RÍO NEGRO, Venezuela.— On traveling to the distant Amazon jungle, you don’t know exactly when you will arrive, or return for that matter.
If you don’t like the sound of traveling by river for days, the only other options are occasional flights by military planes or small aircrafts operated by the so-called Group Nine; a fleet of Cessna planes, created by the Bolivarian government to respond to emergencies and provide free transportation in exceptional cases.
This is how the Cuban doctors travel to and from the remote places where they live and work for months on end, surrounded by dense mountains, the unfamiliar sound of different languages, new foods offered to them on arrival in an indigenous village, traditions, people, and growing nostalgia for their beloved Cuba.
This is why every so often they come to Puerto Ayacucho, to rest for a few days and take in a few breaths of city life, with its tarmac roads, and built up urban areas, while they also take the opportunity to stock up on essential provisions which don’t exist in the jungle.
We wait several days for the military plane, until finally we hear the Colonel, head of the air support team, shout “Tomorrow we’re flying back to Río Negro. Please arrive at the base early.”
Recalling a mental image of a map of the Amazon, the excitement increases when we find out exactly where we are headed, the farthest of the three possible destinations: a long trip, almost two hours by airplane, to San Carlos de Río Negro, in Venezuela's southern-most region, close to the border with Colombia and Brazil.
“It’s a ‘Caravan,’ what a relief,” sighs Marilia González, a doctor from Ciego de Avila, back in the Amazon having returned from vacation in Cuba.
“The ‘wayumis’ scare me too much. They move a lot in the air, like paper planes, and my size and the narrowness of the plane, make it even worse,” states González, considering the amount of luggage and somewhat heavier frame she retuned with from the island. “I couldn’t stop eating. Also, I don’t know how long it's going to take in there, so I ate everything, even my reserves,” she jokes in that typically Cuban way.
The so-called wayumis (in reference to the Wayuu people, from the west of Zulia) are small, four-seat aircrafts, including the pilot; while Cáravans are medium size planes able to seat ten people, with a three-person crew and hold area for luggage.
And it's right there in the hold where Juan Carlos and Eduardo - two Cubans responsible for sourcing food and whatever other provisions the Cuban collaborators might need in the jungle - are loading the craft with goods brought for those working in Río Negro.
“The problem has been going on for two months. The situation is bad, everything is expensive or hard to get hold of. The damned economic war has forced everyone to tighten their belts, but the doctors keep working out there. You’ve got to continue scraping together anything you can for them. They are heroes,” states Juan Carlos.
As the propeller on the nose of the aircraft starts to turn, and the engine beings to roar, anticipation of the unknown adventure ahead starts to give some butterflies.
As we set off, the pilot, a Major in the Air Force, and a man of many years experience, crosses himself –alarming some of the passengers.
As the plane makes its way down the runway, the young co-pilot, seemingly in training, turns and asks: “Are you Cuban too?”
When I tell him that I am, he gives me a happy thumbs up. “I studied in Cuba, at the Technical Military Institute of Havana. If I’m here it's because of you (Cubans) as well. It’s a pleasure to serve you.”
The words of Lieutenant Acosta generate such a great sense of pride that it gives me goose bumps. Gratitude is a beautiful feeling.
The plane starts to speed up and the runway is the last tarmac we see. Once in the air, the Orinoco River appears below, dotted with large rocks exposed due to a long period of drought, and a vast carpet of green on the horizon.
Just beyond lies the heart of the Amazon jungle, the Río Negro, with hope safely placed in the hands of brave Cuban medical professionals. And that’s where we are headed.
