DreamWorld (December 1999)
Ecuador's Kapawi Lodge is a pearl set in an emerald
forest
A morpho butterfly normally displays broad wings
of the most exquisite neon blue. Today though, the
dim,
early morning light of a rain-forest glade turns the
morpho a glinting silver as it pursues its jerky, jitterbug
flight. Startlingly, when it flaps it wings and exposes
its dull underside, the butterfly becomes briefly invisible,
only to reappear a few inches away in a different position.
This disjointed staccato lends an otherworldly quality
to the morpho's movements, giving the illusion that it's
been caught in its own personal strobe; the green background
remains the same, only the butterfly is subject to the
flickering flashes of light.
The Achuar who live here on the Capahuari River in the
most remote area of the Ecuadorian Amazon basin believe
that when they die their lungs become butterflies. They
consider butterflies, and certain other animals, iiviancb,
a materialized form of a person's soul. The morpho butterfly's
talent for sorcery supports the Achuar's supernatural
view of their rain-forest world. The iwianch animals
are never harmed.
Our group of ecotourists is exploring the rain forest
from Kapawi Lodge, near the Pastaza River, which joins
the Maranon, a main branch of the Amazon. A 12-seat Cessna
air taxi flew us here from Quito, down the Avenue of
the Volcanoes, before hopping over the Andes in a driving
thunderstorm that lashed the windshield with explosive
raindrops. Thick clouds hid the high peaks during much
of the hour-plus ride. When the plane finally cut through
die clouds, we gazed down upon a forest canopy that looked
like the florets of giant broccoli stalks. A short, dirt
landing strip awaited us at the Achuar village of Wayusentsa.
From there, a motorized canoe took us an hotir-and-a-half
downriver to the lodge, our isolated home for the next
few days.
Kapawi opened for visitors in 1996, a joint effort of
NAE (Federation of Ecuadorian Achuar Nationalities)
and Canodros S.A., an experienced cruise-ship operator
specializing in ecotours of the Galapagos Islands. Canodros
wanted to form a partnership with an Amazonian tribe
to create a destination that would allow travelers to
combine a rain-forest adventure with a tour of the islands
that inspired Charles Darwin. The Achuar, who until the
1970s had little contact with the Western world, wanted
to obtain some of the trappings of civilization while
preserving their land and their independence. Canodros
turned to Daniel Koupermann, a veteran Amazon guide,
for help. He suggested building a lodge in the heart
of Achuar territory, and helped negotiate an agreement.
It took 120 Achuar, Koupermann, and several others two
years to construct the complex: two central buildings
for dining and gathering connected by raised hoard-walks
lo 20 cabins. Following Achuar architecture, no nails
were used. Wooden pegs and sturdy vines hold everything
together. From below, the woven palm-leaf roofs look
like the insides of giant overturned baskets. The fragrant
thatch sheds rain and shelters squadrons of small, insect-eating
bats. Each of the cabins has a wide veranda that extends
on stilts over Kapawi Lagoon. From a swaying hammock
or a lounge chair, a relaxed guest can watch red-capped
cardinals winging by, or a ringed kingfisher surveying
the watery expanse from a favorite perch. Each cabin
has its own full bath, but hot water, in solar-heated,
five-gallon bags for showering, is delivered only once
a day.
The Achuar benefit from the lodge in several ways. They
lease the land to Canodros for a monthly rent and receive
a $10 fee from each guest. A number of the Achuar work
for the lodge as cooks, waiters, guides, canoe pilots,
and in other jobs. Most important, they arc being trained
to take over the day-today management. The Achuar Intend
this enterprise to be a bulwark against oil mining and
logging. Koupermann quotes an Achuar elder as saying, "If
oil conies, they [the oil men] cannot say there is nothing
here." According to the agreement, full ownership
of Kapawi reverts to the Achuar in 2008.
The comforts of lodge life may tempt guests to birdwaich
from their hammocks, but forest bikes provide more excitement.
Guides can arrange a variety of expeditions, from very
easy canoe trips and walks along cut trails, to long,
demanding treks and overnight camping. For travelers
arriving at Kapawi from the Galapagos, the richness of
the bird life here will prove to be a sharp contrast
to the relative paucity of land bird species found on
the volcanic islands.
Our group was particularly excited at seeing its first
hoatzin. This chestnutplum-aged, ehickenhke bird has
an electric blue face, bright red eyes, and an untidy
blond crest. The hoatzin hangs out along watercourses
in low trees and bushes, where it can be beard crashing
about and barking. The prehistoric-looking chicks hatch
with tiny claws on their wings. At the first signs of
danger, the chicks launch themselves headlong into the
river. After the danger has passed, the claws enable
them to scratch their way back to the nest.
The hoatzin also has a unique diet for an avian. It eats
the alkaloid-laced leaves of rain-forest plants. The
bird's crop acts like a cow's stomach, fermenting the
foliage and breaking down the nutrients and protective
chemicals. Few other animals compete for this food source,
and the plant poisons give hoatzins a disagreeable smell
and distasteful flesh; human hunters rarely bother them.
Kapawi Lodge's logo is a hoatzin—and we saw many flocks
of them lurking in the bushes.
