The Zone Of Tranquility

 

 French backpackers at the hostel in Leticia, Colombia.

La Zona de Tranquillo as they call it down there -- the words mean the zone of quietness or calmness; the place of tranquility.

When I first heard trekkers at the hostel discussing it, I scoffed at the idea.  It reminded me of the so-called vortices or portals in the earth around Sedona, Arizona.  Some claim that energies there emerge from down deep that are conducive to spiritual enlightenment and supernatural phenomena.

I visited Sedona a few times in the Eighties and Nineties and noticed very little of this.  One exception was at the Chapel of the Holy Cross, reportedly built over one of these vortices.  There I did experience some moistening of the eyes, some emotion.  But I wasn't sure if it was from the mysterious energies or from the colors and beauty of the structure itself.

 

Chapel of the Holy Cross near Sedona, AZ.

  

According to the tales I was hearing in Leticia, the energy of La Zona was similar -- it can calm you down, put you into an altered state, even a trance, just by passing through or being there.  At first, it sounded like something out of the X-Files.

Well okay, I thought, I'll soon find out.  The next day I was heading up to another river town called Puerto Nariño -- and would be passing through this so-called zone en route.

 

Along the Amazon near Puerto Nariño. 

Puerto Nariño was two-and-a-half hours upriver by boat.  I had planned to take photos along the way, but as it turned out, didn't take any.  Somehow I passed out part way or fell asleep or something...for about an hour.  Coming to, I looked about at the other passengers -- a lot of them were blinking their eyes, coming to as well.

Hmmm, I thought as the boat bumped up to the town dock, I wasn't that tired when we left.  Why did I zonk out like that?  We were jammed into seats three across with the sun beating in -- conditions not conducive to good rest, especially for someone who likes to stretch out. 

Could it have been...?  No, it couldn't have -- I shook off any notion of the zone and disembarked to find a place to stay.  At midday in those parts, I don't loiter long out in the sun. 

A street in Puerto Nariño.  The great wide river in the background.

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One of the places to stay.  Note likeness of a toucan bird carved out of wood.

Evidently means no whizzing out the side door.

Renowned as an eco-village, Puerto Nariño is considered a model for sustainable living.  It's popular with vegans and the green crowd, especially backpacker-college-student types concerned with climate change.  It's touted as almost zero carbon emissions there due to a prohibition on vehicles.  

Many residents belong to tribal groups such as the Ticunas, the Yaguas and the Cocanas.  Off in the rain forest, you can still visit villages where the hunter-gatherer lifestyle hasn't changed in who knows how long.

Indigenous peoples' market at the waterfront.

  Great place to just take a stroll.

Because no motorized vehicles are allowed -- no cars, no tuk-tuks, no motorbikes -- people ambled about seemingly without a care.  They moved and talked more slowly in this, their own little vehicle-less world. 

Because all transportation was by boat or by foot power, a lot of normal irritants didn't exist.  No glancing over the shoulder that they might get run down, for instance.  No screeching of tires or blatting from mufflers or honking of horns.  The dogs even seemed more subdued.      

Compared to the bustle of Leticia, the town in general was quiet, almost too quiet.  As nice as it was with the tropical flowers and birds and thus, I found it boring to the point of being uncomfortable and was anxious to get going after two days.  It was just too lethargic or something.

A guy at the guest house dubbed it Sloth Town -- after the cuddly vegetarians known for their gentle demeanor and movements akin to that of molasses in January.

A young sloth.  

To beat the tropical sun, I took the boat back downriver at 0700.  This trip would be faster, less than two hours because we were going with the current this time. 

Once again, I intended to take photos en route, had my camera out and ready.  Amazingly, the same thing happened -- somewhere in the aforementioned zone I zonked out.  The next thing that I knew we were approaching Leticia harbor!  The camera hung in mid-air, dangling from the strap around my wrist -- unused once again.  A whole hour or so had disappeared, was missing from my memory!

This time I didn't fall sleep, as such.  I'm certain of that.  More like I slipped away somewhere, somewhere nice.  I came to smiling, content...as if I'd been to my Happy Place.

Disembarking in Leticia, I was shaking my head at the strangeness of it and muttering, "Boy, this is weird...real weird."

The channel leading into Leticia harbor.

With my time in the Amazon thus ended, I flew back to Medellin a day later.  For the record, never during that three-hour flight did I doze off and lose track of time.  The reason, the main one?  My mind kept running, often echoing of tv and film writer Rod Serling...

As he might have put it -- had I really just visited a quiet little town along the upper Amazon or had I blundered onto a far off outpost of the The Twilight Zone?  After mulling it over, I dared to think that it was some of both.  

Whatever the the trip to Puerto Nariño was or was not, the Amazon overall, the eleven days that I was there, was one heckuva an experience.

End Of Series On The Amazon