Kitabı oku: «Ndura. Son Of The Forest»

DAY 2

HOW I DISCOVERED THE WONDERS OF THE FOREST

“No, don't kill him!” I shouted, convulsively shaking which made me fall off the tree and hit the ground with a thud.

I shook myself from one side to the other, fleeing from my own ghosts, ignoring the pain caused by the fall. I looked all around me totally disoriented and I remained momentarily still, crouched, moaning like a wounded animal. While I rubbed my sore back I realized that it was only a nightmare, a very real nightmare, since I had dreamed that I was reliving Juan's death, the airplane crash, and again I held Alex's inert body in my hands. Drops of sweat fell from my forehead, my hands were shaking. I took deep breaths for a while then I decided to move on. I only wished to move as far away from the airplane as I could, where I had lost a part of my life. My past was terrible and my future looked grim.

My back hurt a lot probably because of the position I had slept in, or the fall or both at once and I felt a little under the weather. I climbed back up the tree while I was still whining, to get the backpacks and I realized that the backpack that had the food was missing. The jolt from the surprise almost knocked me off the tree again. Without that backpack there was nothing to do. I was scared, I looked for it between the branches and, when I thought that I would never find it, I saw that it had fallen on the ground with all its content sprawled around. I had probably thrown it myself, dragging it in my fall or when I moved at night. I got down carefully with the other backpack on my shoulder and gathered everything that I was able to locate: three soft drink cans, a cold cut sandwich, and some half eaten cookies, full of ants, a box with packets of salt to use in salads and the two boxes, which turned out to be quince. The rest had disappeared, I supposed that the animals had taken them. I came to a conclusion that it had fallen during the night.

I decided to make an inventory of everything I had, to see what could be useful and throw away the things that weren't. It made no sense to be carrying useless weight and I needed to know what means I had at my disposal. In my backpack, apart from the food, I found the knife that I had bought my father, all the wood figurines, a travel guide of Central Africa, a pack of tissues, 8x30 binocular, a khaki cloth cap and an "I love Namibia" t-shirt. From the medicine kit I still had a half-empty aspirin box, a whole box of anti-diarrheal, a bandage, three band-aids and a few anti-motion-sickness pills. And documentation of course. In Juan's backpack, there was also his documentation and, in addition, the three airplane blankets and one pillow, a small book with Swahili sentences, his sunglasses, a hat, chocolate bars, an almost empty one liter plastic bottle of water, a fork, a big wood figurine of an elephant and several smaller ones, an almost full pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

I couldn't take the two backpacks, so I put everything in mine, which was in better shape, except one of the blankets, the pillow that occupied a lot of space and all the wood figurines, useless in this place; I buried and covered them with trash. While I was throwing some of the things, I remembered the people who they belonged to; to Elena, to my family, my friends, Alex, Juan, it didn't take me much to start crying again, I would never see them anymore, none of them. Well I would see Alex and Juan soon, in heaven or wherever one goes after death.

The chocolate bars were completely melted by the heat, I ate them at once, cleaning the wrapper with my tongue until there was no trace of it left. They tasted like heaven. I also drank what little water was left in the bottle. At that moment, I realized that I had to stop for a minute to think about what my next step would be. Some questions arose in my mind: Do the rebels know I survived? Where do I have to go now?

I had no answer for my first question. Perhaps they had obtained a confession from one of the passengers who had seen me, maybe they checked the area and found my trail or the can that I threw on the ground after drinking it (that had been a huge mistake, even though at that moment I was only thinking about running away), perhaps they were on all sides and they would find me anyway, or maybe they didn't know a thing. Anyway, from now on, I had to try to be more careful and to leave the least possible trails anywhere I went.

Regarding the direction where I was headed, I seemed to recall that from the airplane, during the vertiginous landing, I saw that there was a town in the horizon, in a huge clearing in the woods. What I didn't know was if it was the rebels’ base or what, but it was very probable that it would be, since it was very close to where they had attacked us from. Since we were going from the South of Africa toward the North, I reasoned that if I kept going North, I would arrive at the end of the forest, to another country, and I would have more possibilities of finding help. I really missed my friends a lot right now! Alex's overflowing enthusiasm, optimism and joy would have come in handy just about now, and Juan's cold analytical capacity, his serenity and his decision making skills when confronted with a situation. Oh how I needed their company right now, to give me enough courage to confront this unavoidable unsought challenge that presented itself to me! This would have been much easier with them, even an adventure that I would tell upon my return; but they were dead, assassinated, exterminated without mercy, like annoying flies, annihilated in the best years of their lives... and I had to survive despite everything. Assholes, sons of...! Relax, Javier, relax, I had to try to keep calm, it was my only option to have some chance. Alright, the Sun is supposed to rise in the East and set in the West, so if it had risen more or less from this side... it would have to set in that direction. If with that system of orientation I arrived somewhere, it would not be through ability, but a miracle. Anyway, to be sure, I carefully climbed up one of the highest trees I could see.

