The Trek to Angel Falls

Now where did we leave off from last time?  I think we were on a boat....for a very long time.  But as I said before, the beauty of the land served as a good enough distraction until, as we rounded yet another bend in the river, we saw what we all thought definitely HAD to be Angel Falls.  It was stunningly tall, and though the flow was not very large, it was clear we were beholding a massive and spectacular naturally wonder.

Our boat pulled over at a camp on the opposite side of the falls.  We took our bags and scrambled up the bank, only to find a structure with a roof that covered some tables and hammocks.  I was super pumped.  I am a hammock lover through and through and I was actually pretty thrilled to get to spend the night in the jungle in hammocks. We threw down out stuff and ran along the bank to get a closer look at the falls.  See exhibit A:

After some exploring around the camp, we were served some great chicken, straight out of the firepit.  Then, we unknowingly began the longest game of Uno ever played.  Our new friends from the neighboring international school in Caracas had their nine year old daughter Elka on the trip, and since I had brought Uno, I asked her if she would want to play.  Given that there was nothing else to do at night in the jungle, we ended up having eight players- Elka and seven adults who had nothing better to do than relive their childhoods.  The first game was innocent enough. The second game, however, became an all out war of pick fours.  In the end, if got so dark that we donned headlamps, and finally, since we couldn't tell the greens from the blues and yellows from reds, we simplified the game by calling everything orange or teal, which ended things swiftly enough.  Then it was to the hammocks for night.  You would be surprised how cold it gets at night the jungle.  I was so happy that I had the insight to throw my little jacket in my bag at the last minute because I definitely needed it. In the morning, coffee was definitely a necessity, not so much for the pick me up (since waking up in a hammock in the jungle is enough of a pick me up) but for the warmth.  

Everyone got up and ready fairly quickly, and after some eggs, juice and coffee we hopped on a boat to cross the river and took off for a hour hike up to the base of the falls. Churun was a great guide, showing us all kinds of cool things in the jungle, like insect eating plants and different species of orchids.  The hike wasn't so hard, thanks to Ivan's death-defying Avila training course; I even kept up with Gordon, though I did wear my knee braces for good measure.  Jackie, Gordon and I were the first to the view point, and then went tearing down the mountain with great excitement in search for the pool at the base of the falls.  The hike to the pool was every bit as treacherous as the Avila.  Steep, rocky and slick, it was more like mountain climbing than a hike.  At one point when Gordon had gone out of view, Jackie and I were sure we were lost in the jungle.  Without food or water, we figured we would last about three hours before being eaten by wolves.  Thankfully, we carried on and soon found Gordon and the breathtaking pool at the base of Angel Falls.

I can't really describe what it was like there.  I mean, here we are, at the base of the worlds tallest waterfall, in a jungle that so few people have ever laid eyes on, swimming in this cold, clear pool being fed by this roaring falls, overlooking scene that was just to vast and wild and enchanting to put into words.  I mean, just look at this! Just being there, with the sun and water and jungle and falls...it just doesn't get more terrifying and enchanting and mesmerizing.  

We stayed for a number of hours there, just basking in the awesomeness of the place.  I mean, it took so much god damn effort to get there, we should have stayed all day.  But alas, hunger and thirst set in and we reluctantly made our way down the mountain.  We were particularly reluctant knowing that we had to get back in the boat again for another three hours.  Back at the camp, we ate lunch, packed our things and got on the boat.  Churun advised us to bring our rain jackets, and good thing too, because within twenty minutes the skies opened up and it just poured.  Let me tell you what's worse than a Greyhound bus ride- three hours in the rain on a wooden canoe   To be fair, it didn't rain the whole time, but long enough for Gordon to be very, very whiny.  When Churun announced that we were going to visit one more waterfall- Salto Sapo (Toad Waterfall for all you Gringos), Gordon was not pleased.  See exhibit B:

I have to admit, I was pretty wet and cold myself, but Sapo was worth it to see, because we got to walk behind the falls, which was a super neat experience.  I also learned that if you wear socks on slick rocks, you don't slip!  So when I finally get all my pictures posted, that will explain why I am always wearing socks and a bathing suit! See exhibit C:

