2. Dubious Directions — Aram's Path

I was struggling in regards to my motivation for two of the main reasons I'd journeyed to Peru; the super foods business idea and Cecilia. My drive for each I would characterize as about 65% percent.

Maybe I could make an interesting living creating the story of my own brand, linking it to the jungles, highlands, and traditions of Peru, help communities along the way and afford my self an interesting lifestyle between the countries I loved. At the same time it was hard to get myself motivated about stocking and shipping inventory. I'm not a minutia guy; I'd always had an aversion to record keeping particularly where numbers were involved. This possibly stemmed from grade ten; the time Mr. St. Jean ridiculed me in front of the class for not being swift enough with an equation.

Cecilia was a lovely, intelligent, and attractive woman. She was also 30 and had always lived at home; a sheltered existence compared to my own. Independent travel and camping, two things I adored, were not part of her realm of experience. We got along well enough, but our level of connectedness was nothing out of the ordinary. And, there was another issue; Larissa. Larissa was a very cute girl I'd met passing customs where she worked as an agent, on one of my business trips. We'd gone out a couple of times and stayed in touch. Now that I was back in Peru, she wanted to see me. And I realized I wanted to see her too. But how to do this without upsetting Cecilia, who was communicating as if we were already in a committed relationship. I got it; I'll just tell Cecilia I'm heading to the jungle (town of Iquitos) for market research, a few days earlier than planned, and see Larissa in the interim.

I continued my superfoods research during the day, meeting with a couple of suppliers on the dry and dusty outskirts of Lima. That night I connected with Larissa, a young beauty, who also suffered from anxiety disorder and depression. They say there's someone out there for everyone, but now that I reached my 40s I was beginning to wonder. In the meanwhile, until I found the "full package" I would have to make do with dating people who had some of the attributes I enjoy in a partner. The date was enjoyable, and before bed I browsed Facebook while eating a cup of yogurt, and made a random post.

I woke up pensive struggling with my life and dating direction, and as such was looking forward to Josh's arrival the next day. I'd known Josh the better part of a 15 years, since we were young interns in Lima on a 6 month government of Canada program. Josh had always been a resilient man. At 23, I'd had the time of my life in Lima, and was enamoured with my then Peruvian girlfriend Jessica. However when my six month internship was up, although I wanted to stay, I'd lacked the courage to do so. Josh, on the other hand, had endeavoured to stay on in Peru. He'd started dating Jessica's best friend Cindy and secured a full time role at the company he was interning at. He ended up marrying Cindy, and eventually they'd moved to Florida and had three lovely kids together. Josh, lost his job during the financial meltdown in 2008, and with four mouths to feed in a dire economy started a business renovating repossessed homes for the banks. Many of these had been trashed by their resentful former owners. The stories he'd tell; scrubbing shit smeared walls! My point is, Josh was a man with the ability to overcome adversity, who always found a way to reinvent himself. Hopefully some of that entrepreneurial spirit of his would rub off on me. Just then I noticed a number of texts from Cecilia "what you're in Lima?". My heart sunk to my chest, Facebook must of indicated my location as in Lima when I posted. I was busted.

Needless to say it wasn't my best day, I vainly tried to make up an excuse to recover from my deception, but knew it was no use. If there were a silver lining to my doldrums it was that I recognised my pain while real, was at about a 7 level. It was as much the shame of being caught in a lie, as anything. Despite my flaws, I do have a conscious. Were I mourning the loss of whom I saw real life partner potential however, I'm sure I would have been at least an 8 or a 9 in grief. Life goes on.

The following day I rendezvous'ed with Josh at the Lima Int'l airport. You couldn't miss him, six foot and large, reddish face and hair that had gone very white at a young age. He didn't so much walk but strode with his arms swinging out in front then behind, especially his right warm which he'd swing almost in an arch shaking his hand at the wrist every time his arms reached full extension in front or back. "Hey buddy!" he said. "Are you ready for a great adventure in the jungle". "Yessir Tex" I said, I called him Tex as his parents wintered in the lone star state and he was a bit of cowboy. On the flight I learned that he was getting the gringo run-around trying to secure the deed to the property he'd been trying to purchase in the Amazon since shortly after our Ayahuasca experience about five months prior. He'd been back twice to Peru, and still didn't have it in his hands. He explained he already paid an advance on the property, but every time he went someone needed money for something, be it the owner for an errand related to the transaction, Elisa a local contact of ours who was helping out, or some corrupt official in the lands office needing a greasing to get it on top of the pile.

