Chapter 2
The city of Manaus was huge. There were over two million people in the city that was the gateway to the for many researchers.
Whatever you couldn’t travel with, you could buy in Manaus.
Then you’d travel by the road that cut through the to the nearest access point to the part of the jungle you were trying to get to.
You’d park, then either go on foot, ATV, or by horse/mule.
For where Forrest was going, he’d need a horse and several mules.
“Mr. Townsend?” a man asked as Forrest walked out of the airport with two giant cases on wheels. “I am Tuka. I am your interpreter and guide.”
Forrest smiled at the shorter man who couldn’t be more than twenty-one. His skin was slightly more bronzed, indicating his indigenous ancestry. “Please call me Forrest. It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for allowing me access to your village. I know what an honor it is.”
“As much as my grandfather wants to keep people from uprooting our life with their technology and their money, he knows we need help.”
“I hope to provide that help.”
“We should get you stocked up on food before we leave.”
Forrest shook his head. He had protein bars already packed, but beyond that he didn’t need anything. “Your people have lived off the land for generations. I can do so for a month.”
Tuka looked as if he didn’t believe Forrest, but why should he?
Forrest was decked out in hiking pants and boots that would do their best to prevent trench foot.
Tuka was in an old T-shirt, worn shorts, and flip-flops that he was sure weren’t the standard at the remote village Forrest was heading to.
It was the closest to city clothes he probably had.
So, thinking someone dressed like Forrest would survive off the land, was probably humorous to Tuka.
“My people are not uncontacted, but we are very far from other tribes. I am the only one who can speak English. Two others can speak Portuguese, but the rest speak our ancestral language.”
Forrest nodded. He’d expected that. “I know a few words, but I’m not fluent in Portuguese. I’ll work hard at learning your language instead of Portuguese if that’s okay. I want to learn so if this works, I can teach you how to build it and you can share that knowledge with other tribes.”
“They would appreciate that. They are skeptical of an outsider’s help. You have to understand that outsiders’ help has come with the taking of land and the attempt to erode our culture,” Tuka told him.
“I understand. I’ll prove my intentions through my actions. We have several days together. Let’s start my language lessons now.”
Tuka and he loaded the cases into the back of a pickup truck from an unknown era and an unknown maker. It appeared to be made entirely of rust but it ran as Tuka drove out of the city and north along the road leading toward his tribe.
Tuka taught him basic words. Hello. Help.
Water. Food. Thank you. My name is. By the time they arrived to park the truck, Forrest had the basics down.
Tuka parked in a dirt parking lot. To one side were three other beat-up trucks.
To the back of the small lot was a barn with horses and mules.
“I brought two mules from my village,” Tuka said, pulling out a ticket.
“I’ll go get them. We’ll spend the night here and then we’ll head out at first light.
There is a small booth that sells food, and over there is an area where we can sleep. ”
Forrest nodded as he pulled out his cases and claimed a section of the small campground. He paid for two meals and met Tuka with the mules. “I pay per day, and I only had enough to trade for one day, so the mules will stay with us tonight.”
Forrest gave them each a pat and handed the plate to Tuka. They dug into the flavorful food and talked about their hometowns. Soon night fell and forced sleep. It was too dark to do anything else.
Four days of walking through the jungle taught Forrest a lot.
There had been nothing to do but to learn from each other.
Tuka told him about his tribe and almost everyone in it.
He told him how at eighteen his grandfather had ordered him to Manaus to learn English and the modern ways.
It was expected that Tuka would take over the tribe since his mother had assumed control of the medical side of the tribe’s life.
This was Tuka’s chance to save his tribe from a changing, modern future.
So, he learned. That’s how he came across Forrest and reached out to the non-profit working with Forrest to learn more about the water system Forrest was developing.
Tuka had hurried back to his tribe and told them about it. There had been distrust, but his grandfather believed in him. They voted and it was decided. Tuka’s first act as second in charge of the tribe was to bring Forrest in and see if he could solve their water issue.
