
Surrounded by the sounds of water raging in the river, insects I’d never heard before, bug net on my bed, bare feet on the wood floor, in a lodge completely open to the world.
Everything leading to this point was a rush of settling in; settling into being uncomfortable, different hotels, new people, wandering an unfamiliar city, wondering what’s to come, feeling homesick, working through bad experiences, working through good experiences, being alone, being together.
And now, I’m settling into a rush. Feeling like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be when I’m supposed to be there. I have more moments like this over the course of the next two weeks. It’s a feeling that fills me with gratitude and passion for life.
With our gear check complete and my moment of personal introspection over, we head out and get lucky right off the bat, as Pepe spots this very cool (sorry, I don’t have the exact species name, but I do for future finds) lizard. The photo above shows him holding it for identification and classification purposes. I will note here, and continue to note, that all species were handled by professionals for the purpose of classification and data collection. No animals were harmed or removed from the wild.
I will share more about my experience with observing and collecting data in future posts.
That first night, we saw many spiders; I was amazed at the amount of spiders we saw. But otherwise, nothing else. After returning to the lodge, it was a quick journal entry and then off to bed. I fell asleep listening to the world as it moved and lived around me, not expecting anything from tomorrow, just enjoying the night.
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