The Selva, Jungle of Northern Peru (1)

I try to give an honest critique without negative undertone, hope I succeeded…

Camping in the jungle? Is that fun? The word fun I dislike, so let’s call it interesting. Well, interesting it certainly is! I think on any long term travel fun only happens out of the blue, when an unexpected happening takes place. By now, sitting on the back of a motorbike for days on end is no fun anymore. It was fun when I met Geo, when we went on a short tour through the loose sand of the Chaco in Paraguay. Camping in the jungle could be fun in that way too, but by now, we find it hard to enjoy camp spots.

Rather than fun, ‘interesting’ is the right word. A harmless word, which can imply a negative but also a positive experience. Fascinating are the routes through the never ceasing, abundant green hills of Northern Peru. The roads are curving, swinging and bobbing through a lushness impenetrable. That is, one road, the N5. There is only 1 road and no other, all traffic is on this one road. To go deeper into the Amazon you need to cross rivers, travel by river or take one of the very few dead-end roads. Nevertheless, you will always be in surroundings where plenty of people live.

That’s the other downside of the jungle: there are always people everywhere. Or at least, that is how I feel. Geo says my words are only true when I compare the amount of people with the altiplano. People emerge from paths. When you least expect people to show up, they will. The jungle is so lavish, vibrant and dense that the path you took is the path others take. Simply because there are no paths unused. Paths unused grow close very rapidly.

A great experience, perhaps it can be called ‘fun’ indeed, is the huge difference of surrounding in camp spots in just one day. Less fun are that each spot has mosquitoes accordingly. No matter where you are, the mosquitoes are of very high disturbance and much of what we do in camp is combined with scratching. We use the hard side of Velcro to have a sharper tool to relief our itching bites. A spongy is too rough though, leaving long open lines.

There are many rivers in the Selva jungle of Northern Peru, they are of a fairy-tale beauty. They’re so atmospheric and majestic and grand. It’s an instant reminder of the power of nature. One does not have to veer off far to notice how pretty and abundant river fauna is, also how a river is the source of life for Peruvians. The road runs synchrone with a river, the people use the stream for all sorts of tasks. And there is no spot unused at the river which has a path leading towards it. Without a path there’s no access to a river.

A great characteristic of Peruvians is that they don’t care where you erect your camp. On the path, next to the road or exactly where the ferry moors. Peruvians are quite spontaneous, good humored people with a shiny character. The problem is us, cold Europeans, who like seclusion more than any other. I, in particular, want the camp spot to be void of any people. I dislike passers-by, whether by foot, mototaxi, motorbike, car or boat. Camping in the jungle means all of these. Simply because it is not possible to camp where there is no recess. And an interruption in undergrowth means people, otherwise an interruption would not be there… I remember me saying that a very short while ago…

Your camp in the public jungle doesn’t mean people will curiously watch you, yet it’s open for everyone to join in to your grooming rituals. Just as children splash along the roadside while adults wash themselves openly in streams, so do we. No bath is better than a jungle river, but privacy is no part of it.

When we have lunch, the locally caught fish paco, the man of the restaurant asks Geo whether Hitler had an atomic bomb in the 3rd Reich and used it during the war? Heavy matters to talk about during lunch.

The only chance for a private bath was a fast flowing river where the banks were gushed off and the sand upon we stood slowly absorbed us. Yet, nothing so refreshing as a river wash. Suddenly mosquito itchings disappear, the feeling of a fresh cool bath is priceless before heading to the air mattress.

Nevertheless, humidity takes over the freshness of a cool river bath quickly. And more, pages of my diary are flabby and our washed underwear only dries when it’s a sunny day, otherwise it smells of an old moist cellar. Our skin stays wet, combined with dirt, red mosquito bites, many crusts, some of which are bleeding, is not the most appealing for a wife.

