WHENIFELLFROMTHESKY

TheTrueStoryofOneWoman’sMiraculousSurvival

WHENIFELLFROMTHESKYTheTrueStoryofOneWoman’sMiraculousSurvival

BYJULIANEKOEPCKE

INCOLLABORATIONWITHBEATERYGIERTTRANSLATEDBYROSSBENJAMIN

WHENIFELLFROMTHESKYTheTrueStoryofOneWoman’sMiraculousSurvival

WrittenbyJulianeKoepckeInCollaborationwithBeateRygiert

TranslatedbyRossBenjamin

Copyright©2011JulianeKoepckeandPiperVerlag,MunichEnglishTranslationCopyright©2011RossBenjamin

Allrightsreserved.Noportionofthisbookmaybereproducedinwholeorinpart,byanymeanswhatsoever,exceptforpassagesexcerptedforthepurposesofreview,withoutthepriorwrittenpermissionofthepublisher.Forinformation,ortoorderadditionalcopies,pleasecontact:

TitleTownPublishing,LLCP.O.Box12093GreenBay,WI54307-12093920.737.8051|titletownpublishing.com

NorthAmericanEditor:StephanieFinneganProductionAssociate:MartinLedermanCoverDesign:DaleFiorilloInteriorLayoutandDesign:ErikaL.Block

PUBLISHER’SCATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATIONDATA:

Koepcke,Juliane.

WhenIfellfromthesky:thetruestoryofonewoman’smiraculoussurvival/JulianeKoepcke;incollaborationwithBeateRygiert;translatedbyRossBenjamin.1stEnglished.--GreenBay,Wis.:TitleTownPublishing,c2011.

p.;cm.

ISBN:978-0-9837547-0-1Translationof:AlsichvomHimmelfiel:wiemirderDschungelmeinLebenzurückgab(Munich:Malik,2011;9783890293899).Includesindex.

Summary:Describesthe11-dayordealfacedbythe17-yearoldsolesurvivorofanairplanecrashinthePeruvianjunglein1971.

1.Koepcke,Juliane.2.Airplanecrashsurvival--Peru--Personalnarratives.3.Aircraftaccidents--Peru--Personalnarratives.I.Rygiert,Beate.II.Benjamin,Ross.III.Title:AlsichvomHimmelfiel.

TL553.9.K64132011

1110

363.1/248092--dc23

PrintedintheUSAfirstedition printedonrecycledpaper

10987654321

Formymother,whodedicatedhershortlifetothebirdsofPeru,andwhowastornmuchtoosoonfrommyside.

CONTENTS

CHRISTMASEVE,1971

CHAPTER1:MYNEWLIFE

CHAPTER2:ACHILDHOODAMONGANIMALS

CHAPTER3:WHATILEARNEDABOUTLIFEFROMMYFATHER

CHAPTER4:MYLIFEINTWOWORLDS

CHAPTER5:HOWIBECAMEAJUNGLEGIRL

CHAPTER6:THECRASH

CHAPTER7:ALONEINTHEJUNGLE

CHAPTER8:PUCALLPATODAY

CHAPTER9:THELARGERIVER

CHAPTER10:THERETURN

CHAPTER11:ONESURVIVED!

CHAPTER12:GREETINGSFROMTHISWORLDANDTHENEXT

CHAPTER13:TERRIBLECERTAINTY,AGONIZINGUNCERTAINTY

CHAPTER14:NOTHINGISTHESAMEASITWAS

CHAPTER15:HOMECOMINGTOAFOREIGNCOUNTRY

CHAPTER16:MIRACLESSTILLHAPPEN

CHAPTER17:AREUNIONANDARETURN

CHAPTER18:THESECRETSOULOFTHEFOREST

CHAPTER19:KEEPINGANEYEFIXEDONTHEFUTURE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

INDEX

Shedidnotleavetheairplane,theairplanelefther.—WernerHerzog,directorandproducer

HewasthefirstpersonIsaw,anditwasasifanangelwerecomingtowardme.—JulianeKoepcke,describingherrescuerintheWingsofHopedocumentary

ChristmasEve,1971

TheflightfromLimatoPucallpatakesonlyaboutanhour.OnDecember24,1971,thefirstthirtyminutesareperfectlynormal.Ourfellowpassengersareinhighspirits.EveryoneisexcitedtocelebrateChristmasathome.Theluggagebinsarestuffedwithpresents,andeveryoneissettledinfortheflight.Afterabouttwentyminutes,we’reservedasmallbreakfast,whichincludesasandwichanddrink.Tenminuteslaterthestewardessesarecleaningupourareas.

