 Tenderfoot
In The Amazon Revisited
By Norman Morrison
From 39,000 feet the sky’s reflection made
the lakes and meandering rivers look like puddles
and ribbons of molten lead. I was bound for Manaus
and the mighty Amazon rain forests of northern
Brazil. My ultimate goal was to sample the
hospitality of a curious jungle lodge called the
Ariau Amazon Towers.
As usual, the service aboard Brazilian
airlines is a study in professionalism and courtesy.
They fed us about every 5 minutes and the drink cart
was up and down the aisle all the time. You will
become very fond of any Brazilian airline you happen
to use. I was part of a group of travel folks
invited to come sample TAM Brazilian airlines and
the Amazon Towers.
The vast checkerboard fields below, which
rival the American mid-west, abruptly gave way to a
sea of green as far as the eye could see. On and on
the plane flew over the vast Amazon rain forest. I
could but wonder at the mysteries and marvels that
lay beneath the green canopy below.
From the Manaus airport we were taken by bus
to the Tropical Manaus Hotel located on the shores
of the
Amazon. Awaiting us was a double decked boat similar
to a party fishing boat that you have seen at
seaside docks here in the U.S. We boarded and headed
for the Towers.
Since the trip was in June, the river was at
its high point, and I must confess, it is a wonder
to behold. It is an ocean of moving water. From
Manaus to the Towers is a straight shot, and just as
the tallest building disappeared over the horizon,
some 30 miles and two hours behind us, we caught our
first glimpse of the Towers.
It’s a funny thing, the Ariau, at first
sight, is both more and less than you expect. The
complex is smaller than the advertising pictures
suggest. But as you learn your way around, only then
does the magnitude of the operation become apparent.
Ariau, by the way, sounds like Ah-ee-eye-oo. It
comes easily to Brazilians and a little more
difficultly to everyone else.
 The
Towers is a collection of huge rounded huts,
with a 7 kilometer boardwalk through the surrounding
jungle. Service is magically provided by what must
be a huge, but unseen staff. In this respect it
reminds you of a theme park. It is, by its
isolation, a logistical 8th wonder of well oiled
workmanship. Not only did I but rarely see the
support staff...I didn’t even think about them until
well after I had returned home.
In all fairness, the reason I didn’t think of it was
because they keep you running. Ariau is not meant as
a place of rest, per se, though hammocks are
everywhere. It’s a place of learning. Should you
decide to go, you will be very impressed at the
great lengths they go to teach you about the Amazon
and it’s rain forest. That’s really what the trip is
about.
The first thing I noticed when I stepped off
the boat were the monkeys. They are everywhere! The
Towers
literature urges you not to play with them, and I
took them at their word. Who are you going to blame
if one of the resident monkeys is having a bad day
and decides to have some finger food? Thus, later, I
was surprised to see the owner's daughter defying
the house rule by petting one. They are truly
irresistible.
The rooms are great, and are air conditioned.
During the time I was there they were in a rare cool
spell. The temps were down into the 80's. During the
hottest part of the day though, the humidity gets
really high, and you will sweat. Be prepared for it.
The rooms are hardwood from floor to ceiling
with a little screened in balcony where you can sit
in and survey your good fortune. The screens keep
the monkeys out, but you shouldn’t be surprised to
see one stroll by occasionally. The maids are
relentless. The moment you leave, they will be in
your room straightening, and you’ll find a candy on
your pillow when you return.
A steady supply of liquids is a must, and
water is taken from the bottle. The tap water is
undrinkable, as you’ll discover upon brushing your
teeth. It’s rather bitter, because of the pervasive
tannic acid from the rain forest.
The region undergoes an annual cycle. During
the rainy season, when we are told it rains more,
the river floods inland creating a myriad of
waterways and swamps. The leaves and vegetation fall
into the water and it becomes quite acidic from
tannic acid in the leaves and tree bark. Because of
this, mosquitoes have a very hard time of it. I
personally never saw one, even though the whole area
is a huge swamp behind the Towers. During the dry
season, when we are told it rains less, the water
recedes, leaving dry ground. If the forest survives,
no doubt, this will be a dandy oil or coal field in
a few million years.
