Lifeworks posts

My mom suggested (quite brilliantly) that it would be a good idea to post the blogs that I wrote for our group blog on here, for you all to read. The url, if anyone is curious about the rest (which are kind of disorganized) is http://www.lifeworks-international.com/blogs/allblogs.php?k=07updates&page=2&id=311. Wow.

Whitewater Rafting! 21 Jun 2009

Author: Rachael (writing as Sherlock Poirot)
Location: Rio Toachi and Blanco
Today started like any other day - a hot cup of java and a quick scan of the newspaper. I wuz lookin' for this dame, I think Cher's the name, who'd been kidnapped out her families noses. I wuz told it would be a doozy, but when I realized I'd be looking for her at the bottom of class 4 white water rapids, the whole story got a mite stranger. I was game, for a higher price. The fam threw lunch in the deal, and I was in. Too bad they couldn't 'a told me 'bout the treachery of my boatmates - we flew over a big swell and it pushed me out. Sure I was drowning, my only thought was, "I hope I still get paid."

Beaten, Bloodied, and Beaming 3 Jul 2009

Author: Rachael
Location: Rio Napo, Amazon
There's a certain amount of irony in not having water in the rainforest. Really. But, I suppose since it was at the end of the day, I shouldn't complain about my not-a-shower until the end of the post.

It was a dark and stormy night...

Like usual.

Then we woke up.

Also, like usual.

I will admit to skipping breakfast. I said the food would make me nauseous, which was technically true, but it was also true that I was tired, and had finally gotten comfortable in this darned humidity.

When Megan and Michi came back to the room, I heard our "facilitators" had been arguing about who would have to stay behind if I was still sick. Needless to say, I was immediately, if unhappily, guilted into attendance, at whatever cost. Hector told us the night before that our outing would include a hilly hike before lunch and a delightful day of being further squashed by the infinitely superior football skill of small children we were constantly at risk of squishing under our big toes. The largest kid barely came up to my elbow, but kicked harder than a mule with a mosquito on its bum. And for whatever reason, they always aim their kicks at our body parts...today alone, Christine, Tierney, and Calder were all tripped, my not-tan calves were turned purple from bruises, and Adam was quite dramatically (and effectively, in terms of defending the goal) emasculated.

I suppose I skipped a bit. You know, that whole hilly part I mentioned, during which I learned that light blue t-shirts show sweat extremely effectively, mud has almost no traction, and my basket-weaving skills leave something to be desired, not to mention that I need to run some more stairs, since the trek up to the treehouse deck at the peak of our hike left me more than breathless, and it was taken at a far slower pace than the one at which Monsieur Robert usually drives me. To be honest, it was a bit of a letdown. We climbed up the whole bloody tree to see one bird (which I actually couldn't find) and listen to Eddie ask Emily what she thought would happen if termites ate through the boards we stood on. Hearing that the second group of mock-birdwatchers saw a plethora (I've been wanting to use that word in a real sentence since the 5th grade!) of birdfowl that appeared immediately after we left confirmed that the group literature discussion at the bottom of the tree was definitely the best part of the pre-lunch day.

Returning to Sumak Alpa and the mahhhhvelous time we had hanging out with small, cute soccer pros - it's definitely worth mentioning that everyone in our group can now shoot a traditional blowgun and throw traditional spears, if poorly. Hector is really really ridiculously good at using such violent implements, but he did hunt when he was younger. Granted, this is the same guy who claimed that he carried around a machete to discipline our group, and that the claws he wore around his neck were his mother-in-law's fingernails, so who knows.

The day ended with a delightfully extensive "appreciation" session, which culminated in a group guffaw at Eddie's shrieking cackle. I don't know whether I'm disappointed to leave the beauty and novelty of the Amazon, not to mention the simple magnificence of actually being in such a legendary place, or whether I'm just delighted to be leaving the humidity and the bloody freaking tarantulas, and the tiny, evil mosquitoes. It will be nice to shower with water again, too. For a rainforest, there is a lot of emphasis on the lack of fresh water. Ironic, then, that my dysfunctional shower forced me to bathe with bottled water. Tomorrow is another day. At least I'm clean, if not totally rinsed, and if all goes according to plan, I will be flying back to Quito tomorrow afternoon with a brand new machete in my backpack. See you soon, mom and dad!