Atun Poza and the Pacaya River
We set out this morning in a light drizzle, and it never really let up, nor did it ever become anything to worry about. After all, we ARE in the Amazon rainforest!
One group took off for the forest walk. It was our last chance to get into some good boot-sucking mud on our way to a giant kapok tree. On the way we walked through the village of Atun Poza, which means lagoon of fish, a clear message about what the folks do here for a living. Before the trail enters under a thick canopy, it took us through one family's banana plantation where an explanation was made about the different kinds of bananas used, eaten and cultivated here. Plantains are another staple crop alongside manioc and rice. Sweet bananas are eaten a lot, but not as much as the cooking banana. Papaya trees were growing loaded with fruit. As these are eaten by many of the birds, their seeds are deposited all over. When seen, they cannot be used as an indication of a nearby house and garden. However, when bananas are seen along the shore that means someone's home is not far.
Once under the trees, the raindrops barely hit the walkers, and the kapok, or Ceiba pentandra was reached practically dry-clothed. These trees traditionally have been left alone by the people of the area; they were supposed to incorporate spirits, potentially malign, and so as children, our guide told how they would give a wide berth, untouched. In the last decade unfortunately, they had been found by people who are not from these parts to be excellent material for plywood, and so are now endangered, at least those close to the rivers for easier extraction. We reflect on that, and promise to be careful about what woods we purchase in the future, and to ask the provider where it came from before buying.
Those who chose the skiff ride re-acquainted themselves with many known bird species (by now), and also saw female squirrel monkeys with young on their backs, and a few sloths as well – not bothered at all by the rain up in the tree tops of Cecropia trees.
We all met at the one-room schoolhouse in the village, and all the students were there despite being on “summer holiday” - the Peruvian Amazon schools are on vacation from Christmas to early April. The time of high water and little solid ground; some communities are temporarily afloat for a few months! The students (and younger siblings) gathered to greet us, sing to us and hear our version of “row, row your boat” (in a round, mind you). The schools supplies some folks provided were gratefully received, but possibly the two items most coveted were the soccer balls – the entire community can enjoy those!
It is difficult to describe the wonder of our trip up the Pacaya River. This drainage, the Pacaya River, was the first area recognized in the region of being outstanding value in regards to wildlife, ecosystems and habitats. This was the first river drainage to be protected back in the early 1940's, and it was only later that the drainages of the Samiria River and the Yanayacu-Pucate Rivers were added to the expanding national reserve in the 1980's.
This afternoon we saw four different species of monkeys: squirrel, Monk saki, brown capuchin and red howlers. Thousands of egrets were roosting along the banks of the lagoon, two pink river dolphins came in to see what the big deal was when we were swimming and sloths were hanging up-side down scratching their wrists and heads. Of the bird species sighted, one was new to everyone – including our local naturalists! The black and white hawk-eagle (!) was in a clearing on a tree isolated with no leaves – in other words, we couldn't miss him! The sunset was stunning, reflected as it was in the river of mirrors. Two howlers were seen side-by-side enjoying the sunset from their perch on a top branch. In the dark return, a tree boa slowly stretched itself along a branch while a common potoo perched on a snag and black caiman started appearing among the water lettuce at the water's edge.
The sky was filled with stars from both hemispheres; the moon was barely a crescent low on the horizon.