It was easy, since it had many branches to use as stairs, although the more I climbed, the smaller they got and more flexible too, so I was extra careful to only step on the base of the branches, which were the widest and most resistant parts. It overshadowed most of the trees and when I almost arrived at the top, the landscape that unraveled was frightening. A green sea stretched in all directions like a tapestry, going up and down, following the outline of the ground, imitating waves, a vast extension of life. Only some lone trees much higher than the rest stuck out in the immensity of that tapestry formed by the frond of the infinite number of treetops in the forest. I only saw treetops everywhere I looked, it was endless. Even with binoculars I didn't see a thing on all sides. The truth is, that wasn't very helpful in my search for a direction to follow. I got down from the tree and I hid Juan's backpack with everything I had left in it, half buried underneath a fallen trunk. At the last moment I decided to keep the giraffe I had gotten Elena, if I ever saw her again, I wanted to have a gift for her. I looked around one last time to verify that I hadn't left any clear signs of my presence and, when I was moderately convinced, I began to walk without too much hope. I really needed my friends!

During the hike, I found some colorful birds with showy red chests and the rest of their body greenish^[6]. They fluttered around between the branches of the trees with incredible agility, in flocks of about twelve or fifteen birds. As soon as I made a little noise they disappeared in a jiffy. Those beautiful animals took me away for a second from the overwhelming sensation of solitude with which the forest struck me relentlessly, an oppressive world, hostile, merciless, permanently gloomy, in which oppression, depression or suffocation were no more than normal road companions.

The way was difficult, I constantly had to make detours or jump over obstacles. Sometimes there were small clearings, but I skirted them for fear of being too visible. I was incessantly sweating and I was very thirsty, but I didn't want to drink another soft drink because I only had three left. It must have been about 80ºF with a high level of humidity, which accentuated the sensation of oppression and heat. I took off my shirt for a while, but I got bitten by so many mosquitos that I had to put it back on. At times the landscape thickened too much and I had to open my way through with a stick I had picked up and that I used as a machete. In such cases, I basically wasn't going forward, because with the stick the best I could do was separate the branches from the way while I went through, and not cut them. In addition, my lower legs and my forearms were covered in wounds because they were rubbing against the plants on those parts of my body where the clothes didn't cover my skin. Even my face itched in several places, which led me to believe it was also cut.

Sometimes the ground was full of demolished branches or trunks, other times the ground was soft, full of fallen leaves, and I had to walk carefully so I wouldn't twist an ankle in some hole or slip, because that would be fatal. In some areas, the treetops were so tight that they prevented the light from coming through, creating a very gloomy shaded atmosphere; or they formed several floors of lights of different shades depending on the heights. I passed those parts scared because it gave me the impression I was constantly being attacked by ghosts, that in fact were the highest branches of the trees moving to the sound of the wind that must have been in the green ceiling of the forest and that also made them produce a frightening perennial howl that harassed me from all sides. On several occasions, I found the forest to be so thick it was absolutely impassable and I had to make huge detours to keep going forward. I never thought it was possible to have so many different plants all together. I no longer saw the romanticism of walking in the forest like explorers, even worse, I wished to leave this place as soon as possible. In addition, as in general I was making too much noise, I walked with a sinking heart thinking that if they were following me, it would be very easy to locate me.

At night, there was incessant noise coming from everywhere, it wasn't the same noise, but I heard insects humming, strange bird songs in the treetops, some screams that I supposed came from monkeys or something similar. At least the disquieting roars were not heard, they must have come from some nocturnal hunter, or at least that's what I wanted to believe. I didn't exactly see many animals, but I could feel them all.

I checked the time on my watch. It was ten in the morning. I had been walking for an hour and I couldn't walk any longer. My knee had already started to send warning signals, I noticed that it was a little swollen. On many occasions I felt as if my ligaments had moved from their place and I had to put them back again, massaging them smoothly but firmly. I sat down on the ground to rest a little, leaning on a trunk of an extra tall tree and I rubbed it with my hands. The heat was a little comforting for my knee. I was in a rather clear area. I had been sitting for a while when I saw a bird that looked like a parrot on the branch of a tree. It had matt bluish plumage, whose only difference of color was its red tail, the white halos around the eyes, and its black beak that emitted almost human screams^[7]. It practically turned its head in all directions without moving the rest of its body, which reminded me of the girl from The Exorcist. It swayed its way to a tree fruit and began to peck it. The fruit was reddish-orange, as large as a hand and in the shape of a pumpkin.

"Surely you know where you are," I said to myself, "of course you do."

I rested for almost half an hour and then I started walking again. Whenever I skirted a clearing and had to retake the supposedly correct direction I was even more convinced that I could be spinning in circles for years without ever knowing. It all looked the same to me and the sun was no longer helpful. I checked its position in the sky, I verified it with the time on my watch and reached the conclusion that I had no idea what I was doing. I maintained the same pace all morning; I walked an hour and then rested awhile. During my breaks, I read the book of Swahili sentences or the travel guide to keep my mind busy with something, maybe it could be of some help being able to communicate with somebody in a hypothetical encounter. With each stop, it became harder to stand up and keep going, my knee made me limp and around 2 p.m. I was worn-out.

I was to blame for everything, I was the one who had dragged my friends to this infernal place, it is my fault they had died. If I had done as they had suggested, we would now be on our way back from Italy with a lot of pictures of Venice and some postcards from Tuscany. My fault, it was all my fault.

I was thirsty and my stomach wouldn't stop growling. I was facing a dilemma: Should I eat well to recuperate or save it, given the food shortage I suffered and risk having something happen to me? I expected it would be easy to find food and water in a forest, or at least that's what I thought at the time, and I was very hungry, so I chose to drink one of the soft drinks and to eat the already bitten cookies, blowing at the ants to chase them away, and the sandwich. It alleviated my tenacious appetite a little. I kept the quince thinking that it would last a bit more time before going bad. Then, I fell asleep because I was worn out and because I couldn't sleep the previous night.

