South American Blunders

So, we´re piled into the back of Cherubia´s sister´s pickup truck, straddling plantanes and backpacks. We arrive at his house, which is carved into the side of the rainforest with a little river that goes around the back. All the construction was done by Cherubia and his brothers with wood and bamboo. His little, old mother came out and showed her enthusiasm by giving us all fierce, wet kisses on our cheeks and grinning from ear to ear throughout our stay. We cooked dinner and, as we went to bed in the main house listened to Cherubia tell stories about his tribe, sing some traditional songs, and even let us play one of the weird instruments that were once used by his tribe (looked like a bow that you pluck and press to your mouth).
The next morning we rose early and started walking into the forest. Very quickly we came to a huge river that we had to cross and not one of us got through it dry. And then it started to pour. I loved it. We walked at a fast pace for about 2.5 hours and were suddenly upon a covered bridge over a river that we were told was the entrance to the national park. With that, our guide just turned and left, wishing us luck.
We walked on into the forest, mostly in silence because it seemed like there were so many noises to be heard, but only if we kept quiet. We took turns macheteing our way towards the shelter and after a couple more hours found ourselves there. The shelter was essentially a roof that would fit one of our tents and had some benches for sitting in it. Marcus, Michele, and I immediately dropped our packs and started exploring the little river that bordered our camp. Weirdest shit I´ve ever seen. Life growing on life that was growing on life. We fought through vines and fallen trees and deep pools and somehow avoided being eaten or stung and made it in time to shower under a little waterfall before dinner. We played Mafia that night and ate well.
The next morning 5 of us continued on, without packs, to the second shelter. A beautiful hike with a beautiful view over looking the canopy at the end and we saw tapir tracks. We had to hurry back in order to get our packs and make it to the covered bridge before dark.
Once at the bridge we had a couple of crises. First, as dinner was cooking on our little stove, we heard a hiss and then a huge explosion. Somehow the flame from our stove had gotten to the gas canister and was causing a gigantic, unending flame inside this small, wooden, covered bridge and all we could do was kick the damn thing into the rainforest at the expense of our dinner. Once the can finally ran out of gas and the fire stopped we salvaged our dinner and began cooking it over the fire. For this we needed more wood and I took to hacking away at a fat, dry log. The machete bounced off the log and into my leg, between the shin and ankle. I calmly sat down and passed the machete off to Michele and then lifted my pant leg to see blood literally spurting out of it. It ran down my foot and pooled in the dirt and Michele immediately took amazing action. I almost passed out but they managed to stop the bleeding, get it cleaned and bandaged, and keep me awake. So much blood. Awesome.
The next day we hiked out, forged the river, and began walking to Cherubia´s house in order to catch the bus into town and then back to Quito. Marcus and I charged ahead, determined to get there and ended up arriving an hour ahead of everyone else. When we got to the house Cherubia´s 2 brothers were the only ones there and they were about half past drunk, enjoying their Sunday. They enthusiastically brought our dirty, exhausted selves into the house and began feeding us beer and asking us questions. The beer soon turned into pure Caña, manufactured at a farm an hour away and by the time our friends arrived Marcus and I were slap happy drunk and chatting away to these 2 men in what was probably slurred, incomprehensable Spanish. It was a great way to end the trip.
We got into Macas, toasted our success over dinner and parted ways. Overall the trip was incredible, the beauty and the excitement-the Andes and the jungle. Screw cities.

In 1 hour I am getting on a bus for Christmas in Buenos Aires. Happy Holidays everyone, spike your eggnog and sing loudly. Much love.