An Eerie Encounter

Ecuador, May 1980 I was up to my knees in the water of the Rio Napo, washing my jeans. We arrived in Misahualli by bus in the early afternoon. The following morning, we were to continue by boat, deep into the jungle of Ecuador.

My jeans were quite dirty from the journey, and I had the urgent need to enter the jungle with clean trousers the next day. In the hostel where I was staying, however, there was no water during the day. You could only expect water in the evening, perhaps, the owners said. But I couldn't wait because it is well known that jeans dry slowly, and with the high humidity, one night would not be enough to dry them and get into a halfway-dry pair of jeans in the morning.

So I did what I had seen on my trip through South America many times. I went to the river to wash my trousers and felt cool about it. After all, I wasn't one of those travellers who started whining helplessly at the slightest problem. I was learning from the locals! So I stood in the Rio Napo, rubbed and rinsed my trousers in the fresh river water and felt good about it.

The Rio Napo in the jungle of Ecuador

However, this good feeling came to an abrupt end when two passing gringos (western foreigners) asked themselves at the sight of me whether there were any piranhas in the river. I didn't wait for the result of their discussion. Immediately I jumped out of the water, which had been splashing peacefully until then. The examination of my legs and toes did not reveal any nibble marks. So nothing had happened yet.

I looked around. Indeed, there were no other women at the river to do laundry except me. Women washing clothes in the river was a scenario that I had observed everywhere during my journey. That's why I stepped into the river, of course. Unsettled, I tried to wash my jeans in the river from the dry river bank. This required some wriggling and was less promising but all the more exhausting for it.

While I was still busy with my washing process, a local indigenous young man emerged from the dense bushes. He was tall and handsome and wore a traditional poncho. As he came closer, I recognised extremely elongated earlobes with a hole at least ten centimetres long in the centre. A small piece of wood or bone stuck in his nostril. The whole appearance was adventurous, fascinating and terrifying at the same time. I couldn't help it; I had to stare blatantly at him.

To make matters worse, he was coming straight at me. What on earth could he want from me? I felt queasy. I was terrified when he came up and stopped in front of me. Was this going to be a robbery or a violent assault on a naïve tourist? A little shaky, I smiled my friendliest smile, greeted him in Spanish with "Hola", and hoped he didn't see the fear in my eyes or hear my heart pounding.

The young man said nothing but pointed demandingly at my Swiss Army knife lying on a stone next to me. Aha, that's what he wanted! I bought this pocket knife, especially for this trip to Latin America. It had served me well. What would I do without it? But if that's all he wanted and he didn't attack me otherwise, that was fine with me. Such a knife could be replaced.

So I gave him my pocket knife and resigned to my fate. Without a word, he took the knife and opened the various functions until he came to the tiny scissors. Then he nodded contentedly and began to cut the worn hem of his trousers with these mini-scissors. He checked with an expert's eye whether he had cut straight and then began to work on the second trouser leg.

When the work was done, he examined his tailoring, touched up here and there, snipped off a few more loose threads and finally, satisfied, folded up the pocket knife before handing it back to me. He raised his hand in a greeting and disappeared between the bushes as silently as he had come. - I was speechless. That was all he had wanted! To borrow my knife to mend the hem of his trousers!

I was so ashamed of my fear, which was based on the worst prejudices. How badly I had thought of him. Little did l know about the people whose country I had been travelling in for a few months!

Later that evening, we met in the street when I returned from dinner to my hostel. He nodded in greeting, and I smiled back. We shared a common experience.

This seemingly eerie encounter remained in my memories. I certainly learnt my lesson. (LL.)