When I woke up I heard a hissing sound close by. There must have been a snake nearby. I remained completely silent trying to sharpen my hearing to discover where the sound came from. Fear tied my stomach in knots and it became harder for me to breathe. I once saw a documentary on snakes that was called "The Two Step Snakes" because when they bit you, you could only walk two steps before falling dead. Given the situation, this didn't feel like such an awful idea, but what if I got bit by one that would make me agonize for hours, losing control bit by bit, before getting to the paroxysm of madness... I was so scared of suffering, and I panicked at the thought of pain. If I had to die, I wanted it to be fast. I almost wished for it, so I could free myself from the situation I was in. I deserved it. I felt the hissing sound was getting closer by the second, I could also hear the leaves crackling under its weight, it was coming my way, I was sure of it. I could almost feel it creeping over my body, sliding on my leg in the direction of my neck, it was almost there, and it was going to bite me. I closed my eyes for a second and I took a deep breath trying to calm myself down. Then, I opened my eyes again and without moving, not even an inch, I rolled my eyes in all directions trying to locate it. I finally saw it. It was still, coiled on a branch ten feet away to my right, about six feet up from the ground. It moved only its head from side to side, as if it was watching over something. It was green with a slight bluish touch, a bit yellow on the sides, with a long tail, a little over 3 feet tall, and a thin body, as if it was laterally compacted, almost invisible between the leaves^[8]. When it slid on the branch I could see that it had an off-white belly.

I stayed there awhile longer, not moving and listening, until I was convinced that it was this one that I had heard and that the rest was all in my head. I rose slowly and carefully scrutinized the ground in search of another snake, but the one I saw was the only one. At least the only one I had found. At first, I thought about making a detour and distancing myself from it, but then I remembered that people always said that snake meat tasted like chicken, that it was very good. Or at least that's what grandparents told as jokes about the Civil War and the hunger they endured. It seemed like a good opportunity to obtain food and, if on top of that it tasted good, then that was even better. I looked for a long wooden stick with a "V" shaped tip to try to hold its head. I also took out the knife from my pocket, I opened it and stuck it around my waist, against my long shorts. I found a suitable fallen branch and I gave it the shape that I wanted, trimming one of the ends in a "V" shape and without ever losing sight of the snake. The preparation process seemed endless and it exhausted me, although in fact it didn’t require that much physical effort.

When I was ready, I stealthily walked toward the snake. It didn't seem to notice my presence or it was ignoring me, anyway, it didn't pay any attention to me. When I was about 2 feet away from it, I raised the stick and I hit it in the head with all my strength. With the first blow, it was still half hanging so I gave it two more blows until it fell to the ground. Then, I hooked the head with the tip of the stick and squeezed it firmly against the ground. The snake was shaking convulsively, it didn't stop hissing, and I was terrified. If I loosened my grip so I could hit it from a distance with the stick, it could attack me, the other option was to get closer and to nail it with the knife. I gathered my courage, I came closer to it and I forcefully stepped on the tail, crushing it against the ground in an attempt to keep it still. I crouched down and I nailed the knife right under the head of the reptile, glued to the stick, keeping it thrust into the ground. Even like that, it wouldn't stop shaking, so, I un-nailed the knife and I sawed the neck until the head was cut from the rest of the body. Then, I took a step back, ignorantly afraid that it might still be able to attack me. The tail wouldn't stop moving, spitting blood from where the head previously hung. I hit it a couple of times with the stick, but it didn't change a thing, so I decided to leave it awhile. In a matter of seconds, it gradually stopped moving until it remained completely still. I touched it a couple of times with the stick but it didn't move. It was definitively dead. I was finally able to breathe calmly again.

My first triumph in the forest. The man had dominated the beast. I felt totally euphoric, for a moment, all my problems dissolved like sugar in a glass of hot milk. Now I knew that I would survive and that I would leave this place. I was an authentic adventurer, a born survivor. Now, nothing could keep me from finding the exit in this green labyrinth and returning to my house, my home. Mother Nature had challenged me and I had demonstrated my worth, my capacity for adjustment and survival. Now, I knew I was the winner of this unequal combat against myself and the hostile elements.

I grabbed the snake and opened it in half with the knife, removing as much of the guts as I could, not without feeling quite disgusted. For that reason, I took it by one end and I spun around in circles at full speed, making fast laps, the guts flying off all over the place. But then I thought that this went against my plan of being discreet and not drawing attention, but there were already snake remains everywhere and I really didn't feel like gathering them. I finished cleaning what was left with the knife, which gave me an urge to vomit, it was disgusting. Then, I skinned it. When it was ready, I suddenly thought of a problem. I couldn’t make a fire to roast it because they would discover my existence and my location, so I would have to eat it raw. I looked at the bloody meat reluctantly. I cut a big chunk and I put it in my mouth. If animals ate it raw I could do it as well. I chewed a couple of times then I spat it all out. It was revolting! It had the consistency of plastic, as if I was trying to eat one of my sisters' dolls or a half worn out cartilage. I had always liked my meat to be well done, I could never eat it rare and, as it happens, even less if it is completely raw. What had always repulsed me the most were things with the consistency of that meat: barely cooked chicken skin, bacon, tripe...

