01-15-2020, 12:54 PM
[NOTE: As I mentioned prior to the previous part, after coming back from Transect C we actually ate dinner first (just covered), then donned headlamps to go for the night walk to the Catch-Basin, which I previously covered. Just so you know. This incorrect ordering doesn't really affect the gist or causality of events.]
1/1–2/2019: Part 5 -- Night Angst
I lie awake late into the night, something I've been doing a lot of lately. It takes ever longer for my body to recover enough from the day's exertions for me to sleep. As I lay there, I think about what JJ was telling us, just how remote this place is (to be reinforced a couple days later when Mohsin shows us our location on a big map, points out maybe three settlements upriver from us and on nearby rivers. "These are the last outposts," he says, pointing them out not far from us. "Nobody goes beyond them." He then gestures at the vast area of jungle beyond, which is where the uncontacted tribes live).
How fortunate to have this opportunity and at my age. It's been a wonderful experience -- so far. But things could go south in an instant. That spell of blindness in the left eye has given me pause. If it had become a real problem, how would that have impacted the organization, our group, LCF? And why hadn't I told anyone?
LCF, under mosquito netting in the other bunk, turns on her headlamp and fusses around. After five minutes she turns it off and lies down. The next day when I ask her what she was doing, she'll tell me she found a tick crawling on her. A tick? Why didn't she tell me at the time? Why are we hiding our little problems? No one is thinking very straight these days. It's the fatigue sinking in.
I'm wondering if I need to skip the Brazil Nut Trail tomorrow. I want to go, but I don't want to slow the group down. My body is showing signs of breaking down. And the Brazil Nut Trail will be our longest and most difficult outing.
That brief spell of blindness isn't the only problem I'm having. Even before bedtime I make several trips to the bathroom. When LCF asks if I'm okay, I tell her yes. It isn't diarrhea, just frequent urination. My body is clearly getting out of whack.
It's a rough night of little sleep. Seven or eight times I get up in pitch darkness and slip outside and down the walkway (headlamp set to red so it won't wake me more than necessary), being careful of the sections without railing, and into the toilet, never knowing what creepy-crawlies will greet me each time. Afterwards I make sure to drink water, but not too much, not wanting to overwork my system. It's a delicate balancing act.
Miraculously, come morning, I seem to be okay.
1/1–2/2019: Part 5 -- Night Angst
I lie awake late into the night, something I've been doing a lot of lately. It takes ever longer for my body to recover enough from the day's exertions for me to sleep. As I lay there, I think about what JJ was telling us, just how remote this place is (to be reinforced a couple days later when Mohsin shows us our location on a big map, points out maybe three settlements upriver from us and on nearby rivers. "These are the last outposts," he says, pointing them out not far from us. "Nobody goes beyond them." He then gestures at the vast area of jungle beyond, which is where the uncontacted tribes live).
How fortunate to have this opportunity and at my age. It's been a wonderful experience -- so far. But things could go south in an instant. That spell of blindness in the left eye has given me pause. If it had become a real problem, how would that have impacted the organization, our group, LCF? And why hadn't I told anyone?
LCF, under mosquito netting in the other bunk, turns on her headlamp and fusses around. After five minutes she turns it off and lies down. The next day when I ask her what she was doing, she'll tell me she found a tick crawling on her. A tick? Why didn't she tell me at the time? Why are we hiding our little problems? No one is thinking very straight these days. It's the fatigue sinking in.
I'm wondering if I need to skip the Brazil Nut Trail tomorrow. I want to go, but I don't want to slow the group down. My body is showing signs of breaking down. And the Brazil Nut Trail will be our longest and most difficult outing.
That brief spell of blindness isn't the only problem I'm having. Even before bedtime I make several trips to the bathroom. When LCF asks if I'm okay, I tell her yes. It isn't diarrhea, just frequent urination. My body is clearly getting out of whack.
It's a rough night of little sleep. Seven or eight times I get up in pitch darkness and slip outside and down the walkway (headlamp set to red so it won't wake me more than necessary), being careful of the sections without railing, and into the toilet, never knowing what creepy-crawlies will greet me each time. Afterwards I make sure to drink water, but not too much, not wanting to overwork my system. It's a delicate balancing act.
Miraculously, come morning, I seem to be okay.