The Amazon Trial: Peru

Aug 12, 2016

By Manjiri Maindarkar

The Amazon Trial: Peru

Flying solo to the other side of the world from India to Peru to study field biology in the Amazon spelled independence for a single woman like me. Back home, the paranoia of me being in the jungle was high, even though I was part of a team. My challenge was to tackle a science project on my own – something I hadn’t done since 10th grade. But I had a bigger test – to show myself that I could sensibly navigate through this tranquil jungle.

Step one – Walk a two kilometre trail alone through rainforest with obstacles.

The trail to the lake was one where I had to walk on wooden planks so I wouldn’t sink into the soft mud. A cloud of mosquitoes followed me and whenever I stopped to climb over a fallen tree I’d get three new bites on my face. Before this, the Peruvian Amazon had seemed quite tame. The danger here wasn’t coming face to face with a carnivore, it was the possibility of sinking into a particularly boggy patch and not being able to get out. I was close to Cocha Lobo, an oxbow lake named after the giant river otters that had been spotted there in the past. Sighting them was incredibly rare but I had seen them before when I had visited the lake with my classmates from camp. This time I was heading down to the lake alone to observe some unusual birds called hoatzins.

Step two – Take the boat out into the water and row till you find hoatzins.

I had never rowed a boat before. Ever. A friend had given me tips for turning and braking and that was all I had to go on. I reached the dock, untied the boat, set it afloat and clambered in. I took it as a good sign that it didn’t tip over or float away before I could get in. The rowing tips paid off and I found that directing the boat was not as difficult as I thought it would be. The only sign of the dock now was some orange marking tape hanging off some branches. I rowed at a safe distance from the shore, not wanting to bump into the vegetation lining the edge, towards a clump of mangroves that began croaking as I approached. A pheasant-sized bird flapped out with a clumsy flourish and landed on a branch with outstretched wings. It had blue patches around its eyes and a crest on its head. Its long, dark brown neck speckled with white turned as it looked around. A second bird joined it and squawked loudly. I had found the hoatzins.

Step three – Face extreme challenge.

Higher up, on one of the trees, a branch swung in the telltale movement of a monkey having leapt off it. I positioned the boat away from the shore in the middle of the lake and sat quietly, waiting for whatever it was to show itself. I could hear the swish of wind some distance away. After a couple of minutes, a capuchin monkey stuck its head out of some leaves, grabbed some foliage and stuffed it into its mouth, chewing energetically. Another followed and I sat watching them. It suddenly struck me that the sound of the wind had grown louder but the water was absolutely still. My boat wasn’t moving either. I looked around, wondering what was happening. As I watched, a sheet of rain came across the bend of the lake at an alarming speed. I dumped my camera and binoculars on my lap and covered it with my rain gear before the rain soaked me, all before I could finish screaming, “ARGH!”. Trying not to panic, I pulled my hat on my head and began rowing into the wind so I wouldn’t be buffeted toward the shore. I peered through the rain to see the sun shining at the other end of the lake and headed towards it.

Step four – Bask in the sun and be humbled that you experienced a natural event that you could handle by yourself.

After about four minutes, the downpour abruptly reduced to a misty rain. The sun was ahead of me, the rain behind me and a rainbow stretched from one shore of the lake to the other. I stopped rowing and let the sun warm me up. Ahead of me, the surface of the water broke and two grey heads popped up and began crossing the lake – the otters! A third followed but stopped to look at me. I didn’t dare move. It opened its mouth and raised itself up till I could see a patchy white throat. It grunted loudly and swam into the mangroves.

I considered that my real reward.

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About the Author

Manjiri Maindarkar

Manjiri is a freelance photographer and traveler based in Mumbai. She specialises in documenting the diversity of the country through travel. She has worked with a leading commercial photographer and more recently, has been studying conservation of natural habitats.

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