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Published: August 21st 2008
Ok...so I never really explained what was so great about Canaima and what exactly happened on that crazy 2 day trek from middle of no where in southern Venezuela to the coastal city of Cartagena, Colombia. I couldn´t possibly be able to explain it all...sadly I have yet to develop my memory into one that remembers every detail that is worth remembering. There are so many worth remembering! So many striking and marvelous moments, thoughts, observations, experiences that enter my consiousness and within hours are gone...well, not gone...just receded and pushed back into my unconsiousness by new thoughts, obervations, and experiences.
(At this point, I just want to apologize to all those anal spellers out there...especially any writers or English teachers...yes, I know...my spelling and grammar is messy and full of mistakes. I have accepted this as my reality. I acknowledge it and ask you to just read on anyway. Thanks!)
Ok, so anywayzzzz...as I was saying. I have decided to just go back into what is left of my memory of last week and record them here in a list of "Moments I don´t want to forget."
Ok...where do I start...I am literally in the internet cafe, closing my eyes while I type and try to concentrate and think back to last week...hmmmm...in no particular order....
Moment #1 = My first Cessna flight
It was the trip over the open savannas and river jungles of Southern Venezuela from Ciudad Bolivar to Canaima. I was scared but relaxed. My thinking was...just be calm, enjoy the ride. So many other tourists are doing the same thing everyday. It has to be safe. It was kinda like the first time as a little kid that you go on a "big ride" at an amusement park. Everybody else is doing it...it must be safe! However, the plane was tiny. As the tiniest of the passengers, I had to sit in the back with absolutely no leg room...knees to my chest style. When the pilot started the engine, it sounded like my old ´69 VW and felt like it too...like a toy plane. The pilot was a handsome guy...but super young. I found myself wanting to request one of the other "not so nice to look at but has more experience" older pilots. We took off and were suddenly up high! It was gorgeous up there...still close enough to the ground to see the terrain clearly...rivers, open plains, jungle, tepuis, waterfalls tumbling off the tepuis...rainstorms in the distance. Maravilloso! We landed safe and sound and all gave the pilot a hearty round of applause. Now for the next leg of this adventurous 3 day tour.
Moment #2 = The river up to and at Salto Angel
We arrived to what I call "The hammock camp" after a very fun 3 hour canoe ride upriver from Canaima to Salto Angel. For most of the speedy ride we were wet...and then soaked...like little wet gringo rats. First because of the water from the river that splashes on and over you...a few times we were all sure that one of us was headed over board! (Nah...our driver and guide knew what they were doing...silly fearful tourists thinking we know more than they do...how "know it all" of us.) Then we were all wet in our bathing suits after going swimming in a small waterfall during our lunch break. The final and most fun soaking occurred during the last hour of the canoe ride when the dark clouds rolled in and completely hid the hugemongous tepuis (that had been so clearly visible in front of us) and spontaneously unleashed a thunderstorm on top of our little but full conoe that was already struggling up the rushing river! There we were in our bathing suits, and rain ponchos trying to keep dry...it was totally futile. I finally just gave in accepted the soaking. It felt delicious.
When we arrived, all the other tourists in my group (there were 12 of us..2 Italians, 2 Germans, 3 Swiss, 2 French, and 3 United States persons with 3 indigenous male guides) rushed to the camp to dry off and get into warm clothes. It was twilight and the darkness, coolness, and worst of all...mosquitoes were coming. I however was not ready to leave the river. I stood at the edge of the camp, still in my bathing suit, not minding the rain, just trying to catch a glimpse of the mighty Salto Angel through the trees and clouds that was just on the other side of the river. Our guide Carlos finished unpacking our supplies from the canoe to the camp and saw me there still in my suit and wanting to go back to the river to see the Salto that we had all pilgramiged from so far to see. So we went. In the rain, thunder and lightning all around...at twilight with the sun disappearing. We went swimming in the red colored river. Red from the rare minerals that exist on top of the tepuis and wash off into the rivers, down the falls, and into the river we were swimming in. We sat in a little pool, stared directly up to the 1000m Salto Angel. We shared stories in our intermediate English and Spanish. Then we just sat and listened to the Salto in the distance, to the river we sat in, to the rain hit the water and join the river, and of course the might thunder all around and above us...reminding us who is boss. It most definalty is not us. 😊 After the goose bumps got the better of me, we went back to the camp and joined the rest of the group...just in time for a very yummy, family style dinner!
