Sunday started painfully early. Like 5:30 a.m. early. We grabbed a quick breakfast, loaded onto the bus, and immediately got introduced to what I can only describe as a two hour whiplash session disguised as a road. From there, we loaded all our stuff onto these big motorized canoes manned by the Geyepare tribe, with one guy in the front navigating and another in the back running the motor, who stood up for the entire seven hour ride. Seven hours. Standing. I was sitting and barely surviving.
The canoe ride itself was honestly a mix. The group I was with was fun, we played games, listened to music, and made the time pass, but the sun was relentless that day and I baked. Highlights along the way included some squirrel monkeys jumping through the trees and a few really cool herons hanging out on the beaches. By the time we pulled up to Todd’s cabana, I was completely cooked, physically and mentally. We squeezed in a quick hike before dinner, but everyone was wiped, and with zero internet, we all crashed embarrassingly early. Which, weirdly, was one of the best sleeps I’ve had in a while.
Monday came fast. The jungle does not care about your sleep schedule, and neither do the women cooking breakfast (massive respect to them, by the way, they were incredible). After breakfast, we got the rundown on our full day with the Waorani nation and specifically the Geyepare tribe. We started by meeting the brothers and their mother, who is the monarch of the tribe. They welcomed us warmly and shared how hard they’re fighting to preserve the rainforest and protect their culture. They have 10 siblings total who make up the main family of the community, though the sisters weren’t there because they were away at school.
From there, we canoed about 10 minutes down the river to a section of jungle with these massive ceiba trees, where we swung from vines like actual jungle children. The mother told us stories about how these trees used to provide shelter for their people and how important they’ve been throughout their history. Then we went fishing, and I have to brag a little here, I caught seven fish, the most of anyone in the group. Different style than I’m used to, just casting a line and pulling up these little catfish looking things, but I’ll take the win.
After lunch back at the cabana, we headed to their actual community down the river, and this is where the day really opened up. They held a naming ceremony for us, painting our faces with traditional designs and giving each of us a meaningful name from their ancestors. Mine was Kemo, who was one of their warriors that fought against missionaries back in the day. Pretty cool, except I later found out it also means “little monkey,” which I’m choosing not to dwell on. Then they taught us how to throw spears and showed us their long blow darts that they actually hunt with, which was incredible to see in person.
Then came the soccer game, which was extremely fun and even more muddy. They were genuinely really good, but I held my own and got to show off a little. The best part of the whole day though, and maybe the whole trip, was swimming in the river while it rained. The water was warm, the rain was warm, and we played games with everyone in the community. It was the kind of moment you immediately know you’ll never get to have again. After that we headed back to the cabin for dinner, where we ate the fish we caught earlier, which made me feel like a legitimate provider.
Then we went BACK to the Waorani community that night for a traditional dance they had prepared for us. In return, we hit them with our culture, which apparently means dancing to “Party in the USA,” singing the Pitt version of “Sweet Caroline,” and teaching them how to frat flick to house music. They were SO into it. We then bought some of their beautiful traditional weavings and said our goodbyes, since we had to head out early the next morning.
Tuesday was another long travel day in reverse. Early wake up, quick breakfast, back into the canoes for another seven hour ride. The big upgrade this time was cloud cover, which made the trip significantly more comfortable. Same group, too, which helped pass the time. After the canoe came the bus, of course, and another two hours of jungle roads beating us up before we finally made it back to the lodge. The pool never looked so beautiful. We swam, rinsed off the three days of sweat, mud, river water, face paint, and general jungle grime, ate dinner, and went to bed.
Honestly, getting to immerse ourselves in that part of the world is something I’m still processing. We were dirty, exhausted, sunburned, and bug-bitten the whole time, and somehow none of that mattered. Being welcomed into a culture that’s fighting so hard to protect their land and their traditions, and getting to share moments with them that weren’t staged or curated for tourists, that was the real thing. I won’t forget it.