Jungle Jeopardy
(An article I wrote for a travel magazine. The unwritten sequel involved a major blowup, WW making Naomi Campbell look like Pollyanna and the death of a friendship. Moral of the story? Sometimes love just ain't enough.)
If you have spent a good part of your life sashaying down paved sidewalks and shiny shopping mall corridors, then you have no business tramping about in an unknown jungle without a guide, in bad light and with three other city slickers. Any fool would have known that. But we weren’t fools. We were optimists. And not just any optimists, but optimists gripped by a recklessness that only a holiday can drum up.
The motley crew consisted of WW, GS, SB and yours truly. We coated ourselves in mosquito repellant and assembled at the edge of the jungle, brimming with undisguised enthusiasm and well-concealed nervousness. Before setting off, we gave the jungle rules a once-over.
1. No plucking or snapping anything (unless it attacks you)
2. No littering
3. Stay together all the time
4. No lingering
5. No poking fun at any flora or fauna
It’s true what they say about people only remembering the first and last items on a list. It took all of five minutes for WW to break Rule #2. Assuming leadership position, she marched ahead in great strides leaving a faint trail of perfume for us to follow. GS scurried behind, shouting at her to slow down and bravely trying to keep up despite her bad leg. SB and I trudged at the back, eyes to the ground and muttering about ‘over-exertion’. When we looked up next, both our comrades had disappeared from sight. We stopped and pricked our ears. From beyond the lush fronds, we could hear GS still yelling her head off. But this time, her tone was panicked instead of exasperated. Suddenly she burst out of the greenness, wild-eyed and breathless. WW was gone.
Since WW is more a The Simple Life than a Fear Factor person, we didn’t worry about her plunging into the depths of wilderness. But after our search and rescue mission stretched past fifteen minutes, we were forced to face the startling possibility that she may have done exactly that.
So we put on our Adrian Monk hats and began retracing our steps. We explored every single fork in the trail, eliminating all those that involved climbing or wading. We kept our eyes peeled for signs – ANY signs – that indicated she may have passed through that area. And we abandoned the golden rule of never shouting a person’s real name in a jungle. According to a bunch of old wives, if the orang bunian (little people of the jungle) know your real name, they will mimic a friend’s voice to lead you into peril.
After 45-minutes, we were stumbling along on a wing and a prayer. Our feet ached, our throats were sore and our eyes strung. To top it off, the evening sun had begun casting warning shadows around us. Then, as it usually happens in the last 30 minutes of a movie, we suddenly stumbled upon the trail. Energised by this unexpected discovery we surged forward, confident that WW would be waiting with folded arms and a tapping foot at the other end. We were wrong.
Hope turned into fatigue and we were faced with the inevitable choices - continue searching and risk getting lost in the jungle at night or returning to camp (ie. wooden chalets) to keep vigil. We went with the second choice.
We got back just as twilight dropped its curtain. As the chalets came into sight, we saw something that made us stop in our tracks. A light shone bright in WW’s chalet. We pounded on the door and WW flung it open, squeaky clean and wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe with a matching towel around her head. Her story? She had waited for us to catch up, got scared and trotted back to camp.
Today, we can laugh about it. But that incident nudged me to review our jungle rules and make some minor amendments.
1. No plucking or snapping anything, unless you have to throw it at a Road Runner in front of you.
2. No littering, unless you’ve resorted to Hansel’s plan.
3. Stay together all the time, I repeat ALL THE TIME.
4. No lingering, unless you’re waiting for a comrade or the search and rescue team.
5. No poking fun at any flora, fauna or a slow comrade.
6. NO UNDERESTIMATING THE GREAT OUTDOORS!
If you have spent a good part of your life sashaying down paved sidewalks and shiny shopping mall corridors, then you have no business tramping about in an unknown jungle without a guide, in bad light and with three other city slickers. Any fool would have known that. But we weren’t fools. We were optimists. And not just any optimists, but optimists gripped by a recklessness that only a holiday can drum up.
The motley crew consisted of WW, GS, SB and yours truly. We coated ourselves in mosquito repellant and assembled at the edge of the jungle, brimming with undisguised enthusiasm and well-concealed nervousness. Before setting off, we gave the jungle rules a once-over.
1. No plucking or snapping anything (unless it attacks you)
2. No littering
3. Stay together all the time
4. No lingering
5. No poking fun at any flora or fauna
It’s true what they say about people only remembering the first and last items on a list. It took all of five minutes for WW to break Rule #2. Assuming leadership position, she marched ahead in great strides leaving a faint trail of perfume for us to follow. GS scurried behind, shouting at her to slow down and bravely trying to keep up despite her bad leg. SB and I trudged at the back, eyes to the ground and muttering about ‘over-exertion’. When we looked up next, both our comrades had disappeared from sight. We stopped and pricked our ears. From beyond the lush fronds, we could hear GS still yelling her head off. But this time, her tone was panicked instead of exasperated. Suddenly she burst out of the greenness, wild-eyed and breathless. WW was gone.
Since WW is more a The Simple Life than a Fear Factor person, we didn’t worry about her plunging into the depths of wilderness. But after our search and rescue mission stretched past fifteen minutes, we were forced to face the startling possibility that she may have done exactly that.
So we put on our Adrian Monk hats and began retracing our steps. We explored every single fork in the trail, eliminating all those that involved climbing or wading. We kept our eyes peeled for signs – ANY signs – that indicated she may have passed through that area. And we abandoned the golden rule of never shouting a person’s real name in a jungle. According to a bunch of old wives, if the orang bunian (little people of the jungle) know your real name, they will mimic a friend’s voice to lead you into peril.
After 45-minutes, we were stumbling along on a wing and a prayer. Our feet ached, our throats were sore and our eyes strung. To top it off, the evening sun had begun casting warning shadows around us. Then, as it usually happens in the last 30 minutes of a movie, we suddenly stumbled upon the trail. Energised by this unexpected discovery we surged forward, confident that WW would be waiting with folded arms and a tapping foot at the other end. We were wrong.
Hope turned into fatigue and we were faced with the inevitable choices - continue searching and risk getting lost in the jungle at night or returning to camp (ie. wooden chalets) to keep vigil. We went with the second choice.
We got back just as twilight dropped its curtain. As the chalets came into sight, we saw something that made us stop in our tracks. A light shone bright in WW’s chalet. We pounded on the door and WW flung it open, squeaky clean and wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe with a matching towel around her head. Her story? She had waited for us to catch up, got scared and trotted back to camp.
Today, we can laugh about it. But that incident nudged me to review our jungle rules and make some minor amendments.
1. No plucking or snapping anything, unless you have to throw it at a Road Runner in front of you.
2. No littering, unless you’ve resorted to Hansel’s plan.
3. Stay together all the time, I repeat ALL THE TIME.
4. No lingering, unless you’re waiting for a comrade or the search and rescue team.
5. No poking fun at any flora, fauna or a slow comrade.
6. NO UNDERESTIMATING THE GREAT OUTDOORS!
posted by starlight at 6:25 PM
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