Mother Amazonas and I

by Santhurie Naidoo (Australia)

A leap into the unknown Brazil

There is something enigmatic and inexplicable about The Amazon Jungle - her vastness, her deep rivers, her expansive wildlife, and her abundant moisture and oxygen that makes it feel like she is hiding secrets, but that she wants us to find out what these secrets hold. Travelling down her river spine on a small boat at midnight, with no electricity, and just the tender luminescence of a silver sliver of the moon and the milky way, and dozens of caiman eyes peeking just above the water, smirking underneath, the Amazonas experience felt like an ignorant leap into the bold unknown. The day before Mother Amazona, I had undertaken a walking tour of Brazil city’s underground stations, Christ the Redeemer, Sugar Loaf Mountain and the Santa Marta Favela. The weather was wet and unpredictable in June. I stood on the street and looked up. Christ the Redeemer was covered with clouds, but as I looked again, the cloud parted slightly for me to see Christ., as though the statue was opening his arms and saying: “Take the cable car, come up and see me”. So, I did, as I was told. When I got up to the statue, it was crystal clear and strikingly bright blue skies with blazing sunshine. I reveled in the luck and delight of the changing weather, and seeing Christ on the mountain, then slowly meandered to the tour of the Santa Marta Favela at night. As the sun yawned, lowered his gaze and retired for the night, the colorful favela came to life. Vendors sold what the locals needed, women gathered to chatter on the steps, kids ran noisily up and down the stairs, locals happily rode the newly installed elevator up to their units, and the men gathered for a cold beer while playing cards. Life seemed comfortable, easy, simple and blissful. No one looked at me as though I was different and I felt as if I was intertwined into the local culture, like a common neighbor meandering the streets and enjoying the vibrant atmosphere on a mid-weeknight in summer. The seamless integration felt comfortable and I felt peaceful. As I left the favela, I still felt safe and confident to get back to my hotel room. Another leap of faith into the unknown, but somehow it was the known. Of knowing that I will be safe and protected and that I would get to my hotel safely, It was as though I was escorted by a silent bodyguard who walked behind me and eased me into the streets of Santa Marta and that securely led me into the next day so that I could face it with vigour and anticipation of the Amazon. I fortuitously met three other women on my Amazonas tour, whom are a few years before me and a few years after. Having been easily influenced by these three captivating souls, eyes of life and hearts of love, I had swapped out my 5-star cabin accommodation for four with toilets, power, and potable water for sleeping in a hammock between trees on a stormy night. Sina, Faria and Nirali have become my buddies for life. Three strong, independent, beautiful, caring, humble, brilliant, humorous and feminine women born in Asia, but raised in America, who inspire me and bring out the good unknowns in me. For this leap into the unknown, I thank you all. That night, while visiting Mother Amazonas, I slept with a mosquito net that protected massive mosquito mandibles on my melanin. But a great fear of the unknown kept me up all night. I did not sleep a wink. whilst the other ladies snored peacefully, without any qualms with life, I was afraid that we would be killed in the night by any form of lurking jungle danger. The fear of the unknown Mother Amazonas was unsettling, and even until today, still resides in me. Thank you, Mother Amazonas, for the leap into the unknown, for the leap into a part of earth and myself that I had not, until then, conquered.