Memoirs of an Adventure Mom-Part 2

by Chris Dean

We were heading into the jungle with Fernando, our guide, his refrain of "trust me" echoing through the forest, when we stopped to observe termites scurrying to enlarge their already huge nest on the side of a tree. Fernando stuck his finger into the nest and then popped it into his mouth, flashing us a huge grin. "Anybody want to try?" he questioned the group. My eleven year old son, who eats nothing but grilled cheese (with no burn anywhere!) barely missed a beat and quickly said, "I will!" "You will not," I chimed in. "It's good for you," Fernando laughed. "Well, alright," I hesitatingly agreed, hardly believing that this was the same kid who was, by my standards, a fussy eater. He popped the termites into his mouth and declared, "minty," like a food critic sampling exotic cuisine. Within moments, all the kids and some adults gathered around to sample the tasty treat. We had arrived only yesterday in the Amazon Rain Forest in southern Venezuela, landing in a small propeller plane onto a tiny strip of muddy runway, and in a mere twenty-four hours, my children were ready to embrace all that this magnificent experience had to offer. As the hike continued, our adventuresome crew sampled ant heads, ("lemony"), various exotic nuts and berries, and live larva ("nutty").We sampled the magnificence of the forest, not only in the cuisine, but in all that it offers ecologically. Fernando pointed out to us the tree that holds the remedy for asthma. We saw a small tree, that, when Fernando hacked it with his trusty machete, poured forth fresh and delicious rain water. We saw tenacious cutter ants that carried, like soldiers all in a row, pieces of perfectly cut leaves, to their underground homes. We saw solid lines of red ants that left nasty bites if they got into our shoes. Fernando tried, on several occasions, to tease a tarantula out of its nest in the jungle floor by sticking a twig down the hole and jiggling it, hoping that the tarantula would grab on and be lifted out. I can't say that I was disappointed that there were no "takers" on that particular day. We also saw exotic birds, butterflies the size of paperback books, and howler monkeys hiding in trees, watching our every move-not to mention the exquisite rain forest flora that can be huge, because of the humidity and climate, but also delicate and fragile at the same time. Our morning trek ended at a beautiful swimming hole on the river where we swam and relaxed and looked for gifts for our "secret" pal. Our guides had told us the night before that because it was Christmas week, we were going to celebrate by giving a daily gift to a "secret" pal and our "secret" pal was determined by drawing a name out of a hat. There were four families, including our own, here in the Amazon. We were to do our "shopping" in the forest or from what we could find around the camp. My husband and I flashed each other a panicky look at this point and it was then that I made a mental note to always travel with random gifts for just such an emergency! Everyone thought it was a great idea, especially the kids. Thankfully, I drew my son's name, and my husband drew my name. My son did not know that I was his "pal" until the last night when we were to reveal our identity along with a special gift. This exercise in giving proved to be a wonderful experience and made me realize that much could be created armed with nothing but a rain forest and a river. I still cherish the memories of searching the jungle for a special gift for my seven year old and watching my children create something special from odds and ends that they collected throughout the day. We returned to camp after our hike in the jungle to have lunch. Lunch, like all the meals served at the Yutaje Tourist Camp, was an uncomplicated affair and was served in a central wooden building, reminiscent of girl scout camp, with chicken wire windows, a cement floor, and a simple long wooden table where meals were served family style. The "rain forest cuisine," as we referred to it, was the "no frills" type of eating and meals were served promptly at 8:00, 1:00, and 8:00 in the evening. You ate what was served, or you didn't eat. Each meal consisted of plantains, beans and rice, and some unknown meat or fish. No one asked. The fish was taken out of the river, usually that day, and fried. All supplies were flown in or brought up the river. There was a big, open air porch off the dining hall where we would convene in the evening to share our day's experiences and discuss our plans for the next day-life here was simple. In addition to Fernando, our guides included Dani (the only female) and Patrick. They proved to be caring, gentle, highly educated young people who exuded a quiet calm, a watchful eye, and a keen sense of humor, which would come into play numerous times during the course of our visit. After introductions, they took us on a tour of the camp where we would be