We finally made it back to the lagoon that the base camp was on after dark and another canoe was there to take us back to the camp.  While we were in the boat, Churun pointed out the only bar in the village on the edge of water about a 15 minute walk from where we were staying. Gordon became remarkably more chipper.  At camp, we retrieved our stuff from the closet, which apparently stayed locked as my passport, cash and suitcases were unmolested. After a cold shower (ALL WE WANTED WAS A FREAKING HOT SHOWER!), we had a nice meat-filled dinner and headed to the bar.  There, we drank overpriced beers and Cubolibres, made the DJ play Guns and Roses and basically reveled in the awesomeness of dry clothes and alcohol.  At that point in the trip, none of us had any idea where we were going next (since no one read the itinerary), but we knew it would be hard to top what we had seen so far.

As it turns out, it wasn't that hard.  But our adventures in Uruyen and Kavac will have to wait until another night:).  

Our Adventure to the Heart of Venezuela: Part One

I just had the most epic vacation.  Eight days and seven nights traipsing all over heart of Venezuela.  This post will probably end up being split into multiple, as there are so many things I want to share with you all, but for now, we start at the beginning.

In the beginning there was Tracey and there was Gordon and there was Jackie and there was Walli and we all had a fall break.  We were/are quite the band of misfits, with our one commonality being that we all work at CIC and all needed something to do for a vacation.  Walli is a math teacher and grandmother of 16 who doesn't eat meat and is a better hiker/climber/swimmer/adventurer than I could ever hope to be.  Jackie loves chocolate, dogs, and adventure, but not bugs and not sleeping in the jungle during an earth quake.  Gordon is our magic Scot who prefers beer to water and somehow managed not to get tired of women after spending eight days with the same three.  So, us four decided that Angel Falls would be our destination.  Salto Angel, as it is called in Spanish, is the world's largest waterfall. It lies on the northwest side of Canaima National Park inside of what the indigenous Pemon people call a Tepuy, which is basically one of these fantastically awesome mesas that just rise out of nowhere in the middle of the Venezuelan savanna.  Had you asked me what a Tepuy was before last week, I would have looked at you, blinked, and said "Lo siento, otra vez?" Basically, all four of us walked into this trip completely blind.  Gordon met a guy in a bar who set up the trip.  We literally transferred $900 to a stranger and hoped for the best.  He sent us an eight day itinerary that said something about Kavac, Orinoco, Cuidad Bolivar and airplanes, but as we discovered at the beginning of the trip, none of us actually took the time to read the itinerary.  All we knew was that we were going to Angel Falls...and some other places.  So we packed some bags and took off on Saturday afternoon for an unknown adventure.

As the state department can tell you, the most adventurous place in the world is the Caracas airport. One does need a bit of savvy to navigate it.  Unfortunately for us, the only one of the four of us who can speak any sort of decent Spanish is Gordon, but by the time we arrived at the airport, he was already drunk. Our driver told us that our flight had been cancelled, but not to worry because we were flying into another city and then would be bused to the correct airport.  Somehow this ominous proclamation didn't bother us, particularly Gordon who just wanted to get through security so he could find a bar and continue drinking.  And we did just that- found a bar. After Gordon put his ticket on his finished plate and I went and rescued it from the befuddled waitress, we made our way to the gate listed on our ticket, only to find that the gate was in no other way labelled, and that our flight continued to be cancelled with no further information.  Fast-forward two hours later, after much confusion, yelling in Spanish, and Gordon's impeccable ability to speak near perfect Spanish while drunk, we made it on a plane.  We weren't really sure where it was going.  But we figured hey, let's just see where we end up, because it's better than the Caracas airport.

We landed in a place called Puerto Ordaz, a city that was, as we were told, an hour from Ciudad Bolivar, where we were supposed to be.  And indeed there a bus was waiting, which we promptly plopped onto and fell asleep, as it was rounding 11pm by the time we got on.  Lo and behold, an hour later we were at the Cuidad Bolivar airport, and even more to our surprise, there was someone waiting to take us to our hotel!  We checked in, had a few beers at the bar, passed out, got no more than four hours of sleep and were up again to head back to the airport for our flight to the Village of Canaima, the launching point to head to Angel Falls.

