10/16/2023
3:00 p.m. After placing our second camera, we begin the brisk journey home.
Due to the lack of precipitation over the past few days, Agapito has taken it upon himself to burn every Huicungo, a common tree in the Peruvian rainforest, that we’ve walked past today. In Maijuna culture, it’s believed that burning these trees can bring rain when it’s needed most, owing to the rain-like sound Huicungos make when they burn.
As the crackling of the tree begins, we hear him shouting “Lluvia, lluvia, lluvia!” His methods are working. The sky begins to darken fast, and we hear the sound of intense thunder in the distance. Agapito emerges from behind us and with a wide smile he simply states, “Lluvia,” or rain.
Brian glances at the team, and we can sense the urgency. “It’s about to rain buckets; we need to move,” he says. The next two hours are a frenzy of fast walking, boots drowning in mud, sideways winds, the sound of falling trees and soaking wet raincoats.
5:00 p.m. Finally back at camp, we assess the damage of Agapito’s much-needed storm. Despite our collective effort to secure rain flies, some tents are now ponds. Nylon is no match for an Amazonian rainstorm. Adding to the post-storm spectacle, a once-mighty 20-meter tree lies fallen. A stroke of luck places it neatly between our two clusters of tents. It’s a precarious situation, yet we greet it with laughter, a testament to the team’s indomitable spirit.
Tired, I begin to settle in for the night. First comes the river bath party where we wash off all the dirt and mud from the day, only to cover ourselves in mud once again when we clamber out of the river. Next, we eat a hardy meal of rice, plantains and the day’s catch: majás, a lowland paca or small rodent, courtesy of the Maijuna’s morning hunt.
7:00 p.m. Finally, I climb back onto my sleeping pad and begin the slow process of falling asleep. Despite the challenges each day brings, I feel so lucky to embrace it all again tomorrow.
