The Monkey Revolution

Well once again I have gotten lost in the turmoil of traveling and neglected my blog for a bit longer than anticipated. I apologize. Now that that´s out of the way, let´s see if I can get things up to do date...

Salento turned out to be a beautiful, low key mountain town up in the Colombian Andes. It had provided us with some familiar comforts we had been badly missing, such as nice soft beds and delicious pizza. Of course that´s not really our style, so we were quick to toss these aside in turn for a butt breaking horse back ride and a spine straining backpack trip. We arranged the horse ride through an incomprehensible local with one remaining tooth, and his equally odd looking son led us down the road and out to a hidden waterfall a couple hours ride away. I am very much a novice on the animal, and this was Vivianas first time, so we got more than our $10 worth with the steep muddy slopes, dark tunnels, and river crossings. The way back was even more harrowing as the horses slipped and lurched up a narrow, and incredibly muddy, horse trail up a steep hill. The day after the horse trip we decided it might be better to rest our bruised asses and do our backpacking trip into the Valle de Cocora by foot. The first hour wound along a river through picturesque old farmland dotted with wax palms, a local palm tree noted for its especially long, thin trunk. The next section was dense cloud forest, and this we remember for the numerous sketchy bridge crossings, slowly inching with our maxed out backpacks along a couple of small trees felled across the river. After 7 such crossings we arrived at a small house where the overseer of the area resides with his wife. The house was swarmed by more hummingbirds than I had ever seen in my life, including one with a 4 inch beak (Swordbill), and another one with a 6 inch emerald green tail (Long Tailed Sylph). The next two nights we set up our tent on the second floor inside an unfinished barn and passed the evening cooking our meals on the balcony with a great view of the treetops. We were able to catch a few other birds on the trail including an Elegant Trogon and a Pava. After two nights we climbed back out and started south for the hidden tombs of Tierradentro.

Tierradentro is located a 5 hour, bumpy, landslide-strewn bus ride east of Popayan off the pan-american. The town is very small and quiet, and an afternoon of drinking beer by the soccerfield offered us a view of the country life as kids played soccer, horses ran free, and old women gossiped in their doorways. The second day we hiked up and explored the tombs of Aguacate, a series of holes in the ground that lead to ancient tombs of unknown origin. They are all laid out in a line on the crest of a large hill and it makes for a rather eerie experience, especially when you turn on your headlamp and see the plethora of insect life clinging to the walls. We spent only a couple nights here and felt Ecuador pulling us toward it (ironic since there is less gravitational pull there than anywhere else on our trip).

It should be noted that the pan-american highway is not just I-5 for 27000 miles. In Colombia the road is a small undivided 2 lane road winding through turns that prompt the drivers to hand out vomit bags before each journey. The section from Pasto to Ipiales turned out to be the worst that I have experienced so far on my trip. It was only one hour, but the entire time we were clutching our seats in horror as the bus driver consistently passed cars over double lines along sharp blind turns, all while going up to 85kph in the 20kph zone. Of course none of the other passengers blinked an eye at his suicidal manouveres, but I just can´t seem to get used to the insane drivers in Latin America.

We ran off the bus in Ipiales and decided we should thank the higher powers for delivering us safely before we left the country, so we caught a cab over to Santuario Las Lajas, a gorgeous gothic style church spanning a river gorge. The church was exceptional with hundreds of followers in mass when we arrived, but its powers were not strong enough to protect us from the devils true face: the Colombian border security. Viviana had only received a 30 day visa when she entered Colombia, and she had overstayed by two days. In order to receive an exit visa they were trying to charge a $150 fine (I had paid $5 for overstaying my C4 visa in Nicaragua). As we argued for a lower fee we were approached by some interesting characters saying they had ´special connections´ and could get the stamp for half the price. After over an hour of debating we went with the private contractor and a nerve racking taxi ride to the ATM along with another hour of arguing got us the visa for a mere $130 (hmm...). Needless to say we were happy to cross the imaginary, yet laborious line into Ecuador.

