Green began to take over the landscape. The roads we traversed became narrow and winding as we descended slowly into the heart of Manu. 

 The Inca Empire was a nation of four quarters spanning vastly different landscapes. The Antisuyo (jungle quarter) was conquered by the ninth Inca ruler, Pachakuti Inca Yapanki, who took control of four native tribes. One of these tribes was called Manosuya, which passed down its name to the Manu I stand in today. Incas traded cloth and copper or bronze axes with the natives in exchange for exotic goods, such as hardwoods, live monkeys and parrots, jaguar skin, turtle oil (for illumination), waxes, dyes, cocoa, vanilla, and the list goes on and on. Needless to say Antisuyo brought much prosperity to the Incas.

Manu National Park 🦋

The minivan stopped by a large wooden sign officially welcoming us to Manu National Park, though the first thing on all of our minds was not in fact to look around in wonder, but to urgently ask the park ranger where to find the toilets. Once our bladders had thanked us, we switched back to being totally in awe of the world we had found ourselves in. We walked a small trail, easing us into our new temporary lives. Butterflies of emerald and sapphire floated around us. Hummingbirds glistened as they took deep sips from sweet flowers. We walked slowly as if hoping that the essence of this world would soak into us, or perhaps soak us up into its aura. Then we turned a corner and confronted the infinity of the jungle. 

I swear those mountains were breathing long deep sighs, as relieved to see me and I was to see them. "Welcome home," they whispered on the breeze.

Coca Farms 🍃🦜

We found ourselves on a small family farm with uniform bushes of chartreuse leaves - a stark difference to the natural imperfection of the forest. Coca leaves were, and still are, a significant trade between the Amazon and the Andes, our guide explained. Once only used by Inca nobility, coca leaves are chewed and left in the gums of workers to provide energy and drank as a tea to alleviate altitude sickness. 

Cloud Forest ☁️

Time seemed to melt in the comfortable silence in which we urged our strained eyes to keep open, lest we missed a single tree that crossed our path, but eventually the first leg of our journey had come to an end. When the minivan had stopped we found ourselves in the cloud forest where we would rest for the night. Snaking down a narrow trail I looked in awe at the breathing mess of green that beckoned me to move forwards further

into its blanketed nest. Here we discovered leaf cutter ants (which would soon become a familiar sight), marching from tree to nest in orderly lines of efficient production. Those small leaf trinkets are used in the nest to cultivate a fungus that the ants use to feed their larvae. 

We drew closer to the sounds of a fast flowing river, until we were greeted by its blue-grey water and a suspension bridge. We had made it to camp, where we had a hearty meal with our kind hosts and promptly headed to bed where the forest lovingly lulled us to sleep with the distance chatter of insects and the ever flowing river of life. 

Río Madre de Dios 🛶

At last our journey on the roads had come to an end, and I was quite excited for what was to come; the boat ride. A long wooden boat with a tarp cover approached sailing under the name of the research centre, Crees Manu. The boat was alighted of the previous volunteers who wished us well and raved about their experience, though also warning us of the unpredictability of living so close to nature.  Carefully we helped each other arrange our bags at the back of the boat and settled into our seats to begin our final journey on río Madre de Dios, the river of the mother of God. 

The river was not brown and caiman infested as one might expect for it was not an Amazonian river. Instead the water was tinged green-blue with rocky shores, hinting at its origins in the mountains as an Andean river. The waters were fast moving picking up where two streams met, or at sharp bends. After two short hours, our boat driver killed the engine in what I could only consider to be any other part of the river, but to him we were home. On the left of us, a single wooden staircase led up into the vegetation. 

Manu Learning Centre 🛖

Up those stairs lay a small community of scientists, cooks and handy men, many of them local to the region, but all of them knitted together into the fabric of the forest. Our new homes, made of bamboo and corrugated iron, were simple and neat. We claimed our beds and headed to the common area for our first meal.

The comedor is an open air common area where we take our meals together. Across the way is a kitchen, and finally at the back stands a study room and the staff offices. We were welcomed with warm plates of rice and lentils which, to our delight, was delicious. I was easy to immediately feel at home in our new small community, and I am infinitely grateful for the generosity and genuine care behind each person's eyes.

Coming from city life to a community of no more than 30 people is an interesting shift in perspective. Kindness and honesty become paramount. I have always believed that people are not singular units and the first lesson that Manu taught us was exactly that. Each of us must muck in to keep the camp safe, tidy and comfortable. I have had the opportunity to talk honestly and freely with my fellow volunteers, safe in the knowledge that we will all experience discomfort together. And finally, I have met the incredible ecologists who work tirelessly to preserve this living, breathing world, and the staff who support them and make Crees Manu a home.