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Once on the water, we could see the rainforest pushing close to the river. The town of Coca, a depot on Ecuador’s Rio Napo, was already slipping away, disappearing behind a bend. It was early morning. There had been a week of heavy rain and trees had fallen into the river as the bank washed away. With the pressure of the current, branches emerged from the brown water and waved up and down, as if saying goodbye. Older branches, now blackened and leafless, broke the surface and then silently disappeared.

After an hour, we began to see wildlife: toucans and parrots, movements in the trees that suggested monkeys. On one log, I spotted four turtles sitting in a row, each with a butterfly on its head. (I took this as a sign, an offering; it turned out to be the standard post-card image from the Napo valley.) I had been on the lookout for caiman, fresh water alligators, which entertained our guides — sharp-nosed men who grew up along this river. The men were from one of the local tribes, most likely Huaorani, Kichwa, or Shuar. They wore t-shirts and baseball caps.
More… “In Search of Yasuní”

David Bartholomae is Professor Emeritus of English at the University of Pittsburgh, where he held the Charles Crow Chair of Expository Writing. In 1982, he was a Fulbright Lecturer in American literature at the Universidad de Deusto in Bilbao, Spain. With his family, he returned to Deusto regularly as a Visiting Professor. He retired from teaching in Fall, 2018, and spends part of each year in the north of Spain. His current project is a collection of essays with the working title, Like What We Imagine Knowledge to Be.

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