The Towers also sports a really nice upper
level restaurant where you take your meals buffet
style, several shops selling everything from fine
junk to great jewelry, a fairly complete general
store, a very friendly bar, and even a computer room
where you can check email and send a "wish you were
here" mail to your poor stay at home friends. In
short, all the necessities of life and happiness are
well provided for. All manner of famous people have
visited the towers and they liked it.
The philosophy of the Towers seems to be to
get you in, tour you at a fast pace, and see you
off. You can go there and lay around in hammocks up
front or even a mile down in the swamp if you like,
but you would be wasting your money if you did. The
secret is to do the tours you are paying for.
Starting with the boat ride to get to the Towers,
you are in for a marvelous and informative time.
One of our guides, a huge refrigerator (with
ice maker in the door) of a guy, easily one of the
largest and most muscled, but friendly Brazilians I
have ever met, served two tours with the Brazilian
Marines. Yes, even though Brazil has never been
known to actually need Marines, they have them. He
allowed that he had joined to learn jungle survival.
The final test, he said, is straight forward - they
drop you out in the middle of the Amazon jungle, and
if you walk out, you pass.
Your tours are not merely fun rides in the
long canoes. They are a true learning experience.
You will be much the wiser about the Amazon story by
the time you are through. I don’t know that any of
our guides were professors, but they should have
been. They taught us a great deal about what makes
the Amazon rain forest work.
 The
starting tour is the boardwalk. We walked a
goodly distance into the forest. One of the first
things we saw was a three toed sloth agonizingly
slowly ascending a tree. Now, you don’t see one of
those every day.
The man with the vision who owns the Towers,
we learned, is something of a mystic. Way out in the
woods, he has constructed a power pyramid that you
can sit in and gather rays. There is also a self
supporting tree house that is constructed around a
very tall tree. Here, you can climb into the rain
forest canopy and above. In effect, you are living a
National Geographic article. There is also a UFO
landing pad with greetings in many languages. You
can never be too careful, I suppose. There is also
what the they call a moon observatory, deep in the
boardwalk. I counted three rather expensive
Celestron telescopes ready for use after dark. The
boardwalk is minimally lighted, so you can find your
way there and back after dark.
 After
supper at the Towers round restaurant we came to
the high-brow portion of our trip as we were invited
to a Broadway musical, jungle style.
About 10PM, jungle time, fireworks lit the
night sky beside the two story tower dance hall.
They were calling everyone to come see a musical
play about the history of the native Indians meeting
the white man. We learned that they always have
musical concerts of some variety on the weekends.
The round hut contained a stage decorated,
naturally, in a jungle motif. The dancers used the
middle of the hut, and the audience was seated
around the periphery on bleachers. The center floor
was perhaps 100 feet across. The top was made of
wire with thick vines for a ceiling. The props were
set behind the stage, so the dancers would emerge
from stage left .. do their thing ... and then
retreat, stage right, to get dressed for the next
dance.
The show lasted an hour and a half. Two men
sang the entire time...nonstop. One set would finish
and the other would begin. I have no concept of how
they accomplished what they did with the little
space they had. There were no tractor trailer rigs
containing props parked behind the hut, as they
would have been parked in the Amazon river. The prop
room was relatively small and the costumes
extravagant and large. The show could play anywhere
in the U.S. to standing room audiences, and here I
was in the middle of the jungle having the time of
my life.
Morning comes early at the Towers, and you
can expect a knock on the door around 5AM. (By the
way, Manaus is on New York, Atlanta, and Miami time.
No jet lag. You don’t have time for it.) You’ll jump
into your canoe to set sail to watch the sun come up
over the Amazon. The guides take you on a quiet
reconnaissance of the backwaters, now in daylight,
with the hopes of spotting jungle critters in the
process of looking for breakfast. You weave thru
narrow tall grass backwater corridors and down slim
rain forest breaks. It’s best to keep your camera
handy at all times.
After the morning safari comes breakfast,
Brazilian style. No bacon, but plenty of eggs,
fruit, bread, cheese, ham, and even boiled corn.
Also lots of freshly squeezed exotic juices, and of
course you can have a Coke, if you wish.
