At the Triple border - Peru, Colombia and Brazil

For two days, Xavi and I sailed down the Amazon River on a cargo ship after leaving Iquitos - sleeping in our hammocks, reading books and chatting with the locals. This ship ride was as eventful as the previous ones - with hammocks piling on top of each other, babies crying, amazing river views from the misty mornings to the cloudy sunsets and all sorts of goods and animals being transported (including some screeching pigs). Being election weekend in Peru, many people were heading to their communities to vote since those who do not vote are fined. This meant that the little ship was even more packed than usual.

Hammock upon hammock

Misty morning along the Amazon River

We passed by several little settlements along the river and the ship stopped at quite a few of them, allowing people to get on or off and unload goods hailing from the city. Along the way, I noticed a number of evangelical churches in these tiny communities, each with a name more complicated and bombastic than the previous one. I wonder why these sects flock to the Amazon and why each sect felt the need to open a new church with a different name for what is basically the same religion. In one of the larger of such evangelical communities, the residents seemed to be dressed in biblical clothing. Whilst skinny men suffered to drag the unloaded goods up a steep hill, a couple of strong looking horses stood nearby munching grass. I guess logic is not preached in this community.

Getting all Biblical

The 'Evangelical Association for the Israelite Mission of the New Universal Pact'... What?

This part of the Amazon Basin is practically flat so one can see far into the distance. It is stunning to see a mixture of blue sky and storms at the same time. Indeed at one point I could observe lighting and huge rain clouds in two or three distant areas whilst enjoying the rays of the sun. Apart from the few human settlements and some ‘beaches’ formed by the low river, the trees seem to go on forever. This is the jungle I love, bursting with life provided by nature.

Clouds in the distance and trees lining up into eternity

We eventually arrived to the little Peruvian village of Santa Rosa. Just across the river, we could see both Leticia (Colombia) and Tabatinga (Brazil) which are attached to each other. It is hard to tell the difference between the two towns (and countries) from Santa Rosa. In Santa Rosa, we got an exit stamp for Peru on our passports and crossed the river on a little boat to arrive in Leticia. Colombia has been an important country for me for several years, in particular during the last two years of my life due to my job as a refugee lawyer at the Ecuadorian border with Colombia. This part of the country, being very isolated and unconnected by road to the rest of the country, has thankfully avoided the effects of the internal conflict that have plagued several other Colombian jungle areas, making Leticia and surrounding villages very safe. 

The Peruvian cargo ship in Santa Rosa, with Colombia and Brazil in the background across the Amazon River

  

Whilst looking for a place where to sleep that night, I was attracted to a house converted into a hostel. What caught my attention was the homemade sign saying ‘hostel’ outside. That is how we ended up staying at the Apaporis Hostel, owned by the fascinating Elisabeth – an anthropologist whose mother is indigenous and her father a Spanish former diplomat. Evening conversations with Elizabeth gave some fascinating insight into the indigenous communities in the south of Colombia. She also shared amusing anecdotes from her rebellious past.

Brazil is just a short walk away from the centre of Leticia but there is a huge change as one crosses the border. Apart from hearing a different language and suddenly seeing signs written in Portuguese, it is impossible to ignore that Leticia is a well-taken care of pleasant town whilst Tabatinga is rather run-down. Both towns still had posters from the recent World Cup and one could only imagine the rivalry in the street acting as a border during the Brazil vs. Colombia World Cup match. At the border, many people invite you to change money so it is best to shop around for the best exchange rate.

Crossing the road - the border between Colombia and Brazil

You know that you're in Brazil because Homer is now Homero

Xavi and I decided to spend some days in the area but, despite liking the charm of Leticia, we wanted to go back into a more natural part of the jungle. We therefore opted to head back up the Amazon River by boat to the smaller Colombian town of Puerto Nariño. Before leaving Leticia, we got a Colombian entry stamp on our passports at the Leticia airport, passing by the pleasant little local university surrounded by trees.

