Lost Tourist Says Monkeys Saved Him in the Amazon

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Lost Tourist Survives Nine Days in the Jungle, Says Monkeys Helped

| EXCLUSIVE |
Lost Tourist Says Monkeys Saved Him in the Amazon
Locals believe the young man angered forest spirits—before he disappeared mysteriously for nine days—but he is just glad to be alive.
By Elizabeth Unger
PUBLISHED March 23, 2017
http://news.nationalgeographic.com/2017/03/monkeys-saved-lost-tourist-bolivian-amazon-shamans/

  "RURRENABAQUE, BOLIVIA -- In the Bolivian Amazon, where vast rivers wind
   endlessly through mountainous terrain and a thick blanket of fog creeps
   through the trees, the locals say the jungle can swallow you in a
   second. Venture too far and you may never find your way back.
   
   But for the many tourists who visit Madidi National Park, the crown
   jewel of Bolivia's protected rainforests, an excursion into its depths
   is not so much a danger but an exhilarating prospect. With good reason:
   a roster of tour agencies based out of Rurrenabaque—a small, bustling
   town on the edge of the park—promises safety for those seeking a
   journey into the wild fray.
   
   While Madidi's extreme landscape is not immune from tourist accidents
   or even fatalities, which occur every year, disappearances inside the
   park's borders are rare. There hadn't been a single visitor gone
   missing over the last fifteen years. Until now.
   
   I was with the Madidi National Park rangers when they first received
   word that a 25-year old Chilean man, Maykool Coroseo Acuña, had
   suddenly disappeared within the confines of the park. Vanished by
   mysterious circumstances, they were told.
   
   A witness' murky account, transmitted by radio, said Maykool was last
   seen sitting on the steps of his cabin around 8:30 pm the night before.
   He had been on a rainforest tour with Max Adventures, a local agency,
   and had seemingly disappeared from their campground, without leaving a
   single track behind.
   
   "This is a really strange case for us," Madidi Park Director Marcos
   Uzquiano told me. "We're not sure what happened last night, but we need
   to find out. It's possible that someone may be lying."
   
   For the rangers, Maykool's bizarre disappearance was reminiscent of a
   famous case from 1981, when Israeli tourist Yossi Ghinsberg was
   deceived by a fellow traveler and stranded in the Bolivian rainforest
   for three weeks. His account of deception and survival was turned into
   the international best-seller Back from Tuichi. (Coincidentally, a film
   adaptation of the book starring Daniel Radcliffe, called Jungle, will
   be released later this year).
   
   Similar to Yossi's ordeal more than thirty years ago, Maykool was also
   missing near the Tuichi River, a torrid area accessible only by boat
   and miles away from the closest town.
   
   The rangers, anxious for answers, decided to head out immediately in
   search of Maykool. Accompanying them, I watched Rurrenabaque shrink
   away as we navigated upriver towards the dense jungle landscape, our
   long, wooden boat cutting through the mist.
   
   Hours later, we arrived at the Max Adventures' lodge, a quaint area
   filled by hammocks, a dining patio, and large wooden cabins. The owner
   of the agency, Feizar Nava, warmly greeted our group. In a low, hurried
   voice, he told the rangers what had happened.
   
   STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE
   
   Maykool had signed up for a tour at Max Adventures with other travelers
   he had met the previous day, Feizar began. After the group went into
   the rainforest that afternoon to explore with the guides, Maykool had
   returned to camp acting noticeably excited.
   
   "He was acting a little bit strange," Feizer recounted. "His face just
   didn't look normal."
   
   Keeping tabs on the behavior, Feizar had invited the tourists at the
   lodge to participate in a Pachamama ceremony—a tradition involving coca
   leaves, candles, and cigarettes—to thank Pachamama, or Mother Earth,
   for giving them permission to enter the forest.
   
   When Maykool was asked to join the ceremony alongside the group, he had
   refused, Feizar said. And when a guide had returned to his cabin to
   check on him, he was nowhere to be found. The amount of time that had
   passed between when Maykool was last seen and when someone went back
   for him was only five minutes.
   
   Panicked, Feizar and his guides checked every inch of the lodge.
   Maykool wasn't there. The group headed out into the rainforest with
   flashlights. They searched until five in the morning, to no avail.
   Maykool seemed to have completely vanished.
   
   "It's because he offended the Pachamama." Feizar said. "He didn't want
   to participate in the ceremony."
   
   Marcos and the rest of the rangers murmured together, nodding.
   
   They told me that here, in the lowlands of Bolivia, people view the
   rainforest as a powerful place, filled with mystical entities both good
   and evil. Disrespect Pachamama, for example, and she could let you be
   driven mad by Duende, a mischievous sprite who hides his victims in
   another dimension. Such beliefs among the locals are so palpably
   ingrained that even law enforcement recognizes them.
   
   "For myself and the rangers, this is our culture," Marcos told me. "We
   believe that Duende is real. And we think it's possible that Maykool
   was taken by him."
   
   SHAMANS WAGE A SPIRITUAL WAR
   
   Desperate for help, one of Feizar's guides called two well-known
   shamans, Romulo and his wife Tiburcia, and asked them to bring Maykool
   back. The shamans arrived at the lodge, carrying thick blocks of sugar
   tableaux, cigarettes, cans of beer, coca leaves, wine bottles, candles,
   sparkling confetti, and a large wooden cross—all materials they would
   need to breach the spiritual domain.
   