The next tour was a jungle hike to check out
the flora and fauna. Being the brave and debonair
guy that I am decided to skip this one and have a
short nap instead. Afterwards, I ate one of the
small and ultimately delicious little Brazilian
bananas I had pilfered from the restaurant that
morning, and headed out to do the boardwalk by
myself. Surprisingly, I didn’t get lost in the
boardwalk maze and had a really great time walking
at my own pace. I took a turn we had not made the
night before and after 45 minutes of walking arrived
at the shore of the mighty Amazon and a new,
unfinished, tower. Except for a porter pulling a
suitcase behind him headed for who knows where deep
in the forest, I had the whole Amazon to myself.
I’ll cherish the memory always.
Back for lunch, eating some very delicious
and salmon-like freshwater fish, I unfolded my
itinerary and saw that the next stop was a tour to a
local’s home to see how they live out in the sticks,
fishing, and watching the sunset over the rain
forest.
We were back into the canoes. The novelty had
already worn off and I was feeling like an old hand
riding along, Tarzan style. Of course, everyone in
the 10 man canoe, except for the guide and driver
were always thoroughly lost all the time. They would
be going down a creek and then zip into a narrow
passage through the high grass and come out ...
somewhere.
The house on the river where our host family
lived and worked, was a simple affair with a two
boat garage. It was a shotgun shack, which for those
of you who don’t know, means that you could stand in
the front and shoot a load of buckshot through the
house without ever touching the walls.
Their back yard, which was slightly improved
jungle only, held a treasure trove of tasty
plants. Our guide, a sawed off little fellow named
Max, who was beloved by our group, and a wonderful
lecturer, showed us where Heart of palm comes from,
some various berries, and of the most interesting to
me personally, a monstrously large tree sporting
some half-coconut sized round pods far up in the
distance. Later, producing one of the seed pods, he
whacked it open with a machete to reveal about a
dozen Brazil nuts. Since I have always wondered
where they came from, and not even my Brazilian
friends and partners knew, it was a real treat. I
asked about 20 questions about the nuts and he
patiently explained all, but I think he already had
me pegged as the trouble maker of the group. I did
ask a lot of questions! Did you know that Brazil
nuts are not cultivated? Each and every one is
harvested from wild trees by entrepreneur natives.
Your Christmas nut has quite a bit of history.
Max grasped a little twig of a tree, growing
only about 5 feet high. Underneath, he said, was the
manioc root. If you recall your National Geographic
Magazine (Which is the only reference most Americans
have ever had to the Amazon), you might remember
that it is a staple in Brazil, much like wheat flour
is in the U.S. They use it like flour, and as a
sprinkle on food. It’s called farofa. It has the
consistency and color of Parmesan cheese. It tastes
like...well, like nothing much at all, but they love
it.
In a low shed behind the house they had
constructed a fireplace of brick and mud. In the
center top sat the largest cake pan I’ve ever seen.
It must have been four feet across. They grind the
manioc root and soak it for a day. The raw product
is poisonous, and the soaking removes it.
Afterwards, the gruel is put into the pan and cooked
until it is dry and powdery, and then put into a
large burlap sack to be carried to Manaus to be sold
for cash or goods.
We piled back into the boats and ventured
into what passed for the river man’s back yard, a
narrow little slew.
Just a little way in, we passed a boat with a couple
of what must have been his kids, little jungle
entrepreneurs, who were hawking some bead necklaces.
I guess it was old news to the boat driver, because
he just kept going.
 We
arrived at the back end of the slew at the foot
of the largest tree I had ever seen. It would have
put a California redwood to shame. You couldn’t see
the top. It was a balsa wood tree. I could only
marvel and wonder how many wind up airplanes or
model rocket nose cones could be made from this
giant of a tree. Beside it was a much smaller rubber
tree. Early last century this part of the forest had
been the rubber capital of the world until a mean
person from the far east carried off some seedlings
back home to start rubber plantations before WWI.
So how about a little fishing? Max could
teach on a doctor level about the Amazon in any
college in the U.S., but I think as a fishing guide
he left a little to be desired. We anchored on the
shoreline in the mouth of a large slew not far from
the Amazon and unlimbered our cane poles. The poles
had regular monofilament line tied on with a 16
gauge copper wire leader on the end with a small
hook. The bait was steak. When was the last time you
used round steak as bait? The quarry was piranha.