I needed coffee.  The restaurant in the hotel was not awake yet, and after getting the airport, I realized it was so small, there wasn't even a kiosk selling coffee.  This made me very sad.  In this state, I went through security, where they confiscated the three bottles of rum that Gordon and I brought.  Something about Canaima being a "state park". I was a shell of myself.  No coffee? No rum?  Then, the asshole took my bug spray.  NO AEROSOLS ON THE PLANE MY ASS!!!!  I didn't no how to say that in Spanish, so I fumed to myself, until I saw our plane.  Then, I silently thanked the asshole for having our safety in mind.  They were putting us on an old six seater plane!  

I was fairly terrified. I had never been on a plane that small and after all, this is Venezuela and I was none-to-confident in the safety checks done for these sorts of planes.  But off we went and after the initial fear, I relaxed and realized how cool it was that heck, the four of us had our own gosh darn plane!  Over the city we went and into what was clearly the park, as there was literally nothing to see but forests and plains.  This went on for about an hour.  Then, out of nowhere, the first Tepuy.  It was far away, but clearly taller than the altitude of the plane.  It was amazing- this huge, tree covered plateau just sitting there triumphantly, standing tall throughout time immemorial.  Before I had time to consider its grandeur, we were passing a mass of waterfalls to my left and then just landing in the midst of all of it.  Just as I started to convince myself that we had flown to Narnia instead of the innards of Venezuela, we were hustled off our plane and into a little sitting area where, by the grace of God, they had coffee.  I got a coffee and a pepsi, for good measure.  Then we were hustled again onto a bus.  After a five minute ride into the village, we reached a lodging area were we packed a smaller camping bag and locked all of our belongings in a closet. Had I had time to reflect and take inventory of my life it would have looked something like this: "I'm in the Venezuelan bush, all of my money and my passport are in a bag locked in a closet that I have no idea who has the key to, I have no idea where I am, I think I am going to see a waterfall, I have no idea how long I will be there or what this journey will entail, my camera battery is dying, I hope I packed my headlamp and now I really have to pee because I just drank a lot of liquid." Since I had no time to reflect, I simply got back on another bus.

Five minutes later, we found ourselves at a dock with long wooden canoes with motors attached to the back.  I had the wherewithal to realize at that point that the man who had met our plane was going to be our bold and fearless guide for the journey to Salto Angel.  His name is Churun, he is a native Pemon and he had been leading groups for over eight years.  I felt in good hands.  I learned later that the Pemon are the native tribe that lives around the Auyan Tepuy, the largest Tepuy in that part of the park, and the one we got to see for most of our journey.  I also learned later that he was a terrific salsa dancer, but that story comes later.  For now, we are in a boat, with our bags covered in a tarp, my iphone in a ziplock bag and 8 other people joining us.  There was a strange couple from Germany who literally spent every available moment smoking, a thirty-something couple with an nine year old daughter, who ironically enough are teachers at another international school in Caracas, and a group of three Aussies who ended up being absolutely delightful.  The woman of that group was also named Tracey with an E, so I liked her from the start.  So together, our band of misfits grew to 12, plus Churun and a boat captain, and off we were down the river.  About six minutes in, I had the unfortunate idea to ask how long our trip would be, assuming it would be somewhere around the thirty minute mark.  Three hours. Yes, gentle readers, three hours in a wooden boat with ten strangers. It made the six seater look like Rolls Royce.  Really, at that point, we were so excited about the journey and the absolutely gorgeous surroundings we didn't really care.  Every direction you looked was absolutely marvelous.  Palm trees and mountains dotted the landscape, the foliage around the river banks was lovely and the river itself was the color of coca-cola, dyed reddish brown by the tannins of the trees.  It was just such a neat way to travel, we didn't really notice the numb butts or water spray....at least until the second hour.  Around the second hour, Jackie and I got silly and sang, while meanwhile every time we saw a waterfall someone would ask if we were there yet.  Waterfalls were EVERYWHERE.  We were surrounded by Tepuy and around every turn was another waterfall.  The view was just absolutely majestic.  See the pic! 

I think I will have to stop here, as it is time for me to go to bed, but don't worry, there are still seven days to go!

Pick Your Poison: A Mountain or a Room Full of Nine-Year-Olds

This week, I have faced two nearly insurmountable challenges: teaching 4th grade and hiking over 10km of El Avila.  I'll start with the harder of the two: teaching 4th grade.  