We caught a passenger boat that took us about one and a half hours back up the Amazon, passing by a few indigenous communities along the way, until we finally arrived at Puerto Nariño. As with other communities in the area, this little town is only accessible by boat. Once again, I was struck by how well-kept this isolated town in the Colombian part of the Amazon is. Along the pedestrian-only streets are wooden boards where the (strangely written) news of the day is hung up. The talk of the town focused on a boat accident along the Amazon River where a young girl got killed. Two boats without lights collided in the darkness at about 4am, a time when small boats are prohibited from travelling along the river. The young girl was on a school outing with several other children on one of the two boats.

A view of Puerto Nariño

No news is good news - the news boards of Puerto Nariño

Whilst walking through the streets of Puerto Nariño, we came across a wooden hostel called ‘Ayahuasca Hostel’, owned by a thin suntanned man called Armando. We decided to stay there and soon began chatting with the owner. Armando was open about his difficult past and explained how living with indigenous communities in the Colombian department of Putumayo saved him and helped him get his life back onto a positive path. He is now in his 50s now but seems to be very healthy and strong. An architect by profession, Armando designed the wooden hostel himself and the final result is a very pleasant three storey structure with a view of the river. He also started to cultivate fruits, vegetables and some plants known amongst indigenous communities of the jungle for their healing abilities. Glenn, a young Australian musician, was the only other guest at the hostel. He had been there for a few weeks, finally finding a place surrounded by nature where he could peacefully continue exploring his personal spiritual path. He was actually considering buying a little plot of land where to build a wooden house of his own and stay in the Colombian jungle for as long as he needed to.

The view from Armando´s hostel

 

In the garden around the hostel, Armando also grows the ayahuasca vine (its technical name is ‘Banisteriopsis caapi’) and a shrub that the indigenous communities in the region call chacruna (its technical name is ‘Psychotria viridis’). The drink obtained through cooking the vine and chacruna leaves together is used by shamans in many indigenous communities as a powerful cleansing medicine. A ceremony where the ayahuasca (or ‘yage’, as it is known in Colombia) is drunk is considered as a purifying and spiritual event by indigenous communities and gives powerful visions. I had already come across such practices by indigenous communities in the Ecuadorian jungle. In particular, I had met a shaman from the Secoya indigenous community (whom people claim is 104 years old) known for his powerful healing abilities through the use of medicinal plants and ayahuasca ceremonies in particular.

The spiritual cleansing experience of an ayahuasca ceremony tends to attract a lot of persons from Western countries. Nevertheless, it is important that this is done under the guidance of a genuine, experienced and honest shaman. Unfortunately, ayahuasca ceremonies are being strongly commercialised nowadays, with its spiritual significance (or hallucinatory effects) appealing to people with very little or no understanding of the indigenous communities and their rituals. The call of money has tempted many false or bad shamans to try and maximise profits by taking advantage of gullible tourists and, at times, placing their health at risk. Since there is no university for shamans or degrees they can show you (being a shaman comes through years of learning, practice and a spiritual way of life), it is hard for a traveller to know if he or she is in the presence of a genuine shaman, or a person (possibly trained as a shaman but blinded by money) trying to trade hallucinations for money.

In Iquitos, I had met an older German woman with a lot of life experience, who seemed to have got duped by someone claiming to be a shaman. This so-called shaman had asked her to pay a lot of money up-front for several ceremonies, and then asked for even more money to try to ‘spiritually communicate with her son’ who lives in the United States. I suppose that the tell-tales signs of whether a shaman is genuine or not is if you get the sense that he is trying to squeeze money out of you and if he seems to be offering things (at a high price) which you can sense he cannot deliver. Looking around in Ecuador, Peru and Colombia, a fair price for an ayahuasca ceremony would be something between 35 and 50 USD. I consider that to be a fair price since the preparation of the drink requires several hours of work and the shaman will also have to stay up with you all night during the ceremony. Honest shamans will tell you to wait a number of days between each ayahuasca ceremony whilst dishonest ones will try to make as much money as possible from your time in the area and may suggest drinking the ayahuasca once every two or three days. 

