Diary of a jungle solitude

Here I am in the middle of the Amazon in a wooden house under an awning so as not to be easy prey for mosquitoes, there is no internet signal or network to call my mom, days have passed and whatsapp no longer shows me statuses and Facebook and Instagram they’re blank because they don’t update anymore, i didn’t download podcasts or music so here i am totally and absurdly alone. Absurdly? Yes, was it what you wanted? Yes, was it what you expected? No, I never thought it was like this, was it what I needed? Yes, but I didn’t understand this until the last day at the Leticia airport when, afraid to return, I felt the last tears running down my face, when I shed the last tears alone.

 

Walking, sweating, drinking water, protecting myself from mosquitoes, serving the monkeys, bathing in totumadas twice a day, talking with the indigenous people of the community, eating delicious food and crying, this is my routine the first few days, while I walk through the jungle I think, how bad will I be to be walking through the jungle to see and take care of monkeys and cry along the way? My breath goes out and I have to stop, do the breathing exercises that my psychologist taught me and continue. Nights go by and the storm between the sky and the jungle seems to join the nightmares of my dreams, I wake up, I toss and turn in bed without bringing my feet too close to the awning for fear of mosquitoes, there is no way to turn on the light because it only comes during the day. I close my eyes to try to sleep and the pattering of the raindrops on the house and the roar of the trees do not let me, I remember that perhaps I have a book downloaded to my cell phone, I search and there it is, The Alchemist, by Mr. Paulo Coelho ready to be my night partner. The phrase «Nobody manages to escape from their heart, that’s why it’s better to listen to what it tells you», suddenly jumps from the screen like a bucket of cold water to remind me why I had started this journey and as if the jungle had heard my thoughts. , we started the process of listening to my heart together.

 

Now the tears are more conscious, why are you crying? What do you think activates it? Do you want to stop crying or do you want to cure the root? I ask myself these questions as if I were an external person to whom I must answer yes or yes and between words I find the answers, I know perfectly well what activates it and I know that I want to cure it from the roots and since the jungle and I were in this process, she he took care of sending me all his magic in the exact amount in which I needed it. It is seven at night and I am sitting in the patio of the house that I have called home these days, nervous, anxious and full of faith, suddenly I can perceive the smoke that is around me, its smell, its color, its texture when it runs down my feet and my arms, I feel the warm breath of this being sent by the jungle when the smoke rises above my head, I hear what it says, but it doesn’t say it to me, it lifts it up to the sky, how long have I been here? Minutes, hours? I don’t know, but I don’t want to get up, how peaceful it feels here. What are they doing to me? I am very comfortable and calm not knowing that this will be the first night where I will not have nightmares. I wake up under the awning and it’s a new day and my mind already feels clear, 2 more nights of this and I hardly remember why I was crying, I’m sleeping well and my routine here no longer includes crying. I keep writing, I keep taking my process out of the ancestral and the jungle sends me gifts again, I’m no longer with the monkeys, I’m in a maloca living with indigenous people, which I got to walking for hours through the jungle, here less signal and less light, my bed here is a hammock to which luckily we can adapt an awning. Is there something more magical than the songs of the indigenous people? I don’t understand anything, but I know that they are singing to the creator, to the animals, to the jungle and its benefits, all in their dialect. Listening to them fills me with peace, knowing and experiencing their medicine heals my being. My body is so at the limit of what it could ever have been, I have walked for hours, I have not bathed properly for days, my clothes are full of sweat that also do not dry quickly when I wash them, they feel strange on my skin and my back, not used to sleeping in a hammock, has a slight pain. Of course, I am amazed that I am not more tired or sore. Human beings are definitely an animal of habit.

 

I am finally bathing under a shower, I feel clean and about to receive another gift from the jungle, here Amazonian medicine comes to life in food and in baths with plants. Is there something more delicious? I lose myself among the flavors of what they serve me for breakfast and not to mention the ingredients for lunch, eating rich makes me happy. Now I start my baths, my body needs rest and for this they prepare water for me with a mixture of different plants taken from the garden, I bathe my legs and with massages I pamper them and thank them. And the most amazing bath I ever imagined, a bath for my period days, nature wise p

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Lorena Roa
 

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Julian Rodriguez
 
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