An English-speaking guide accompanies all outings, but
an Achuar leads the way. Not only do the Achuar know
the land intimately, they are amazingly proficient at
finding camouflaged insects and other invertebrates.
On a rainy, early evening walk along a darkening trail,
our Achuar guide, Ruben, pointed out stick insects, tin}'
brown tree frogs, and hairy caterpillars that most people
would have trouble seeing on astroturf on a sunny day.
Ruben also discovered a huge, beautifully patterned land
snail whose shell spanned a good six inches.
We added many birds to our life lists. Braces of screeching
bluc-and-yellow and cinnamon-fronted macaws fly over
the lagoon. Mealy and other small green parrots flock
around the lodge. Chachalacas call their name from nearby
trees, while crimson-crested and Imcatcd woodpeckers
work their way up the tree trunks. White-winged swallows
swoosh up and down the rivers in their perpetual quest
for mosquitos, and tropical kingbirds, lesser kiskadees,
and other flycatchers take their toll on the larger insects.
This is major tanager-land, with bold black-and-white
magpie and blue-gray tanagers among the most conspicuous.
Anhinga, black caracara, white-throated toucan, blue-throated
piping guan, white-eared jacarnar ... but the list goes
on and on. More than 500 species have been identified
around Kapawi, and birders find more all die time.
One afternoon, Ruben and Nelson, our English-speaking
guide who grew up in Quito, took us to a black water
lagoon covered with duckweed. Scooping away the thick
green carpet revealed water stained the color of tea
by tannins in fallen leaves. In the center stood a tree
festooned with dozens of oropendola and yellow-ramped
cacique nests. The oropendolas weave a palm-fiber, athletic-length
sock, compared to the shorter, rounder sock preferred
by the caciques. The nest builders flew all around us,
keeping up a steady, raucous dialogue. Jacanas strode
about the lily pads, pausing every once in a while to
glean an insect tidbit. In the low trees girdling the
lagoon, we could see nesting hoatzins.
To be sure, there are mammals at Kapawi, but they are
much less visible than the bird life. The area has deer,
tapir, jaguar, ocelot, eight kinds of opossum, monkeys,
and many other species counted as common. On our early
morning walks we heard the low, throaty roars of howler
monkeys, but met up with only one large, scolding troop
of squirrel monkeys late one afternoon.
Nearly every visitor sees river dolphins. These surprisingly
large mammals use echolocation to navigate the opaque
rivers in search of catfish. On our way back from the
blackwater lagoon, a group of five dolphins surfaced
just yards from our canoe, exhaling "with gusto
through their blowholes. Though they don't often leap
from the water with the abandon of their marine cousins,
these dolphins elevated a good part of their bodies above
the waves, allowing us to sec their taut, pinkish undersides
and small dorsal fins.
Ruben and Nelson arranged an afternoon visit to an Achuar
village a few miles from the lodge. An Achuar home consists
of one large, open space with designated cooking and
sleeping areas. To receive guests, the family head sits
in the middle of the room on a stool carved into the
shape of a tortoise. Guests sit on a wooden bench facing
him. Following some polite, ritualized exchanges with
our guides, our host asked his wife to serve us the local
staple beverage, which in Spanish is chicha and in Achuar,
mjiamanch. To make it, the women chew up tough manioc
root and spit the pulp into earthenware jugs. It ferments,
producing a low-proof beer that die young woman served
to the group by hand-scooping generous portions mixed
with water into colorful ceramic bowls scorched from
baking in an open fire. Each of us gingerly accepted
a deep bowl filled nearly to the rim. The thick, sour
smelling drink tastes bitter, but the Achuar love it.
When a bowl of nijiamanch is handed to you, it is considered
impolite to put it down.
Nelson explained that the Achuar do not draw large distinctions
between their conscious world and the world of their
dreams. They sleep on uncomfortable wooden platforms,
which makes sleep fitful and dream-filled. They awake
often during the night and talk about their dreams. A
hunter may change plans based on his dreams, and dreams
may explain fishing failures or successes.
Perhaps the chicha helps foster the strong Achuar belief
in the verity of the spirit world, but the jungle sustains
it. The dense greener, that truncates sight- lines, the
frequent fogs, the sudden silences broken by plangent
bird calls, the dim light all contribute to the eerie
atmosphere of the rain foresc. The plant life grows unfettered,
almost animal in its aggressiveness. And decay goes on
ontinually as the forest recycles its fallen leaves,
branches, and tree trunks, adding the not-unpleasant
perfume of rotting vegetation to the mix of sensations.
The darkness under the forest canopy holds mysteries
and feeds fantasies. For the Achuar, it's probably reasonable
to give equal weight to the shadowy dreams of night and
the dusky reality of day. Travelers can more easily shed
those dark feelings and concentrate on the insistent
liveliness and brash colors—the sublime hues of the red-orange
heliconia flowers, the flashy brilliance of a macaw,
or the dreamy, bright blue of a morpho butterfly.
Time
and Place
THE BEST TIME of year to visit the Ecuadorian Amazon
is a matter of opinion. In April and May, the forest
floods. Hiking can be impossible, but it's fascinating
to canoe through the forest on trails you'd normally
be walking on. July through September are springlike.
Plants flower or fruit. Birds hatch, mammals are born,
and fish spawn in great numbers. The water boils with
their activity. |