Finally South America

I have made it through the busy season at Jungleland and the rain and customer numbers are starting to drop. With the dry season now behind us, the customers have dropped from a potential 100 per day (during spring break) to maybe 20 people, maybe nobody. With the tourists leaving, so have Shane, James and Emily, the other volunteers. This leaves myself alone to deal with the customer’s needs from 6am to 9pm.

We had a new volunteer turn up but he lasted only a week. He was a nice guy but a vegetarian with issues about grabbing crocs and caimans. He was a lover of nature and wanted to stay, but the hours were a little long for him too. Another volunteer has arrived but with two weeks minimum needed for training, he is pretty useless at the moment. In fact, my work load has increased with the fact that I have to train and explain everything to him.

Having said all that, I am not complaining one bit. Jungleland is still a special place that amazes me every day. I am still spotting new birds, finding new animals and some of the trees are changing colours with the climate. On top of that, every time I transit the Panama Canal, I am witnessing different boats, ships and wildlife. I am definitely lucky to have found, and experienced what I have here, deep within the jungles of Lago Gatun and the Canal.

 

I have to be grateful to this experience for teaching me so much and helping me to learn many new things. On top of the knowledge I have gained about the jungle and its inhabitants, I have also improved myself and started to remedy problems holding me back in life. For example, I have never been good at speaking in front of groups of people or being the centre of attention. That’s not me and it never has been. I can trace this back to being a young child on stage at the Kings Theatre and having to sing a song. I refused because the lyrics were something I didn’t agree with (eating apples and bananas) and this was the first feeling of stage fright I can remember.

Over 25 years later, I still don’t like to eat apples and bananas, but I am on the way to conquering my fears. I have spent 5 months guiding tours to boats of 25 people and giving activity briefings to maybe 50 guests and I am finally not feeling every single eye looking at me. It is something I need to conquer should I wish to earn money on the streets with card tricks or something else, but I feel it is possible with more time and practice.

Another thing that I can be grateful to for my time here is the fact that I am saving money and saving my health. Before arriving at Jungleland I had been trying to quit smoking and had cut down significantly. But the days were hard, stressful and every thought was about what time it was, was it time for the next cigarette. But when I arrived here, courtesy of James smoking my supply of ciggies, I had nothing to smoke and nowhere to buy anything to smoke. Through keeping busy, I soon realised I didn’t want to smoke, or need to smoke, and I haven’t smoked since that day.

Other than my personal development, I have witnessed many great spectacles of the natural world. Going back over the last 5 months, there are probably too many of these to bore you with and maybe some that have slipped my mind at this moment in time. But I will share one of the highlights of my stay at Jungleland, the notorious Pablo.

That’s Pablo above, look at his ugly, angry face. Pablo is a White Throated Capuchin Monkey, a species deemed to be one of the most intelligent of monkey species. That is why you might recognise them from Hollywood or television. Pablo is a very aggressive monkey and he is notorious to the boat captains around the islands. He is, plain and simply, not allowed onto the boats as he generally misbehaves. He has many stories or myths that surround him of past mischiefs and terrors that he has caused.

I had the pleasure of Pablo on my boat one day. I was doing a personal tour of 2 people and we approached a little too close to Pablo and his island. Within a flash, he was on the boat, with his eyes fixated solely on me. I was sat behind the 2 guests but Pablo had no intention of looking at them, he wanted me for some reason. He was dancing around on his back legs, waving his arms around with fury making aggressive noises and showing his teeth. I quickly remembered that capuchins are not fans of water so, like John Wayne, I grabbed my water and started to unload it in Pablo’s face. Not a good idea. That just made him even angrier and even more erratic.

For some reason, although he did not notice the guests in front of him, he did not want to pass them and engage in combat with me. If he did, I still don’t know if I had it in me to punch a monkey, but Pablo for sure would have had no qualms in punching and biting me. But fortunately, it didn’t come to that. I begged the captain to reverse the boat and when he did, Pablo turned and jumped back to his island. A few weeks later, James had a much worse experience with Pablo on his boat for 20 minutes. In this time he punched, slapped and bit customers. On top of that, when then captain tried to reverse the boat, he bit the captain and took control of the boat taking it for a little joy ride.

