Mona Helen Preuss
The moment your six-seater plane lands on that narrow grass airstrip surrounded by dense jungle, you know you’re in another world. A world where you’ll reside for the next four or five days, a place where your whole life outlook might possibly be altered.
After an hour downstream in a dugout canoe, you’ll arrive at the Huaorani Ecolodge, the base from whence your local guide and a naturalist will show you the wonders of the flora and fauna around you and treat you to the hospitality of this region’s indigenous people.
Perhaps you’ll sketch or photograph some of the thousands of plant species around you. Perhaps you’ll be caught in a torrential downpour. 
Perhaps you’ll snack on lemon ants by the light of some bioluminescent mushrooms. It’s possible that you’ll see a tapir or a jaguar.
You might drink chicha, dance, or even sing a traditional Huaorani chant with the charming people who invite you into their homes. You might cry or shrink in horror as you see what oil exploration is doing to Huaorani lands and their way of life. One thing is certain: you’ll have plenty to write home about, if only you can find the words.
Huaorani Ecolodge: www.huaorani.com
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