Since childhood, the Amazon has been my dream. In the boyish imagination, it was a paradise filled with parrots, bright colors, and spaces overflowing with exotic fruits, scents, and enchanting sounds.
And now we are heading to South America. Our route: Almaty, Amsterdam, the exotic island of Bonaire off the coast of Venezuela, the Ecuadorian port of Guayaquil, the capital of Peru - Lima, and finally, Iquitos - a city in the heart of the Peruvian Amazon.
Twenty-four hours of pure flight. Another twenty-four hours - transfers, transitions, connections, boarding, waiting... Everything mixed and turned upside down: time, winter, summer, cardinal directions. We are entering another world.
One hundred and fifty years ago, in the place where the Itaya River flows into the Amazon, in a remote thicket, stood the huts of an indigenous Iquitos camp. In 1860, Jesuits arrived here and began converting the indigenous people to Christianity. Later, several white men came and zealously began to exterminate the pagans and settle in their huts. Thus, a settlement named after the exterminated Indians arose - Iquitos.
Thanks to its beautiful location on the banks of the Amazon, Iquitos quickly grew. The early 20th century, when everyone was swept up in the rubber boom, was a time of flourishing and enrichment for Iquitos. But even now, Iquitos holds significant economic importance. It is the only point for exporting products produced throughout the entire Peruvian Amazon, with its vast areas covered by impenetrable jungles. It seems incredible, but Iquitos has no land connection to the center of the country. You can only reach it by plane or via the Amazon from Brazil.
Today, Iquitos is a first-class seaport, despite being 4,600 kilometers from the Atlantic Ocean.
In Iquitos, we were met by a guide named Jimmy. The young Indian had something of Mowgli about him; he spoke very little English, but strangely, we understood each other.
Dirty, windowless buses and motorcycles filled the tropical city like ants. After passing through the noisy one-story neighborhoods, we reached the riverbank and boarded a low motorboat, which sped like a torpedo along the Ucayali River (the main tributary of the Amazon).
Leaving the large water behind, we turned into the right tributary of the Mamón River. For about forty minutes, the boat flew over the dark green surface of the water, spraying a fan of splashes at every sharp turn, of which there were countless. It was wonderful here, and the first impression was that you had entered a paradise that would embrace you as soon as you docked at the shore. But as soon as the boat approached the shore or slowed down, the view opened up to a picture of the humid rainforest. The banks, in essence, did not exist; the trees were swimming in the water...
But soon we docked at the shore. Here we were welcomed by a hotel. More precisely, it was a complex of wooden cottages with thatched roofs. Instead of windows, there were dense nets, and instead of paths, wooden walkways on stilts. Bright flowers and parrots adorned the lawns. The center of the complex could be considered the dining room, built around two giant palm trees. At the height of their crowns, the structure ended with an observation deck that offered a captivating view of the Amazon. In the center of this tourist reed village was a beautiful pool with dazzling blue water.
Immediately upon arrival, we decided to explore the forests adjacent to the complex. Finding a path, we entered the unknown world with the trembling feeling of pioneers.
After just a few steps, it became clear that the existing notions of the Amazon jungle were incorrect and far from reality. Step by step, we delved deeper into the encroaching green spaces. Huge and shady trees did not grow densely but were scattered. Because of this, sunlight penetrated all the way to the ground. However, later, when we ventured significantly deeper into the jungle, we encountered areas where complete darkness reigned.
Amazonian trees have massive trunks and relatively sparse foliage. Towering trees, "occupied" by other plants, intertwined and twisted illogically, reached for the sky. Thorny, prickly, oily, fragrant, mirror-like, and smoothly polished trunks stretched toward the heavens, outpacing one another. Moisture and humidity gave rise to carpets of moss, giant ferns, and other plants unknown to us.
The forest looked unusual, clearly displaying several layers. The lowest layer consisted of exposed tree roots, impenetrable thickets of shrubs, bamboo groves, and various grasses. The other layers of the green kingdom were located above the ground, on trees and bushes. I am not mistaken; that's exactly how it is: a vast number of plants, both flowering and non-flowering, had settled on numerous branches - commonly referred to as parasites, scientifically known as epiphytes. They, in fact, give the tropical forest its exotic character. Colorful orchids sometimes cover entire trunks, bromeliads, or pineapple plants, grow directly on tree branches and resemble bizarre giant rosettes.