(Pronounced pee-ron-ya). Unlike what you have been
taught about fishing, which is to be very quiet, the
proper method of attracting these nasty little fish
is to bait up, cast, and then flail the water with
the end of your pole, really frothing up the water.
Piranha, it seems, are
a lot like our crappie. They school like crappie and
are about the same weight, all the way
from spoon size to slab sided. The piranha is
considered a trash fish, but are eaten if nothing
better is caught that day. The piranha is the fish
from hell. I want to be very clear on this point.
We caught only one that day. A New York city
boy who had never gone fishing in his life hauled in
a hand sized one which Max took great joy in showing
around. He reached overhead and snapped a pencil
sized limb from a tree and inserted it into the
fish’s mouth. The piranha proceeded to chomp and
with each bite whittled the limb down a couple of
more inches as neatly and easily as your grandma
cuts cloth. Piranha have teeth that would make any
dentist proud. Max claimed that you can swim in the
Amazon in safety. No one took him up on his offer.
I’m afraid the piranha fishing tour made all of us
look on the Amazon with more respect. Finally, a
lady snagged one and when it flashed to the surface
you could see that it would have gone about a pound
and a half. She didn’t land it, because it bit
through the metal leader. We all did our best to
comfort her on her loss, but I don’t think anyone
was the least bit sad that she missed it.
As the sun sank beneath the clouds on the far
horizon we were parked about a mile from shore on
the Amazon. Another canoe passed us and stirred up a
pod of fresh water dolphins. We watched them play
for awhile and then raced the other boat back in,
the guides talking on their FM walkie talkies
swapping lies about who caught the most fish.
 After
supper, we boarded the canoes again for our
final foray, this time for a bit of what they call
Caiman spotting. A Caiman or jacaré is the local
version of alligator. They grow from petting sized
up to non-petting sized. We idled back and forth in
the marshes in total darkness, save for the spot
light, the Milky Way overhead looking like a glowing
cloud, until the driver, who must have had built in
radar (I never understood how he saw through all of
us to drive) cut his engine and we drifted to shore.
Max leaned over and made his strike and came up with
a baby caiman about a foot long. He passed it
around, demonstrated how you could put it to sleep
by rubbing it’s tummy, and then gently placed it
back into the water, unharmed.
From there we went somewhere ... we never
knew where ... to land at a place that contained a
large square
building made of wood lashed together sporting a
palm thatched roof. I suppose it was the Amazon
version of an Indian long house. A real Amazon
Indian gentleman met us at the door and welcomed us
in. The inside was dimly lit with small smudge pots
swinging from the supports. After all the boats
arrived, we witnessed a native dance. There were
perhaps a half dozen couples, all decked out in
jungle wear just like in the National Geo. The men
had a gourd tied to their right leg which rattled
when they stepped and each had a flute. The man who
met us at the door grabbed his partner and started
running around the room blowing his flute and
keeping time with his gourd. The others joined in
forming a samba train, literally running and
dancing, snaking this way and that, and the whole
thing lasted for a half hour. The melody was short
and haunting, the rattling gourds adding to the
mystery of the dance-run, and on and on they went. I
marveled at their stamina. They apologized for the
abbreviated dance ritual, saying that normally it
lasts three days.
Afterwards, we were invited to sample some
delicious BBQ jacaré which tasted a like pork, and
sample some homebrew beer.
We later learned that the natives had
recently come down river to seek a better life, and
were hired by the Towers. In a way, I felt like I
was prying and being nosy, sitting there in that
long house watching their dance, but they were so
friendly and happy, maybe it was just me. They were
actors, yes, but they were acting what they had
grown up doing, and recently.
 I
have only briefly touched on all the things I saw
and learned on my Amazon journey. My notes run on
for 22 pages. As it turned out, the Amazon is
nothing like I thought it would be. It was at the
same time more, and less, than the National
Geographic said it was. It was a wondrous journey of
learning and adventure and a thing that would be a
joy for anyone to experience first hand.
Picture credits: Norman Morrison, Vincent Favoriti,
Rick Mangi
If you are thinking of traveling to Brazil, your
best source for all
Brazil travel information is BrazilAmerica.com.
Please visit their website:
http://www.BrazilAmerica.com
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