Secret Places: Kapawi Ecolodge (June 2001)

Shared by Brooke Comer

I've always fantasized about an Amazon rain forest adventure, so when a friend invited me to the Kapawi Ecolodge and Reserve in Ecuador, I accepted immediately. But I was unfamiliar with southwestern Ecuador near the Peruvian border, where Kapawi sits along the Pastaza River (an Amazon tributary) and had no clue what to take. Fortunately, Kapawi's web site lists essentials, with an eye to lightweight packs; each guest has a 30-pound weight limit.
We flew to Quito, gateway to the Amazon for many travelers, then boarded a small plane to Shell, a tiny town on the eastern slopes of the Andes. I quickly understood the reason for the weight limit. Our plane was about the size of my New York closet. Four passengers sat knee-to-knee and a fifth sat next to the pilot.
We landed on a mud runway in the village of Kapawari. The Achuar, who own Kapawi and lease it to a tour operator called Canodros, are the last indigenous natives in the Ecuadorian rain forest. Canodros built the lodge to Achuar code (no nails were used) to give the locals jobs and skills they'll need when the 15-year lease expires and Canodros relinquishes management.
We boarded motorized, wooden canoes for a 40-minute ride down the Pastaza River to Kapawi Lagoon. A row of thatched huts on stilts overlooks the water, all connected by walkways to preserve vegetation. The backdrop: a thick, green canopy of kapok, guava and palm trees.
Bark on the rough-hewn wood walls of each hut serves as wallpaper. Light gleams from tiny solar lamps. Gauzy white curtains flutter in the breeze. There are no phones, radios, or televisions. All 20 rooms have balconies over the water with hammocks. Surprisingly, there were very few mosquitoes. We were told we could swim in the milk-chocolate-colored lake because the piranhas were harmless. No one did.
Kapawi is environmentally friendly, one reason why it attracts politically correct celebrities such as Susan Sarandon. A solar-heated bag of water is available daily for showering, guests are asked to use biodegradable soaps and shampoos provided, and a trash recycling program handles waste.
The lodge's dining room has rich, wood flooring and tables. There's a lounge with library, a bar and a gift shop that sells primitive Achuar pottery and essentials such as flashlights; without a flashlight, it's a long, dark walk back to your hut after dinner. The cuisine is simple and good, with lots of local fruits, vegetables and seafood. The red Argentinean and Chilean wines, covered in the all-inclusive price, are excellent.
Guests may take overnight excursions or half-day hikes through a magical world filtered by sunlight and alive with the sounds of birds and the flash of colorful butterflies. There are so many rare butterflies, many have not yet been identified. David, our bilingual Ecuadorian guide, picked up a lemon-tree ant and urged us to eat it. "It's an excellent source of vitamin C," he insisted. "It tastes like citrus." He dined alone.
In Ishpingo, a local shaman prepared to perform a healing ritual on a man suffering from chest pains. Several of the shaman's wives, ages 15 to 60, greeted us. The head wife offered gourds of nijiamanch, a
drink made of fermented, previously chewed manioc. To refuse, David whispered, would insult our host. The shaman sat chain smoking Marlboros and digesting, David told us, natem—a hallucinogenic plant that would induce a trance and summon his healing powers. Then he began to chant and dance, blow cigarette smoke and spit on his patient's bald head. Finished, the perspiring sharnan sal down; the patient told us in Spanish he felt better. So did we—after the shaman's wives collected our gourds.
Heavy storms were predicted for departure day, and we were warned that our small aircraft might not be able to take off. That night, we prayed for rain.