It's A Jungle Out There... Or JUGS In The Amazon

"One, two, three - jump!"
Ready?
Again: one, two, three ... Jump!"

I'm sitting on a wooden ledge 200 feet above the canopy of the Amazon Jungle and my 24-year-old guide Nellie is urging me to jump and zip across the tree line.

Nellie doesn't know that I'm afraid of heights or that my ass is suddenly frozen on the ledge.

"Do you want a push," Nellie asks. "No," I say. "Just give me a moment."

"You can do it Mare," my JUGS pals Nancy and Maggie shout to me from the platform below.

I'm sweating profusely, from the heat and the height.

Here I am again on a ledge, up high and out of my comfort zone. Funny how that keeps happening. Do you notice a pattern here?

Three deep breaths (thank you Ernesto for the tip) and I push off from the ledge and swoosh across the tree line. The first moment is always the worst and before you know it you're back on your feet again. Another conquest. I've faced my fear once again.

Nothing is comfortable about the Amazon. The temperature is sweltering. The humidity is thick. The low buzzing hum of Mosquitos, Bees, Wasps and Yellow Jackets is a chorus that follows you wherever you go. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

"Whose idea was this anyway?" - an echoing question that has followed us the last nine days on our adventures.

This one's on our pal Nancy, who has more stamps on her passport than all of us put together. Unbeknownst to us, the Amazon is on Nancy's bucket list. Nancy sold us on the jungle expedition and the Tahuayo Lodge saying it was the highest rated eco lodge in the region. Our discovery? "Eco" seems to be synonymous with "rustic."

Nancy has been apologizing ever since we arrived. Like stages of grief, we all went through moments of silence, suppressed anger and reconciliation as we came to terms with our basic living conditions here. (Everyone except Maggie that is -- who is still growling at Nancy.)

Shades of Private Benjamin. "I did join the army, but I joined a *different* army. I joined the one with the condos and the private rooms," said the cute, ditzy Goldie Hawn in the hit movie of the same name. Translation: We signed up for the Amazon but where's the Four Seasons?

This is a cross between Disneyland's Jungle River Cruise and Indiana Jones. "It's so hot I stick to everything," whines Nancy, who has to be discreet about her discomforts since this was HER idea. No sympathy for Nancy in this group. How much can you talk about humidity and sweat anyway? Apparently a lot. This must be what it's like to live in Florida.

We are suburban chicks in the jungle. We have all the perfect trappings of women who went on a mad REI shopping spree. Natalie, Nellie and Carolina, our twenty-something guides who wear jeans, t-shirts and capris for our jungle treks, quietly giggle with each day's parade of Columbia shirts, hats, vests and shoes. Ok so we look like an ad for a safari. Maybe we're a little geared up.

In spite of ourselves and the heat, we've slowly been able to shift our perspectives to see what is before us. Amazing. Rustic. Simple. Bio-diverse. Hot. Interconnected. Vast. Profound. These are some of the words we have used to describe the rainforest. Make no mistake: We're all uncomfortable about SOMETHING. Whether it's the heat, the bugs, the bats, the snakes or the primitive conditions of the lodge.

Our willingness to set aside our discomforts, however, is what's allowing us to embrace what is turning out to be an otherwise rich experience. In these moments we have found magic. Thus far, we have been blessed by a Shaman (Pashquita), an 80-something medicine woman who lives alone on the banks of the Amazon and heals locals with potions, herbs and White magic.

We have seen hawks, Macaws, Pigmy Marmosets, Red Titi Monkeys and Owl Monkeys. White- Grey Necked Herrings. Long Nose Bats. We've fished for Piranhas (but luckily didn't catch any.) We've zipped lined. And we met Dorilla, a Wooly Monkey who lives on the river across from the village of San Pedro. Dorilla is a local celebrity who was rescued from black market poachers in Iquitos years ago. She used to live at the lodge until her monkey antics became too much. She is a sweet spirit and hand feeding her bananas was a thrill.

We've tromped through the jungle and learned about the amazing interconnectedness of the trees, vegetation and species. We listened to the incredible sounds of a thunder storm in the rain forest. We even saw Pink Dolphins. Who knew fresh water dolphins existed in the Amazon? What a surprise.

God -- or whatever higher power out there that designed this place -- sure knew what she was doing when she put this jungle together. The synchronicity of it all is poetry in motion. From the parakeets that birth their young inside a termite nest to the symphony of sounds of all the jungle species that sing day and night. Waking up in the morning to the melodies of the jungle beats any Disney movie soundtrack. This is Mother Nature's work of art.

In a few short days we have come to see the jungle through our guides' eyes. This is their world but they recognize the connection and importance of it to our world. What it means to all humanity. They have also shown us that people can be genuinely happy with less. Simple is better than complicated. Less is more. Basics are the foundation for what really matters. Those of us who live in the "modern" world could certainly take a cue from this. We make the unimportant important.

The Amazon has challenged us. It has tested our comfort zones. It has urged us to look at our fears and priorities. It has given us the gift of awareness. We come away from this magical place with a heightened understanding of our connection to it, our connection to one another and its importance to Mother Earth. No movie, no book, no story can do this wonder of the world justice. What a privilege it has been to be here.