Day 1: Iquitos

One sleepless night at the Lima Starbucks and a malaria pill later, finally boarded the Star Peru flight to Iquitos. The plane was a small 60 person aircraft which we were bused out to (all 60-70 of us squeezed into a small Star Peru bus) and boarded on the tarmac. It was only after takeoff that I realized, trapped at the window with a sleeping mother/daughter pair between the aisle and me, that I had stowed my camera overhead.

Go go itouch phone!

Morning, Peru

 

We had a layover somewhere along the way but I fell asleep before we landed and didn't wake up again until we were already descending into Iquitos. First thought:

This. Is. Insane.

There was nothing but rainforest and river on the horizon- nothing but this enormous expanse of trees, unbroken for miles and miles and miles. As we sunk lower to the ground, I could start to see details like the crowns of individual trees, or the enormous bird (some kind of hawk) circling high above the canopy, or the tiny wooden boats drifting along the waterway. And then before you know it, there were houses. We passed over small shanties and lean-tos, flew over burned patches of what was once forest. Over roads. Over fields. And down, into Iquitos.

I met Chris at the airport on the tarmac as we walked across the concrete to retrieve our bags. Aside from a third biologist in training (a would be forester who carried a chainsaw on board the aircraft-!) we were the only two gringos. We managed to catch an 'taxi' without too much trouble- drivers were actually actively lowering their prices to compete with each other and I learned never to let them take your bag because you'll have a hell of a hard time getting it back without getting a ride in the process, but it wasn't as crazy as I thought it would be. I was more worried about the luggage falling out the back than anything else, honestly, but despite our driver careening nosily through traffic and sometimes on the wrong side of the road, our bags managed to cling miraculously to the back of our motor taxi.

More townbound motor taxis

My bag displaying its spider-man like prowess

From the airport it was roughly a 20 minute ride to La Pascana- our hostel of choice located in the primera cuadra (first block) of the Pevas district. This side of Iquitos seems to be more run down than the areas we passed en route, with the majority of the streets and buildings undergoing some kind of construction or de-construction that leaves the roads filled with dirt and piles of rubble. La Pascana itself is a pleasant if utilitarian hostel with small rooms but a nice lounge type area complete with a coffee shop (staffed by the receptionist) and free wi-fi (which is how I get to share my glorious ramblings here and now.)

After a quick pit spot and a fast round of introductions to the crew (Adam, Louis, Todd, Chris, Sam, Katie, Veronica, etc.) we decided to take to the streets and visit the local market. And all I can say is I should've brought my camera because, fuck. That was an experience.

This isn't a tourist market. There aren't people selling cheap bracelets and hand-carved beads. This is a get your hands dirty, buy what you need to live, kind of place, populated by mange-covered dogs, hordes of flies, and thousands and thousands of pieces of trash. This is a market that sells monkeys on ropes and hawks in cages. Women cut slices into silver fish and hack the heads off an armored variety plated in interlocking black scales. Men sell cell phones and chargers next to rows of chickens gutted and disemboweled so their hearts, kidneys, and livers can all be examined for purchase. Big fat river turtles, black and orange-striped, are butchered in a similar way, ripped open along their bottom shell. Their undeveloped eggs are considered some kind of delicacy and are proudly displayed, embedded bright orange in the pink chunks of their hindquarters.  There are anaconda skins hung from stall poles like rolled up flags, jaguar and ocelot pelts stretched taut and dry on boards. Young children peddle roots for a sol while their mothers grind chili powders to hang, red and gold, in bags above their heads.

I've already promised myself I'd go back to take some pictures of the absolute controlled chaos of the Iquitos market- but it's going to have to wait until after we return from the field (sometime in early September). We have a field meeting tonight in an hour, then its shower, dinner, bed.

Might go for another serving of arroz con pollo- only mama, aqui no es 'arroz con pollo' es 'chaufa' o 'chaucfa' or algo asi. Es la misma cosa pero aqui el arroz tiene huevos tambien: parece mas como un 'fried rice' plate lunch!