Now, for those of you who have paid attention to my professional life at all, you will realize that younger children are not really my jam.  I have a gift for teenagers, and well, when you have a gift for teenagers, you work with teenagers, because Lord knows no one else wants to.  And truly, that is the majority of my job- navigating the dark underworld of adolescence.  However, I have been given the unique opportunity to co-teach the 3rd, 4th and 5th grade counseling classes at our primary school.  It's really a win-win, because my job is to help the elementary counselor with her English, and she in turn helps me with everything else, like how to deal with it when out of nowhere in the middle of a lesson one kid is suddenly screaming on the floor while two others pull his hands and feet in opposite directions.  Fourth grade contains a particularly challenging set of 18 little personalities, and I find myself utterly exhausted after every 45 minute lesson with them. It is remarkably hard to teach values and higher order concepts like respect and tolerance to a group of ninde year olds whom more than half of don't speak English as a first language. What's more, we've got kids from all over the globe, from every continent but Antarctica, just in the fourth grade! Talk about challenging.  And don't get me wrong, I absolutely love it- the challenge of coming up with pertinent lessons and the reward when you can tell they really grasp it is worth it, but boy, this venture into elementary has kept me on my toes.

So now, the Avila.  Ivan is very lucky that he did not show me the map of our hike until I was actually already on the trail.  First, he showed me the inch between the start and the first stopping point, then the inch between the first and second stop.  The second stop was where our first hike terminated.  Then, he showed me the 6.5 feet between the 2nd stop and the 43 subsequent stops we would have to make between there and the teleferico which would finally, at the end of our quest, mercifully take us down the mountain for a mere 36 B's.  The only reason I agreed to go is because I had a whole chocolate bar in the backpack and Ivan said I could eat a little at each stop and he wouldn't make me share it.  

It was brutal.  My cavs were killing me.  My knee braces were rubbing. My back hurt.  I had convinced myself that I couldn't make it.  No way could I make it over 10km of 3rd world mountainous treachery!  This trail was more rock climbing than hiking!  And all I had to work with were two bad knees, and old pair of tractionless running shoes and a chocolate bar!  By the third stop Ivan could tell I was freaking myself out.  He gave me a sincere pep talk, and helped me to mentally focus on my steps and my posture.  He even showed me some good stretches to get my cavs back into working order.  Sometime in about the 2nd hour, the endorphins began to kick in and I mentally shifted to a more positive place.  It probably also helped that a nice guy hiking in front of us was playing Katie Perry on blast. That in fact may have had more to do with it than the mental focus.  Most likely.

Anyways, we got to the peak and the view was absolutely phenom.  You really must check out the pictures on facebook.  I have never seen a view like that, probably because I had never been that high in the air while not in an airplane. I had such a sense of satisfaction, having struggled so much to reach the top.  It was a really remarkable feeling.  Almost as good as the feeling of drinking smuggled beers on the ride down in the teleferico!  Holly, Ivan and I capped off our terrific day with fresh ceviche and some Solara Verde's- I couldn't think of a better way to spend a Sunday!

As this week draws to an end, I am looking so forward to our trip to Angel Falls.  Gordon, Walli, Jackie and I are in for an adventure I think!  I can't wait to write all about it when I get back. Pray for safe travels for us all, and no malaria!  :)

A short post complaining about politics

Politics has been the name of the game today. Yesterday, Maduro expelled three US diplomats for "bribing companies to cause shortages" as well as sabotaging the electric grid, by which I assume he means that the US is ostensibly responsible for last month's major blackout.  Meanwhile, the US government shut down today because congress can't agree on health insurance.  F-ing health insurance.  People in this country are happy when their hospitals have gauze and plastic gloves and bandaids.  Also meanwhile, the inflation on the Bolivar is soaring, with the black market exchange being more than seven times higher than the official, meaning that the haves and have nots are getting more and more disparate.  It is dark economics times, my friends. I can see why we have beer shortages in this country so regularly. There is a lot to forget about.  I wonder sometimes if anyone is immune to the corruption that comes with money and power, and if there is anyone who truly can set aside personal interests for the greater good. Obviously, my current country and my home country could not be more different, but I think I'll find there is more overlap than there appears at first glance. I look forward to learning more...which hopefully won't entail watching the utter economic collapse of either of my countries.....