staying, for four days. Each of the families was on the trip had a small cabin. Electricity was provided during critical times of the day (morning and evening). There was a fan in the room and hot water available in the AM and PM. Because of the remote location, all power was provided by a generator. On a trip up the river, the Manapiare, which was a tributary of the Amazon, located several hundred yards from the camp, we boarded motorized, dug out canoes and headed in the direction of the Manapiare Falls, for a swim. The narrow river was a strange orange-brown color, and we were told that this phenomena was due to the combination of leaves falling into the river and minerals in the water. We arrived at the falls, which were surrounded by mammoth rocks and gorgeous cliffs. The water, cascading over the cliffs, had a yellow-brown tinge to it and the contrast with the green of the forest was most surreal. We pulled the canoes ashore and rock-hopped to a mid-way point where we found an enchanting swimming hole. The kids, seven in all, including my twenty-three year old daughter and my two younger sons, quickly scrambled over the rocks to a higher level, where they jumped from cliffs into the foaming water below. (Manapiare means black foaming water). The guides, leaped from rock to rock, to be close to the children and monitor their activity. Those of us who stayed below, swam and relaxed in the magic of this enchanting place. It was an afternoon to remember. After our hike, we headed down river to visit an indigenous Indian village, which consisted of just a few families. This village was the closest civilization for miles, and the people we met were gracious and friendly. They made small gifts for the children out of vine and pieces of jungle greenery. A woman prepared food over a large, outdoor, open fire. Small children crawled near the fire, but never got close enough to get hurt--they had apparently learned to avoid fire at an early age. As we headed back to the river, children followed us to the canoe, always staying several paces behind. When we would turn around, they would stop and hide-reminiscent of the children's game of "red light-green light." As we meandered up the river toward camp, my daughter spotted two fresh water dolphins swimming near our canoe. They were as large as ocean dolphins and seemed out of place on such a small, narrow river. At one point my seven year old leaned in toward me and whispered inquisitively, "Are we on the Discovery Channel?" My feelings exactly. That night we all ate dinner and headed back to our little cabins, except for the older kids and guides. The guides pulled hammocks into the middle of the camp and gave the kids an astronomy lesson, using the crystal clear, star-studded sky as a backdrop. I'm sure it was the most memorable science lesson they had ever had. The next morning we headed up a steep mountain for a long hike to the top, for a spectacular 360 degree view. The hike was a little strenuous for my seven year old and at one point he sat down and declared that he couldn't take another step. Patrick, our guide, gently coaxed and encouraged him on, and together they led us all to the top of the mountain. To see my young son rise to this difficult challenge was a moment that touched my heart. Back to camp for a swim, lunch and then off in search of piranha! We took the canoes down river (with guides), to a sand bar where we sunned while the kids fished for piranha-small red fish with a mouth full of ferocious teeth. Fernando and Dani were patient as they taught the children how to fish with a pole, a line, and some live bait. The kids caught many fish which we ate that night. Delicious, was the consensus! After dinner we headed out to the porch where we swapped stories, and talked about our day's adventures. It was also the night that we were to reveal ourselves to our "secret pal" and present them with a final gift. I gave my son a small rock collection, with each rock representing a place we had explored. My husband presented me with a huge frond upon which he had written, "two hours of fanning on the beach." There was much carrying on as gifts were exchanged and shared. Everyone in our travel group rose to the occasion and the gifts that were exchanged were thoughtful, clever, touching and very creative. Not bad for "shopping" in the jungle! Our Rain Forest experience has had a long lasting effect on my three children. They still talk about the jungle and all that they saw. Whenever they refuse to eat the toast because it has too much burn or the pasta sauce is too chunky, I'm quick to ask, "Perhaps you'd prefer it with termites or ant heads…

Chris Dean is a free lance writer and an avid adventure traveler.

After our Rain Forest experience, we went to Henri Pittier National Park in the northern part of the country where we hiked and explored for several days before heading on to Margarita Island off the northern coast. From there we headed for home.