The Expedition was nothing like what we expected. Grueling and challenging, it was the hardest thing I ever did. But as any sportsperson knows, outdoing yourself daily is an unparalleled high.
This book was written during the actual trek, most often beside a campfire in the rain. (When I walked out of the jungle, the completed manuscript was in my pack.) Because we never knew what would happen next out there, of course the reader won’t know either. Nor am I going to tell YOU how it all turned out. Just think rain, mud, ridiculous uncertainty, personality clashes, and the real-deal jungle holding it all in.
This book is for those who love nature and immersing oneself in it. The journey took place in 1985 when a native Costa Rican living in New York City decided to lead a strapping band of willing followers deep into the mountainous jungle to find a tribe reputed to live wholly apart from civilization.
By definition, on an Expedition no one knows what to expect. It’s therefore easy to screw up on the planning, or to mis-cast a few of the players… In the end, though, the not knowing was where the emotion and depth came from, and I assure you our little tribe is forever bonded over that rare adventure. If you like wild, one-off stories about unusual people doing unusual things, here’s one for your bedtime reading.
Genre: TRAVEL / GeneralThis book was just released in late June 2016.
The Indians up here, too, were wide-eyed at the amount of food we’d procured in Cepequai. That evening, as some of them gathered beside our rancho, for final treatments from “Dr. Jesse,” or just to watch us, I noticed the clever one-eyed lady casually relieve us of a new bar of soap. As much as I’d have liked her to have it, we had run out, and, boys being boys, they’d purchased only one bar in Cepequai. The woman was hiding it behind her back. No one else had seen her take it. I had to somehow retrieve it.
Digging in my pack, I pulled out a necklace I’d shown her earlier. Since all the women and girls wore assorted beads, I knew she could use this jewelry one way or another. I approached the woman with it, smiling. “I want you to have this,” I said and put it into her empty hand. She admired it and smiled back. Then, in an opposite movement, not unlike Thai Chi, I held out my empty hand toward the hand she was hiding. It seemed natural for her to hand me the soap, and she did. “Thank you,” I said, still smiling, and walked away.
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It was a primitive and romantic feeling to be home when a group came in from a day or two on the trail. And today's trail was one we wouldn’t walk so there were questions and mystery. Seeing them arrive, though, so un-Hollywood, unpretentious, simply strong, gorgeous, and beat…was something you ache for in the city. Orlando came first, with stories all over his face, and wet clothing; and he answered my eyes immediately by saying the others were close behind. I watched the rise for Ernesto as Orlando shared his joy at being home. And it was a kind of family life really, rewarding to return to, because we all spoke jungle now and ate up every word of what they’d come upon out there.
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Italian
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Gloria Melli and Debora Serrentino
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Spanish
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Gaby Lopez Jmz and Debora Burgardt
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