Moment #3 = The river back down to Canaima
It began with lots of fun! We were going down river now...with and not against the current. Faster! In certain rocky parts there was lots of white water and we got soaked! A couple of times waves from the river actually just completely covered most of me...it was like slow motion. Cold...but fun. I didn't have a rain poncho because I gave it to my little buddy...11 year old Alex from San Francisco. So I was WET! The sky was clear though and the sun kept me comfortable. So we bumped our way back down the river for the first half of the 3 hour ride. Until the clouds came in...and the wind...and the thunder with its friend lightning. And then last but certainly not least...the rain. Not just any rain. It was what I call "Machine gun" rain. You know...when you can feel each individual kamakazi rain drop slam down into your face and arms...any exposed skin... at what feels to be about 100 miles per hour. Yay...that kind of rain. It was diagonally falling with the wind. And it kept coming...millions of little kamakazi drops. There we all were...12 spoiled, high maintanence tourists...seated in 6 rows of 2 in the long wooden conoe...draped in ponchos or any plastic we could find to try and keep dry (absolutely pointless and futile)...all sitting with our heads bent down and our chests to our legs trying to hide our poor faces and exposed skin from that damn "Machine gun" rain. Good times. The rain was so thick and wounding that the driver of the canoe...standing at the back of the long conoe, facing forward, with hand on the motor that was behind him...had to hold with his free hand one of the huge wooden oars completely in front of his face...blocking his view but protecting his eyes from those bullet raindrops. To see where he was going, he had to peak his head out from behind the huge oar that he used as his protective barrier from the rain. Wish I could have gotten a photo of that moment. I will never forget that image...our driver peaking out from behind the oar every 2-3 seconds to see where he was going as he navigated and steered us down the rushing river at a high speed in the middle of the thunderstorm...with his 12 nervous tourist cargo hundled below and in front of him. Like I said...good times.
The worst part of it all was that I was COMPLETELY soaked to the bone and FREEZING in the wind...FREEZING as in teeth chattering, shivering, goose bumps the size of zits. FREEZING.
Towards the end of the trip is a part of the river that is too rough to go through with human cargo, so the driver stops, lets us off, goes through without us as we walk a half hour through the savanna grasses along a dirt road to meet him down the river. We did this coming up the river just fine...it was dry and hot...no rain or storm. This time was not so easy. You see...in the hour since the rain started, so much water had been dumped onto the land that the dirt road that was supposed to be our walking path to our meeting point was no longer a road...it was now its own rushing mini river. And I mean rushing. We had to cross it to get through to where we could try and walk...one of the Italians was not so successful. He slipped and fell in the current of the rushing rain water...right on his ass. Got all wet...oh wait, he already was...we all were. Soaked like wet gringo rats trudging our way through the grasslands, with heads down to avoid those bullet raindrops.
Then all of a sudden, we came over the small hill from the river bed to see in front of us another group of tourists...12 of the friendliest older Japanese folks I have ever met. They had the best rain gear on...were hardly wet at all. And they weren´t walking like we were! They were riding in a brightly painted yellow and black (what looked like an amusement park) train car that was being pulled by a huge tractor and driven by a little indegenous man along that "new river that used to be a road" road...in the middle of the open savanna in a thunder and lightning storm. Again...I wish I could have gotten a photo. So of course our group of 12 hops on to the little train too and got a ride to our canoe that was waiting for us down river. No more slipping and sliding our way through the savanna. 😊 Thank god for the little tractor guy. At this point my body temperature had dropped...I could feel it. Lips were blue...energy was low. Good thing we were near the town and our posada. I was COLD. Good times.
