By Victor Block
In some ways Railson is like many 17-year-old boys. He likes to fish, helps with household chores and enjoys hanging out with friends. But there are differences.
Railson's usual catch is piranha, the razor-toothed resident of South American rivers that can strip the flesh off an animal in minutes. His house is a tiny wooden hut built on stilts. And Railson and his buddies live in one of the most remote regions of the world — the Amazon basin of Brazil.
I met Railson on a visit to Amazonia, the massive rainforest that extends into nine countries, sprawling over an area about the size of India. The jungle is so dense that sunlight never reaches the forest floor beneath the tree canopy. A tangle of vines that would prompt Tarzan to howl with delight dangles from the highest branches. The treetops themselves are alive with flowers that bloom from seeds dropped by careless birds.
Only statistics can adequately describe the size and impact of the Amazonian ecosystem. It contains one-tenth of the earth's vegetation and animal species and one-fifth of its fresh water. The 4,000-mile Amazon River is the second longest in the world, surpassed only by the Nile, and 17 of its tributaries are more than 1,000 miles long.
My voyage aboard the M/V Tucano was on the Rio Negro (pronounced NAY-grow), a tributary that anywhere else would be considered a major river. It stretches nearly 18 miles across at its widest point.
Some 15,000 species of wildlife make Amazonia their home, but they aren't always easy to see. Some hide from the river banks in less accessible areas of forest. Others are nocturnal creatures that keep different hours from most people.
Even so, there are opportunities to see wildlife you've probably observed only in zoos, if at all. They include the giant river otter, three-toed sloth and porcupine. Gray and pink river dolphin abound. The latter captivate with their rosy hue and surprise with the piglike grunts and horselike snorts they emit.
More than 1,800 species of birds make the Amazon any bird-watcher's paradise. Red-billed toucan, scarlet macaw and green ibis live up to their names in their multihued coloration. Hoatzins, their heads adorned by a fan-shaped crest, demonstrate their reputation as awkward fliers and builders of rather messy nests.
Twice-daily excursions in an outboard-driven launch provided closer encounters with jungle denizens. Our guide, Souza, taught us to distinguish caiman, alligatorlike reptiles lying in wait for passing food, from the logs they resemble. He pointed out long-nose bats clinging to trees on the shoreline.
Hikes through stretches of jungle, following Souza as he hacked a pathway with a machete, also were productive. We weren't lucky enough to spot wild pigs or armadillos, which were on the "may see" list. But Souza pointed to what resembled a narrow branch until two beady eyes identified it as a snake. And I spotted the most magnificent and largest butterflies I've ever seen.
The treetops came alive with the chattering of monkeys. Squirrel monkeys peered down as I looked up at them. I saw and heard golden-handed tamarins and the yipping sounds of capuchins as they foraged in the trees. Aptly named howler monkeys emitted noises that carried for two miles.
Equally intriguing was a different kind of life that I encountered during visits to isolated villages that line the river banks. Most houses are made of crudely hewn wood planks. Small gardens provide vegetables; the surrounding forest adds fruits, nuts and medicinal plants, and the river yields piranha and other fish.
The majority of houses rest on stilts that keep them from being inundated during the rainy season, when the river can climb up to 40 feet. A few are floating structures that rise and fall with the water.
As we arrived at each village a few people came to the river's edge to greet our launch. Some offered seed-and-shell necklaces, woven baskets and other handicrafts for sale.
Encountering the Amazonian Indians put a human face on the extent and impact of deforestation in the region. This is of concern because Amazonian plant life produces one-third of the earth's oxygen.
Timber and mining operations along with soybean and other farming have taken a toll on the forest. In recent years awareness of the impact has prompted increased conservation steps. Brazil's government is protecting land in parks and reserves and has made large tracts of forest off-limits for development, logging and agriculture.
Conservation efforts include teaching people that fruit, nuts, wild game and other resources from the forest provide an endless source of income over a longer period than clearing the land.
Vast, untouched areas of the Amazonian jungle still remain to be experienced. That can mean peering at animals from a riverboat, tramping through the jungle thicket and interacting with village dwellers — like Railson.
WHEN YOU GO
Rivers rise dramatically during the January to May rainy season, and plants and trees fruit and flower, attracting animals to the water's edge. The high water enables boats to reach areas inaccessible at other times of year.
During dry season — roughly June to December — rivers run shallow and white sand beaches - excellent for a refreshing swim - appear. Animal-watching is good near pools of water where wildlife congregates, including birds that gather to feed upon migratory fish that lay their eggs.
I explored the area aboard the M/Y Tucano, a riverboat that accommodates up to 18 passengers in air-conditioned staterooms that are compact but comfortable. The buffet meals are excellent, featuring local produce, fish and recipes. Crew members are pleasant and helpful, and the guides are eager to share their vast knowledge of the Amazon.
For more information, call Latin American Escapes at 800-510-5999 or visit www.latinamericanescapes. com.
Victor Block is a freelance writer. To read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.
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