Then,allofasudden,wehitastormfront.Andthistimeit’scompletelydifferentfromanythingI’veexperienced

before.Thepilotdoesnotavoidthethunderstorm,butfliesstraightintothecauldronofhell.Itturnstonightaroundus,inbroaddaylight.Lightningisflashingfeverishlyfromalldirections.

Atthesametimeaninvisiblepowerbeginstoshakeourairplaneasifitwereaplaything.Thepeoplecryoutasobjectsfallontheirheadsfromtheviolentlyopenedoverheadcompartments.Bags,flowers,packages,toys,wrappedgifts,jacketsandclothingraindownhardonus;sandwichtraysandbagssoarthroughtheair;half-finisheddrinkssplatteronourheadsandshoulders.Everyoneisfrightened,andIhearscreamsandcries.

AfewweeksbeforethatflightonChristmasEve,1971,Ihadgoneonaneight-daytripwithmywholeclass.WeflewtoArequipainthesouthernpartofthecountry,andinalettertomygrandmotherIwrote:Theflightwasglorious!Attheendofthetrip,thereturnflighttoLimawasextremelyturbulent,andmanyofmyclassmatesfeltphysicallyill.ButIwasn’tnervousatall.Ievenenjoyedtherocking.Iwassonaivethatitdidn’tevenoccurtomethatsomethingcouldhappen.

Mymother,however,doesn’tliketofly.Sheoftensays:“It’stotallyunnaturalthatsuchabirdmadeofmetaltakesoffintotheair.”Asanornithologist,sheseesthisfromadifferentstandpointthanotherpeopledo.OnoneofherflightstotheUnitedStates,shealreadyhadanexperiencethatgaveherahugescare,whenanenginemalfunctioned.Eventhoughnothinghappenedandtheplanewasstillabletolandsafelywithoneengine,shewassweating.

“Hopefully,thisgoesallright,”mymothersays.Icanfeelhernervousness,whileImyselfamstillprettycalm.

ThenIsuddenlyseeablindingwhitelightovertherightwing.Idon’tknowwhetherit’saflashoflightningstrikingthereoranexplosion.Iloseall

senseoftime.Ican’ttellwhetherallthislastsminutesoronlyafractionofasecond:I’mblindedbythatblazinglight.

Withajolt,thetipoftheairplanefallssteeplydownward.EventhoughI’minawindowseatallthewayintheback,Icanseethewholeaisletothecockpit,whichisbelowme.Thephysicallawshavebeensuspended;it’slikeanearthquake.No,itisworse.Becausenowwe’reracingdownward.We’refalling.Peoplearescreaminginpanic,shrillcriesforhelp;theroaroftheplummetingturbines,whichIwillhearagainandagaininmydreams,engulfsme.

Andthere,overeverything,clearasglass,Ihearmymothersayingquitecalmly:“Nowit’sallover.”

TodayIknowthatatthatmomentshealreadygraspedwhatwouldhappen.

I,ontheotherhand,graspnothingatall.Anintenseastonishmentcomesoverme,becausenowmyears,my

head—no,Imyselfamcompletelyfilledwiththedeeproaroftheplane,whileitsnoseslantsalmostverticallydownward.We’replummeting.Butthisnosedive,too,Iexperienceasifitlastednolongerthantheblinkofaneye.Fromonemomenttothenext,thepeople’sscreamsgosilent.It’sasiftheroaroftheturbineshasbeenerased.

MymotherisnolongeratmysideandI’mnolongerintheairplane.I’mstillstrappedintomyseat,butI’malone.

Atanaltitudeofabouttenthousandfeet,I’malone.AndI’mfalling,slicingthroughthesky…about2milesabovethe

earth.

1MyNewLife

AviewintothecanopyoftherainforestofPanguana,2010.Thisisthetypeofcanopythatbrokemyfallthroughthesky.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

ManypeoplewonderhowIstillmanagetogetonairplanes,forIamoneofthefewwhohavesurvivedaplanecrashfromagreatheight.ItwasacatastrophethatoccurrednearlytenthousandfeetoverthePeruvianrainforest.Butthat’snotall:AfterthecrashIstruggledforelevendaysonmyownthroughthejungle.Atthattime,whenIfellfromthesky,Iwasjustseventeenyearsold.