Moment #4 = Moto ride down the Canaima airstrip
We showered and changed in our own private rooms. No hot water, but anything was warm compared to that canoe ride in the thunder storm. The tour agency overbooked the posada, so we were given rooms at a posada that was on the other side of town from where the main posada was...which is where our dinner was. So we needed a ride to get back. There was was no more room on the big jeep that the rest of my group went on...so our guide Carlos came and picked me up on his dirt bike/motorcycle. I was surprised and a little nervous...I had never ridden on a motorcylce before! Oh well! First time for everything. So I hopped on the back and away we went! Weeeee!!! It was so much fun. I just held on and trusted he knew what he was doing. It was night...the moon and stars were turned on full blast...clouds cleared away after the storm and the night was fresh! We zoomed around on the dirt roads, weaving through the different parts of the town. Then we got to the towns airport and instead of continueing on in the direction of our dinner, Carlos turned the other way and headed toward the dark, deserted, closed aiport. I didn't say anything and off we zoomed at full speed ahead...down that airstrip, under the full moon and stars, the town behind us. I let go of him and just sat back on the speedind moto, head back, hair loose in the wind, arms spread out like wings! It felt like we were our own tiny cessna trying to take off into the air. We never actually left the ground, but it sure felt like we did. Good times. 😊
Moment #5 = Saturday night at the club...Canaima style
Most of our group was tired and went to bed. But not all of us. A couple doors down from our posada was Canaimas happening night life and it was a Saturday night! It was time to party. 😊 So off we walked down the dirt road, past the tiny cement block houses lit up with lights and televisions...families grouped inside and outside relaxing and enjoying the dry night. We were following the sound of some dancing music that was coming from the town's one and only "club". It was a small, palm roofed structure with a cement floor, no walls, and a soundsystem that consisted of huge speakers connected to a CD player...no kidding. There were also about 10 plastic tables and chairs, and some short cinder block walls nearby that were all packed with a variety of locals looking to enjoy their Saturday night out. There were lots of groups of young people...from 13 to 30 years old...dressed to impress and smelling of their best perfume or cologne. But also lots of older folks too...even some families with little kids and babies. It was a happy scene. There were a few tourists besides me, but not many. So we bought some cans of beer, found an open spot on that cinder block wall and sat back to watch the dancers dance to the merengue, bachata, and salsa that was playing. Then after about 15 minutes, all of a sudden the music stopped and the lights were turned on. Then a small and very serious looking local woman got on a microphone and began to pull numbers. The tables suddenly filled up with people and they got out their cards and dried beans...it was BINGO time!!! So that was how the night went...15 to 20 minutes of sexy latin dancing, then bam....music off, lights on! Bingo time! As soon as there was a winner (whose prize was about $50 bucks), it was back to music and dancing! So much fun! I didn't play BINGO, but I sure did dance. Had a good partner and away we went...merengued and bachatad up a thick sweat under that palm roof on that cement floor! Good times.
Ok, I am tired now. There are more...but I need to take a brake. Besides, I am sick of sitting in this internet cafe and the lady is looking at me like..."Aren't you done yet?" Time to go for a stroll through old town colonial Cartagena. The hottest part of the day is over...it should be nice out again. That is my strategy...spend the hottest part of the day in the air conditioned internet cafe. Genius. 😊
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Pamela
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Back to School
Hi Sonya..love your blog..you are amazing. It is back to school for us soon! We'll miss you at Stanford. Lisa is getting things together. I have not forgotten about my contacts in Argentina. Just waiting until it gets a bit closer. Sorry about your grandfather. I hope you continue to have a wonderful time.