But all in all, we have to have sympathy for Pablo. There are many stories and myths that follow him but the one that I choose to believe is this. He was a domesticated monkey kept as a pet from a young age. Once he got older he got grumpy and angry, much like many humans do. He was dumped on an island by his owner and has not fitted into the monkey society. He was trained by a human so he doesn’t have the natural monkey actions, skills and characteristics. This has caused him to be attacked and ostracised by other capuchins, leaving him with no friends, no girlfriend and no chance to make a little Pablo in the future. You can’t blame him for being angry can you?

Looking back, my time at Jungleland was something I could have done for longer and would do again, but there was a definite need to leave there. I was starting to feel stuck there and that I would never make it to Colombia. I sent a message to Virginia, the lady who I needed to arrange my free boat crossing, asking if there was space available on the next boat. She was supposed to let me know but I didn’t trust her to do that one bit. I knew there was space available as I had checked the boat online and with only 2 days until the journey, I got in touch. Surprise surprise, there was space and I had finally got my boat.

I let Captain Carl know, packed my bag, said my goodbyes and left the following day. I got to Panama City and went back to Los Mostros Hostel, the hostel I had lived at during my time in Panama City and on my days off. Having said goodbye to my friends at Los Mostros I went to bed and got up at 5am to get the minibus to my boat. The minibus drove around and picked up various people from random spots and we made our way to the port. There had been some problems between the Kuna’s and the people making the tours so the journey had to make a diversion. Either way, we made it to the beach where we got in a speedboat to take us to the catamaran. As a nice start to the 5 day adventure to Colombia, we saw some dolphins, in the speedboat, on the way to the catamaran.

As soon as we made it to El Gitano del Mar, the catamaran, we were greeted by Nali, an old friend from Pachamama. Nali is a pit bull owned by the captain Elena and translates from the Kuna language as shark. Seeing as Nali lives on a boat, he has the ability to swim like a shark, hence the name. Also aboard the boat was Elena’s first mate, Luis and the chef, Rosie. We were given a briefing on what the plan was and what to expect by Elena and then we set off by motor towards the San Blas Islands. I wish I could remember the names of all the islands we visited, but they were all strange names that were translated into Spanish and then into English.

Generally, we drove around and then anchored up around certain islands that Elena knew or had deals with. When we parked up, there would almost always be Kuna people arriving in wooden kayaks carved from trees trying to sell some of the artisanal products or lobsters. We would then take a little dinghy from El Gitano to the island and do what we had to do. If it was daytime we could snorkel over the reefs and swim to the islands. You could walk around the islands and some had volleyball courts that you could use. Some islands had bars and houses, others were uninhabited. There was a huge variation in all the islands although they were basically the same deserted paradise islands.

One rule on the islands is that you can’t help yourself to coconuts even though there are a plethora of them everywhere. This is because this is one of the main sources of income for the Kuna folk. Saying that, it’s still a nice feeling to climb a palm tree, catch your own coconut, cut her open and put some rum inside. So that’s what I did but I didn’t have any money on me. Rather than steal the coconut, which would have been very easy, I went to the family on the island to speak to them. I found two young guys and asked them but they sent me to their mum/gran. It seems the eldest female makes the decisions on the islands. The lady was in a wheelchair, very old and frail looking. She was sat under a plastic tarpaulin with enough room for her and her husband. It seemed as if they spent the day there relaxing and listening to a radio. The young guys would do the required work on the island which involved farming of foods and assisting the tourists.

I had made a flower out of a palm leaf, whilst relaxing on the beach earlier, so I offered this in return for the coconut. The lady smiled with joy when she saw the flower and agreed straight away. I stayed for a bit to talk to them before the young guys came over to see the flower. I was surprised that they didn’t know how to make anything from palm leaves seeing as they were surrounded by them and pretty much only them. So I showed the guys how to make the flower so maybe in the future they could make them and use them to pick up gringo girls. I mean make them and use them to sell to tourists who came to their island. I hope they remember how to make the flower because they did seem a tad drunk when I showed them.

During the evening we would return to El Gitano to have dinner on the boat apart from one night where the crew cooked on a fire on the beach. We would always return to the islands after dinner to party at a bar with the locals and other boats that might be in the vicinity. It seems as the Kuna’s living on the islands like to drink and party and probably do it every time there is a boatload of tourists on their island. This could be a daily occurrence, especially during the busy season which it wasn’t whilst I was there. During the busy season there are probably more people daily, and much bigger parties happening.

