The Amazon

The sound of water grew louder and louder as I crunched along the path cautiously following our guide. The forest quickly became greener as we approached the river, and the animals in the forest scurried in all directions at the sight of outsiders. Finally, we emerged from the shadowy canopy of trees into a small clearing on the bank of a slow-moving muddy, brown river, the Amazon. Our guide directed us to the boat, and we climbed in just as he was cranking the motor. The smell of gasoline penetrated the air, displacing the earthy smell of the forest. Our boat slipped backwards into the water, and we began our trip down the river.
Gliding down the river, it seemed impossible not to notice all that was around me: two monkeys joyfully playing in a riverside tree, a bird with a huge yellow beak flying high above the river, a crocodile peering just above the surface in a creek sunken back into the forest. Our small sliver of a boat slid tightly into a tiny creek just off the main river, and our captain reduced his speed. The forest rapidly became darker, and the shade from the trees seemed to wrap a stifling humidity around us. The boat slid to a stop at the start of a small path coming off of the bank of the creek. We unloaded, bags in hand, and followed our guide as he led us on a path, twisting and turning through the trees.
The path grew larger, and finally we saw a small village through the gaps in the trees. The locals called this place Anak’i Tectokan. The village seemed to be larger than the ones I had seen in "National Geographic," and the first noticeable image was the dirt plot where local boys played some sort of ballgame which I would later learn to call pok-a-tok. The village consisted of a large rectangular hut surrounded by seven huts all made of some sort of wood and covered in palm fronds. Due to the amount of rain, the village was muddy and brown. A man with a feathered necklace came to us and presented himself as the village’s healing guru, Saibezi. He pointed us to a hut and showed us what would evidently be our home for the next few months. As I set my bag down on the dirty mat made from leaves, I heard a cat’s roar. It startled me so that I flung open the door to the hut, only to see two native men pointing spears at a black panther, poised and ready to fight. Another man appeared at the edge of the forest with a strange looking contraption, like an overgrown straw. He blew hard into it, and the panther staggered as the red-feathered dart pierced his neck. A few seconds later, the panther was dead lying on its side. Saibezi rushed to it and carried it to the long, rectangular hut in the center of the village and began chanting and sprinkling a crimson powder over it and draping a green beaded rope over its head. I knew at this moment that my year would be unlike any I had ever experienced.