I took the remains of the snake and those of my food and I buried them, feeling completely disappointed. Then I threw some leaves on the hole to better disguise it. What good is it to find food if I cannot eat it? Risk getting bitten and killed by a snake, for what? On top of that, there was the problem of water. I had to find something because I couldn't quench my terrible thirst and I only had two sodas left. I dropped to the ground, sweating abundantly because of the effort made to capture the snake. Defeated, I drank one of the two sodas and I threw the can away. Let them discover me, after all it is better to die riddled with bullets than to die of hunger, its faster. Anyway, I had scattered the guts of the snake all around in a six foot diameter. Farewell to the winner, farewell to the born survivor, all hail the failure who was going to die in a wild garden. I deserved it, so I couldn't complain. I had killed my two best friends. Anyway I knew that I had seen something on the television about water in the forest, I remember them saying that it was easy to obtain in one place, in a particular way, but I couldn't remember where.

I was there, for I don’t know how long, seated on the ground, with my arms on my knees, head down, my mind completely blank, letting myself go. Resignation, conformism, abandonment, giving up on life. The plane crash with the death of Alex, to see how they riddled Juan with bullets, the euphoria after the snake situation and the ensuing deception, the fatigue, the sleepiness... too many things in practically twenty-four hours, too many intense emotions. Why did Juan have to be so stupid and start running that way? Why did he leave me alone? At least we would have both been here and everything would have been different; but no, he had to try to flee that way, so... so... I wanted to return home, to close my eyes and when I opened them I'd be in my bed and all of this would have been one big realistic nightmare, more realistic even than they usually are, a bad dream like any other, an anecdote to tell in the evening when I meet with my fiancée and my friends. I started crying, but there were almost no tears falling from my eyes.

Lost, discouraged, disillusioned and feeling faint, fatigued and sleepy. I did not know what to do. In the end by a simple act of automatism I buried the can that I had thrown away and I stood up to keep walking, although now at a much slower pace, letting myself go, almost dragging my feet. I was walking and stopping intermittently until eight o'clock at night. My breaks were longer every time I stopped, and so the walking distances became shorter. I used the stick that I had used with the snake for support, that way I unloaded some pressure from my injured knee, although at that time I already couldn't feel my legs. To walk for the sake of it, without at least trying to set a proper course, after all, I didn't know how to do it with certainty and I could almost say that I didn't care. Why did I have to convince them to come here, why? I never listened to anybody, I always had to have it all my way. Look where my desire to control everything, to command, had landed me. Juan, you're an idiot. Why did you start running that way, committing suicide? That was all your fault, I had nothing to do with that. Your fault. Yours.

When I couldn’t resist anymore, I ate one of the boxes of quince, entirely, and I drank the last soda that was left, hiding away all the rest, including one of the two blankets I had left. What did I want two for? The less weight I carried the better. In addition, they gave out too much heat and when I carried the backpack, I had the feeling that my back was roasting, since my t-shirt was permanently stuck to my body from the sweat, which produced an uncomfortable sensation. I also started to feel a constant sensation of dizziness, possibly because I was dehydrated from the lack of water. It didn't surprise me, I knew that refreshments seemed to quench your thirst at the moment you drank them but they did not hydrate much. The yoyo effect a companion of mine from school called it, because of the sugar it has he said.

As it was growing dark and I didn't feel like sleeping so uncomfortably in a tree I looked for a sheltered place, where the ground was dry, I made a meager mattress from leaves and green branches, I curled up covered with the small blanket and with the backpack for a pillow, I fell asleep. I had spent my first whole day in the forest and I was already more than sick of it, I was very tired and I hoped that this would end in any way possible.

DAY 3

HOW MY SUFFERINGS BEGAN

Something was attacking me, my whole body was itching. I jumped up immediately, shouting, my head totally cleared out. I looked at my hands and they were covered with red ants with big heads, my body was coated in them. They stung me everywhere, repeatedly. I took off my clothes, almost ripping them off, and I started swatting my body with my hands, jumping, moving and squirming around like the tail of a lizard, shouting and moaning from pain. Some went into my mouth, forcing me to spit over and over again, others went into my nose, my ears, everywhere. It was like an entire swarm of bees had decided to attack me at the same time. Little by little I was able to get rid of the ants, but it took me about ten minutes to realize that there were no ants left on my body. An endless column of ants^[9] crossed the area where I had slept. My entire body was red from the beating I had given myself to get the ants off me and it was full of red dots even redder than the bites those damn insects had inflicted on my body. It all itched so much that I didn't even know where to start scratching. Although there were no ants left on me anymore, from time to time I felt like something scampered on my body and again, I would start shaking convulsively.

When I dominated my rage and my frustration a little, I took my backpack and I also shook all the ants off of it, I did the same with the blanket and the clothes I had scattered around on the ground. I only put my sneakers on and I packed the rest in my backpack. I took some stones and branches and I threw them on the neat column of ants with fury while I insulted them. For a little while I lost control, anger took me over, yes, ants were guilty of everything, I had to end the ants, they put me in this stupid situation and they were going to pay for it. I stepped on them over and over again, furious, frenetic, as if I was possessed by an unstoppable destructive fervor. Some climbed on my legs, biting me again, but I no longer felt a thing, the pain had ceased to exist for a moment. I only had one thought in my head: kill the ants. I stomped on and kicked the ones that were on the ground and with hard slaps, I squashed those that were on my body, crushing them against my legs, my arms or my chest. For a few minutes, that was my only war, my only world: stomping, slapping with my hand, shouting with anger, frustration, bottled in for too long. A furious Gulliver destroying the world of Lilliput. Then I moved away a few steps, I crumbled on the ground and I stayed there for a while, gone, totally surrendering to my fate, blind to what was happening around me, oblivious of any other thing that was not nothingness and inner emptiness. I finally came back to my senses. At night I thought I had heard the murmur of a nearby stream, so I went looking for it, naked, careless, shaking, and my entire body itching, the stick in my hand and my backpack on my shoulder. Leaving behind me a myriad of squashed ants and many more scampering around in their particular dance of disorganized madness.

