There Once Was A Fisherman

Jungle Jack Journals
- A True Story About psycho-Paranoia In The Jungle

There once was a fisherman casting his nets under a moon-lit sky. He heard a sound and pulled his little dugout closer to shore to see what it was. It was a group of people, apparently men, who were scantly visible in the heavy jungle growth. The men were talking as they walked along their way.

The fisherman, not knowing who might be walking along that route at this time of night, began to suspect their possible intentions. What were they up to? Did they have guns? Then he heard another sound; A tap or a click of metal. Aaah!, that could have been the sound of a gun clip!

The fisherman quietly made his evasion unnoticed and went to alert someone else. This other person in turn traveled along the shore to alert his buddies at the Iawaska camp that was located in the direction of this suspicious group. When the fellow arrived he whispered a few comments to the first watchman he could find. This watchman told another and soon the entire camp was stirring with commotion. They then sent out two guards with two women across the lake in a dugout canoe to get some help. They landed on my doorstep at 9:30 p.m. and that is how I came to be involved.

For what ever reason, by the time the story hit my doorstep it had a slightly different ring to it than when the fisherman first whispered it to his friend. A heavy pounding on my door alerted me to two frantic middle-aged American women. “We are being attacked by 70 armed men! Can you help us, please?” I knew it was going to be one of those nights.

Well of course we helped them even though we seriously doubted the reality of what they insisted to be imminent death at the hands of a band of jungle guerrillas. We called the police but knew they would be late in arriving and lacking in any desire to chase bad guys. We called the U.S. Embassy who in turn called our friends at the local police branch to light a fire under their less-than-motivated hind quarters. It worked. Before long I was receiving calls from every possible police branch in the Pucallpa area, asking how they might be of assistance. Ironically, I really didn’t want to deal with any police that night. They were the last people I wanted to deal with but I figured it was necessary to appease our friends who were seeking protection in our kitchen. Five minutes ago I was tucked away in bed!

Tom, Craig, and I loaded up into a boat and headed across the lake to save the rest of the group from what we were told was imminent attack. The lake had a surface of black crystal, illuminated by the light of a big blue moon over the jungle; almost romantic except for the fact that we were armed to the teeth and headed out to save the day! And I asked myself, “Self, how did I get here”?

We made a couple shuttles to get everybody across the lake where they were safe and sound. It was while Tom and I were scoping around the camp that we discovered the original fisherman who was the only person who supposedly saw anything. What he told us was that he really didn’t see anybody, but heard a group of people; a group of perhaps ten. I could tell that even ten was stretching it. Having exploited this little bit of information the best I could in the midst of everybody present at the camp, I was surprised to see that it did nothing to lower their fear. They were still convinced that the small army was hiding less then 70 meters away, ready to attack.

Now let me explain to you where I was. I was standing in the middle of the Iawaska camp. The camp attracts drifters, mystics, wanderers, and general riff-raff from the US and Europe. For $500 you can discover the wonderful healing powers of a drug that witch doctors have been using for generations. It is a fairly powerful drug that surpasses the effects of marijuana and causes hallucinations and paranoia. It is legal. But as I walked through the camp, I could also smell the distinct aroma of marijuana. That is illegal. Having heard enough to cry and smelled enough to fly home, we headed back down to the port to catch the last shuttle back to home base.

I got back to my house and found Lisa in the kitchen still hosting our two middle-aged mystics. As I entered I noticed the two ladies were in the middle of some healing ritual where one was casting out the effects of mosquito bites by using the laying on of hands and mind-over-matter. The dialog went something like this:

Doctor: Is there mosquito venom in you?
Patient: Yes.
Doctor: No, you’re suppose to say no.
Patient: Oh, okay. No.
Doctor: You want all effect to leave you now.
Patient: Am I supposed to say yes?
Doctor: yeah.
Patient: Okay, yes.

And on it went. I was just about to introduce our doctor friend to the miracle healing powers of Hydrocortisone cream when the telephone rang. It was the General from the PNP (Peruvian National Police). “Excuse me folks, I’m talking to the General. Could you please keep it down?”

I had met the General on one previous occasion so I could truthfully say we were acquaintances. Six months ago I invited the General and five of his top brass to our house for a little get-to-know-you session. Heck, we were almost on a first name basis!