In Ecuador we headed straight to Quito, where we spent a few days visiting the local sights and getting a feel for the new culture. We saw a number of churches, including the Basilica del Voto Nacional (a gothic church with gargoyles of turtles, anteaters, iguanas, and other local animals), and the Iglesia Santo Domingo (with twisted paintings of sheep licking up Christs blood, among others). We also made a short trip to the tourist attraction of La Mitad del Mundo, to pass an hour or so hopping between hemispheres. Five relaxing days in Quito prepared us for more adventure, so we went to Quitos´ incredibly new and spacious bus terminal and made our way towards Latacunga.



Before arriving in Latacunga we stopped at Volcan Cotopaxi, a monstrous volcano topped by an expansive glacier. Transportation there was expensive and difficult, so we camped for a night and continued on. After one night in the state capitol of Latacunga we took a detour up to Laguna Quilotoa, an emerald green laguna up in a remote section of the Andes. We hiked a good distance around the lagoon and laughed at the llamas before coming back to Latacunga for the Feria de la Mama Negra, an indigenous festival masked as an homage to the catholic Virgen Mercedes. The festival was unlike any I had ever seen, and the whole thing took place as a long parade that lasted 8 hours (two rotations of 4 hours). It could be divided into
about 50 smaller units, each one starting with a group of costumed dancers, then a band, and followed up by the towns strongest man carrying a wooden backpack with an entire roast pig, about 12 roast chickens, 10 roast guinea pigs, and maybe 15 bottles of liquor tied on. The whole contraption was so big he had to be followed by two guys with a table, and when he needed rest they would set the table down and he could sit the backpack down on it for a minute, then lumber forward and start again. In addition to the pig backpack, there was also a shaman within each unit. He would select random members from the crowd, including myself, twice, and rub herbs in their face, then spit alcohol all over them in a sort of smelly baptism. All along the parade were people handing out free shots of local homemade alcohol, and we did not hesitate to partake. Unfortunately I may have indulged a bit much, and the evening ended a bit sour as someone snatched my camera during my drunken arm in arm dance through a tower of fireworks. How could I have known...?

Continuing along the trail we stopped in the tourist center of Baños for some rafting and late night partying. We floated down the Pastaza river with about 170 other people in a tribute to a local guide that had recently lost his life to the same river. That night we barbecued trout with the local raft guides we had met, and then danced until our legs hurt. A couple of drunken nights and hangover filled days in Baños and we were ready to slow things down with a little volunteer work in nearby Puyo.

Puyo is a town on the edge of the Ecuadorian Amazon, and for the last week we have been shacked up with about 70 primates at the Paseo de los Monos monkey reserve. It is a refuge and rehabilitation center for monkeys, coatis, and birds, and along with 4 other volunteers and a couple of full time employees we have been taking care of the mischievious little creatures. Taking care of monkeys consists of cutting up fruit, getting your hair pulled, cleaning up dishes, getting your ankles bitten, making new informational brochures, and yanking dueling monkeys off your head.
Despite the numerous bruises and teeth marks, it has been a blast. There are seven species of monkeys at the reserve, and the vast majority run free in the forest, coming to the house to eat and play. If you are near the house, no more than 5 minutes will pass before some monkey comes up and tries to climb on you or swing from your arms. Two days ago was an especially eventful day at the reserve. It began with news that Ecuadors president, Rafeal Correa, had recently been taken out of power by a military coup upset about salary changes. This also implied that there was no active police force in all of Ecuador, and rioting had already begun in the capitol and the largest city, Guayaquil. While processing the implications of this information, it started to rain outside and I noticed the trees were blowing a bit more than normal outside. Soon there came a gust of wind that lasted all of 30 to 40 seconds (literally), but knocked down 5 trees on the property, including one that hit the back of the house and crushed the cage that housed the most dangerous animal on the reserve (a very ornery amazonian Coati with nasty incisors). Before we had even assessed the damage we were out by the cage, trying to keep the angry animal inside the cage with a stick while we repaired the torn open area with wire mesh. Despite the disasters at the reserve and the turmoil with the president, by the end of the next day the animal was safe at home, and the Coati was back in his cage as well.

Today we decide our next move. We would like to go up into the Peruvian Amazon to the city of Iquitos, but since we are not using airplanes, and there are no roads to Iquitos, this would mean a 6 day boat trip to arrive, and then 5 days to return. While the next move is unsure, at least we can look forward to a little piece and quiet from our biting, fighting, tree-dwelling neighbors.