Indeed, my hearing had not deceived me. A river of about sixteen feet wide made its way through the middle of the forest, before my eyes. My first intention was to take my shoes off and to throw myself in the water, but I remembered something about leeches, so first, I carefully inspected the water on the riverbank letting caution take over my desperation for a moment. The sheer thought of having one stuck on my body, hooked, absorbing my blood, made me shudder. When I touched the water with my hand I noticed that it wasn't too cold for me to be able to stand it for a while. I didn't see anything, except some precious small colorful fish, some more colorful than others, that were too small to eat and too pretty to kill. Their body was long and flattened, their tail divided in three parts, the middle one looked like a bird's feather, their eyes were proportionally big in comparison to their head, they had an iridescent blue color, but when the rays of sun reflected on their body, an incredible range of colors from blue to violet blurred on their scales^[10]. I looked for some other things like piranhas, crocodiles or something similar and I didn't find a thing. So I decided to soak a little after drinking a bit of water.

I walked a little into the water, first making sure with the stick that the ground was steady. I kept my sneakers on, because I was afraid to get bitten by a bug or to have something nailed in my foot. The first contact gave me the chills because of the contrast between the temperature of the water and the outside temperature, although I immediately got used to it. Some dragonflies with vivid colors flew around me, with their long shape and their fast and confident way of flying. There were also a large number of insects, either flying or scampering on the surface of the water as if it were a skating rink.

When the water reached my knees, I stopped and I got all my body wet with my hands. The refreshing effect of the water over the infinite number of ant bites and scratches on my swollen knee was an indescribable sensation of relief. Being in the water for a while, forgetting everything, enjoying every second, put me in a state of deep relaxation. I closed my eyes and I submerged my head in the water holding my breath as long as I could, feeling the coolness all over my skin, surrounding it and smoothly caressing it. For a brief moment all the problems, the preoccupations, just vanished. I also drank big gulps of water, until I felt completely satiated. When I got out of the water, determined to survive at all costs, my spirits were reinforced and my mind ready to fight.

I heard a noise in a nearby tree and I quickly hid in the bushes. They had found me, naked and off guard, they were definitely going to kill me, to assassinate me without any mercy, to sacrifice me like a vile animal. I did not want to die, could I have thrown them off track? Didn't I deserve a little serenity? Hadn't I had enough with the ants? The images of Juan riddled with bullets by the rebels popped in my head like a succession of short flashes. Alex's lifeless body seated in the airplane after the crash with blood dripping from his forehead tormented me once more. I imagined myself bleeding from several holes in my body inflicted on me by the shootings of the rebels, lying on the ground at the foot of a huge tree, they laugh at me while I'm in agony. The pain... I scanned the leaves of the trees and I finally discovered the origin of the sound: a monkey about two foot tall with a tail as long as its body, a bluish face, it had a tuft of dark hair on each side between eye and ear, and a white oblique one over the eyes, most of its body was yellowish brown, except its throat, chest and belly that were white^[11]. Perhaps I wasn't predestined to die that day. Little by little, more monkeys appeared, until there were five of them, jumping from branch to branch and squealing. They must have been playing or something, they perched themselves on a branch and they shook it energetically while they shrieked. Perhaps they were in their mating season, I had no idea, but it was a huge show. Little by little, my heart started beating at a normal pace again. The last thing I saw was one of them picking something up from the ground and eating it, from where I was standing it looked like a centipede.

On the other riverbank, I saw another monkey of similar shape but with different colors. This one had a black face, white sideburns and a beard that spread over its chest and parts of the arms. Its color was more blackish and it had an orange reddish triangular spot on its back. It was bigger than the other one and it was relatively more robust^[12]. It drank a little water raising it to its mouth with its hand then it disappeared. I watched the others play and jump for a while, it was a unique experience that I never thought I'd ever see. Once again I remembered my two dead friends and how they would have enjoyed seeing this, especially the cheerful Alex, always so curious about everything. Now with whom would I talk about these moments, with whom would I share them? Nobody who hadn’t lived it with me could have understood it. No! I shouldn't think about that, it didn't help me keep going forward and what I needed now was to garner as much energy as I possibly could to be able to survive. Leaving this damn forest had to be my only goal. To escape this green hell.

I took off my sneakers, I twisted them a little to drain the water and I hooked them on the extremities of some branches to dry them out. Then I took the bottle and I looked for a small stream to fill it, I thought I read somewhere that it was worse to take water from sites where the water was stagnant because there were more possibilities of it being insanitary or having some type of bug. Good thing I remembered that before drinking. My entire body wouldn't stop itching, although with less intensity than before. I felt a throbbing pain in my thigh and when I looked at it to check if I had a bruise, I saw a leech stuck on my leg, sucking the blood out of me. It was some sort of a slug, thinner maybe. At first I got scared, then I calmed down and thought about a solution. If I remembered well, you could remove leeches with salt or by burning them. I took out the lighter and burned it with the flame until it shrank, I took advantage of that moment and removed it with the knife. It left a red spot in the place it had been before, a drop of blood oozed on the edge. I heated the tip of the knife with the lighter and I carefully cauterized the wound. I had no idea if leeches infected the wound they created or not and I preferred not to risk it. It hurt so much that I had to make a huge effort not to scream at the top of my lungs. I checked the rest of my body in case I had another one, but there were none. Now on my leg I had the shape of the tip of my knife tattooed by the burn. I was going to have a tremendous blister. Perhaps I shouldn't have done such an outrageous thing.