When we decided to return to the boat to sleep, everyone would go off to their cabins whilst I would stay outside and sleep on a cushion somewhere. In the morning, I would wake up fresh as a daisy, whereas everyone else would be complaining about how hot and stuffy it was. And when it rained they had to close their windows and it became unbearable. Fortunately, I had found a little corner with enough protection from the wind and rain to sleep like a log every night. On the third night, the captain woke up at 5am and we started the two day trip for Colombia, leaving the San Blas Islands behind.

Once we left the islands behind, we headed northeast and it was just pure ocean until we reached Cartagena in Colombia. There was potential for very rough seas and a very rocky crossing. One girl had been seasick from just floating around the Islands so it could prove to be very interesting. Fortunately for us, the seas were very calm according to the crew but the waves were still fairly large and there was a lot of movement in the boat. Lots of drugs were taken by everyone to counteract the sea sickness but I didn’t have any. I tried to fight it for a day but completely lost my appetite and eventually took someone’s pills to ease my stomach. Ironically the girl who was sick before, was in the best shape she had been the whole trip and it was her boyfriend who was chundering over the edge of the boat. In total only 2 people were sick so it was a successful crossing in that sense.

I had been helping the crew out with a lot of the sailing chores including putting up and taking down the two sails. Seeing as we sailed from 5am until midday the following day, the crew needed to work and sleep in shifts. That meant they needed help sometimes and especially when we entered the culo de pollo or the chicken’s butt. The chicken’s butt is the name of a windy storm that comes out of nowhere. Try to imagine what the fronds look like at the top of a palm tree in a very strong wind, similar to that of the feathers on a chickens butt. That’s where the name comes from.

Anyway, when the culo de pollo arrived no one wanted to help out so it was down to me again. That involved trying to take the mainsail down very quickly before the wind caught it and capsized us. This was good fun seeing as I struggled to navigate myself around the boat normally, let alone in strong winds, torrential rains and bouncing over larger waves. It only took two minutes to take the sail down and bag it up but it wouldn’t matter if it took ten. Within the first ten seconds I was wetter than an otter’s pocket. I saw this as an opportunity for a free shower, which they didn’t have on the boat other than a hose to rinse off the salt water.

That was about as much action as we had for the whole crossing and the storm only lasted about 15 minutes. Other than that, most of the time was spent in the netting at the front of the catamaran between the two hulls. It was a perfect spot to chill, relax and look out for dolphins. The following morning I woke up just before sunrise and had the pleasure of seeing the sunrise from the horizon. As the morning drew on, some islands came into view and then so did the mainland. Once Cartagena became visible, I have to admit I was disappointed. It was a skyline of high rise buildings and skyscrapers and it wasn’t what I was expecting.

Arriving at Cartagena, we parked the boat up amongst many other boats and started to unload ourselves and our belongings onto the mainland via the dinghy. Via various taxis, we all made our way to the same hostal where we would wait for our passports whilst the captain took them to immigration. During my time in Cartagena I suffered some bad luck. Within minutes of arriving the main shoulder strap from my backpack had snapped off at the point of no fixing. I lost my bank card when staying in the first hostal I went too and remembered putting it in the locker. And thirdly, I fell down and open drain hole.

Firstly, my backpack was in near perfect condition and I liked it a lot. But it was a little small and a squeeze everytime I moved from place to place. So a blessing in disguise, I found a decent new one with a little more space and slightly better features. Secondly, after searching the locker 5 times and completely emptying my backpack, I searched the locker one last time. My card had fallen from the top locker, down the back and into the empty bottom locker. And thirdly, I fell down a drain hole, I should have watched where I was going. Mainly just bruised pride and a couple of scratches so no big deal.

Cartagena’s a bit of a nothing city, it has a lot of history but is not very exciting or a place you would want to spend more than a couple of days. The group from the boat therefore dispersed fairly quickly as people headed for different locations. I decided to head up the coast, past Santa Marta, with an American dude from the boat. He was heading to the number 2 hostel in Latin America and number 1 in Colombia. The way he described it sounded good so I thought I would join him.

