A Scene from the Interoceanic
If I have learned one thing about myself in the scant (geologically speaking, anyway) amount of time I've spent on this planet, it is this: something deep, deep within me - some wild, slumbering entity - awakens magnificently when she is in the rainforest. It is, without one iota of doubt (and thank God for this, as there are few things I am so sure about), the ecosystem where I feel most at home.
The morning through the window
It is dawn. I wake after a second night on yet another bus winding through the Andes and immediately draw open the curtain. I know what's on the other side of the window before even looking: the Amazonas, mother of all jungles, where the early seeds of daylight are sprouting courageously from the darkness.
Entering the Amazonas: at first light
I disembark at Puerto, my final stop in Peru before continuing on for the other coast. With all my possessions, I hop on my ride's moto - not his taxi, not his tuk-tuk, but his motorcycle - and in an instant, my memories transport me back to my life on the rim of the Congo basin: copper-colored roads and emerald foliage painted three-dimensionally by the fog. Amazon and Congo, Congo and Amazon. Sometimes, when I forget where I am, I look to the people to remind me. What I have found by doing so is this: the whole world smiles the same.
***Taken from the forthcoming series: Through the Bus Window: South America on the Interoceanic
Bridge into Puerto
Evening stroll in Puerto
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