Laziness took control of my body and I decided to take the morning off. So many consecutive emotions were tiring, I was exhausted and my body weighed a ton. I looked for a spot in the shade and when I was dry I put my clothes on and I used the souvenir t-shirt from Namibia that I had in the backpack, to cover all my head with, including my face, to avoid contact with the annoying and abundant insects that lingered on the riverbank. Before lying down, I checked out a shrub that was close to me, I had already seen many like it, with a showy carmine fruit with small bluish seeds^[13]. Could it be edible? I crushed a confused ant that I wasn't able to shake off of my clothes. I closed my eyes and I let myself go into a state of drowsiness, dozing off, the heat and the humidity weighing on my muscles and willpower.

A shot, then a burst from some automatic weapon, more shots. I immediately jumped to my feet. I heard the shots on the other bank of the river, although distant. Now I was sure I wasn't imagining it, they were going to find me at any moment now. Suddenly, it came back to me that my situation did not allow me to just relax. Not maintaining all my senses in constant alert was my road to perdition.

I quickly gathered all my things, I shoved the shirt in the backpack, I put my socks and sneakers on and I picked the stick up. They were still wet, but at that moment, I didn't have time to concentrate on such nonsense. I decided that the best way possible to get somewhere, was to walk along the riverbed, but it seemed quite dangerous to me to follow along the riverbank, so I ventured into the forest once again to try and go unnoticed between the foliage and walk thirteen or fifteen feet away, parallel to the river. It was a small world, I looked in all directions and didn't find more than an impenetrable green wall without any exit. At most, I saw 13 or 16 feet in front of me. I soon lost the river and, once again, I was on my way to nowhere.

I walked at a fast pace at times and a slower one at others for the entire afternoon with little moments of rest. Just enough to catch my breath a little and to listen for more shots in case there were others. I had to permanently put up with the sound my sneakers were making with each step I took, similar to the one produced when you step into a puddle, and the sporadic cramp warnings in my calf. The density of the foliage increased incrementally, plunging into the shadows in some places. There were mosquitos everywhere, they wouldn't stop harassing me as if we were in an endless battle. Sometimes they reminded me of the Japanese kamikazes of World War II, swooping down on their target without any regard for their lives. The mosquitos were the same, continuously throwing themselves at my body, regardless of the casualties I caused with my hands, using them as antiaircraft artillery. Some were so big that they looked more like giant bombers rather than fighter aircrafts, whose mere presence could make the enemy apprehensive. When I saw them approaching I immediately tensed up, ready to avoid them. There were always some hungry ones, I had plenty of bites on my arms and legs, in places where my clothes did not cover my body. Some were even on the same bites the other ants from this morning had left me. I was fighting a losing battle, a banal, futile, useless fight, since they had no end and I was increasingly tired. They bothered me so much that I decided to cover the parts that my clothes didn't with moist soil, creating an impenetrable barrier between them and my naked skin. That fleeting idea saved me. It was uncomfortable to move, especially when it dried, but the continuous attacks were worse.

Thanks to this trick I was able to forget those ruthless insects for a good while and, although I couldn't claim victory yet, at least it was a temporary truce. It also had the surprising effect of stopping the itching where the ants had previously been. Finally, a lucky break.

I didn't stop looking around, I had the constant feeling that I was being followed, that I was getting increasingly cornered, in a limitless forest. I even thought I heard steps and voices behind me or saw fleeting faces of guerrilla men watching me with ferocity from between the trees, constantly monitoring me. The truth is I didn't really see anything with clarity, I didn't find a single trace of their presence in the area. I had the impression that the trees bent over my head, imprisoning me more and more in a living wooden cell. I didn't know if I was becoming paranoid or what, but I had to calm down if I wanted to survive in this unfamiliar and deadly forest.

While I was madly wandering, I came across a gruesome scene. What seemed to be a family of primates, as large as a chimpanzee or similar, were lying in a glade without hands, feet or heads in the middle of large pools of blood, parched and surrounded by thousands of flies and all types of insects and scavengers. The stink coming from them was unbearable and I couldn't avoid instantly having vomit come up my throat. I gathered my strength and looked again. There were two that must have been adults and a smaller one. There didn't appear to be any young ones, what I didn't know was why they hadn't slaughtered them too, was it because there were none or because they had taken them to sell them on the black market. I knew that there were particular parts of animals that were easily sold as aphrodisiacs in the Asian countries: rhino horns, tiger bones and other things like that. Perhaps this was for something of the sort. I decided to get away as fast as possible from that damned place. This discovery not only confirmed once again the cruelty of the human race, but it also demonstrated that I was walking in areas frequented by furtive hunters, surely not very friendly with strangers.