   They believed that Duende had been harnessing the energy of Mapajo, a
   powerful tree spirit, to hide Maykool. "He's far away, in a place we
   can't reach," the shamans told us. But by completing payments in the
   form of intricate ceremonies, they explained, they would finally be
   able to call Maykool's soul back into this dimension. It would be only
   then that he could be found in the forest.
   
   Maykool's family—his father, step-mother, and sister—also arrived at
   the camp; they had immediately flown in from Chile once they heard the
   news. They were grim, but calm, and began conferring with the rangers
   and the guides on a plan of action. The group decided they would work
   section-by-section, combing multiple kilometers around the lodge by
   walking in a sweeping, horizontal line.
   
   Over the next week, the rangers and guides searched for eight to ten
   hours a day for Maykool, each day in a different section of rainforest.
   Romulo and Tiburcia worked just as hard, staying up until dawn every
   night, making payment after payment to the Pachamama. But no one could
   find the slightest sign of him; it was like he was never there at all.
   
   The guides were growing restless, the family increasingly worried.
   Romulo and Tiburcia were exhausted. The rangers, many of whom were
   experienced trackers, couldn't believe they hadn't found a single shred
   of evidence. "In twenty years, we've never experienced anything like
   this," one told me.
   
   However, six tormenting days after Maykool's disappearance, a
   breakthrough came: one of the rangers found a lone, muddy sock on the
   rainforest floor. When it was taken back to the family, Maykool's
   step-mother emotionally confirmed it was his.
   
   For the shamans, the sock changed everything; it was a window into
   Maykool's soul, a way to reach him on a spiritual plane and call him
   back to reality. But they knew they were running out of time. Maykool
   had already spent a week in the rainforest with very little food or
   water, and they weren't sure how much longer he would be able to
   survive.
   
   After two more sleepless nights praying to the Pachamama, Romulo and
   Tiburcia claimed that their payments had been accepted and they were
   finally able to make contact with Maykool's soul. "The sock made it
   much, much easier for us to reach him," the shamans said. Maykool's
   liberation had begun, they said, and swore we would start finding more
   signs of him in the coming days.
   
   A SURPRISING BREAKTHROUGH
   
   The next morning, the rangers and I were docking at the lodge when we
   heard screams coming from down the river. "Boat! Boat! Hey!" we heard
   faintly. The rangers scrambled, revving up their boat motor and rushing
   towards the cries.
   
   It was two guides from Max Adventures on the edge of the water,
   frantically calling out for help. "We found him!" they screamed. The
   rangers couldn't believe it. "Are you sure? Is he alive or dead?" "No,
   he's alive!" the guides yelled back.
   
   Maykool, after surviving nine days in the rainforest, had finally been
   found—less than a mile away from Max Adventures' campground. Maykool's
   sister Rocío had been searching with Feizar and a few other guides when
   she heard a yell and broke out running. They found Maykool standing in
   the trees, holding a large walking stick.
   
   "I wasn't sure if my brother was going to recognize me," Rocío later
   told me. "I wasn't sure if his mind would be intact."
   
   Maykool had been found in very weak condition; nine days in the
   rainforest had left him dehydrated, his skin ravaged by bites,
   botflies, and spines, his feet and ankles painfully swollen. But his
   mind was working just fine. "I want a Coca Cola," he joked, exhausted.
   
   As Maykool was brought back to camp and tearfully reunited with the
   rest of his family, jubilant cries of "We did it!" rang out, the
   rangers and guides hugging and crying together in celebration. Feizar
   was especially emotional, sobbing as he and Maykool's father embraced.
   
   "Thank you for trusting us. Thank you," Feizar wept. "Why wouldn't I
   trust your whole team?" the father tearfully replied.
   
   Maykool was laid down in a hammock and we all quietly gathered around
   him to listen to his story of survival. He never was able to find the
   river, he told us. Incredibly, he was able to instead survive by
   following a group of monkeys, who dropped him fruit and lead him to
   shelter and water every day.
   
   As time dragged on, though, the elements began to take a toll. The
   mosquitos were eating him alive, he was beginning to starve, and was
   becoming more and more desperate. "Yesterday was when I really made a
   promise to God. And I got on my knees and I asked him with my heart to
   get me out of there," he said, choked up.
   
   Maykool revealed that the night he disappeared, strange, terrible
   thoughts had begun to creep into his mind. He said he had an
   irresistible urge to get out of the rainforest.
   
   "I started running," he said. "I was wearing sandals and I said no,
   they would slow me down. I threw away the sandals, then the cell phone
   and my flashlight. And after running so much, I stopped under a tree
   and I started thinking. What had I done, what was I doing? And when I
   wanted to get back it wasn't possible."
   
   Maykool's rescuers maintain the belief that Duende drove him
   temporarily insane and lured him into another dimension. His behavior
   fits all the signs, they say—the maddening thoughts, the shamans'
   testimony, his strange disappearance.
   
   But Maykool insists that it didn't happen that way. He doesn't believe
   in shamanism or the cultures of the Bolivian lowlands—just in God. And
   though Maykool isn't completely sure what happened to him that night he
   says his near-death experience in the jungle is something that he'll
   never forget.
   
   Liz Unger is a National Geographic Young Explorer, photojournalist, and
   filmmaker from New York. Follow her on Twitter @ewu5191 and Instagram
   @ewu5191, and explore her work at www.lizunger.com. "

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