Feeling Invincible at My Most Vulnerable: Part 1

I’ll be breaking my jungle adventure into a three part series. Check back in the coming days for the end of my harrowing journey. It is long, but it is worth it. I promise. And if it’s not, I’ll buy you a pair of rain boots when I get back to the U.S.

It’s no secret that I grew up in the outdoors. I would say that a childhood of frolicking in swamps, canoeing down rivers, birch swinging with my brothers in the sand pit, and hiking in Wisconsin with the family has made me a fairly confident person when it comes to the outdoors. But when I get to a jungle? That all goes out the window. There are so many poisonous creatures lurking, so many trees I shouldn’t touch due to couple inch spikes like a needle carefully hidden along the trunk, so many fake paths to take, so many insects that can feast on my blood, that my outdoor confidence shrinks significantly. I would not say that I am terrified, but I would say that I am relatively wary.

In Ecuador, when helping plant guayusa beds, that wariness went away eventually. Soon, I was no longer wearing gloves when mixing dirt, and I was trudging in my rain boots through mixed rainforest farms to find the next perfect guayusa tree. And so I just assumed that since I found my confidence in Ecuadorean rainforests, I would not have to find it again when I hit Belize. I figured I would hit the ground running in my rain boots. That assumption, though? So wrong.

A few weeks ago, I joined my host organization, SATIIM, to participate in a damage assessment. Back in February, some very astute park rangers noticed that U.S. Capital Energy had illegally started clearing seismic lines through Conejo land. This seismic line is roughly 3 miles long and a couple feet wide (at this point, it was much larger before), and is cut through the jungle, leaving fallen trees and plants in its wake. While USCE cleared the line however, they never got to the exploratory drilling portion, as the rangers reported it, and action was taken against USCE, who was forced to halt all exploration in the district because of their actions. So, now that SATIIM grant money finally came through, SATIIM hired a consultant to walk the seismic line with community members, park rangers, and SATIIM interns to assess the damage. Sounds pretty easy, right? Again, so wrong.

As soon as I set out for the Belizean jungle in a team of 15, I knew I was going to be fighting a totally different beast than I had in Ecuador. For one thing, much of this national park and the community land surrounding it is swamp. You know what swamp means in the rainy season (in which we are right now)? It means flooded swamp. For another thing, we were going DEEP into the jungle. We were given an estimate of 45 minutes just to get to the seismic line. (That time estimate, I reckon, was made when considering the dry season, and considering that the person doing it is some type of super human, or a park ranger). Finally, I had a short acclimation period. I was going to be in the jungle for the rest of the day; I couldn’t afford to be slightly unnerved.

As the group started heading out, the four interns were struggling. It wasn’t that it was ungodly hot, or a steep hill, or that we were out of shape. No, it was that we were walking in sticky, suctiony mud/manure in rain boots that are great for this terrain, and also terrible for this terrain, and with which we have limited experience. Every step was an assessment of the highest bit of land, the least suctiony looking area. Every step was a forceful yank of your foot, accompanied by a large sucking noise. Every step was a cross of your fingers that you would be able to pull your foot out, complete with your rain boot. Because one thing you absolutely don’t want to do, is pull your foot out, and step in that muck without your boot. I, happily, only got truly stuck once on the way into the seismic line, and with the help of another intern, lots of swaying back and forth, and some digging with my hands through the manure and mud, freed my boots.

While we were daintily and slowly picking our way through this muck, our executive director and a handful of others darted off, still daintily picking their way through the muck, but looking like leprechauns as they did it, seemingly without regard for the slow foreigners. And in that way, it was us four interns and one, ever so helpful community member, who happens to be the Alcalde, attempting to coral us on the correct path, laughing at us, and encouraging us. While I greatly appreciated his encouragement, it did not make me feel invincible. What did make me feel invincible? Enter the walking stick. Noticing that we were struggling, and perhaps hoping to increase our pace, Alcalde McCoy cut four walking sticks for us. Those walking sticks turned out to be pure gold when attempting to extricate yourself from the mud, and later, when feeling for hidden holes in the swamp. 

Alcalde McCoy

And with the help of those walking sticks, testing the land, spreading the weight, and serving as an excellent item for leveraging our weight anytime we got stuck, we continued on. The five of us trudged up this muck hill, easily the most difficult part of the day (though definitely not the scariest or most disgusting) for about an hour, before reaching a small opening in the jungle, and three rangers waiting for us. We had survived the first test of the day: the muck hill, with the help of one kind soul and one simple item: a walking stick, an item that made me feel invincible as we clamored up the hill. And, upon entering the dense jungle, I had just met what would increase my feeling of invincibility, the park rangers…