The pampas is huge. Large tracts of waist-high grass, punctuated by a few mudpools/lakes, and clumps of trees. In the middle of the rainy season, the entire area is flooded, and becomes one big lake. We see loads of crab shells, and holes occupied by little toads. We also see random birds (including 2 parakeets overhead), and capybara.
B4 we entered a clump of trees, the guide warns us to reapply repellent. Muchos mosquitoes. And it's true. Everyone soon attracted their own little swarm. Thank God for repellent. Our guide was looking out for snakes on the trees, and 5mins later started acting like a commando in the movies-- crouched low, eyes fixated on the tree branch, urgent hand signals for us to stay back and keep quiet... He gingerly approached the tree, then grabbed an anaconda off the tree branch and knocked it onto the ground! After a brief tussle with the snake (enthusiastically aided by the Israelis), he had the anaconda by its head and body. Thus began the slew of trophy picture taking. I am embarrassed to admit that I was a participant in this. The poor snake must have been scared outta its mind, because it started defecating like crazy. When it was my turn to hold the snake, I was surprised by its slight sliminess (prob cos of the poo), and its weight (quite heavy, although it was only ard 2m). I was very happy to pass him over to the next guy. Anacondas are safer on land than in water, where they can move extremely rapidly. Snakes over 5m long can kill a man by asphyxiation.
After everyone who wanted to got to hold the snake, our guide released it, then taught us to use random leaves to clean our hands. Snake-poo cologne is very out of fashion.
We tramped around some more in the pampas, and visited a large lake (Lago Mina), which had many fish and alligators. We couldn't really see the alligators, but we knew they were there cos the fish were constantly jumping up from the water. The guys spotted a dead catfish that washed up on the shore, and the guide showed us an alligator bite-mark on its underbelly-- the likely cause of its death.
Walking back from the lake, our guide pointed out artifacts of interest-- molted cobra skin, a wasp nest, angsana fruit... Then, a whispered shout from one of the guys-- they had found a cobra under a tree! Our guide did his commando thing again, then lunged for the cobra's tail! He just missed, and the cobra slithered away at top speed. Undeterred, the guide dashed after the snake, and both did their best to beat the world record for the 100m sprint across rainforest undergrowth.
We also gave chase, and when we caught up to them, the guide had both hands on the cobra's tail, but the rest of the snake had burrowed under a large fallen log. The guide yelled frantically for one of the guys to poke the snake out from the other side of the log, but our groupmates were sadly lacking in snake-poking techniques. In the end, one of the guys took over tail-holding duty, while our guide demonstrated his impressive thrust, parry and counter thrust with a handy branch. The snake did a rapid about-turn, and after more tussling (including very impressive rearing of the cobra's hood), our guide emerged triumphant.
Again, I felt really guilty. Here was a cobra, innocently going about its business, not at all deserving of these indignities. But um. now that we have it immobilized, surely I should take a trophy picture?
Holding the cobra was much more pleasant than holding the anaconda. It was smooth, not scaly like the Ancda, and also did not smell like poo. The guide said that once cobras are captured, they become limp and play dead, waiting for their chance to escape.
The rest of the day was not as eventful. We returned from our hike feeling very VERY hot, sweaty, and grimy. The guys without repellent were in terrible shape. After lunch we went looking for dolphins, but only got close enough to hear and see jets of water from their blowholes. One of the guys had a desperate longing to swim with (and perhaps on) a dolphin, and promptly dived into the water whenever we saw them nearby. But no amount of agitation of the water surface (mimicking the sound of fish jumping), or plaintive calls of 'dolphin, dolphin..' could attract them. I saw an Amazon river dolphin at the aquarium in SF. They look like smaller, wrinkler versions of ocean dolphins. The amazon rivers used to run north to south, and the dolphins were from the pacific ocean. Then tectonic activity gave rise to the Andes mountains, reversing the direction of the rivers, and trapping the dolphins. Although why the dolphins didn't then swim north and escape into the Caribbean was a question not addressed in wikipedia... =X
We also tried to fish for pirahna, but were fairly unsuccessful. Our guide caught a few catfish, though.
After sunset, we went looking for alligator eyes. With the light from a reasonably strong torch, alligator eyes glow red at night. They look scary and evil. Since the river bank harbored multiple pockets of lurking gators, motoring down the river at night is a scene I expect to see in a S.American horror movie in the near future.
Our guide spotted a baby gator, motored into the marsh, and grabbed it. More trophy pictures. But it was very docile, and actually kinda cute. I dunno how our guide could tell the size of the gator just by seeing the evil red eyes. but i'm sure natural selection will only allow the smart guides to survive... This delightful specimen is about 2 yrs old. Mother gators stay with their brood for 1 year, after which the babies are left to fend for themselves.