I was very affected by everything that was happening. At a certain point, I finally felt a strong cramp in my calf of my right leg and it forced me to stop and stretch it while I squeezed my mouth shut from the pain and writhed on the ground. I had to stay seated for a while before I was able to move again and it kept bothering me non-stop for the rest of the day. Several times I thought the cramp was back and I had to stop to stretch my leg. When it started growing dark I was completely exhausted and I hadn't advanced a lot because I was forced to walk at a slow pace. My legs were especially exhausted from all the walking, my knee and calf were sore and my feet were almost numb. Looking at it from a positive point of view, if I ever left this place, I would have eliminated the incipient beer belly that was starting to show. It’s still something. I shouldn't lose my sense of humor that could perhaps save me. It was the only thing I had left, that and my desire to live. Elena, what would I give for one of your hugs right now, for a smile! Or for one of those tasty dishes that you prepared!

I sat on top of a fallen trunk, I ate all the quince that I had left and I took a big sip of water. I only had around a fifth of the bottle left and no food. I would spend this third night in a tree, after the ants experience I didn't think I'd be able to sleep, since the ants are on both the ground and on the trees, but what I least wished for was to get captured asleep by the scoundrels who fired the shots . Like the first night, I looked for a suitable tree and when I found it, I climbed to the chosen branch with the help of a creeper. As soon as I put my hand on it, I had to take it off because I felt a sharp prick. The creeper had thorns. I rubbed my injured palm and I looked for another tree to climb on. When I found it I carefully climbed it and I prepared myself to spend another night in hell. I took my sneakers and socks off and I prayed they would be dry in the morning, although I highly doubted it, since the air was almost permanently humid. My feet were wrinkled and had a light brownish green color. I dried them as well as I could, but the uncomfortable sensation persisted anyway. I tried to get warm, but I couldn't, neither with the blanket nor by rubbing my body. The ants and mosquito bites incessantly bothered me, but there was nothing I could do about it. The only thing that relieved this discomfort, was when I rubbed the humid mud on my body to avoid the bites, at those moments the constant itching was replaced by a comforting sensation that I wouldn't know how to describe. I felt a constant pain in my legs that I couldn't pinpoint, and in my back too. My right arm was numb from exhaustion from giving imaginary machete blows with the stick all day long.

I was so exhausted that I immediately fell asleep. My last thought was about hoping to wake up the next day to a breakfast with a huge glass of milk with honey and some toast covered in butter and strawberry or blackberry jam.

DAY 4

HOW I SURVIVED A TROPICAL STORM

A very close noise woke me up and I almost fell to the ground from terror. This was it. They had discovered me, I was finished. All this effort for nothing, I let them catch me off guard, neglected, and now I was going to pay the price. I held the branch tightly and I looked, frightened, in every direction searching for the rebels, shouting "do not shoot me, do not shoot me!" But I didn't see anything. If it had been them, they would have shot me or, at least, forced me to get down from the tree, so I supposed it was a false alarm. Then what kind of animal had gone through here, I was a little obsessed.

"Can't I wake up just one day relaxed?" I grumbled aloud "Can't you leave me alone for just a little while?

The truth is I didn't care. I got down to the ground and I stretched, generously yawning. I had slept a good handful of continuous hours, but my back hurt like hell. In addition, as soon as my thoughts were a little clearer, I started feeling the continuous itching in my legs and arms, where ants and mosquitos had sunk their teeth. Sleeping in a branch wasn't the best thing for my body, but honestly it seemed better than the ground, where I was at the disposal of every person or animal that went through here. I carefully checked my legs and arms and saw that some wounds, mainly those caused by chafing against plants, were infected. Just what I needed. I heard an increasing roar that turned out to be my stomach. I was atrociously hungry and I did not have anything left to eat. My priority for the day was to find food, since water wasn't an issue at the time being, because I had located the river once again. I would have liked to have the reasonable Alex by my side to listen to his always meditated and wise advice. But I was alone, Alex was dead, Juan was dead and I was left alone. It was my fault, all my fault.

I walked to the river to wash my face a little and drink water. I also filled up the bottle. I drank so much water that I felt momentarily satiated, but that would only last a short time. I sat on a rock and I pondered the best way to obtain food. While I tried to find a solution I noticed a tree near me that reminded me of something. I observed it carefully. I knew there was something about that tree, it was that feeling of having something on the tip of your tongue and not knowing what it was. Then I remembered. It was the same type of tree where I had seen that sort of parrot eating his fruit. That's when the light bulb switched on over my head, where finally the idea broke the molds of forgetfulness, where necessity ended the stagnation of my mind. If animals ate that fruit I could possibly do it as well. I had read that some animals had a metabolism that was able to digest poisonous fruit, but most of the fruit they specifically picked, would also have to be edible for me, especially if a monkey ate it, and they were supposed to be the closest thing to a man in this place.

I stood up and walked to the tree. Then I climbed between the branches and I took two or three pieces of fruit, the ones that looked most appetizing. I got down with them and I sliced in half the first with the knife. The inside reminded me of the Siam pumpkin jam in its shape and texture, but in red. I peeled one of the halves and I took a small bite. I chewed it slowly, almost sucking on it. It tasted strange, but it was good. I ate the two halves voraciously and I peeled and ate the second one as well. When I cut the third one in half, I noticed it had tiny bugs in it and I threw it away. I climb the tree again and I took half a dozen more. I chose five of them between the greenest, so I could take them with me in the backpack and eat them another day, and the others to eat right away.

I finished my breakfast and I felt totally satisfied, as much for having eaten as for having been able to find the food. Anyway, I challenged myself to keep an eye out for other food sources from that moment on, different fruit or any other thing, since I could not solely subsist on that fruit. I decided to pay attention to the birds and monkeys. In addition, I had to think of a way to eat meat without having to cook it, since, although I had a lighter, I couldn't risk starting a fire from fear of attracting the rebels, unless I discovered a way of making a fire without smoke. Maybe if I ate it in very small pieces it wouldn't be that difficult. Something similar to carpaccio in Italian restaurants.