We feel our mileage is on the low side, as the N5 twists and turns like a pig being tied by all four. The distance in a straight line might only be half the actual distance. We always have trouble finding a camp spot. Because of expected rains we prefer having a roof, as we are in the rainy season. The probability of a dry night does not change our perspective of having easiness in finding spots to camp. When it will be a dry night we still need level ground, almost an impossibility in this hilly part of the world. And we want shadow for the warm sunlight in the morning. It often takes us hours to find a suitable camp spot. Ending up late at a camp spot results in hasty contemplation which I make up for in the morning with the result of such a late start that any hard-working farmer would, rightfully so, mock us for.

In fact, the only reprieve of the humidity and heat and mosquitoes and itch is the motorbike. Yet the motorbike has not exactly become my friend since the constancy of sitting is wearing me out. Geo handles it much better, although his seemingly relaxed position is something else: impingement syndrome in his shoulder where stretching gives some relief. Some others simply love driving the moto… have a good look at the photo below.

In short, camping is probably not the way to go in the Selva, the jungle of Northern Peru. Living in a mud house would in all likelihood be a much better option. I have the impression that the jungle is best discovered by foot, where cars can not come. Paths broad enough for a single set of feet, outfitted in rubber boots, a machete and camera.

The only road through the jungle is narrow and because of the profuse vegetation there is not a whole lot to be seen. It is an asphalted road, lined with houses and before and after each village a seriously mean speed bump, which irritates us both highly.

Examples of jungle camp spots

7 camp spots follow. The highest number we ever camped in one go. It wrecked us. Seriously, we both love camping but it has become a hard task where we are not able to rest. I dislike checking into hotels since it is more work to haul all the bags in to a room than erecting a tent. I also think that camping is the closest means to be actually in the jungle.

1. We end up under a house in construction, some sort of sucking flies nesting in my hair as soon as I wake up and get out of the fine netting construction of the tent. In my frustration I destroy my leggings by pouring DEET on all I wear.

2. We end up at a stone refinery, the only flat area far below the road. A pleasant spot with roof, kitchen and river. I am happy with the open space around us. But as usual, we are aware that we have taken someone elses property and it makes us feel slightly uneasy.

One of the riches Peru has lost is tradition in clothing. Europe has lost this long ago as well and it is not all that important but in Peru ‘fashion’ is only leggings and tight T-shirts, save for the farmers. Especially in the jungle I can imagine natural body covering is superior over Lycra, synthetic fabrics and football shirts. Though, cotton is hard to find. Upon entering Segunda Jerusalen we are surprised to see no person in Lycra nor other revealing synthetic, instead knee long skirts, white shirts and black trousers. All men carry a shoulder-bag crosswise over the chest and all women walk with a broom.

In this village a spiritual clean-up took place, perhaps. Geo asked someone why most men carry a bag and the answer is that it holds a Bible. Further questions revealed that the inhabitants are not Mormons but Pentecostal. The difference is that the Pentecostals are a Christian group that emphasizes in the gifts of the Holy Spirit, where as the Mormons are considered an unbiblical cult, eventhough they also use the name of Jesus Christ. Mormons go by the book of Joseph Smith, who found this book in his garden. They often go door to door to preach the message, as do Jehova witnesses. Both are dressed in similar style, just as the people in Segunda Jerusalen. Confusion all over… especially because the jungle of Northern Peru seem to have pretty much Jehova witnesses, or Mormons from the USA. 

Since we are driving around, we often have seen Pentecostal ‘churches’. It might be because South Americans, as Africans, are not scared for miracles to happen, for spirits to exist.

The atmosphere in this village is very different, not the least because people are not dressed typical Latina style. Though not in natural fabrics, at least neat and decent. I am welcomed with so much love that it makes me feel awkward, mostly because I can not communicate that well in Castellano.

The continuation is to read in the next post…

January 2020. Shumanza, Sauce, Nuevo Esperanza, Nuevo Cajamarca, Naranjos, rio Utcubamba, Tia Lanco, Panamal