TodayI’mfifty-six.Agoodageforlookingback.Agoodtimetoconfrontold,unhealedwoundsandtosharewithotherpeoplemymemories,whicharejustasfreshandaliveafteralltheseyears.Thecrash,ofwhichIwasthesolesurvivor,shapedtherestofmylife,pointeditinanewdirectionandledmetowhereIamtoday.Backthen,newspapersallovertheworldwerefullofmystory.Amongthemthereweremanyhalf-truthsandreportsthathadlittletodowiththeactualevents.Becauseofthem,peoplestillapproachmetothisdayandaskaboutthecrash.EveryoneinGermanyandPeruseemstoknowmystory,andyetscarcelyanyonehasagenuineideaofwhatreallyhappenedbackthen.

Ofcourse,it’snotsosimpletounderstandthatafterelevendaysfightingtosurviveinthe“greenhellofthejungle,”Istilllovetherainforest.Thetruthis:Formeitwasnevera“greenhell.”WhenIplungedtoearthfromsuchagreatheight,theforestsavedmylife.Withouttheleavesoftreesandbushescushioningmyfall,Inevercouldhavesurvivedtheimpactontheground.WhenIwasunconscious,itscreenedmefromthetropicalsun.Andlaterithelpedmefindmywayoutoftheuntouchedwildernessbacktocivilization.

HadIbeenapurecitychild,Ineverwouldhavemadeitbacktolife.ItwasmygoodfortunethatIhadalreadyspentafewyearsofmyyounglifeinthe“jungle.”(Nowadaystheterm“rainforest”ispreferredto“jungle,”butweusedthewordsinterchangeablybackthen.)In1968,myparentshadrealizedtheirdreamandfoundedabiologicalresearchstationinthemiddleofthePeruvianrainforest.Atthetime,IwasfourteenyearsoldandlessthanthrilledaboutleavingbehindmyfriendsinLimaandmovingwithmyparents,ourdogandparakeet,thewholekitandcaboodle,intothe“middleofnowhere.”Inanycasethat’showIimagineditbackthen,eventhoughmyparentshadtakenmefromanearlyagealongontheirexpeditions.

Themovetothejunglewasarealadventure.Onourarrival,Iimmediatelyfellinlovewiththatlife,assimpleandmodestasitmighthavebeen.ForalmosttwoyearsIlivedinPanguana,asmyparentshadchristenedtheresearchstationafteranativebird.Inadditiontobeingtaughtbythem,Iwenttotheschoolofthejungle.ThereIgottoknowitsrules,itslawsanditsinhabitants.Ibecameacquaintedwiththeplantlife,exploredtheworldof

animals.NotfornothingwasIthedaughteroftwowell-knownzoologists:Mymother,MariaKoepcke,wasPeru’sleadingornithologist,andmyfather,Hans-WilhelmKoepcke,wastheauthorofanimportantcomprehensiveworkonthelife-formsoftheanimalandplantworld.InPanguana,thejunglebecamemyhome,andthereIlearnedwhichdangersloominitandwhichdon’t.Iwasfamiliarwiththerulesofconductwithwhichapersoncansurviveinthisextremeenvironment.Asachild,mysenseswerealreadysharpenedfortheincrediblewonderscontainedbythishabitat,whichleadsinbiodiversityworldwide.Yes,Iwasalreadylearningtolovethejunglebackthen.

Thoseelevendaysfarfromsettlementsinthemiddleofthetropicalrainforest,elevendaysduringwhichIdidn’thearahumanvoiceanddidn’tknowwhereIwas,thoseextraordinarydayshavemademyattachmentstilldeeper.AtthattimeIformedabondwiththejungle,whichdecisivelyinfluencedmylaterlife,anditcontinuestodosotoday.Ilearnedearlythatwe’reafraidonlyofthingswedon’tknow.Humanbeingshaveatendencytodestroyeverythingthatfrightensthem,eveniftheycannotbegintoconceiveofitsworth.Duringmylonelyjourneybacktocivilization,Iwasoftenafraid,butneverofthejungle.Itwasn’titsfaultthatIlandedinit.Natureisalwaysthesame,whetherwe’rethereornot,itdoesn’tmattertoit.Butwe—this,too,Iexperiencedfirsthandduringthoseelevendays—cannotsurvivewithoutit.

Allthisisreasonenoughformetodevotemylifetothepreservationofthisuniqueecosystem.WithPanguana,myparentsleftmeaninheritancethatIhaveacceptedwithallmyheart.AndtodayI’mtakingtheirworkthereintoacriticalnewphase:Panguana,largerthanever,istobedeclaredanaturereserve.Notonlyisthisthefulfillmentofmyfather’sdream,whichhespentdecadesfightingfor,butitisalsoavaluablecontributiontothepreservationoftheAmazonRainForest.Notleastofall,thiscanhelppreventglobalclimatecatastrophe.Therainforestisnotonlyfullofwonders,mostofwhichwedon’tevenknowyet—itspreservationasthegreenlungoftheearthisalsocrucialforthecontinuedexistenceofanextremelyyoungspeciesonthisplanet:humanbeings.

