Boat Seats Hinges
Boca da Valeria: Pocket primitive Amazon, the Amazon forest, Princess Royal
After the extension of the Princess Royal hydraulically operated the boarding ramp of the contest on Deck 3, several small wooden canoes barely large enough to support families and children of the village and so immersed in the Amazon muddy the water level was parallel to their sides and had to be constantly dug back, paddled up the lining of the giant eyes, shy, and "civilization" playing a lifestyle unknown to them, and therefore something like an alien visiting Earth. Although the ship's passengers had eagerly awaited a taste of the lifestyle location, this first meeting had indicated that they consider the experience every bit the opposite, and if not for benign curiosity, they themselves could have been interpreted as "invaders."
Located at the confluence of the rivers Amazon and Rio de Valeria, Boca da Valeria, translating as "mouth of the river Valeria" is representative of thousands of tiny, isolated communities in the Amazon where basic, almost primitive "riberinhos OS" or "riparian" live on the river and the rainforest in a dozen wooden houses so supported by stakes, its 75 residents who attend the same school and church and sharing a communal farm cassava production and field. One can, by any measure, be considered the "real Brazil".
Covering short distance from the Princess Royal the coast in the middle of comprehensive water pink dolphins, my sweet penetrated thick, swampy, molasses with its underside double pontoon, around two river boats before approaching The wooden stilts, and supporting grass huts marking the Boca da Valeria "pocket of humanity," which could also have been considered a pocket of (prisoners) time. "To the river dwellers, this was" home. "It was everything I had known. We had brought our preconceived" ideas " house, which was all we had known. None had been the same, or even remotely close. Maybe I would find some elements in common between the two during my visit.
As I landed the small, wooden, floating dock itself little more than a floating Boat, I heard the words: "Welcome to jungle! ", the last and only in English, to deposit the dirt path that led the crowd of locals and native children, and quickly realized that had shared the same desire to know and experience the different lifestyles of others. I was in the process served as a bridge between my world and theirs.
The dirt road led past a row of huts with thatched roof, which could be considered a village market and have expressed their site, handmade crafts, an activity Economic primarily geared for tourists in the communal village. The entrepreneurial process of buying, selling and profit was totally new to them.
The stucco "School Municipal San Francisco "or" Municipal School of San Francisco "with yellow and blue windows and exterior wooden closed devoid of any glass, had a spartan interior of chairs and tables, a globe and a blackboard above which had been hung a banner with examples including four mathematical functions, such as "addition" or "beyond" and "multiplication", or "Multiplication", among others. The school had a single room clearly served the community as the core classes, or heart, and to channel the knowledge and pride of learning and high were shared equally between here and demonstrates the homework and the drawings hanging on the back wall, the human emotions by measuring the distance from my hometown in the United States in this small village in the Amazon.
Followed and surrounded by a crowd of children, who inspected the classroom and feverishly took notes, I felt their interest and curiosity, but not mine interest or activity, but realized the gifts I had brought for them and carried in the bag hanging from my hand. We all like tourists, potentially unknown items held for them from the modern world in this primitive jungle puncture intensified their curiosity, but had simply been curious and wondered if I had brought nothing to them was any different than when I, as a small child, gave a peek into a bag of visiting a relative had done and hopefully asked, "Is there anything there to me?
"Street" The village just stood before me, a rocky dirt road, lined with a handful of wooden stilt structures considered "houses" each with a miniature boat as I had found my ship for fishing and short sea, deep in brown water behind them. They were clearly the village idea of "a car in every garage," although these "cars" were the needs of your lifestyle.
A local women invited me to his house. Doors and police stations had been replaced by confidence here, or maybe the order was reversed in my society. greed and materialism may well have substantially increased the comfort of life, but these "primitive" people had kept their virtues, and therefore connections with God, whose realization seems to obviate the need for such luxuries unless and until they had been confronted with temptation. Unfortunately, we, as tourists, who accounted for.
