Mud, mosquitoes and memories: Days and nights in the Amazon forest

Macaws gather on a forest bank, among the many creatures that make the Amazon their home. Photo: Collected

Today is my last day in the Amazon rainforest. I am sitting here, looking out at the forest and writing down a memory I hope to revisit when I am old. Perhaps you will read it too, if you have wondered what a few days here might be like.

Since childhood, I have known the Amazon through books, films and photographs. But I had barely thought about the people living here. What were their lives like?

Over four days in the Peruvian Amazon, I began to get a glimpse. Stories often dwell on frightening insects, snakes and fish. Less attention goes to the villages where Indigenous communities have lived for generations.

After almost four hours by boat from Iquitos, I reached deeper into the rainforest. The city was far behind me. River and forest stretched all around us, interrupted by small villages.

Some urban conveniences had reached these settlements. Even so, I could hardly imagine living here year after year.

I spent four days with the Bora people in a modest wooden lodge. The rooms were built with forest timber and roofed with leaves. There was no electricity, the bed offered little comfort and, even in that unbearable heat, not a single fan.

My entire Amazon trip cost around Tk10 lakh per person. Before travelling, I had booked a local Indigenous guide online. Staying with him and the community showed me something beyond the familiar rainforest images.

The snakes the writer saw were nothing like the scary ones he had seen in films. Photo: Courtesy

Bathing water came straight from the river. It was reddish-black and smelled strongly of fish. I sweated all day. My clothes never seemed to dry. At night, insects and the thought of snakes made sleep difficult.

For all four days, we ate river fish, rice, salad and rainforest fruit. The meals barely changed.

What is the strongest creature in the world? Some might say a lion. Others might choose a tiger, or even a human.

No, brother. Had I never come here, I would never have understood how much power a tiny mosquito could have over me.

They could drive me to tears. My skin was red and covered in swollen bites. I had naively assumed repellent would keep them away. The mosquitoes had other plans.

It felt as though they had not tasted human blood in a hundred years. They found me and started drilling. Later, the bites swelled into red little tomatoes.

There were no roads or bridges linking the settlements I visited. The forest was dense, wet and muddy. Walking was hard work.

Here, the river was the road.

People travelled by wooden boats to fish, visit villages, reach the city and take forest products to market.

The river was also a world of caimans, snakes, frogs, dolphins and fish. Fish kept jumping from the water. Some landed in our boat, with teeth fit for a monster film.

A frightening forest, I thought, deserved frightening fish.

Some fish had teeth that looked as though they belonged in a monster film. Photo: Courtesy

So, what did I actually see?

I saw anacondas, nothing like those in films. No enormous snakes chased people or swallowed anyone whole. These seemed interested in being left alone.

Humans fear these snakes, yet humans also catch, trade and kill them. I wondered how they perceive us.

Tarantulas looked terrifying until one rested on my hand. It felt like a ball of cotton moving across my palm. It did not bite. Perhaps it was as wary of me as I was of it.

Then came young caimans of two different species. We went looking at night, when I could barely see my hand. Somehow, our guide spotted them, caught them barehanded and brought them onto the boat.

I held one myself. Its skin felt like rubber. I thought about how an animal like this could become shoes or a bag.

I also saw a huge, beautiful frog with striking eyes. Growing up in Bangladesh, I had never given frogs much credit for their looks. This one made me reconsider.

Other creatures went about their lives. I was the visitor. For them, the rainforest was home.

I imagined little societies with workers, rulers, kings and queens. It reminded me, perhaps unfairly, of our world, where some work while others enjoy the rewards.

The Amazon and Maasai Mara make me feel the earth was never meant for humans alone. There is room here for all of Allah's creations, for insects, birds, animals and fish.

Perhaps that was why living here was so difficult. Humans, mosquitoes, snakes and ants all had their own means of survival.

If the forest were easy for people like me to settle in, would we cut down more trees, kill more animals and make another playground for ourselves?

We are already doing much of that.

Before arriving, I had heard about the Amazon rain. But it rained very little during my first three days there. Coming so far and not getting to witness rain in the rainforest,felt unfulfilling.

On departure day, clouds gathered. I thought to myself, perhaps the rain will arrive just after I left.

Here, the river is the road. People use it to fish, visit neighbouring villages and travel to the city. Photo: Collected

Then, while I was packing, the sky opened up.

The forest seemed to fall quiet. I could no longer hear birds, insects or monkeys. All I could hear was rain.

I stopped packing and watched.

As I travelled back towards the city by boat, I felt that I was returning from another world. For all the money I had spent and the preparations I had made, I had struggled with the simplest things. Sleeping. Keeping dry. Escaping a mosquito.

The people I stayed with knew how to live here. I had only begun to understand how little I knew. Looking back, I felt small before the creator and what he had made.