When we talk about climate change, whether in school or at climate conferences, the Amazon rainforest is central to the discussion. In my mind, the Amazon jungle is associated with everything from “the lungs of the Earth” to deforestation, from mystical uncontacted tribes to endless biodiversity that we seek to protect. Somewhat mysterious, unknown, unexplored – my mind didn’t know what to expect to find there, thus stimulating the creative part of my brain with all sorts of ideas.
Having heard, read, and imagined about the Jungle since I was a child, I have dreamed of visiting the Amazon rainforest myself. So during the Christmas and New Year’s break, I decided to embark on this adventure. I reached out to my Wageningen University friends, Daniel and Mauricio, started planning the journey, and began packing my backpack.
Bogotá in December 2024 felt somewhat familiar to Kenya with its tropical climate, hills, landscapes, bustling town with motorcycles, and pleasant weather. Oh, how I missed this climate! Especially when flying from snowy and cold (-15 Celsius) Boston. Bogotá is around 2,600 m above sea level, so a light headache was welcoming me.
To acclimatize, I spent a few days with my friend Daniel and his parents at their farm in the mountains and did some hiking trips in Chingaza National Park, where we hiked above 3,600 m sea level.
To visit the Amazon from Colombia, you first need to go to Leticia. Apparently, there is no boat trip or land connection to reach Leticia from Bogotá; therefore, the only option is to fly. This means that if you were born in Leticia and don’t have the documents and around 150 USD, you cannot ever visit the capital of Colombia.
When planning my visit, I found a young guide on YouTube and started communicating on WhatsApp with my basic Spanish skills (thanks to some Italian knowledge gained during my study semester in Sicily) and with the help of AI to lay out the plan.
Devi lives in a community in Macedonia (not the country of course, it’s a village right on the Amazon River) with around 800 people. The community is 2 hours away by boat from Leticia, where the Amazon River serves as a highway for commuting between communities and villages.
My friend Mauricio and another friend from Wageningen University who was doing an internship in Colombia decided to join me on this adventure, which made this trip much more exciting and memorable. First, it helped to communicate with people in Spanish; second, it allowed us to share the excitement, struggles, and emotional roller coasters that we experienced while visiting the jungle.
As you can see in the photos, Leticia is located between Brazil and Peru. You can just walk to Brazil and no one will ask you a thing, while you can cross the river and be in Peru.
Devi mentioned that we should bring plenty of mosquito spray (hoping to reduce the chance of getting malaria or dengue), gum boots to go through the moist and muddy terrain, and a headlamp to be able to navigate during the night. Now when writing this text, I remember vividly the total darkness in the forest. The canopy is so dense that during the night, when you open your eyes, it’s pitch dark. You cannot see anything, and it almost feels scary.
By the way, if you would like to connect with Devi, please send me a message (info@cycletofarms.com) and I will connect you with him, as he is a trusted guide, welcoming, kind, and will go the extra mile.
To make this trip possible, Devi included his family members and friends to help us out. We had some great foods, from ceviche pirarucu, to tasting tiny bit of cayman.
We walked up to our jungle guide and a hunter who lives of hunting animals in the forest. A month ago in the place we are going to he shot a jaguar. It’s unfortunate, perhaps unnecessary, but whom am I to judge. Nonetheless, seeing it and mixing it in with all the other fears and uncertainties of this trip, it really increased the adrenaline level of this adventure. Normally, the tourists when they come here they visit the community for a few hours, at best stay in the community for some days, but rarely they go into the forest to spend the nights. But hey, I wanted to experience and see what’s the Amazon is really like.
We hiked for around 4 hours into the forest. The first couple of hours took us through somewhat “cultivated” areas, where we saw some clearing for houses and limited agriculture. The environment was noticeably moist and warm, resembling a Turkish sauna. As we ventured deeper, more interesting plants, flowers, and trees began to appear.
When we stopped to establish a campsite for the night, we were immediately surrounded by swarms of mosquitoes. I’ve experienced intense mosquito activity during my trip to Siberia, but here in the Amazon, it felt much more relentless. Our guides quickly constructed hammocks with protective nets and rain covers for us to settle in. Our initial excitement quickly gave way to discomfort as we found ourselves tired, wet, and constantly bitten by mosquitoes. Various fears crept into our minds, leading us to question our life priorities and why we had chosen to be there. It’s remarkable how a few hours in the wilderness can stress our bodies when we’re so accustomed to comfort.
We attempted some fishing and cooked meals from the food we had brought with us. Devi had initially asked if we wanted to survive solely off what we could hunt and gather from the forest. Not wanting to hunt anything or take on additional risks, we had opted to bring supplies from shops. One member of our group attempted to stay awake throughout the night to keep watch for potential dangers.
While the photos may seem peaceful, the rainforest itself is incredibly active and extraordinarily loud. The intensity of the environment kept us in a state of mild stress and high alertness. We went on a night hike, but overall, we were simply exhausted. The night sounded like a techno rave party with endless overlapping noises, each one more intense than the last.
This experience naturally prompted reflection on various aspects of life—from reassessing priorities to gaining a deeper understanding of the Amazon jungle’s importance and seeing the realities of community life there. I now understand why the Amazon isn’t more extensively explored; the environment is genuinely challenging. It also reminded me that despite living in comfortable, sterile settings, we still find reasons to complain.
I returned from this trip with a collection of extremely itchy mosquito bites, a minor stomach infection that required 5 days of antibiotics, and lifetime memories about the realities of even this tiny part of the Amazon jungle. I’m already dreaming of returning to explore the Amazon for a much longer period, as there is so much more to discover.
I could somewhat compare this trip to running a marathon. After my first marathon, I lost four toenails because of too-tight volleyball shoes. Immediately after finishing, I said, “Never again, not worth it” — yet look at me running again now. This trip had a similar feeling. It was tough, intense, deeply reflective. After returning to “civilization,” I thought, “That’s enough, I’ve had enough. Let’s just enjoy comfort and never go back.” But as I write this post, I’m already contemplating where I’d like to go again, what I’d like to research and explore, and what I might do if I could spend a much longer time there.
We were fortunate to connect with Devi, as he showed us the authentic reality of Macedonia. We observed other tourists arriving in fancy boats, visiting the community hall where locals would dress in traditional attire, perform dances, tell stories, entertain the visitors, and sell handmade souvenirs. After these performances ended, everyone would return to their regular daily lives—the grocery shop owner’s children went back to playing video games, some young people made TikTok videos, while others bought sweets at the local bakery.