The house, accessed by three in the rough, wooden planks that serve as stages and divided into three quarters, had smelled the shortage: a kitchen with little more than a desk, a room with a single seat, and one quarter only identifiable as such by their network wall-hung, but a piece of modern civilization, looking distinctly out of place, assaulted my eyes and ears and spoiled what had become my mental picture of life here: a large, although very old-fashioned television, in black and white because the world I had come, which could have served as a welcome sight instead. who had only served to spoil it. I had traveled here to learn and experience what had been
again, "not to see what I already knew, and I was quickly waved my eyes.
The house across the "street" boasted a net suspended between two poles down which obviously had been its main floor and one of them had been tied a pig, which could have been the pet of family or dinner, while steam rose from a dilapidated stove resting on the outside balcony behind him.
A perpendicular, leaning way into the area the communal village produce and cultivate cassava, the two main sources of livelihood than the river itself. The road then disappeared into the rainforest.
The Amazon Kills himself, the world's largest rainforest surrounded by tropical Guiana Highlands in the north, the central Brazilian plateau in the south, the Atlantic Ocean to the east and the Andes in the west had been "backyard" of the village and occupies the drainage basin of the Amazon River and its tributaries, covering four million square meters kilometers in nine countries: .. Brazil, French Guiana, Suriname, Guyana, Venezuela, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia and Colombia, blankets 40 percent of Brazil alone its existence is the result of high stable temperature, humidity and precipitation.
The tropical forest, which covers over two thirds of the Amazon basin, is an extension of the forest dry savannah in the north and south and montane forest in the west of the Andes. Its dense vegetation, forming multilevel closed canopies that prevent all but ten percent the sun's rays from reaching the ground and extend up to 150 feet, supporting more plant life between these levels that the land itself. His extensive flora, with an average more than 250 tree species per hectare typical, includes rosewood, mahogany, rubber and Brazil nuts.
Several million species insects, birds and other life forms, some still unrecorded by science, including alligators, anacondas, boa constrictors, manatees, freshwater dolphins, piranhas, electric eels, catfish, turtle, and the world's largest freshwater sideneck 150 pounds of the yellow head, whose only other mammal habitat Madagascar. land include the jaguar, tapir to the sloth, deer and monkeys.
Of the 16 million people who inhabit the basin, more than half live in settlements rural as well as the Boca da Valeria, lining the river that provides its lifeline for food, water, soil for planting, and transportation.
Reaching the end of the main thoroughfare of the village, which had been covered with a bit of grass and showed a considerable structure on stilts, I realized that my temporary time warp and culture had been suddenly destroyed, as if driving a nice car suddenly slammed into a brick wall, where deforestation had revealed that coffee color shown of water known as the "Amazon" support the skyscrapers, balcony, lined metropolis called Royal Princess. The fragment had belonged for more my emotions than anything else, my early feelings of loneliness, innocence, simplicity and lack of materiality to which to attach my soul split with the ease of glass. This floating metropolis in a few hours, take me away, away from simple geographic and emotional, the last of which somehow stimulated, spirituality and return me to the physical comfort and plenty, where all my desires, needs and desires are immediately fulfilled. I looked at down and felt shame and huge disappointment to me.
One resident, having your boat, invited me to his house where I had later met his wife. Large, steep, wooden stairs led to an equally large outdoor balcony. His "inside" had been divided into only two rooms: the kitchen and bedroom.
Communicating in Spanish with his wife, who replied in Portuguese, I had learned that the kitchen is decidedly well provisioned on the homes visited in another village, with a center table covered picnic table, a large variety of hanging pots and pans, aluminum and an old-fashioned, but still working, stove lit match, had been the site of cooking little, with most of it is held outdoors in the heat of the internal structure of wood, despite the fact that all the windows had been paneless.
The bedroom in in size, getting the fresh breeze, cross ventilation at night in the river because of their diametrically opposite window and door (none of which had a glass panel or a panel, covering the real articulated), characterized as a quasi-home bed and a hammock. But the trait that seemed more prominent and somehow out of place in this primitive village where reading does not seem to belong to the list of necessary survival activities such as fishing, planting and eating, had been the bookshelf.
