29 August 2001

Our journey has begun! We departed Manaus on Monday afternoon at 5p.m.

It was the first time we had all been together on the Commandante Savio, our small river boat that is going to take us slowly westward, against the current of the Solimoes river, the local name for the Amazon river.

The first thing we did was take a shortcut! We were on the river 15 minutes, and the captain announced we are going to try a smaller river to cut some time right away. The sun was setting, the river was narrow, and we all got introduced to our new friends, the mosquitoes.

As we sat down to dinner on the open second deck of our boat, we sat down with ants, mosquitoes, and about 10 varieties of insects I had never seen before. And we all ate together. We turned off as many lights as we could, for two reasons, I think.

One, to avoid attracting more bugs. Two, to avoid seeing which bugs we were eating with our rice and beans. Luckily for us, the insects leave a couple of hours after sunset, but we can all see what we have in store in the early evenings for the next six weeks.

After our first meal, we dug into the hammocks and had a hammock-hanging party. We all kind of looked at each other as we tried this knot and that, experimented with different lengths of rope, and tested our own work by carefully climbing in and hoping not to hit the floor.

We all have cabins, but most of us have chosen to sleep in a hammock on the second deck with a mosquito net around it. There is a gentle breeze that comes off of the water all night, and the sound of the waves travelling down the side of the Savio makes for a nice night's sleep.

After hanging the hammocks, most of us sat silently or in small groups just watching the dark trees go by. We noticed that the moon is growing right now, it lights up the sky each night, and we figure by the time we reach the mouth of the Jurua river, the moon will be full.

Our group is a wonderful mix. As I write these updates, I hope to use their names, introducing them as things happen, as we talk and get to know each other better. Already it is obvious that we have a special group. During the short time together in Manaus, we all worked very well together, buying last-minute supplies, counting pots, pans, first-aid kits, blankets, food. Eating lunch and dinner each day and discussing our project together was a great introduction in Manaus.

Each one of us has a different motivation for being here, mixed with personal goals, impressions, upbringings. We are Spanish, Greek, English, Dutch, Chilean, Swedish, German, Brazilian, and American. Tomorrow a Chinese volunteer arrives, who we will pick up in a small town along the river.

Most of the volunteers speak English, and we translate everything into Portuguese for some of the crew. My Portuguese is going very well this year, but it is going to take awhile to understand all the jokes the captain tells everyday.

All the boat crew are from the Amazon region, with a lot of experience in these rivers. We have four men who take turns driving the Savio during our 24-hour a day voyage, and two women who are cooking our meals. They obviously like this work, with easy smiles and serious work dispositions.

The river we are travelling on is quite brown and muddy. But, some of these towns sit at the
mouth of a black river, which are great places to swim! So, this morning, the entire crew got our first taste of a good Amazon river swim. The first of many, I hope. The water is warm, clean, and tastes slightly acidic. And it feels wonderful!

This afternoon, we practised with an aluminium boat that we will use on the smaller rivers during the project. We all drove around the Savio, next to the shore, through the waves.

On our first practice run, two grey, freshwater dolphins jumped about 10 feet in the air just ahead of us! We always look at spectacles like that as good luck. Only two of us saw them, so now the storytelling begins!

Our surroundings are the Solimoes river, about half mile wide here, and the thick, green forest on both sides. There are single homes where the 'ribeiros', or 'people of the river' live all along the shore. They are often spaced about one mile apart, small wooden boats made of a tree truck pulled up on the shore in front of these places, three or four children sitting on the front steps of the house, cows in the yard, and a small space cleared near the house.

At this second, I can see the bright yellow leaves of one giant tree mixed with the greens of all the others just behind one of these houses I am describing. This is the season when the river is receeding here, so there is a bare, steep shoreline that extends about 10 feet up, connecting the brown river water to the green forest.

I am told the water will drop another 20 to 30 feet before it rises again, creating beaches, narrowing all the rivers, and exposing what is nine months of the year, the bottom of the river. This is our scenery, motoring at up river against the current.

I hear the clanging of dishes, and voices from the dining table, so it is time for our afternoon rendezvous for juice and coffee. The speed of life here is slow and methodical, and things we do are deliberate and planned. Lots of laughing, pondering our days ahead, and now, begging for more swim-stops!

So, it is time to go listen to a lot of different accents, enjoy the conversation, and watch the sunset. No two sunsets are alike down here. Until later...tchau!

Bryan
United States

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