Theyear2011isthefortiethanniversaryofthe1971airplanedisaster.Overalltheseyears,muchhasbeenwrittenaboutmy“accident,”asIcallthecrash.Countlessnewspaperpageshavebeenfilledwithwhatpeopletaketobe“Juliane’sstory.”Fromtimetotimethereweregoodarticlesamongthem,butunfortunatelyalsomanythathadlittledowiththetruth.Therewasatimewhenthemediaattentionalmostoverwhelmedme.Toprotectmyself,Iremainedsilent

foryears,rejectedeveryinterviewandwithdrewcompletely.Butnowthetimehascometobreakmysilenceandtellhowitreallywas.That’swhyIamnowsittingattheMunichAirportonpackedsuitcasestobeginajourneythatwillbeimportanttomefortworeasons:toachievethegoalofestablishingPanguanaasanaturereserve,andtofacemypast.Past,presentandfuturearethusmeaningfullyintertwined.WhathappenedtomebackthenandthequestionofwhyI,ofallpeople,wastheonlysurvivorsparedintheLANSAdisaster—nowallthisfinallytakesonadeepermeaning.

AndthenI’msittingontheairplane.Yes,peoplewonderwithamazementhowImanagetogetonairplanestimeandagain.Imanageitwithwillpoweranddiscipline.ImanageitbecauseIhavetoifIwanttoreturntotherainforest.Butit’shard.

Theairplanestartsmoving;wetakeoff;werise;weplungedeepintothedensecloudcoverintheskyoverMunich.Ilookoutthewindow,andsuddenlyIsee…

2AChildhoodAmongAnimals

Myfavoritepet,atinamounamedPolsterchen(LittlePillow)becauseofitssoftplumage,1967.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

…thoseimpenetrableblackcloudsandflashesoflightning.We’vehitaheavythunderstorm,andthepilotfliesstraightintotheseethingcauldron.Theairplaneturnsintotheplaythingofthehurricane.BaggageandgiftswrappedforChristmas,flowersandtoysfalldownonusfromoverheadcompartments.Theairplaneplungesdirectlyintodeepairpocketsandthenrisesrapidlyagain.Thepeoplescreamwithfear.Andsuddenlythere’sthatblindingflashovertherightwingoftheairplane….

Itakeadeepbreath.Abovemethesignturnsoff;Icanunfastenmyseatbelt.We’rejustbeyondMunich,andourairplanehasreacheditscruisingaltitude.AfteralayoverinMadrid,myhusband,ErichDiller,andIwillboardtheplanetoLima.Thentherearestilltwelvehoursaheadofme,twelvehoursofextremetensionaboutsixmilesabovetheground.OverPortugal,wewillleavethemainlandbehindandcrosstheAtlantic.

IfIwanttoreturntothecountrywhereIwasborn,Ihavenootherchoice.Evenintheageofthelow-budgetflight,atriparoundhalftheglobeisnopicnic.I’menteringnotonlyanothercontinent,butalsoanothertimezone,climateandseason.Whenit’sspringathome,autumnisbeginninginPeru.AndevenwithinPeru,Iexperiencetwodifferentclimatezones:thetemperateoneinLimaandthetropicaloneintherainforest.Butaboveall,eachtripformeisajourneyintothepast.ForinPeru,Icameintotheworld;inPeru,Igrewup;andinPeru,theeventoccurredthatwouldchangemylifefromthegroundup.Iwasinaplanecrash,survivedbysomemiracleforseveraldayscompletelyonmyowninthemiddleofthejungleandfoundmywaybacktootherpeople.Backthen,mylifewasgiventomeasecondtime.Itwaslikeasecondbirth.Onlythistimemymotherlostherlife.

Mymotheroftentoldmehowhappyshewaswhenshewaspregnantwithme.Myparentsconductedtheirintensiveresearchtogetherandlovedtheirworkmorethananything.TheyhadmetasdoctoralstudentsinKiel,andbecauseitwasdifficultforpassionatebiologiststofindasuitablepositioninpostwarGermany,myfatherdecidedtoimmigratetoacountrywithahigh,asyetunexplored,biodiversity.Histhen-fiancée,MariavonMikulicz-Radecki,wasexcitedabouttheplanandfollowedhimafterreceivingherdoctorate,whichwasunheardofatthattimeforanunmarriedyoungwoman.Mygrandfatherwasnotatallpleasedthatmymotherwentonthelongjourneyallbyherself.Butonceshegotsomethingintoherhead,shecouldnolongerbedissuadedfromit.(Incidentally,myhusbandclaimsthatIinheritedthatfromher.)

