Like we mentioned, we’ve got a small passel of new sponsors coming on board, so we hope you’ll excuse the small passel of welcome sponsor posts.
For this one, we turn our attention to HistoricHomesInSeattle, realtors focusing on vintage and historic homes.
We’re not going to talk about that at all, though. Instead, we’re going to share a bit of the story we found on the “About” page on their site, which we find more interesting than complimenting realtors on their realtor skillz:
Since our historic home specialist Vince Decker was a young boy he had dreams of seeing the real Amazon jungle. The massive trees, snakes and wide rivers all seemed so exotic. A few years ago he decided to stop dreaming and make it happen, studying a tribe of people in the Ecuadorian Amazon called the Waorani, First contact with them happened about 50 years ago and their ways appeared to be quite traditional still. He read about them, learned where they were, imagined how to get there and brushed up on his mediocre Spanish language skills. The Continental flight from Seattle passed through Houston and on to Quito, Ecuador, a beautiful city of two million ringed by volcanoes in the Andes Mountains. After a few days of getting provisions, tracking down a jungle hammock and orienting myself, adventure was calling. Vince left the main station in Quito on an old bus that took him 12 hours up over the high Andes, down past massive waterfalls and eventually into the Amazon Basin. The ride was fantastic, lots of laughter, natives getting on with chickens for market and everyone wondering where on earth he was going. After a very long day with many new smells and sights, the bus bumped into the small town of Coca on the Napo River. The Napo and Maranon River from Peru join to form the Amazon. Amazing, he made it! He then found a small room, ate some dried fruit and salmon jerky from the Trader Joe’s and slipped into a deep sleep.
Vince awoke the next day filled with excitement and sat by the banks of the wide river feeling that plans would soon begin to fall in place. Amazingly, within an hour he met Mario (a younger Waorani tribesman who in town from the deep jungle to do some trading). After some discussion and negotiation, Mario agreed to take Vince with him to spend a week in his village, eating and live as he did.
They hopped in the back of an old pickup truck, sat on some spare tires and settled in for a long ride. Crossing the Napo River and heading down a small road into the jungle, they talked of people, politics, soccer and life. Two hours later they pulled up to an old bridge where Mario’s wife Anna and little girl Flora were waiting with a dugout canoe. They baled water for about 30 minutes, loaded their supplies and pushed off. For the next four hours they floated down the Shiripuno River, with only the sounds of the jungle around them. Parrots screeched overhead, a massive anaconda on the bank, the vegetation became much denser and humidity was thick in the air. After much paddling and many bends in the river, they got to the village where Vince would spend the next week. Rarely had any travelers come to this place, 20 or 30 children stood wide-eyed and cackled as Vince struggled up the muddy hill from the river.
The village had about 20 beautiful thatched huts, probably 100 people. Vince was taken to see the chief soon after he arrived. He thanked him graciously, asked permission to stay, and shared some gifts of food, drawing paper and colored pencils for the children of the tribe, walking with Mario back to his hut, hung a hammock inside the structure, and took a look around. The hut was well crafted of hardwood pole rafters, bamboo floors and palm fronds. A cooking fire inside provided heat and food. The food in this place consisted of hunted meat from the jungle, piranha and other fish, mangoes and some cultivated foods like corn and yams. The villagers bathed in the river everyday at 6PM, spent their time building and weaving, used a red pigment from a plant to paint their faces before hunting parties left and lived peacefully and communally as they had for thousands of years. The younger members spoke Spanish; it had been decided that it was important that they learn in order to trade and communicate. Elders spoke the native dialect. So this was Vince’s home for the next week. He tromped through the jungle, swung on vines with the village kids, bathed in clear pools, ate VERY interesting food, worked clearing land and building a school, made good friends and learned a great deal about their culture. Each night he was lulled to sleep in his hammock by the amazing stars and jungle sounds and will remember forever the people he met and the great experiences he had.
Clearly, Vince is your guy if you’re looking for a Tudor-styl mansion, a class foursquare or perhaps a mud hut.