I swear my eyes are open! As I looked down to the ground I had to convince myself my eyes were seeking clarity of any kind, the darkness consumed every inch of color and depth, I entered a state I have never known. The sounds surrounded my body, the hums and buzzing crept into my ears, throwing off my balance as I tried to designate whether the stillness around me was silence, or complete chaos. I had just turned off my headlamp, silenced my mouth and tried to focus on the fluttering instances of glowing-ness... my brain could not decipher a thing besides the layered outlines above, perceived to be leaves against the clouded night-sky. My peripherals caught glimpses of shining organisms, fungi and iridescent leaves. The jungle embodies life, countless layers of living organisms- seeking light and water. Within any one centimeter of space I seem to stumble over what it is to be alive, what makes up an eco-system, co-habitation, photosynthesis, natural selection, breathe... the oxygen is heavy here, drenched in rain, it is wet, and sticky, necessary, perfect. It is collected by thousands of pores aching to grow, reaching to the sky. A route many of us take during our time here alive, a yearning to seek and grow, looking for a place to just be, supported in a space shared with others.

The Amazon feels just like I have always known it would... and yet I have never exactly put a feeling to the concept before now. It was clear in the moments we spent trekking through the mud and leaves, I have never, ever entered such an intricate web of life as this before. Our group hiked through secondary and primary forests, passing termite mounds nestled into branches, walking trees literally move their roots to seek light, and gurgling sounds from inside towering worm holes; we learned about the medicinal properties of countless leaves and flowers, tried the poisonous touch of stinging nettles, ate caterpillar larvae, painted our faces with red berries and made crowns and bracelets with palm frawns. We took a canoe into the jungle, adventured through various hikes, including the night hike touched on above, we practiced our Kichwa, learned about Shamans of the Amazon and spent time in local communities. One community was made up of one large extended family, within the banana and guava trees we waded through in mud and water, stood several stilted homes, typically housing five or more members. One one home in particular welcomed us in, the family taught us how to make the traditional Chicha drink by mashing, and fermenting Yucca, or cassava, for several days. They drink this for three meals a day. Our group of twenty sat under a small roof, with one room above, home to nine people, the rain poured down around us. The rain spilled off the roof, through a black tarp, down into a small bucket, just inside this lean to lay the kitchen fire and a couple dishes. On the fire they warmed plantains as we ground baked Cacao beans. With a pile of black powder in front of us we watched the methodical motions of the weather mother of the home, she swooped up the remains, plopped them into her only pan, dossed it with a cup of sugar and stirred over the fire. Within five minutes we were eating warm bananas dipped in real, luxurious, dark chocolate. Our stomachs were full, lips smiling rain jackets deemed completely useless. Drenched and happy, inundated with culture and language, we took in the sights of the Napo River, feeling the lifestyle difference exposed during this afternoon's adventure.

At times we seek to blend in, although it never truly manifests. We can be wise, and seasoned travelers, yet we are still visitors. The conversations never cease, we hold our heads high, although our composure is forever humbled by the various differences of this world, and our place within it. Seeking clarity in a living, breathing world of organisms.. each seeking light, water, and support. Some times selfishly seeking our goals, but usually actualizing the necessity of help from others.