InthecathedraloftheMirafloresDistrictinLima,theyweremarried

soonaftertheirarrivalintheNewWorld.MymotherwasdisappointedthatasaCatholicshewaswedtomyfather,whowasaProtestant,notonthemainaltarbutinasmalladjacentchapel.Atthattimeinterdenominationalmarriageswereintheminority,andtheCatholicpriesttriedhardtoinfluencemymothertoleadmyfathertothe“truefaith.”ThisinsistenceannoyedmymothersomuchthatshestoppedattendingtheCatholicserviceandalsodecidedaftermybirthtobaptizemeasaProtestant.

Atthetimemyparentsgotmarried,mymotherstilldidn’tspeakanySpanish,soshecouldn’tfollowtheweddingceremony.Atonepointitbecamestrangelysilentinthechurch,andthenthepriestsaid:“Señora,youhavetosaysínow.”

And“sí”—“yes”—bothofthemsaidfromthebottomoftheirhearts.Notonlytoeachother,butalsotothekindoflifetheywantedtoleadtogether.Fromtheirsmallapartmenttheysoonmovedintoalargerhouse,whichbelongedtofriends,andhereIwasborn.Latertheyfoundedafewblocksawaythe“HumboldtHouse,”wellknownatthetimeinresearchercircles,inwhichtheysubletroomstoscientistspassingthroughfromallovertheworld.Theydividedtheirprivateareaofthehousesimplywithcurtains.TheHumboldtHouseinMirafloreswouldgodowninhistoryasthemeetingplaceandbasestationofnotablescientists.

Eventhoughbothofthemweredevotedtotheirworkwithheartandsoul,Iwasabsolutelyawantedchild.Myfatherwashopingforagirl,andwhenIenteredtheworldin1954,onaSundayatseveno’clockintheevening,intheClínicaDelgadointheMirafloresDistrictofLima,hiswishcametrue.Iwasbornprematurelyintheeighthmonthofmymother’spregnancyandfirsthadtogointotheincubator.PerhapsitwasagoodomenthatmyparentsdecidedtogivemethenameJuliane.Itmeans“thecheerfulone”—Ifindthatthenamesuitsmewell.

Atthattimemyfather’smotherandhissister,Cordula,werealsolivingwithusinPeru.Mygrandmotherwantedtospendafewyearsinthecountrytowhichtwoofhersonshadimmigrated.Foraftermyfatherhadsettleddownhere,Joachim,hisyoungerbrother,decidedin1951tobuildalifeheretoo.Heworkedasanadministratoronvariouslargehaciendasinthenorthofthecountry.OneofthemwasevenaslargeasBelgium.MyparentsvisitedUncleJoachimseveraltimesthereinTaulís,whichwasanexceptionallyinterestingareaforthemaszoologists.BecausetheAndesarerelativelylowthere,atabout6,500feet,anunusualfloraandfaunaexchangetakesplacebetweentheeastandwestsideofthemountainrange,andmyparentsdiscoveredsomenewanimal

speciesthere.Butcompletelyunexpectedly,whilemygrandmotherandauntweremakingtheirdepartureplansinGermany,myuncleJoachimhadadeadlyaccidentinTaulís.Havingjustbeenperfectlyhealthy,hediedwithinlessthantwohoursfromspasms.Tothisdayitremainsunresolvedwhetherhefellvictimtotetanusormighthavebeenpoisonedbyopiumfarmershewasonto.

Buthismotherandsisterhadalreadyseveredalltiesathomeandnowdecidedtocome,anyway.SoIhadthegoodfortuneofhavingnotonlymyfatherandmother,butalsomygrandmotherandauntaroundduringthefirstyearsofmychildhood.ThetwoofthemremainedinPeruforsixyears.MyauntworkedforatimeastheeditorinchiefofthePeruvianPost,aGermannewspaperinLima.Thentheyreturnedtotheirnativecountry,myauntbecauseofbetterprofessionalopportunitiesandmygrandmotherforhealthreasons,andprobablyalsobecauseshewashomesickforGermany.

