10 Hours and Counting

April 21, 2011

Ten hours in the same place on this lancha. This whole trip has been ridiculous. We were supposed to leave on Sunday, today is Thursday. We decided in a meeting a week earlier that we would be leaving Sunday the 17th. That turned into Monday, which turned into Tuesday in which we had a flat tire on the way to the port, the boat then decided it wasn’t going to leave. Tuesday then turned into Wednesday evening at 8 o’clock.

With all of our stuff loaded into the cargo boat, we were off to Inahuaya, a little town upriver that is home to three of our Peruvian boys. The SM’s, Wendy and Cecilia all played 7-up until the boat captain came and asked us for our names, nationality, and passport numbers, the latter of which we all made up because we didn’t have our passports with us. Oh, Peru, I love it.

We played until the cook kicked us off the table. We all decided it would be a good time to get settled and go to bed. We made our way downstairs into the crowded cargo area. Actually, crowded would be putting it mildly. Every inch of space was filled with food items being imported to the smaller river towns, smelly chickens, or bodies. It made for a pleasant smell. Even the air space was filled with hammocks strung up so close you could feel the person next to you breathing. My place of “rest” was wedged under Rachel and Rebecca and next to some guy I didn’t know. His feet lay conveniently six inches from my face. I wrapped my hammock around myself and tried to get comfy.

At 12:30 AM I was awakened to my hammock swinging wildly back and forth and mothers screaming. The engine was revving quite loudly. We were stuck on a sand bank. Great. Apparently being stuck on a sand bank can be dangerous, there is a chance that the boat could tip over. In my groggy state I prayed that we would get unstuck soon and that I wouldn’t wake up swimming in the Ucayali river.

I awoke at 6:00 am to an aroma mixture of body odor, wet chickens, and warm soggy onions. Probably the worst combination in the world. I felt nauseous, but there was no way I was getting out of my hammock and to the edge of the boat soon. So I thought happy thoughts and suppressed the nauseous feeling. With that abated, we sat a waited to get off the sandbank. It was getting quite hot and stuffy because of the lack of airflow. We passed the time by reading, chatting, and snacking. Oh, did I mention that throughout all of this I was fighting some bicho in my stomach. I had gurgly gut the whole time and was praying that the war going on in my stomach wouldn’t decide to retreat out the exit.

It was starting to get rough about hour 7 on the boat. One lady tried to start a revolt. “People, we need to get off this boat. Children are starving. We need to rally anyone we know who lives on the river with a small boat to come and take the women and children out of here. Who is with me? Everyone to the front of the boat!” It was comical.
Finally, about 11:00 am on the 21st, we found a way out of the sand bank after trying to hail down various other boats. Everyone let out a hoot and holler and shout of rejoicing over our freedom. I felt like music should be playing and people should be crying and hugging each other. But the rejoicing only lasted a minute and then we were on our way.

So, here I am now, hanging out in my hammock, Steph is next to me working on her dreads, a parrot is overhead. Every now and then he squawks out an, “hola,” or, “corre corre corre,” on rare occasions a, “papi, ven!” It’s cute, and the parrot is pretty.

A breeze blows as long as we’re moving and the green luscious jungles slowly pass as we make our way down the river to Inahuaya. I pray that despite all the craziness we’ve gone through to getting here, God will still work through us. We’ll see where he leads.