Pink Boots and a Machete by Mireya Mayor Page A

my backpack and nestle in my long, tangled, wet hair. It was not easy digging them out. Leafcutter ants cut highways through the backs and tongues of my boots left on the ground overnight. A vampire bat took a chomp at my foot hanging off the hammock during sleep, and mosquitoes had a field day on wrists and ankles that rubbed too close to the mosquito net. Somehow they made it under the net, too, and most of the night I was killing them and checking for spiders. I quickly learned that mosquitoes actually love deet. Though I can’t prove it, I think deet makes them stronger.
    We were starting to run out of food, and morale was sinking, so we decided to seek a village to restock our dwindling supplies. We found a lovely elderly Guyanese couple living on the river’s edge who seemed more than happy, eager even, to have us stop. Given how remote the area was, I suspected they didn’t get many visitors. As a city girl, I could see the appeal of living far from the masses under the tall forest canopy, with only the sounds of birds, frogs, and monkeys. This had to be one of Earth’s last remaining paradises, recalling places written about by 19th-century explorers. No roads at all. At night nothing but stars and the pale light cast by the moon. It was surreal. The couple had created a beautiful floating garden that I hoped to emulate someday when I got back to civilization—whatever that meant. They stuffed us with papaya and delicious pink juice made from a local fruit I had never heard of, and told us stories about saki monkeys. I would have gotten more excited had our first sighting not been in their pot.
    We spent two days there, resting and taking refuge from the rains, and then it was time to push on. We traded some of my batteries and a lighter for papaya, the mystery fruit, and condiments. As I looked back, the couple stood waving, and I was sure there was a tear in the woman’s eye. I knew exactly how she felt. For two days the place was magical, but I don’t think I could have lasted there very long. The only buzz in these parts came from bees.
    Another day passed, and we continued on our journey to find the rare monkeys. At that point I wanted to proclaimall monkeys in Guyana, except howlers, extinct. And then for the first time…SAKI MONKEYS! I screamed, “Look, sakis!” Dr. Handsome asked where. “There! In that tall tree!” I took a GPS reading, jotted our sighting in my waterproof notebook with my waterproof pen, and followed the creatures until the sun went down.
    I was officially a scientist.
    As we were drifting to sleep that night, we heard loud splashing in the direction of our boat. I stumbled to turn on my headlamp and prayed it was not a port knocker who had found us. I saw not one but two intruders. Inside our canoe, a couple of very large, curious river otters were playing with our gear. They jumped out at the sight of my light. It made an already good day perfect.
    Feeling optimistic and reenergized, we continued our search. Along the river’s edge, we spotted sakis again. But what were they doing in a group? These were supposed to be monogamous creatures, their units consisting of only male, female, and offspring. Monogamy had disappointed me once again. I came to realize later that this was a very interesting finding, indeed, and that it had recently been written up in a scientific journal.
    We spent a few weeks hacking through thick forest, following the animals as best we could. I was no longer as terrified of tarantulas as the first time one perched on my backpack, though I still scoured the forest floor with my light at night. My eyebrow tweezers, which had been ridiculed by my colleagues, got new respect as the favorite toolfor removing ticks and leeches from hard-to-reach areas. I learned that, in addition to the havoc wreaked by leafcutter ants, leaving boots out overnight was a very bad idea because of all the things that could crawl inside,