Picking up where we left off, after spending a night under the vast Amazonian sky, I finally drifted into sleep just as dawn began to break. The Brazilian summer is nothing short of scorching, and the rainforest’s humidity feels like a relentless embrace with no escape—let alone any semblance of connectivity or entertainment. In the dead of night, our indigenous guide circled the camp multiple times with a torch, skillfully smoking the area to ward off lurking wild animals.
The following morning, our tour guide led us to the riverbank for a refreshing wash. Miraculously, he produced a few eggs from somewhere, and the group erupted in cheers as if we were castaways like Robinson Crusoe and Friday, discovering precious bird eggs in the wilderness.
On our return journey, we continued paddling through the waters, marveling at the ancient trees that towered above us—truly colossal giants of nature. Even all four of us together couldn’t encircle one of these majestic trunks by holding hands. Our fearless guide would fearlessly scale these towering behemoths, dart into the dense jungle, and always reemerge with fascinating treasures: a venomous spider, a slithering snake, or a vibrant flower, proving that this line of work demands not only courage but years of experience [laughter].
As we neared the camp, the guide turned around and playfully asked who dared to take the plunge into the mighty Amazon River. My mind raced back to the previous day when we caught and feasted on piranhas, releasing a baby crocodile back into its domain. Karma, it seemed, had come knocking—it was now our turn.
My teammate eagerly volunteered first, leaving me speechless as I gazed skyward, silently resigning myself not to intervene (she’d been harboring a grudge ever since I stopped her from jumping into the frigid Antarctic seas, and I certainly didn’t want to remind her of her age). Before allowing anyone to jump, the guide meticulously inspected each person for open wounds, knowing full well that even a drop of blood could attract unwelcome visitors, much like sharks in the ocean.
Despite being seventy years young, my teammate splashed boldly into the river, becoming the first to do so. Honestly, the water was murky beyond belief—you couldn’t see a thing. My mind swirled with thoughts of piranhas and crocodiles lurking beneath the surface, though in broad daylight mid-river, my fears were likely unfounded.
Drenched and exhilarated, we clambered back onto the shore, where the local indigenous people greeted us with a bottle of their finest brew—a potent concoction allegedly distilled from venomous snakes. Already slightly tipsy, my enthusiastic teammate downed the first glass with gusto.
On the third day, as we made our way back, we finally encountered faint traces of human civilization. Our guide steered us toward a slightly larger settlement, where we were treated to an authentic indigenous performance and even swam alongside enchanting pink dolphins before being safely returned to Manaus.
This unforgettable adventure to the Amazon was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience, irreplaceable and profound. Each place I travel to serves as a poignant reminder of humanity’s insignificance amidst the grandeur of nature and the breathtaking beauty of life itself.
In the fleeting time we are given, finding meaning in our existence feels akin to declaring, “I, the Great Sage, have been here.”
