I just want to share with you a few bizarre moments I never got round to writing about before that suddenly made me stop and think 'how the hell did I end up here?'.The first one came when I first visited the Afro community of Playa de Oro, one of the communities we work with to help develop their tourism enterprise. I had visited a few other communities before, but only for a few hours and with others from Kumanii, so this was the first time I was going to stay with them, and alone. I happened to choose mothers day of all the days to arrive, which, unlike the UK, is a massive party in Ecuador, and was also a Sunday which, I had been warned, is the final day of a 3 day weekly party (otherwise known as a weekend in the jungle).So, as I stepped off the wooden canoe onto the shore of the small community that have been living a fairly self sustaining life deep in the jungle for hundreds of years, I was greeted to the not-totally-expected sound of booming reggaeton coming from the other side of the village square. No sooner had I taken that in, I was approached by a guy with the biggest smile on his face, wild bloodshot eyes and very wobbly legs. It turned out to be the president of the community, and he whisked me straight into their makeshift salsateca for some jungle party action. Suddenly I had half the town wanting to be my best friend, found the petrol like Frontera (local drink of choice) thrust into my hands by a guy with a demented grin (related to the Frontera no doubt) and was forced to dance dance after dance with half the towns female population. Now, Id been up since 4 and travelling for 12 hours, and had never in my life spent any time with a jungle community. Its fair to say I was totally spun out, and more than a little scared. 'How the f**** did I end up here? ' was certainly the thought that crossed my mind between mouthfuls of Frontera and attempts to appease their desire to see the white man dance like an afro!A few weeks later I went to another community nearby, with the aim of confirming reports that there is a walk able trail between Wimbi (where I was) and Playa de Oro (where I was initiated into the jungle), since it could make a great excursion option for tourists (if we ever get any). Two locals guys, Vicky (another volunteer) and I set off early one sunny morning, paddled upriver and set off through the forest on a pretty stunning trek through almost untouched forest. I say almost, because the reason there is a trail there at all is because it is used by both communities as a hunting route. The result is that, while the forest so far is well conserved, save the occasional mining camp in search of gold that shouldn't be there, the animal life in the area is a little limited. Anyway, we had a 5 hour walk ahead of us, and about 5 rivers to cross. The first two were knee deep crossings, which of course hardly made the locals break a stride, but left Vicky and I scrabbling for balance on the rocky bottom. Then it started to rain. Hard. And rainforest rain means a rapid increase in river levels. You know things might be a little problematic when even the locals (who never break a sweat over anything) start lambasting us for being so slow. The third river was waist high, and the 4th barely crossable. It was a one-at-a-time, bags-on-heads, both-guys-holding-us upright moment for Vicky and I.We made it, but that left one river to go. When we arrived it had stopped raining, but the river was basically a raging a beast. We waited half an hour umming and ahhing, but there was no chance of crossing. Just as Vicky and I were starting to mentally calculate our chances of survival in the jungle for a night, we noticed the guys had disappeared. They came back 10 mins later armed with huge bamboo poles. A quick machete job, some vines, and with a bit of old rope they happened to have, we suddenly had our very own raft, which almost seaworthy. It suddenly struck me just how resourceful these people are. They may not be able to read or write much, but damn can they build a good raft out of nothing. So on we hopped and across we paddled to safety. And as we nearly capsized I distinctly remember thinking 'How the hell did I end up in the middle of the jungle (where no gringo has ever stepped foot), paddling across a raging river on a makeshift raft? But we made it, and better still, it turned out that the boat wasn't all bamboo, but partly made of sugarcane. So when we had got to the other side we took enormous pleasure in eating our vessel (we had definitely overrun lunchtime after all).About two weeks ago I found myself back in Wimbi: I had promised to come back for their anniversary party (5th June). My journey there was memorable in itself: its not often you share your bus with a live squealing pig destined to become centre piece of the party. This time I was fully prepared for drunken Frontera antics and lots of dancing, but definitely was not ready for what ensued on the first afternoon.The anniversary celebrations kick off every year with the 'prago', the children's parade. I was expecting some kind of traditional dancing, costumes, singing or whatever, but instead got the most incredible juxtaposition that two colliding worlds, the western and the jungle, can offer: a miss world competition. The girls (aged 3 to 10) were all dressed up in tiny florescent bikinis, painted in bright florescent colours, and had sashes announcing Miss Chile, or Miss Brazil, for example. Not only did they all have to prance down the catwalk, but they also marched around the town to the beats of an drum, led by two young boys representing fishermen and?..me, representing the fish they had caught! Don't ask me how, but I suddenly found myself wrapped in a net and told to walk forwards by the fishermen. At least I wasn't alone: Vicky was thrown into a grass skirt (the only 'traditional' looking costume) and told to follow behind. As the people lining the streets clapped, laughed and stared in equal portions, I was definitely to be found thinking 'how on earth did I end up wrapped in a net leading a parade of florescent painted, bikini clad kids through the streets of a jungle community? Answers on a postcard please, I still haven't worked that one out.So those are the moments I wanted to share with you. Hope they amuse you as much as they did me! I also have a lot of newsy stuff worth writing about, so that will go in the next blog, which Ill try and motivate myself to write soon.Much love from my increasingly crazy world.