Streets of Pucallpa


The jungle villages of Peru are a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of Lima.  Beside the fact that the climate is usually awesome in the jungle (if you think torrential rain is “awesome”…I’m kidding, there’s not always torrential rain, then again you don’t get any rain in Lima so it’s a welcome change when it does happen), it’s just quieter somehow.
When I went to Iquitos and did one of those ridiculous “jungle tours” for tourists, the impression I went away with was how quiet the locals were (the ones out in the jungle anyway). 
Most of the time those “jungle tours” are a bit of a sham, but the quietness was not something you could fake.  They talked in a whisper all the time and it was simply impossible to imagine one of them raising their voice.  I mean, I can be quiet for short stretches, but neither I nor other people from the US are ever quiet for very long, and you can just tell that by hanging around one of us.
I wasn’t sure what the source of their silence was, but it didn’t seem to be out of a need for hunting…but just a general sense of respect for the jungle.  Maybe they didn’t want to make too much noise because a jaguar might hear it and come and eat them.
Well…people from the US and people from Lima don’t have to give a shit about a jaguar coming and eating them so they just scream and yell like a bunch of morons all the time.  I’d guess we must look pretty foolish to the jungle people.
You often see the jungle people in Lima working as maids for some loudmouth pitucos, I’ve been in bodegas and watched as pitucos pushed right by these silent, submissive people just because they knew they weren’t going to start complaining.  What was “right” was of no concern whatsoever.  Actually, I’ve had pitucos try to push by me in bodegas, you should see how PISSED they get when you tell them to wait their fucking turn.  I’ve had people start SCREAMING at me for insisting that I was at the counter first and should be served first (they think they should be served first for some insane reason).
I tend to give little gifts to my regular bodegas just so I’m sure they’re on my side when some pituco bitch starts flapping her mouth.  There’s nothing quite so satisfying as seeing some arrogant, bigoted, wealthy old woman get put in her place.  Of course she probably goes home and beats up her slave labor so maybe I should be the one holding my tongue.  
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