An ayahuasca ceremony can indeed be a powerful cleansing and introspective experience, but before undertaking such a journey it is important to be really ready and to find the right guide. Simply arriving into the jungle and wanting to attend a ceremony without understanding the context and the community you are in is a naïve approach which could get you into trouble or ripped off from your money. It is good to look around first, do much background reading, and ask for advice to locals whom you find to be trust-worthy. Whilst Armando is not the typical shaman and is not of indigenous background, a number of lengthy talks found him to be an honest person who understands the healing power of ayahuasca.

Our days in Puerto Nariño were spent roaming through the surrounding jungle, swimming in the Amazon River, seeing dolphins jump around in the river and visiting nearby by indigenous communities. After countless attempts, Xavi actually managed to catch a fish for the first time (a mean-looking piranha which was then thrown back into the water). Nevertheless, the return to Leticia by boat was the biggest adventure of them all. The 4pm passenger boat from Puerto Nariño to Leticia left much later than scheduled (soon before sunset) and about twenty minutes after the departure, its only engine stopped working. We were stranded in the powerful currents of the Amazon River and with no communities in the area. To make matters worse, there was no light on board this boat that was carrying about 60 passengers, nor was there a radio to allow us to call for help. 

Swimming in the Amazon River at sunset

Fishing for piranhas (and then letting them go)

As we were dangerously drifting along the river, I remembered the story of the young girl who had been killed in very similar circumstances (a boat sailing along the river in total darkness). Ironically, the very same owner of the boat we were on had denied on local newspapers any blame for that accident. Those words now seemed as false and empty as the pre-election promises of a corrupt politician. It was unacceptable that our boat had no light and no radio if it found itself in distress after sunset. Darkness quickly engulfed us as the boat kept on drifting without control down the river. Thankfully, a close to full moon kept on providing light. The boat driver somehow managed to keep the boat from crashing against the banks of the river. As time passed, we became a bit tenser due to the realisation that this was no joke. The tension did not prevent the Colombian passengers from seeing the funny side of this absurd situation. A passenger managed to reach someone by mobile phone, miraculously detecting a signal for a brief moment. In order to emphasise to the person on the other side of the line that we were in danger, he asked us to scream in a dramatic way – so we gave our best scream and plead for help… before bursting into laughter. Only a Brazilian woman seemed not to see the funny side of things and kept on shouting that we were all going to die. 

The evening became night and we were still drifting until a patrol boat headed towards us. We were initially scared that we would not be seen in the darkness, so many passengers turned on their mobile phones to create some light. The patrol boat seemed to move on past us so once again we gave our melodramatic screams for help (followed by the obligatory laughter – only to shout “No no we REALLY need help!” once the officers about the patrol boat thought we were taking the piss). The ordeal finally ended about an hour later, once the patrol boat pulled our passenger boat to the port of Leticia. I was expecting an uproar by the passengers on arrival but no one filed a complaint or said anything even remotely aggressive to the crew of the passenger boat. Everyone started to walk to the centre of town, so we did the same, thankful to be back on land in one piece.

After enjoying another day and a half in Leticia (highlights included a visit to a museum on indigenous communities of the Amazon and seeing the birds fly to the trees in huge groups at sunset), Xavi and I got on a Brazilian cargo ship leaving from Tabatinga and heading towards Manaus. I was surprised to find such little information about these ships in both Tabatinga and Leticia. I finally managed to get the information that there are two cargo ships per week leaving from Tabatinga (on Wednesdays and Saturdays) that take three days to arrive in Manaus. We once again got our passports stamped (out from Colombia and into Brazil). The Brazilian cargo ship was much more comfortable and clean than the ones in Peru – yet I missed that more rustic feeling of those Peruvian boats and their stops at the tiny communities along the river. Just one thing remained the same: we still had loads of people hanging their hammocks over our hammocks and all over the place. These were to be our last three days sailing down the Amazon River.

The Brazilian cargo ship heading to Manaus