El Rio is the hostal and it is situated in a small town called Buritaca. All the towns along this coast generally form around the river and its mouth. It is a small town with what you need and not a lot more. There is no internet or Wifi, and the shops have limited everything. Up from the main road and away from the coast, the land turns to mountainous jungle. This is where you can find El Rio hostal, on the side of the River Buritaca that winds through the hills. The hostal does everything very well and has only been there for a year and a half. The daytime is generally chilled and relaxed and then at night the atmosphere is more that of a party. Activities are available during the day, and games are played at night in the bar. You can organise hikes, tours, trips and excursions via the hostal too.

The first night I spent in a dorm room because there wasn’t sufficient light to put my hammock up. The second night I put it up just up the river in a secluded spot. Unfortunately, the second night was a pub quiz night which involved two winners, one for knowledge and one for the most drinks consumed. Our team won both prizes courtesy of my drinking efforts and a few random guesses that I made. The outcome was that I ended sleeping on the beach next to the river and didn’t make it to my hammock in the end. In fact, with the rains up the mountain, the river rose and I had to make an escape for the communal hammocks in the hostal.

The third night I called it a night at around 3am and made my way to my hammock. It was dark because of my secluded location but I couldn’t find it even though I was sure I was looking in the right place. I went back for a light and then went looking again. I was looking in the right place but my hammock was gone. It wasn’t an easy task to remove either. The person had to take down the mosquito net and the hammock and it’s hardly small and inconspicuous. Either way I was left bedless again and had to use the communal hammocks for another night.

I was planning to stay here for three nights but ended up staying for a fourth. On the afternoon of the day of departure, I was waiting for a friend who had my valuables in his locker. I had to wait for an hour then I would leave and head up the coast a bit more. In this hour, I was talking to one of the workers and she was saying how they need to find a volunteer in the next 2 days. For some reason I offered and since then I have been volunteering at El Rio. I will be mostly working in the bar but once a week I have to work a meal time shift. The food here is very good with a couple of English classics on the menu. All the food is homemade including all the breads and even the salmon and bacon is home-smoked.

El Rio is a very English hostal in the sense that it has two English owners and the guests sometimes make you feel like you on a private school holiday. There are other nationalities here but a huge majority are English. This means it will be a good spot to watch the world cup as it will feel like being back in the UK. Apart from the tropical heat and jungle surrounding me, but the atmosphere will be similar. So far, I have made an amazing choice and have enjoyed watching most of the games. The best was the last 16 match between Colombia and England. Fifty percent of the crowd was English and the fifty percent weren’t, which means they were supporting Colombia. With well over 100 people crammed around the big screen, the game was amazing to watch.

I will have to work 6 hours a day, 5 days a week and in return, I will be provided with 3 meals a day and a place to sleep. With its location being so good, I will be able to explore the area on my days off. I also get free hostals in other areas courtesy of El Rio and discounts, if not free, on hikes and tours around the area. So far I have done a few of these but would like to explore more. I did a 12 hour excursion of which 8 hours was hiking and a lot of that was uphill. The destination for this hike was an indigenous village in the jungle. We passed a thermal spring for a hot shower and a school on top of a mountain, but when we arrived I wasn’t expecting what I saw. The Argentina vs Nigeria game in a café/shop with pool tables and Smirnoff Ice for sale.

There were lots of indigenous people walking around but it was a very western world they were living in. We met the chief of the village who took us to the real indigenous village that had stuck to its cultures. It was 5 minutes up the river and was built on land given back to the people by the government. They had the wooden built cabins scattered across the hills and gardens in designated areas. There was plenty of food growing and they were growing spices to go with it. Some of the plants, the women were not allowed to touch. The people had a lot of strange cultures which split men from women and stopped women from doing certain things. It was interesting to see these cultures and learn about them but because of the distance we had walked, we had to head back to El Rio fairly sharpish.

I am hoping to do some more hikes in the future and explore the deserts that are further north in La Guajira or Punta Gallinas. But at the moment I will stay at El Rio for the rest of the world cup and then head on afterward. So far Colombia has been a country of nice people and partying. I am yet to head to the main cities too so I look forward to what they have to offer. I have a friend from London who will be joining me in Colombia in August too, so hopefully we will get the opportunity to meet up somewhere. But as for now, I will say cheerio.