A special place in the design of the Amazon jungle is occupied by vines. Some are as thin as threads, while others reach the thickness of a human torso.
Once upon a time, the trees of this fairy-tale forest decided to rebel, and someone subdued them by binding them with ropes made of vines, limiting space with lace-like grids and compartments. Vines spread across the ground, climbed trunks, swung from branch to branch, from one tree to another, slid back down to the ground, and disappeared into the thicket. In this tangle, it is impossible to find either a beginning or an end. Garlands and braids have been waiting for their fairy prince for thousands of years, but alas, in vain. Here, from a venerable tree, vines hang down like the torn veins of a giant. Looking at them makes one uneasy. Some vines have wrapped so tightly around the trunks that the trees, suffocating in these deadly embraces, die after a few years. On their corpses, new vines grow and later turn into trees themselves - figs.
...The acquaintance with the tropical forest continued the next day. Now we are immersing ourselves in the green kingdom together with Jimmy. His weak knowledge of English does not matter. The main thing is that he knows the language and life of the jungle. Jimmy was born and raised in a small Indian village on the banks of the Amazon, and the jungle is his home, element, and life.
- The main thing is not to touch anything and not to come into contact with anything, - warns Jimmy before we set out.
In the depths of the forest, a steady twilight reigns, visible and invisible insects fill the spaces. It is stifling. Sweat pours down like rain. Jimmy, with a machete in hand, clears a path. There are no permanent trails in the jungle. Some trees reach gigantic sizes. The thickness of the trunks at the base is more than ten meters. It is impossible to see how high their crowns go; the middle layers of this kingdom are completely opaque and dense.
The roots of most of these giant trees rise up like a swarm of angry octopuses, forming mazes and arches.
Individual forest giants - bertholletias rise to heights of 50-80 meters, while the giants of eucalyptus reach 130-150 meters. To embrace such a tree, fifty people are needed. This entire realm of the forest spirit is intertwined with vines that hang like rain, spiraling and squeezing the trunks of trees to death.
Jimmy frequently stops, drawing our attention to various plants. Some of them are used to prepare various remedies, others can be consumed to make drinks and dishes. But there are plants that you cannot even touch! They can burn, wound, or poison.
Our journey through the jungle continued. The palm of the pošiuva arranged its bizarre roots, armed with terrible thorns, on the surface of the ground like a pyramid. A prick from such a thorn inflicts painful wounds that do not heal for weeks. From some unknown plant emanates an aroma that causes an instant headache and nausea. A few steps, and the unpleasant smell disappears, and the headache ceases.
The path is blocked by a fallen tree. Jimmy pokes it with the blade of his machete, which immediately sinks into the rotten, decayed interior. Long centipedes, dangerous and venomous creatures, immediately scurry out from there. A moment passes, and giant ants - insuli - pounce on them. "We need to leave the battlefield," warns Jimmy. "It is possible that in the heat of battle, the insects may attack us too, and that is very dangerous. The venom of centipedes will make you sick for several weeks, and a sting from an insuli will cause fever for five days...".
It was hot; there was not enough air to breathe. Sweat flooded my eyes.
Tiny insects bit continuously.
Jimmy continued, skillfully wielding the machete, to clear a path through the dense green spaces. But then the Amazonian "talamp" - a swamp, infinitely long but only a few meters wide - blocked our way. We exited just in time, as Jimmy found a narrow canoe in the bushes, and we took turns crossing the talamp. The swamp looked uninviting. In the murky water, something mysterious and ominous was wriggling.
We emerged onto solid ground. All around was dampness and mud. We wanted to get out of this inhospitable green kingdom as soon as possible. There was a lack of air and light. It seemed that in another moment, the hanging vines would twist and swallow us.
What is this? Hell or paradise? Some boiling cauldron of lush, frantic fertility, a frantic thirst for life, where everything reproduces and devours everything and everyone.