"Wow, look at all these books! "I had said to the resident in Spanish." Why do you have them? "I wanted to know.
"I am a teacher of the village school, he returned in Portuguese, pointing the way home from school, and it somehow seemed fitting that a person of such importance, that had played served as a key model would have one of the largest homes. This man was the leader of the village and link to knowledge.
We spend considerable time reviewing lesson books, each applicable to a different class and printed in Portuguese, and divided into subjects such as reading, math and language. There was even a chapter to Spanish vocabulary.
During the afternoon, return walk on the red earth and rock with touches of tender to the pier, I was a bit surprising to find that the cruise ship, which should have been clearly visible from this vantage point, had disappeared, not because I was subconsciously or psychologically cleared on my mind, in my quest to complete my picture of reality early, but because one characteristic of the Amazon flood-had rendered visible, and everything in it, the non-existence, and the land had been metamorphosed into a series of lakes ranging in size.
Stepping away from the village in the contest, I always thought the high proportion of children to adults, children, whether they belonged to this village or anywhere else in the world, had been hope that the future but that, throughout the experiment, was immediately extended hands seeking gifts and money from me and all the other passengers alike, as if the cruise ship had played a regular, multi-annual visit Santa Claus.
As people, the settlers had shared the same fundamental qualities and characteristics as the rest of us: identity, personality, talent, expected for the contribution to the world, hopes, dreams, and the ultimate realization of leaving footprints in the mud, when they reached the end of their life trajectories. The village had provided gross primitive wooden structures called homes where their families had been forced, food, marketless common to the maintenance of river and soil, a home school to learn, share ideas, grow and advance, a church to worship and to reconnect with their higher powers, and models of parent, teacher and priest to lead, inspire and imitate fully proving that despite the geographic differentiation and lifestyle differences, we had all come from the same source.
However, I continued to focus on the outstretched hands and could not help but wonder if we, as visiting tourists who freely gave and taught them the freedom expect, somehow began to corrupt and spoil their pristine, untouched, pocket, non-materialistic innocent time. But somehow I knew we had …
I myself had given the village schoolteacher a tip more than a week, if not monthly salary in Boca da Valeria is, in fact, there had been no salary, but there are justified as an investment in education.
Somewhere down the line, when the process of conversion to modernism and Materialism was irreversible, I would have to seek a new Boca da Valeria. When traveling there, I would again learn from it and be enriched by it. When traveling there, I would also again be partially responsible for its inevitable change.
As the Princess Royal slowly retreated from its proposal triggered hydraulically boarding ramp to the platform 3, views of the village and "riberinhos the" progressive decrease in size until the heavy iron panel closed decided with a bang!
I hope you never lose what you taught me today, I thought …
About the Author
A graduate of Long Island University-C.W. Post Campus with a summa-cum-laude BA Degree in Comparative Languages and Journalism, I have subsequently earned the Continuing Community Education Teaching Certificate from the Nassau Association for Continuing Community Education (NACCE) at Molloy College, the Travel Career Development Certificate from the Institute of Certified Travel Agents (ICTA) at LIU, and the AAS Degree in Aerospace Technology at the State University of New York – College of Technology at Farmingdale. Having amassed almost three decades in the airline industry, I managed the New York-JFK and Washington-Dulles stations at Austrian Airlines, created the North American Station Training Program, served as an Aviation Advisor to Farmingdale State University of New York, and devised and taught the Airline Management Certificate Program at the Long Island Educational Opportunity Center. A freelance author, I have written some 70 books of the short story, novel, nonfiction, essay, poetry, article, log, curriculum, training manual, and textbook genre in English, German, and Spanish, having principally focused on aviation and travel, and I have been published in book, magazine, newsletter, and electronic Web site form. I am a writer for Cole Palen’s Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome in New York. I have made some 350 lifetime trips by air, sea, rail, and road.
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