The Embassy had called him to fill him in as to what they thought was happening out at some place called Cashibococha. I said yes sir, no sir and thank you sir at all the right times and he gave me his home phone number to call anytime I needed. Cool!

I finally crawled back in bed around midnight having delivered our friends out to the highway where they enjoyed a police escort back into town. Lisa and I enjoyed a good laugh at the lunacy of the past three hours.

The Holy Man
Throughout the evening I kept hearing about Don Mateo. Don Mateo is listed as an Elder on his website and is the owner of this little psycho-adventure tourist camp across the lake. The people coming through are genuine searchers looking for fulfillment or healing in their psycho-spiritual lives. One person had cancer while some were just trying to unite with nature. Others simply saw it as a cool way to get high with the natives.

It has been my observation that there are three kinds of people in the world. First, those who have defined their world view very clearly and try to pattern their lives around it. They have principle and purpose by which they make their decisions, and communicate it to others by the way they live their lives. Christians should be included in this group. Secondly, there are those who understand a particular world view from their upbringing or heritage but actively live against the laws and principles that run parallel to it. And finally there are those who have no clue as to what world view they carry and have no interest in finding out. These are the ones that will answer with a profound, “daah, boy I don’t know. That’s a good one.”, if you ask them what their purpose in life is.

I have little patience for the last group which unfortunately is the most rapidly growing group in the Western Culture now days. It’s the ‘what-ever’ crowd. The second group is usually backsliders and rebellious youth rejecting principle solely on the basis that ‘you can’t make me be like you’. I get frustrated with this group. That leads us back to the first group; those that are actively trying to build their lives around a clearly defined set of laws. At least you can engage in meaningful conversation with these people because they have already given forethought to your questions. If you are a Christian and find yourself in the first group, be advised that you share this group with the likes of those who visit the Iawaska camp. All are searching for the Truth. Some have found it. Some have not.

One of the strangest comments I heard that night was of this ‘holy man’, Don Mateo. “This man has brought me closer to Jesus”. “He is a righteous man.” “He is such a holy man; so close to nature”. And that is where they fell apart. They unknowingly voiced a contradiction in terms. They said he was such a “holy” man, so “close to nature”. I don’t think I’m stretching anyone’s words to extrapolate and say that the perfect state would then be where one is perfectly united with nature. But the word ‘holy’ means, in all of its religious significance, to be ‘separate from’. God is Holy because he is holy separate from all that is considered nature. He is not dependent on the laws of nature and is in no way controlled or affected by the laws of nature. He is Holy apart. Don Mateo, on the other hand, was uniting himself with nature and therefore subjecting his life to the laws of nature.

God calls us to by Holy; to be set apart from the laws of the fallen world that rules by the laws of nature. That is the work of sanctification; setting yourself apart from the laws of the natural world and subjecting yourselves to the Holy Spirit. Nature, like human nature, is fallen, and offers no grace.

What these people were saying was that through all their searching and wisdom, they have concluded that they want to find eternal peace and happiness by being fully subjected to the laws of nature. Okay. That’s their decision. But let’s examine the laws of nature. It is generally called the survival of the fittest. Biggest animal wins. The weak die without mercy. If a tree can find enough sun, it grows. It the others find it first, it dies. For the few lost tribes of Indians still roaming through the Amazon, the laws of nature are a fearful reality. It is a day to day battle for survival with the hopes of only being able to die in peace when life is all said and done. It is dark and hopeless. I’m not talking about the appearance of the natural world. It definitely has an awesome beauty that can intoxicate anyone. But if we are talking about the laws of nature, don’t look for grace – you won’t find any.

Christians, like my mystic friends, are searching for the Truth as well. But Christians will seek holiness in a God who is in fact holy separate from the human nature as well as the laws of nature. A Christian can see that all of creation has fallen to the consequence of sin and human nature is no exception. The Laws of God offer forgiveness, grace and freedom like no other religion in the world. I encourage you, if you are a Christian of the 3rd class (those who really don’t know the significance of what they believe), to seek and find the Truths of God. They are rich with meaning and hope; offering grace to even the weakest and ‘brokenest’ of persons.

I love nature and enjoy living close to the elements. God created it and therefore I can stand in awe of Him as I experience it and learn more about it. I’m just glad I’m not subject to its laws.

May God be true to His Word when He offers you the promise that “you will seek Him and find Him when you seek him with all of your heart”. (Jeremiah 29:13)