As I was scrutinizing the river in search of some fish with an edible appearance I noticed some plants that grew on its bank. They were more than two feet tall, green, and the newest leaves were a bit reddish. Their stem was covered with a bristling fuzz. The leaves were oval with serrated margins and denticles^[14]. What really intrigued me was its smell. It had a strong minty aroma. I thought that it could probably be useful so I picked a big handful of leaves. The forest never ceased to amaze me. Perhaps, after all, I could still find a way to survive. Again the euphoria.

That day I decided to continue like the previous afternoon: walking parallel to the riverbed without going too close to the riverbank. As far as I could remember, the Democratic Republic of the Congo did not have an exit to the sea, so if the river ended up in the ocean, it would be in another country, where there were no rebels and where I could find help. Anyway, the alternative method of guiding my way using the sun as a reference didn't seem to be working for me, since I had no sense of direction whatsoever.

The morning went by calmly. Walking and resting; although I felt a permanent fatigue that made it seem that my legs weighed 40 pounds each. From time to time I had the feeling I was being watched, fixed eyes permanently on my back, but I looked everywhere and never saw anybody, not even one sign of human life. The socks had surprisingly dried. The sneakers were still damp, but at least they no longer made that annoying noise, although my feet had definitively contracted some type of fungus, as if I had been in a pestilent swimming pool. Whenever I saw some kind of bird or animal I stood totally quiet and observed it to try to discover what it was eating, but I had no luck, I only saw it moving from one place to another, it didn't seem to be very hungry. Just my luck.

At a certain point, I felt something on my nose, I ran my hand over it and then looked at it, it seemed to be water. I looked upwards and watched as another one dropped and another one and another, until there was a moment it felt like the clouds were collapsing over me. The sky went dark almost instantly. It was raining, what I am saying, it was pouring rain like I had never seen before. I could hear the thunder far away in the distance and, from time to time, I caught a glimpse of the fleeting glow of lightning, glares that illuminated my surroundings as if they were lampposts. I quickly looked for a place to take shelter. The only thing I found was the possibility of hiding under a tree, curled up on the ground with the backpack under my legs. I put the cap on and I covered my body with the blanket. Then, imitating birds in moments like these, I arranged myself in a way to remain completely still to get wet as little as possible, letting the rain fall in the same place.

It rained non-stop for many hours, so many that it seemed more like days. I was hungry but I didn't dare move at all. The water had completely soaked the blanket and the t-shirt and I felt it falling in rivulets down my back. It also fell from the trunk of the tree and went underneath me in some places. More water, more thunder, more lightning. In those hours in which I didn't even move my head, I distracted myself trying to catch a glimpse of some small insect on the ground and, when I found it, I entertained myself watching how the drops fell on it or how it got dragged by the current. I also found a couple of worms feasting, covering themselves in mud, on the surface. And it continued raining and roaring, as if the Bantu creator god, Bumba, had been accumulating his strength and decided to let all his rage go in one blow, over my head, to finish me. I was cold and I began to shiver, my teeth chattering against my will, uncontrollably. Small streams formed in some places, running over obstacles heading in an unknown direction. I heard the river roaring behind me, stronger than before, I supposed it had risen because of the rain. Hunger pangs in my stomach became increasingly sharp and the rain kept on falling and falling. And more thunder and electrical sparks produced by the discharge of the battles between clouds. I was getting wetter. Staying still must be effective in small showers, but with storms like these, the only way to stay dry is having a ceiling and four walls, because I don't even think an umbrella could have saved me from looking as if I had been swimming in the river. Now I no longer had to worry about the fact that my shoes were wet, I just wanted to know when the sky would finish emptying itself on my defenseless head.

I was desperate. I began to think that this could last for days or even weeks. I remembered the Asian monsoons and their devastating consequences. It wasn't surprising that there were such high trees in the forest if they watered them like that quite often. If the storm lasted too long, this was going to look like an aquarium with monkeys instead of fish. Strangely, with the rain, most of the usual sounds and noises died down. The roaring of the falling water possibly tuned out everything or the creatures who produced them had gone home to take shelter. Everyone but me, I was there, in the middle of the storm of the century without a place to shelter myself, at the mercy of this weather. If I kept degrading this fast, the next thing I would be digging would be my tomb, to be able to bury myself when I died of physical and mental exhaustion. It didn't seem to be such a bad option after all, it almost felt like a desirable break instead.

A thunderbolt struck a tree, about thirty feet away from me, splitting it in two. The noise it produced left me deaf for a few seconds, the ground shook, the end of the world was near and I was lost. The upper part of the tree fell to the ground, stuck to the trunk of another tree that was still standing, its extremity burning, creating a loud uproar. A strange smell flooded the place. At first I was petrified, thinking about the danger I was in, being so close to another tree, imagining a thunderbolt piercing my body, instantly frying me from the inside; but then I watched the fire and I decided that, since I was already completely soaked, it wouldn't change much if I moved and got closer to the fire, it would at least give me some heat, something I strongly desired at that moment. I stood up and all my joints hurt as if a countless number of long needles had been nailed in them, especially in the knees. I had to try three times and to rub my legs repeatedly until I was able to move again. I stood just a few inches away from the flame.