Tired and overwhelmed by the hostile environment, we broke free from the tropical forest into the familiar world. It seemed that our visits to the jungle were over. But soon the charm of the tropical forests of the Amazon lured us back into a world of mysteries and enigmas.
The Symphony of the Night Amazon
The day ended with a colorful sunset. Night fell on the jungle. After waiting for it to fully assert itself and become a night with stars and a moon, we boarded the boat and sailed upstream on the Mamón.
Jimmy found a channel and turned into it. After a few minutes, the boat was carried into the open space of the bay. The river slowly carried it downstream.
The night was already raging. The sky, scattered with stars, sparkled with millions of worlds. The jungle began its nighttime serenade. A performance was about to begin - the symphony of the night Amazon. A symphony featuring millions of actors and musicians.
...At first, tiny, silent lightning flashed with green light. Some glowing insects settled in their places. And then the jungle turned on the sound; an unimaginable cacophony filled the space. Thousands of sounds merged into an endless, unified roar.
Cicadas provided a background that faded and intensified. Birds hooted and tapped. Frogs improvised, filling the air with sounds. Lizards, spiders, worms, larvae, fish, and animals produced chirps, creaks, and whistles. The symphony expanded, with more and more sounds joining the giant orchestra.
The wave of sounds created a magical flow that seemed to lift me above the space, carrying me away, swirling over the singing jungles, and bringing me back.
The boat continued to float. Everyone was silent, enjoying the magical music of the jungle. How much time had passed? Half an hour, an hour? Time dissolved in the magical sounds of the Amazon night.
But then Jimmy turned on the motor, and the boat, jolting, sped downriver. The motor rattled and howled around corners, introducing a clear false note into the ongoing symphony. But that no longer mattered...
“A person who finds himself in the Amazon jungle experiences a surge of genuine joy twice. The first time it happens when he, blinded by the fabulous riches of the tropical forest, is convinced that he has entered a terrestrial paradise. The second time he feels joy when he manages - alive or maimed, or on the brink of madness - to escape from the cursed, accursed places that once seemed so enticing to him.”
So once said one of the well-known figures of Brazil.
In the forests born from the sun and waters of the Amazon, it is always hot, humid, and stuffy. For nine months, day after day, it rains here, rivers flood the forests, and movement becomes difficult or impossible. Dangerous beasts hide in the thickets, deadly diseases lurk in the swamps, mosquitoes, midges, ants, snakes, all sorts of poisonous insects, repulsive creatures, and some trees and shrubs poison the air with their toxic vapors... - all this makes it unbearable to stay in the jungle. Only the free sons of the Amazon - the indigenous people, adapted to this world, can exist in it.
According to scientists, there are currently about 50,000 indigenous people living in the Amazon jungle. Their lives differ little from those of their distant ancestors. Entire tribes still roam the vast expanses. Some of them still retain a primitive communal structure - a stage that humanity passed thousands of years ago. These people gather products from the tropical forest - fruits, berries, larvae, edible plants. In addition, the indigenous people hunt with the same weapons their ancestors used: bows, arrows, spears, axes, knives. But the main weapon is the sarbacan, a blowgun, an amazing invention of the indigenous people of the tropical forests. It is just a tube 2-3 meters long, made from a dense bamboo trunk. With a strong exhale, the hunter releases a small feathered arrow from it, which, like a bullet, silently cuts through the air, hitting the target without fail. (I personally verified this by shooting from an indigenous sarbacan). The arrowhead is coated with the deadly poison curare. The effect of the poison is infallible. The victim - whether a bird or a beast - almost instantly suffers paralysis of the respiratory tract, and falling from the tree, it becomes the hunter's prey.
One day, we visited the Boras tribe, living on the banks of the Nanay tributary in several round palm huts. The short, wiry chief demonstrated shooting from the sarbacan, while the other members of the tribal union sang songs and danced, offering handmade decorations made from anacondas and colorful parrot feathers.
Of course, this performance is more for tourists. With the arrival of tourism here, it has become an additional source of income for them. Nevertheless, everything looked genuine, as in real life.