Igrewupwithbothlanguages,SpanishandGerman.Thelatterwasspokenathome,anditwasreallyimportanttomyparentsthatIlearnedtheirmothertongueperfectly.Bynomeanswasthatagiven.SomeofmyschoolmatesofGermandescenthadonlyanimperfectmasteryofthelanguageoftheirancestors.IspokeSpanishwithmyPeruvianfriends,withourhousemaidandlateralsoinschool.MyparentshadfirstreallylearnedthelanguageinPeru,andeventhoughtheywereproficientinit,afewmistakeswouldalwayscreepin.ButPeruviansarepolitepeople;whenitwasnecessarytopointoutanerror,theyalwaysdidsoasgentlyaspossible.

Oneday,whenIwasalreadyalmostgrownup,IrealizedthatmyfatherusedtheformalmodeofaddresswithmeinSpanish.Itoldhim:“Youcan’tdothat.I’myourdaughter!”Buthebecamereallyembarrassedandconfessedtomethathehadneverproperlylearnedtheinformalmode.Hewasaveryformalperson,hadfewclosefriendsand,thus,usedthepoliteformofaddresswithoutexception.

InLima,IattendedtheGerman-PeruvianAlexandervonHumboldtSchool.InstructionwasmostlyinGerman,butthemilitaryregimeatthetimeplacedvalueonsubjectslikehistoryandregionalgeographybeingtaughtinSpanish.Iremembermyschooldaysasverypleasant,eventhoughmyPeruvianschoolmatescamefrommuchbettercircles.Nowonder,becauseyouhadtopaytuition,whichthepoorerfamiliescouldn’tafford.Whenyoufinishedschool,therewasamandatorytrip,whichinPeruwascalledthe“ViajedePromoción.”Itookpartinit,buttherewastobeno“Abitur,”astheGermanuniversityentranceexamiscalled,forme.AGermandelegationwouldhavecome

specificallytotestus,butaflightovertheAndeswouldchangeeverything.WhenIcamehomefromschool,Iwasalwayssurroundedbyanimals.

Asanornithologist,mymotherwasconstantlybringingbirdshomethathadbeeninjuredorshotandthatwenursedbacktohealth.Forawhiletinamouswerehermainobjectofstudy.Thisfamilyofbirdsoutwardlydisplayssimilaritieswithpartridges,butisnototherwiserelatedtothem.TheyoccuronlyinSouthandCentralAmerica.ItisfunnytocomparetheirbehaviorwithSouthAmericanmachismo.Foramongtinamousthefemalesareincharge:Theyhaveseveralmalesatonce,whohavealotofworktodo.Theybuildthenest,havetobroodtheeggsandraisetheyoung,whilethefemaledefendstheturf.Thatcausedproblemswiththebreeding:Ifamalewantedtoleavethenesttoeatsomething,thefemalewouldpromptlychaseitbackontotheeggs.Incidentally,theywerebrownaschocolateandshinyasporcelain.

Sometimeswealsoraisedhatchedchicks.Wefedthemcarefullywiththedropper.Theylikedamixtureofhard-boiledegg,groundmeatandvitaminformulabest.Mymotherhadarealknackforthis:Notoncedidachickshewasraisingdie.Iwasresponsiblefornamingthecreatures.Icameupwiththewildestthings:AlargelizardIchristenedKrokodeckchen(acombinationoftheGerman“Krokodil”and“Eidechschen,”thediminutiveforalizard;inEnglish,itmighthavebeensomethinglikeCrocolizzy),andmythreetinamousInamedPiups(animitationofitscallwhenitwasfrightened),Polsterchen(LittlePillow,becauseofitssoftplumage,whichIlovedtopetandwhichitoftenruffled)andKastanienäuglein(LittleChestnutEye,becauseofitsbeautifulchestnutbrowneyes).

Theseanimalsoriginallycomefromamagicallandscape.It’scalledLomasdeLachayandisafogdesertareaonthePacificCoast.Anextremelydrydesert,theAtacama,runsthroughpartsofPeru.Becauseoutontheocean,thecoldHumboldtCurrentflowsby,adensefogcoverforms,knownas“garúa,”whichprovidesastonishinglylushvegetationatparticularpointswhereitmeetstheAndeanslopes.Inthemiddleofthedesert,youthusencounterinthoseplacesvibrantlycolorfulislandsofplants.Myparentstookmetherewiththemafewtimes.Thisbloomingoasisinthemiddleofthebrowndesertmonotonyappearedtomeoneachvisitasatruewonder.Andthat’swhereourtinamouscamefrom.

