Week 1. 20:10 on Tr 9 May 2019. Parque Ambue Ari, Beni province, Bolivia
How to put my sweat levels in the jungle into perspective? Take this line from last night’s journal entry:
“I’m sweating so much that I can’t write for long. My headlamp is illuminating drops of moisture on my hand, and sweat is moistening this page.”
Apart from my week-long bike trips on PALM (Pedal Across Lower Michigan), this may be the only week of my life when I’ve showered every single day. If you are Kevin or McKenzie, you know what I’m sweating off; if not, don’t worry about it. Here I’ve wanted a cold shower at least twice a day, but that’s not a rational option. Showering mid-day would just be a tease. Recognizing how much I sweat is easy when I wipe it off my face with my sleeve and then find myself wiping again less than a minute later. It’s that bad. The promise of a cold shower in the evening absolutely helps me get through the day; the shower’s very much in the running for best friend status.
My blood was not made for this environment; my blood runs ½ Finnish, ¼ German, 1/16 Native American, some English, and the rest mutt. Apparently these tropical mosquitoes needed some northern blood to round out their diets, because despite the wet (mosquito) season being over, I’ve donated far more blood than is okay. Any day now those buggers can get out of here. Perhaps this is payback for skipping out on Alaskan mosquitoes while enjoying life in the Bering Sea for the past four summers?
At least I’m not alone in my discomfort. All 40 of the people I’ve been with here are covered with red welts of mosquito bites. To save the wildlife from chemical exposure, we’re not allowed to wear mosquito repellent, so we’re sitting ducks. Even though I tell myself not to scratch, it’s a losing battle.
At the moment I’m in – actually, on – the safety of my bed. Two nights ago I finally taped the two big holes in the mosquito netting around my bed. Now any mosquitoes are kept at a distance so I can sleep in peace – except for the fact that it’s always so warm that I can’t wear anything or sleep under anything more than a loose sheet. Usually it’s the middle of the night when I half-wake and realize I want the sheet over me.
Living here is an experience that’s proving my cold tolerance is so much higher than my heat tolerance. Give me beautiful snow and frostnip-inducing cold any day.
Please. As in right now.
Just kidding. Since I’m sweat-free, this evening’s actually rather comfortable.