Saturday, May 25, 2013

jungle survival


Another Amazon activity we signed up for: Survivor Day.

On Survivor Day some guides take you on a long hike through the jungle and show you how to do stuff like build a palm shelter and a make rotisserie out of sticks and rig an animal trap using just vines and branches and discern which trees will ooze vick's vap-o-rub and milk of magnensium and which twigs you can smoke like stoges. All you need is a machete.

The Ariau Treetop Hotel is very proud of having hosted a season of Survivor. And now i'm uber proud to have a certificate from Ariau that brags about how I, Cill, survived some serious shit too. The Surviver Day.

Our guide was this incredible dude named Gerson, a Manaus native who'd done a whole nightmarish military training in the jungle, in which he had to live off the land for weeks, distinguishing what stuff could be eaten and stepped on without getting the shits or getting killed or getting killed-by-way-of-the-shits.

And a big part of the training is to do all this while your military superiors yell at you. Like right into your face.

I don't like snakes or getting yelled at, so I had tremendous respect for Gerson. Plus I ate jungle stuff he approved of and I didn't get the shits.

But I felt kind of sad wondering what kind of warfare his rigorous training has prepared young Gerson for. I mean, he is without a doubt the most badass and resourceful rainforest magician ever, plus he's jacked and he has a machete. But what if like, a tank suddenly rolled in here? What then?

But then another part of me was just like duh, Gerson would build a foot trap out of some vines that would fucking flip tanks over and catapult them back to explode wherever they came from. He's pretty awesome.

Anyway, there's no story here. Tickby just thinks it's funny that I puked and I got a certificate anyway. The only thing ARGUABLY funny about how I puked is that I thought nobody knew I was puking because I snuck off into some bushes to puke. Tickby told me later that in fact everyone knew I was puking, and one of our co-survivors - an articulate and hilarious surgeon from Idaho - asked Tickby if I needed medical help.

But i didn't. Because I'm a survivor.


No comments:

Post a Comment