AmulticoloredparrotnamedTobiasalsolivedwithus,whomIcalled“Bio”evenbeforeIlearnedtospeak.Biohadalreadybeeninthehousebeforemybirthandatfirstcouldn’tstandme,becausehewasjealous.WhenasasmallchildIapproachedhim,shouting“Bio,Bio,”fullofexcitement,hewouldpeck

atme,untilhefinallyhadtoacceptme.Tobiaswasaverysmartparrot,whodidn’tlikeitatallwhenhiscagewassoiled.Whenhehadtogo,heletoutacertainsound.ThatwasasignforustotakeTobiasoutofthecageandbringhimtothetoilet.Yes,totheregulartoiletforpeople!Weheldhimabovethebowland—plop!—hedidhisbusiness.WhenTobiasonedaysufferedaheartattack,mymothercuredhimwithItalianCinzano.Thatrevivedhiscirculation,andisitanysurprise:Fromthatdayon,hewasafanofthisaperitif.Wheneverguestscame,Tobiaswaddledoverandwantedtohavehissiptoo.

InalettertoafriendinGermany,mymotherwroteofmygreatenthusiasmforthejunglewhenshetookmewithherforthefirsttimetotheRíoPachitea,whichwouldlaterbecomesoimportantformylife.AtthetimeIwasonlyfiveyearsold:

Shecopesamazinglywellwithanysituation,suchassleepinginatentorinasleepingbagonarubbermattress,whetheronthebeachoronaboat.Forher,theseareallinterestingthings.AndyouhavetoimaginetheatmosphereontheRíoPachitea:thedimmorningoreveningwithdensefog,thecallsofthehowlermonkeys,theriversilverygreen,closetotheboatthehighwallofthedarkjungle,fromwhichthemany-voicedconcertofthecricketsandcicadassounds.Youfeelasifyou’rereallyinprimordialnature.Julianewasprobablymostexcitedaboutthebloomingtreesandthediversityandbeautifulshapesoftheleaves.Shehasalreadycollectedaherbarium….

WhenIwasnineyearsold,theBelgiananimalcatcherCharlesCordiervisiteduswithhiswifeandhismenagerie.Cordierwascommissionedbyfamouszoologicalgardensallovertheworldtotrapspecimensofparticularanimalspecies.HehadanextremelyintelligentgrayparrotnamedKazuco,whocouldspeakmoreoutstandinglythanIeverwitnessedaparrotspeakbeforeorsince.TherewasalsotheboxerBöckiandtheowlSkadi,whowasallowedtoflyaroundthebathroomatnight.MonsieurCordierreleasedmicefortheowltocatch.SometimesitalsoattackedDaddy’sshavingbrush,becauseitlookedsosimilar.Kazuco,thegrayparrotfromtheCongo,greetedyouinthemorningwith“Goodmorning”andintheeveningwith“Goodevening.”Iwasextremelyfascinatedbythecleverlittleguy,whocouldalsosay“Böcki,sit!”Andtheboxerwouldactuallysitdown.Kazucopickedupsoundsandsentencesincrediblyquickly.DuringthedaysintheHumboldtHouse,helearnedtosay:“Limahastwomillionpeople.”Ilovedtostrokehismagnificentgray-shadedplumage.Oncehebitmyfingerhard—tothisdayIhaveascar.Unfortunately,ourTobiasdiedthatsameyearofpneumonia.

Imyselfbecameseriouslyillthenextyear—duringsummervacation,

ofalltimes!Igotscarletfever,whichreallyalarmedmyparents,formyfather’syoungestsisterhaddiedofthatillnessatthesameage.Iwasalwayssosmall,thinandfrail,andsothewholefamilyheavedasighofreliefwhenafterseveralweeksIwasbackonmyfeetandcouldtakecareofmyanimalsagain.

FromanearlyageIwasalsototallyenthusiasticaboutdogs.AttheageofthreeIalreadygotaspaniel.IlovedAjaxdearly.Unfortunately,wehadtogivehimaway,becauseheneededmorespacetorunaroundinthanwaspossibleinthecity,andheconstantlyravagedourgarden.HowsadIwasthen!

Iwasallthemoreblissfulwhenalong-cherishedwishofminefinallycametrueattheageofnine:Wewenttotheanimalshelter,whereLobowasalreadywaitingforme.LobowasagorgeousGermanshepherdmix.HelatercamewithuswhenwemovedfromLimaintothejungletoPanguana.Helivedtotheripeoldageofeighteen.

