There are moments when it's hard to imagine that the diverse topography of Ecuador's micro-climates exist in the same country. From the unlikely verdure of the Amazon Rainforest to the volcanic peaks of the Andes and the still burgeoning islands of the Galapagos, Ecuador's unique geography and relationship to the equator gives it the widest range of biodiversity on the planet and the stewardship of a landmass integral to the survival of all human life.
But I'm not writing a Lonely Planet Guide to Ecuador here. So, I'll just speak from my experience:
Over the course of ten days, I drank Tree Tomatoe, Blackeberry, and Passionfruit juices (all fresh), slept on a banana leaf in the jungle, climbed the highest peak in Ecuador (Fuya Fuya, 14,000 ft.) ate manioch root (yuca) on more than one occasion and in several different forms (mostly boiled, served on a banana leaf) haggled an ottavalean for an alpaca poncho, journeyed with sacred plants of the Amazon, was beaten (thoroughly) with stinging nettles while naked, shared dreams and guayusa tea at 4:00 am., combined various forms of natural bug repellants in an effort to thwart the Mosquito without the use of DEET the super-pesticide but was myself thwarted by the super-mosquitoes of the Amazon made bold by hot days and high moisture, snorted tobacco juice beneath a sacred waterfall, and searched with zeal for the dessert they call torta tres leches. Not necessarily in that order.
I'm completing this entry nearly one month after our trip to the rainforest, and to say that the experience is still integrating and working itself into my being would be an vast understatement. In fact, Lynne suggested as an exercise, that we share our stories with any and everyone who desired to hear of them, and I've found that as I've recounted the details time after time for to numerous people, minutiae of the emotional and spiritual experience continue to reveal themselves. The nuance of Achuar culture becomes more and more profound, the devotion of Maria Juana's shamanic practice feels increasingly more intimate, and the call to embody Earth Wisdom and Listening is ever more present.
Many friends have asked what the Rainforest was like; could I describe it to them? Certainly there are lots of trees. Lots of trees. Did I see any monkeys? Or jaguars? What was the weather like? Did the bugs bother me?
My response to the question is probably dissatisfying, for the Rainforest is many things and nothing all at once; it reflects primarily that which the seeker looks to find. For the Achuar, the jungle is Life itself, arutam, the spirit of the Earth. It provides all things an Achuar could ever possibly need, and has for millennia. For the Achuar, the Rainforest is their creator, their preserver, and their destroyer, sacred beyond description and vast beyond comprehension.
In its fullness, the rainforest embodies the essence of abundance. The sheer quantity of organic life is unfathomable and continues to express itself in an increasingly diverse panoply of joy. Yet the Rainforest is constantly changing, and the process of birth, life, death, decay, and rebirth is accelerated because of the mycellial layer that blankets the forest floor, which acts as a micro-composter. In this way, the Rainforest embodies impermanence and emptiness.
The Rainforest is also fragile and complex. One can see the insidious destruction caused by mono-agriculture and oil development. Clear-cutting of the rainforest devastates the eco-system to the point of cataclysm and little can be done to restore it without huge funds and support, neither of which are at the ready for many Amazonian countries. Thus, the work of the Pachamama Alliance and countless other conservation/social justice/indigenous rights NGOs.
The rainforest reflects primarily that which the seeker looks to find.
I went looking for individual death and expansion of vision. In the vastness of the Rainforest's ethos, it gobbled up anything I could think to throw at it or conceptualize about it. During the natem journey in Wahyusentza, the physical anguish the plant brought on spoke like the compassionate master beating his student into liberation. I was overcome by nausea, fever, chills, and incredible muscular tension, and beneath the cloud-covered sky, the moon shone threw and the rainforest waited. The purge was spiritual and emotional on a level that my mind could not quite grasp. In fact, every time my mind tried to grasp anything at all, I was racked by an insatiable impulse to vomit. The invitation was to witness the dissolution of my body. The impulse was to suffer fearlessly and intensely and find out who I was when I stopped identifying as the sufferer. And the rainforest waited and the moon shone.
For me, the rainforest exemplified the abiding presence of the Universe. In the same way that the hustle and bustle of a city can overwhelm and buzz and sleep soundly at night, the rainforest watches as its citizens and devotees sing and dance and rest.
