The Pick-up Truck to Puyo

From Tena, capital of the jungle province of Napo, you can get to Puyo, capital of the more southerly jungle province of Pastaza, in two and a half hours by bus. If there are no buses running, as was the case when I traveled there recently, you can hop in the cab of a pick truck which will take you over a rutted, dusty, rock-strewn, unpaved road and get there in about one and a half or two hours, depending on how much confidence the driver has in his truck’s shocks. Or if you are particularly desperate, you can hop in the back of the truck, squeezed in with other people, electronic equipment, miscellaneous bags, and a spare tire, and hold on for dear life. Unwittingly, that’s what I chose to do.

I had scheduled a meeting in Puyo with a French pharmacist who had spent the last 20 years working with indigenous communities and creating a formidable practice in medicinal plants. I’d already postponed the trip once because of protests against the Andean Free Trade Agreement that the Ecuadorian government was negotiating with the U.S. Puyo had been virtually shut down, so the first day things were almost back to normal I jumped on the chance to make the journey.

After waiting for a half an hour for a bus I was told would come, a pick up with 5 grown men in the cab, 4 in the truck bed, a woman, two children, and the aforementioned electronics rolled up and offered me a ride. I jumped in and literally perched on the narrow rim of the bed like the others. A couple of people in the back got out within the first fifteen minutes, giving us a little more room, but the TVs and stereo speakers took up most of the floor space. At about that point the road, which had been partly paved, turned to dirt, and the driver hit the accelerator. Every 20 seconds or so my tailbone jammed into the metal rim, and I had to keep adjusting my grip to keep from falling backwards out of the truck. And every 20 seconds I glared at the driver and the guys sitting inside, though of course if I’d had an upholstered bench to sit on, I wouldn’t have given it up either. First come, first served.

Fearing I’d have lifelong spinal injuries if I stayed in that position, I stood on the spare tire and held on to the rail above the cab. Standing was much better on my back because my boots absorbed the shock of the road, and I just had to hold on tight to the rail. Meanwhile, a couple also sitting in the back grasped each other, both out of affection and for safety. The I realized that the woman held a beautiful green parakeet in the cuff of her shirt. She and the man handed it back and forth while they hugged and tried to reposition themselves.

Meanwhile, the two kids, whom someone had thoughtfully allowed to sit in the cab, got car sick. The driver stopped and promptly handed them to the couple, their parents, who began the repositioning all over, passing the bird, folding the kids into their laps. Practically before the driver started the engine, the two boys were limp and asleep. We tore out on to the dirt road again and soon pulled over for no apparent reason. One of the men got out, so I assumed we’d arrived at his stop. But then all of the men and one of the boys got out too, leaving me, the other woman, the youngest boy, and the bird. They surrounded the truck with their backs to us and their legs spread, and then came the sound of rushing water. It always disgusts me when I see men urinating in plain view, but this was the first time I’d seen a virtual chorus line of men peeing in the dirt. I actually laughed out loud, but I doubt anyone could hear me over the noise.

By the time we hit the road again, I was already sick of the truck ride, and it had only been about an hour. I was covered in dirt and my hands were red and sore. We hit top speeds, the road worsened, and small stones began hitting my face. I had the macabre, but probably accurate, thought that I could lose an eye. And then what would I do? But by that point I realized there were no buses running to Puyo that day, and since I was already half way there, I should just suck it up.

An hour later we rolled onto paved road and I was thrilled to see stoplights and gas stations. I jumped out at my stop, which was the first in town, and waited patiently for the French pharmacist to pick me up. He soon drove up in a white pick up with a gloriously spacious cab, and we rode off in comort to visit his medicinal garden.