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We spent the night at the Tropical. Beautiful old wooden doorways and long, haunted corridors. Reminds me of THE SHINING. Expect Jack Nicholson to pop out at any moment, "Here's Johnny!".
Met our companions for the next week. Quite a motley crew we are!! Should be interesting.
5:30 am wake up call - tough on the old gal! Walk in the forest. Don't know when I've been so wet. Rain soaked everything through and through.
Wet, wet, wet!!! Camera is toast - condensation formed in the baggie used to keep it dry.
My captors continue to torment me - beginning with the banging on my door at 5:30 in the morning, cold showers and forced marches to nowhere through the hot, steamy jungle. My only sustenance is the cruel gruel of mantioch. I fear I am slowly being poisoned. When will it end? To what do I owe this cruel fate? Ah yes, it was my once best friend in whom I trusted. I was seduced into a lurid trap with visions of granduer. The horror, the horror!! (note to self: trust NO ONE!)
Learned of village lore today - it seems that once a year the pink dolphin comes ashore, disguised as a sailor. His little white sailor hat covering the blow hole on top of his head. The dastardly fiend then seduces an unknowing girl in the village during their Festival and leaves her with child. This is the explaination after Festival as to how young women turn up pregnant! Wish I had known that story, could of come in handy if you know what I mean.
While visiting locals, observed a couple of bachelors living in their nice little pad. There was quite a bit of excitement from the men in our group when they observed the art work upon the stone walls. It seems that there are some naked women "spirits" or something that get to ride on the backs of jaguars. Atleast that's one mans fantasy.
Began as all of the others, but am now plagued by bug bites, wet socks, nightmares of pink dolphins disguised as sailors and naked women riding jaguars. Am afraid the Malarone may not be working - seem to be delusional. Our captors made us swim in the black waters, where just yesterday I observed them catching the flesh eating piranha. In a show of benevolence they cooked our evening meal on the fire, then gave us a strong concoction to drink. I suspect it is what their Captain has been consuming - as everyone who drank it became loud and began to sing. Their eyes soon glazed over and they broke into a tribal dance, thrusting both hips and pelvis' in an unseemly manner. The voodoo magic of the jungle is working. We are becoming some strange, new tribe. Must find a way out and soon!
I woke in a dream state this morning - Howler Monkeys screaming in my ears. It felt as if the talons of a Red Headed Vulture were searing into my brain. Then the pounding, the pounding wouldn't stop! I startled, jumping up to open the door - only to discover the pounding was not on the door, but in my head. They tell us we may return to civilization in the morning - for a price. Alas, had I known what the ransom would be, I'd of sent it and foregone such torture. But I fear our freedom arrives too late, as this new tribe has now formed - forever linked by shared sufferings and e-mail. I feel my sanity returning as I am allowed to have contact with the outside world once more. My fingers fumble clumsily with the cell phone. I will recover - but am forever changed.
My flat butt aquired from the hard, wooden canoe seats, has been of some use in the long jouney back. However, my sufferings have not ended upon the return to civilization. Seem to be having difficulty readjusting. I find myself looking upwards and carrying my binoculars for no apparent reason. Yesterday my son caught me throwing food out of the kitchen window rather than in the garbage disposal. I woke in the middle of the night wondering, "Who is REALLY driving the boat?". Worst of all (and this is most disgusting) I have a tendency to put used toilet paper into the waste basket rather than in a perfectly functional commode. Some type of therapy may be in order - will make appointment for Spa treatments tomorrow. Will also contact other members of Flat Butt Tribe. Reunion may be necessary to compare notes. Wonder if others are experiencing some of these strange after affects?
I had fun writing my daily diary of the time on the Rio Nego. In truth, it says nothing of the beauty of the place and the people. The flavor of the sunsets and the stillness of the water at night. One could not tell where the night sky met its end and the dark waters began. It was if we were on another planet, one with two moons - the reflection being so perfect and undisturbed. Can you see flavors? I now have, and my mouth waters when I think of going back.
My trip on the river is something never to be forgotten. It truely has given me a different perspective on life.
