In the river of dreams: exploring the Amazon

The dark waters of the Rio Negro swirled with the strong breeze as I peered excitedly out of the open motor boat along the fringes of the Amazon forests. We had left the harbour at Manaus more than an hour ago, with the rain drumming over the stretched tarpaulin overhead. Soon, we would be near the famed confluence of the rivers. The River Negro was so called because of the darkness of the waters. But if you were to scoop some into your palms, the water would sparkle in its natural transparency. After some distance, the water merges with the River Solimoes, and here we were cruising along the waves of the intersection (Encontro das Aguas, as the Brazilians say). It is quite strange that when the yellowish-whitish Solimoes runs into the dark waters of the Negro, there is no intermingling. Together, they pour into the Amazon, and the river mouth is so wide that I couldn’t see the horizon any more. The Amazon is no doubt widest at this point.

After pulling over to a couple of houseboats which strategically mark off territories and offer short breaks with refreshments and facilities, we move in silence into the Amazon forests. At first, the forests appear as blotches in the distance merging with the darkness of the cloudy skies and the moving waters below, and then they begin to close in overhead. The last remaining rainforests of the Brazilian Amazon are exotic and exciting. My heart kept beating with the thrill of boyhood dreams being realised; marvelling at the sheer majestic heights of the trees and the lushness of the fronds and creepers. I even forgot my camera dangling from my neck; the experience was exhilarating. There were strange bird calls and the intense smell of wet earth hung over everything.

Dream come true

In my childhood, I used to imagine that if one were to keep digging a tunnel into the earth, one could end up on the other side of the globe, and so from my part of the world I could perhaps surface in the heart of the Amazon in Brazil! Later, when I came across Latin American literature, the phrase magical realism proffered such possibilities in the world of imagination. Of course, I had travelled across deserts and rivers and traversed mountains and seas on the magic carpet of creativity long enough. Nevertheless, my journey to Brazil and to the fringes of the Amazon was a dream come true. When I was invited to deliver a plenary lecture at the International Conference on the Demise of Nature organised at the Federal University of Amazonas in Manaus, I was excited at the prospect of entering the almost pristine Amazonian rainforests. And finally here I was in a boat over the legendary river, alive and in the thick of my dream.

Recalling the 1997 adventure film Anaconda by Peruvian director Luis Llosa shot around this area, I was disappointed that I did not encounter the snake! A brief albeit tiring trek allowed me to take a peek into the jungle’s secrets. It is a mixture of awe and calm that descends in the sublimity of silence deep within. After all, only when you have to leave a place do you realise the brevity of your being there. One lifetime is certainly not enough to explore the magnificence of the Amazon. As a Russian friend had long ago advised me, I silently toss a coin overboard, praying for my return to this same spot sometime soon enough. “Amazonia!” some of the young people with us sing and dance with the moving waters, as we break the spell of the magical circle of the jungle.

The indigenous tribal village that we move into soon becomes a space for cultural interaction. The Tupe Indians had organised a ritual dance to entertain us. The high-pitched flutes and their swaying rhythms were bewitching. In the intense quiet of the jungle I watched a small boat dance in the wind and waters. Not many people from my part of the world are fortunate enough to see this, I thought. All the way back as the boat rocked in the wind, the rhythms of the dance echoed in my insides: Amazonas!