The plane gradually descended over the eastern slope of the Andes, clearings in the clouds revealed snaking rivers through dense tropical forests as far as the eye could see, no sign of roads, clearings, or man's intervention anywhere. Finally the imminent landing bell sounded and you could see the square and rectangular shapes of simple houses and buildings amid lush green palms and tree tops as we hovered over Iquitos. Peru's jungle metropolis had always fascinated me; a buzzing city of several hundred thousand people and the largest inland city of its size in the world apparently. that could only be reached by boat or plane. Thousands of kilometres of jungle and rivers surrounded it that no highway had ever penetrated. When we stepped out of the plane down onto the the mobile metal stairs to descend to the tarmac, a delicious wave of heat and humidity hit immediately. The air fragranced by a combination of moisture and the endless abundance of flora as it was surrounded and enmeshed by perhaps the most naturally vibrant region on earth. We quickly grabbed our bags off the single carousel, and waded through a dozen or so hawking taxi drivers, to grab a moto-taxi, a scooter pulling a covered cart, into town.

I'd always loved riding in moto taxis in warm tropical climes, Iquitos, Saigon, Yogyakarta, something about the warm tropical wind blowing against your face, open air, and a being in a different world with scores of moto-taxis, tuk tuks, or whatever the local term depending on the equatorial region you found yourself. In Iquitos as in many of these places, the scooters far outnumbered cars, buzzing by and around in droves. As a gringo/white person sticking out, you were often the subject of stares and smiles. I just then noticed Josh preoccupied with his phone. "Its Elisa" he said, "she won't stop bugging me". Elisa was a guide who worked with Esteban Antonio, the shaman I'd found through a trusted contact in Iquitos. Josh had ended up bedding her, and then later got her to help him with the land purchase. Josh wasn't looking for anything more. She was after all ten years his senior and a grandmother at that! Albeit in his defense she was fairly youthful looking for her age. Still... Elisa however had become enamoured with the gringo fever. At the same time she was in need of work and money, which turned out to be a bad combo for Josh. Josh agreed to meet up with her at Arie's burger in the "Plaza de Armas" main square.

We both checked into our respective rooms in the Hotel Reina Victoria, a long narrow hotel fronting on Jiron Prospero, a block and a half from the Plaza. For fifteen dollars a night, the small rooms weren't bad; a worn double bed, tiled walls, small bedside table, cabinet, old TV, bath and shower. While Josh went to meet Elisa, I decided to take a stroll towards the Amazon river boardwalk. Iquitos had seen its hay day in the 19th century rubber boom. European traders had come by the thousands to the predominantly indigenous city, whose first European founders were the Jesuits about a century prior. The city became the center of export of rubber production from the Amazon Basin and was the headquarters of the Peruvian Amazon Company. The operations of PAC's forces in the Basin, who kept indigenous workers in near slavery conditions through use of force and harsh treatment was investigated by Roger Casement, the British consul-general in Peru. He had investigated labor conditions for natives in the Congo Free State when it was under King Leopold's control, reporting on the abuse of thousands of workers. His 1913 exposure of abuses of Peruvian workers caused a reaction against the company among the several British members of its board and many stockholders. The company struggled financially and lost backing in the UK. In addition, rubber seedlings had been smuggled out of the country and cultivated on plantations in Southeast Asia. Asian competition and then artificial rubber precipitated the city's long decline. Remnants of its former splendour could be seen in some of the historic venetian tiled buildings with Julienne balconies, most in varying states of decay.

At the corner where Prospero met the main square, stood the "Casa de Fierro" an iron mansion designed by Gustave Eiffel himself. I took a right and headed to the boardwalk catching my first glimpse of the mighty Amazon. Peering across to its islands and vast green southern bank, you'd never guess there was a major city at your back. I was by now hungry and thirsty, so headed over to one of the boardwalk cafe's built into the old historic buildings on its edge. A strange looking European fellow with dirty blonde hair and large bulging eyes peeked my attention. He reminded me of a slightly better looking version of the guy from Wes Craven's "the Hills have Eyes". Out of curiosity I decided to sit down at the table beside him and strike up a conversation.