Getting Ready for the Rain Forest

On Monday I hired a panga, more or less a motorized rowboat, to take me downriver to the Indio-Maize Rain Forest Reserve. It was a short 15 minute ride. East of El Castillo the southern shores of the San Juan River become Costa Rican territory. Interestingly enough, due to a 19th Century treaty, the river itself is entirely Nicaraguan territory. This oddity has sparked some tension between the two nations as of late, and Nicaraguans are quite touch about the issue. Considering, however, that Costa Rica disbanded its military in 1948, I can't imagine that things will get too heady.

Nicaragua, though, wasn't taking any chances. As my boat pulled into the reserve's ranger station, I took n9ote of the army barracks on the shore. After my credentials were checked I was directed to the resort, which consisted of four cabins, each with two rooms. As I made my way through the resort, I didn't see anyone else. I shouted a few Spanish greetings, but no one answered. The whole area looked abandoned.

I set my pack down (who was going to steal it?) and made my way to the back of the property. I heard some women talking, and I followed the voices to a small kitchen. I said "hola" and all three women jumped in surprise. I explained that I wanted to stay the night, and they started making preparations.

The head woman, who I assume was the manager, asked why I hadn't made reservations. Rather than ask her what possibly made her think I needed them, I instead told her that I had tried to call the resort the day before without success. She explained that the resort's phone service went out during when it rained. Seeing that we were in fact in a rain forest in the rainy season, I took this to mean that they pretty much didn't have phone service, at least not for the next few months.

All was well, however, as there clearly wasn't much competition for the rooms. I was the only guest of the lodge. I made arrangements for a guide for a hike that morning. As the stafff set everything up I laid back in a hammock next to the river, perusing a copy of Scientific American a prior guest had been kind enough to leave behind.