3. The Lost Boys

So I sat down at a table on the sun drenched patio, and after a minute or two, leaned over and commented "traveling?".  My intriguing neighbour responded with a grin "Kind of but I live here now" with a central European sounding accent.  It didn't take me long to uncover that Dominik had come originally seeking the "plant medicine", code for Ayahuasca, the mother of psychotropic "consciousness altering" or hallucinogenic plants discovered by Amazonian healers or "shamans" hundreds of years or more ago and used in their healing rituals.   It's a vine and main ingredient of what many claim as a miraculous cure to psycho-spiritual ailments; substance addictions or psychological disorders; the "baggage" that people consciously or unconsciously carry around which prevent them reaching their full potential and happiness.  It's been attributed to curing heroin addiction, alcoholism, depression, amongst other severe afflictions.  While many travel to partake in an ayahuasca ceremony in the hope of treating a specific ailment, others do so simply for the experience or in the hope of having the wise insights of "Mother Ayahuasca" imparted on them.  I count myself as one of the latter, but if I had to guess, I'd say Dominik was one of the former.  After ten minutes or so of getting acquainted a couple of other travellers showed up; a mid thirtyish looking guy with a short stuble beard and baseball cap, and a slightly younger appearing asian gal wearing a brown bohemian style sleeveless dress, and bead jewellery.  John was from New York, and Astrid was Russian-Vietnamese, who had lived many years in London prior to coming to Peru to study the plant medicines.  We fell into the near instant type of camaraderie that open minded travellers tend to develop in adventurous locations off the beaten path.  It didn't take long for instance for John, an amicable guy, to completely open up to having been in Iquitos several months already treating his issues with alcoholism and other issues with a number of plant medicines.  They seemed quite a close group, but appeared all to have met while seeking what they were looking for in Peru.  Just then a dark haired, light skinned, hazel eyed girl showed up that immediately caught my eye.  She smiled and hugged all her comrades, and even lightly and amicably me, saying "hola, Rory" giving her name with a smile.   She had nice almond shaped eyes, a soft roundish face yet with pronounced cheekbones, and slightly below the shoulder thick dark wavy raven coloured hair.  I also could not help but notice her healthy curves. 

The chat indelibly wound back and forth on the topics of plant medicines, spiritual retreat lodges that a couple of those around the table had worked at, and friends and acquaintances, mainly fellow travellers, the group had met.  I then felt a slight vibration in my pocket.  Pulling out my phone, three messages popped up on my screen “where are you dude!?” “I’ve got BIG news.” “I’m at La Flor de Tejas with a pitcher of Crystal” (Peruvian beer).   It was Josh, who’d been trying to reach me.  I realized I’d been gone quite a while, lost in conversation with this strange group of travelers, with whom I’d felt a natural connection.  I told my new acquaintances I had to go.  I’d already got Johnny, Astrid, and Roman’s Facebooks.  I went around the table giving half shoulder hugs, and when I got to Astrid she said “I’m having a going away BBQ for Roxy at my place in Laguna Negra Friday, night.  My heart unexpectedly sunk to hear Rory was leaving, but I was happy to oblige.  “Yeah I think so sounds fun. Can I bring my buddy?”  She said “sure, we’ll be all throwing in for food, and there’s a beer store nearby.  Text me Friday, and I’ll send directions, its’ on the edge of town”. 

I paid my bill, and head down the boardwalk towards the Flor de Tejas a couple blocks down around the corner towards the plaza.  I had a spring in my step, happy I’d connected with an intriguing social circle, and delighted just to be in this place, as a gentle breeze off the river tempered the warm tropical air.  Josh was sitting on the wood framed veranda at a similarly deep brown coloured table, one hand holding the handle of the pitcher, and the other his sty.  When he saw me a big grin appeared on his face, and he kicked out the chair in front of him so I could take a seat.  “Buddy I got it”.  “What the deed?” I said with cautious optimism”.  “YES!”.  “What? How? Awesome!”  I’d learn that Josh had sent his crafty Peruvian buddy Ivan from Lima a couple weeks prior to either get his money back or make sure Nita came through with the deed.  I sipped on a cold one as he recounted how Ivan had shown up to Nita's place with Freddy, his cop friend in uniform, saying that she was under investigation for fraud from a Gringo, who had provided proof to her of their agreement, either she had to sign off on the final papers or return the funds, or else would face jail time.  Elisa had showed up with Nita at Ari's, more than eager to sell. When Josh paid her the $7,000 remainder for the land a fortune she’d never seen equivalent to all her adult life’s earnings, she was only glad to leave her drunk husband and move with her two young children a couple hundred kilometers up river to where her mom lived, and open a shop.  In parallel Ivan had provided a facilitation payment to the lands office coordinator, and a couple day’s later, Josh was the owner of eighteen hectares of prime riverfront Amazonian rainforest land.  I rolled my eyes, laughed, and we both took a big swig, smiled, and high-fived.     

We began planning the big build right away.  At this point I hadn't yet told Josh that I was going to stay, but my mind was moving swiftly in that direction.  What greater adventure than building a lodge in the Amazon; I day dreamed of holistic business opportunities in super foods, herbs, and maybe the transcendental yet controversial healing powers of ayahuasca, amongst a half a dozen conventional and non-conventional ideas, let alone the personal growth and life opportunities doing that would engender.  Between my severance and savings, I could pay off all my debts and would still have about sixty grand in the bank.  I figured I could live on half of that well for a year in Loreto, but out in the bush it would be much much less.  The butterflies stirred a combo of nervousness and giddiness as I felt on the brink of doing something completely unconventional and out there; something that would break my own mould.  

The next day (Wednesday) the planning continued in earnest.  There was literally nothing on the land but Nita's shack.  A two small room and patio, wooden hovel, with no insulation, no plumbing, not even glass windows, rather push open wooden ones.  It was slightly lifted up from the ground by its wooden base to provide some protection from floods, snakes and other ground hazards.    We needed to turn that into our temporary base of operations from which to live in to direct the big build of the lodge.  A good drinking water supply was essential, we figured we'd need at least 10 litres a day, considering a crew consisting of Ivan, Josh, myself, and a couple local work hands skilled in wooden construction.  A saw table and outdoor extension chords.  A diesel generator would be required to provide electricity for the wood saws, drills, edging and other power tools we'd also need.  A dozen or so litres of fuel to run it daily.  We'd need food for half a dozen men, two or three meals a day, depending on how local we could find the help.  That probably meant hiring a local woman to do the meal preparation.  Gas stove and canisters.  What to do about refrigeration?  Dig an outhouse, toilet paper supplies, bug spray, first aid supplies, hamocks, sleeping bags, the list went on and on. 

On top of it all, Josh warned that it was a bit of an adventure just to get there.  The route out to the property consisted of taking an old bus 45 minutes to Nauta where the main road ended, another 25 minutes in moto taxi over poor dirt roads, to a small river port, and then another 20 minutes by “peke peke” or put put motored canoe hired from the village.  And that if everything worked out seamlessly, which it rarely ever did in the tropics.