“Some years there is abundant rain. Others, no rain at all. The water from the nearby river has changed. It’s not clean. Sometimes you get sick and the healer, my mother, must help,” Tuka explained as they walked through the jungle.
There was no path to follow. At least there wasn’t until Forrest noted a small carving on a tree trunk. Tuka explained he’d marked the path in case others chose to leave the village.
At night they talked about life, love, and family around the fire they built to keep animals away. When Forrest finally entered the village, he was able to say hello, introduce himself, and thank the tribe for allowing him the honor of meeting them.
The village worked together to help chop a path for Forrest to reach the location he wanted to establish as his base camp. It was a lot closer than he’d figured he’d be based on the map, simply because the jungle was too thick to pass up on an area with a slight clearing.
Forrest and a group of men got a thatched roof shelter set up in a day.
Forrest hung his hammock and looked around his small temporary house.
His machete would always be in reach, but he’d also been gifted a bow and arrow set by his hosts.
He had been approved a special license for a handgun that he’d picked up in Manaus, but that was a last resort weapon and he would only take it if he went out alone in the jungle.
A fire was started in the fire pit he built outside of the house and he hoped to keep it burning for his whole stay to help keep mosquitoes and animals at bay.
Tuka and his family invited him to a celebratory night to welcome him to their village.
Children ran up and poked him, then ran away giggling.
Women were very interested in his blue eyes, which made Tuka laugh as the women huddled around and held Forrest’s eyelids open wide.
Tuka explained that some outsiders had visited the village but they’d all been from Brazil, and none had spoken English.
Most were missionaries or from non-profits.
Some were scientists and some were from the government taking census reports.
“My grandfather, Cau?,” Tuka said as they sat in the community square that the thatched houses all faced, “wanted me to tell you about what has happened to our once large and thriving tribe.”
Forrest looked to the elder of the tribe and nodded to show his respect and gratitude for learning their story.
“We were once thousands strong. Now we are two hundred. We had more land than you could walk in a week, but then they came. First for logging, then for farming, and finally for mining. More and more of the land was taken. We tried to fight it,” Tuka said, translating for his grandfather, “but the more we fought, the more they killed. It will not stop us. We will never stop fighting.”
Cau? reached out and clasped Tuka’s shoulder.
“That is why I sent my grandson to learn the ways of these people. Learn how to save what little we have left,” Tuka translated.
“But now we face a problem we cannot solve on our own. The land is angry at the damage done to it. The rain no longer comes with regularity. Rivers and streams, they run low. The trees weep for water. Lightning crashes, fires start, and even more land is taken from us. Outsiders want to exploit the land. We want to preserve our culture and way of life. We can hunt. We can grow food. But clean water is something that we cannot hunt or grow.”
“I hope that my invention will work then. I won’t just build it and leave.
I will show you how to build it, how to fix it, and how to tell others who are similarly suffering.
” Forrest talked directly to Cau? as Tuka translated.
The old man nodded his head and then offered a cup carved from wood to Forrest.
“He’s offering you his water. It’s a sign of respect,” Tuka whispered.
Forrest took it, sipped it, and then handed it back as he bowed his head. That night, the impact of what Forrest was hoping to do went from ideological to personal. It was up to him to help save these people and he’d do everything he could to do just that.
The ropes binding Jordana to the mule were cut without warning.
Her whole body was numb. She slid from the mule and crashed onto the ground.
She heard male laughter all around her as she groaned.
She hadn’t been given food or water in days.
Her head swam as she tried to hold it up.
Instead, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths.
She could go one more day without water until things began to shut down.
That meant she had to focus now. She had to find a way out. Survive. She had to survive.
Jordana was lifted up by her armpits by two men. She finally got a look at where she was. The Forest was gone. Two hundred yards away was a straight line where the forest now began but behind her, it was simply gone.