Unfortunately, there are not many tourists in the Amazon. The main tourist routes in Peru and Ecuador run far away - to Machu Picchu, Nazca, the plateau of Puno, the shores of Titicaca, the Pacific coast, the Galapagos, ancient Cusco, and the cozy towns of Ecuador, as well as the metropolises of Lima, Quito, and Guayaquil.
Here, in the Amazon, there are only barely noticeable paths, trodden not by tourists, but mostly by adventurers and scientists. The Amazon is not for the mass tourist. The extreme zone is full of risks and surprises. It is for the desperate and fearless seekers of adventure. It will be many decades before big tourism comes to these lands. And will it come? The Amazon is a raging green ocean, filled with "Bermuda triangles," storms, and dangerous reefs.
From my diary. The Amazon is the largest river on Earth. Its length exceeds seven thousand kilometers, receiving fifteen thousand tributaries. The Amazon collects water from an area equal to Australia, and its depth allows ocean vessels to navigate from the Atlantic to the capital of the Peruvian Amazon - Iquitos.
In the Amazon lowlands, the river splits into numerous arms and channels, and even an experienced pilot finds it difficult to navigate their complex intertwining. There are no landmarks, buoys, or signs indicating the way. Trees grow directly from the water. Often it is impossible to dock at the shore, and if a passenger still wants to disembark, he will have to wade for tens of kilometers through flooded jungles and swamps. When there is a lot of water in the Amazon, it floods up to 80-100 kilometers. No other river on Earth experiences such floods.
The Amazon forests are an incredible natural greenhouse, one of the most amazing and unique wonders of the globe. Everything here is new, unusual, diverse, bizarre, full of undisclosed mysteries. Everything alive, represented in an astonishing variety of forms, colors, sizes, and species, grows, develops, and is in a constant struggle for existence, joyfully celebrating life, light, water, and sun. Here, everything devours and exterminates each other to give life to new beings of the animal and plant world. Here reigns the iron law of the jungle, which is visible and palpable in reality.
In the Amazon forests, amazing plants grow. From the roots of barbasco and the herbs of tambo, the indigenous people prepare intoxicating substances widely used by shamans and magicians. We also visited one such shaman. In the dense thicket under a roof of palm leaves, swaying in a hammock, the shaman told us about miraculous remedies capable of enhancing male strength, inducing dreams that predict the future, and freeing from fear and various diseases. Of course, the secret of preparation is a mystery known only to him. From theoretical concepts, the shaman suggested moving to practice. However, there were no brave souls willing to know the future in our team.
And again, our boat, spraying streams of water, sped along the twists of the Nanay and Mamón toward the Amazon. Dissolving the veil of rain, the sun poured over the jungle. The wet, weeping trees stood in sadness. We too felt sad to part with this amazing earthly realm. Frozen in silent formation, the Amazon bid us farewell, shedding large tears...
Around the next bend, the shores receded, and the boat leaped into the open water. This was the Amazon, born here, at Iquitos, from the rivers Ucayali and Napo. Having received its birth certificate, the Amazon loses the charm of its banks and no longer looks as exotic as before. Now it resembles more of a sea bay. After many kilometers, the river will merge with the Marañón. Then there will be a meeting with the Rio-Herpy and many other large and small rivers. In Brazil, the Amazon will spread across the vast expanses, becoming a true green ocean, full of mysteries, secrets, and unexplored spaces.
From Iquitos, the queen of rivers continued her leisurely and eternal run toward the ocean. Further, our paths did not cross. We leave the Amazon as we arrived, by plane.
Time will pass before all of us, participants in this fantastic journey, realize the significance of the events we witnessed here - at the edge of the earth, in the gravitational zone of the great Amazon. Breaking away from the earth, the plane flew east in the rays of the setting tropical sun - to where, far beyond the ocean and continents, lay our homeland. And again, just as three weeks ago, spaces, time, and horizons rushed back, returning everything to the real world of our dimension.
And before I put a period to my brief narrative, I want to say that the author of this captivating journey was accompanied by Olga Gubaeva, Svetlana Poluektova, Larisa Dudashvili, and Viktor Kadyrov.