I’m so exited about my latest, most ambitious quilting project yet that I just can’t keep it to myself anymore. After visiting the Amazon in Ecuador last November I just had to make a jungle quilt. I rushed to Goodwill upon my return and picked up a bag of ill-fitting dresses and shirts that I hoped would do justice to the marvelous animals I saw.
Back in the jungle, I had been a bit concerned on our ride to the lodge, when our boat was battered by the most violent rainfall I have ever seen. The gigantic heavy clouds in the distance seemed ominous, but never could I have predicted their power. I hid under a heavy-duty cape that was provided and fretted that, if the rain continued like this, I wouldn’t get to see any animals.
Noisy Night Monkeys
As is often the case, I worried for no good reason. The rain soon stopped—and later started and stopped again. Once we had reached our destination, we went on long walks through the jungle. The humidity made it feel as if we’re walking through hot syrup. Hot syrup saturated with stringy, sticky stuff… spider webs. Everywhere. In your hair, your mouth, your eyes…
Frogs are also abundant, but so well camouflaged that they are virtually invisible. Our guide picked up one frog the size of my small fingernail. I would have never seen it were it not for our guide’s sharp eyes.
The Most Beautiful Monkey AKA Napo Saki Monkey
Also: We saw. So. Many. Monkeys. We had Red Howler Monkeys throw poop at us, watched spider monkeys play with their young, and were roused by Noisy Night Monkeys (they are called Noisy Night Monkeys for good reason). During one of our hikes our guide suddenly exclaimed: “OVER THERE!” He pointed at the dense canopy. While he was incredibly adept at spotting and identifying all kinds of animals, the sight of a family of Napo Saki monkeys (named after the Amazon tributary whose shores they call home), had left him speechless. “What kind of monkey is it?” I asked, my heart jumping in my chest. “It’s, it’s…,” the guide stuttered in awe, “it’s the most beautiful monkey!” I peered at the group of big, red fellows through binoculars. He wasn’t exaggerating.
A jaguar. Duh!
We didn’t see jaguars, sadly. (Or thankfully, maybe.) Habitat loss due to the expansion of oil refineries and poaching have left the jungle jaguar in peril. But we were told that Columbian drug cartels avoid certain areas nearby because of their presence. At some point I thought I heard a jaguar roar but it turned out it was just another monkey: the Howler Monkey’s bloodcurdling roar made the conquistadores believe that the forest was haunted. I think the jungle is haunted, actually. But in a good way.