Somebirdsevencametousontheirown,justasifwordhadgottenaroundthattheywouldhaveitgoodwithus.OnedayagiganticAndeanblackbirdflutteredin,and,ofcourse,itstayedtoo.Myparentshadvisitorsthatday,AmericanornithologistsfromBerkeley,whoimmediatelygaveittherightname.TheynamedtheblackbirdProfessorbecauseofitsyellow-rimmedeyes,whichgaveitabespectacled,intelligentlook.BesidestheProfessor—whomI,however,calledFranziska—wealsohadayellow-crownedAmazonandasunbittern.Thoseareindescribablybeautifulbirds.Whentheyspreadtheirwings,acolorfulfanopensinthespectrumofdazzlingearthcolors.Later,inthejungleofPanguana,Ibenefitedfrommyearlyexperiences.WhenIndiansbroughtmefigparrots,whichtheyhadtakenfromthenestswhenthebirdswereverysmall,Imanagedtoraisethem.Inthemanneroftheindigenouspeople,Iprechewedbananasandstuckthemushintotheirbeaks.Inthiswaytheybecameamazinglytame.

TherewerealsorarebirdsnearLima,inaninaccessiblecoverightbythesea.Myparentslikedtogothere.Whiletheypursuedtheirobservations,Iplayedonthebeachandoftengotsunburn.Whichisnowonder,forLimaisonlyafewdegreesoflatitudefromtheequator.Inanycasemydermatologiststillsaystoday:“Yourbackhasdefinitelyseentoomuchsun.”Howrightheis!Inthosedayspeoplewerestillcarefreeaboutsunbathing.Itwassimilarwithfleas.WealwayscarriedaspraycanofDDT—thatwouldbeunthinkabletoday!

Onthisbeachlivedtinycrabs,whichwerecalled“muy-muy.”“Muy”istheSpanishwordfor“many.”Thedoublingofthewordsayssomethingaboutthewaytheywouldappear.Sometimestheycoveredthewholebeach,alongtheshoreline,andifyouwantedtogointhewater,youhadtowalkoverthem

barefoot.Thatfeltreallystrange!ButIwasagirlwhoknewnofearandnodisgustfortheexcessesofnature,andIranasfastasIcouldoverthemandthenplungedintothewater.

BackwhenmyfatherfinallyarrivedinLimaafteranodysseythatlastedyears,hehadinhispocketaletterofrecommendationtothedaughterofanadmiralwhowasacquaintedwithmymaternalgrandfather.Whenheshowedup,completelyragged,atthatdoor,theyatfirstdidn’tevenwanttolethimin.Theletterofrecommendation,however,openednotonlythedoorforhim,butalsotheheartsofthesepeople,wholaterbecamemygodparents.Soitwasthatalongwithourhome—theHumboldtHouse—mygodfather’shousebecameoneofmyfavoriteplacesinLima.MygodfatherandhisfamilywereGermantooandmadeafortuneinPeruinthecottonandpapertrade.WhenmymotherarrivedinLima,thesefaithfulfriendsevenorganizedmyparents’wedding.Uptotheageoffourteen,Ioftenspentvacationsthere.Ilovedthathouse,builtinBauhausstyle,withitsmagicalgarden,swimmingpoolandgoldfishpond,inwhichIlearnedtoswim.InthisgardenIalsosometimesletmytinamous,whichIalwaysbroughtalonginacage,runfree.TothisdayIcanseemyselfwalkingdownthestreetfromtheHumboldtHousetothecoast,thecagewithLittlePillowandLittleChestnutEyeinonehandandmybagintheother.ThehouseisinaprimelocationonthesteepcoastthatdescendsfromthecitytothePacific.Atthetimetherewerenothingbutsuchvillasinthatarea.Thosewholivedtherecouldaffordalargestaff.Butmyparentslivedmuchmoresimplyandpreferreditthatway.Itwasimportanttothemtoremain“down-to-earth.”Butmanyofmyschoolmatesgrewupwithservants.Iftheyhadtosneeze,someofthemimmediatelycalledfortheirmaidsoshewouldbringthemahandkerchiefandaglassofwater.

Whatashockitwaswhenononeofmylatervisits,Ireturnedtotheareaandallaroundmygodfather’shousehigh-riseshadsproutedupoutofthegroundlikegiganticmushrooms!Howminutelytheactuallysizeableandcapacioushousenowcowersintheshadowsofthosearchitecturalgiants!Alltheothervillasweretorndowninthemeantime,soldbytheirearlierownersforlargesums.Onlymygodfather’sdaughtersteadfastlyrefusedtodothesame.Shedidn’tevenchangeherpositionwhenanamusementparkwasbuiltintheimmediatevicinity.Andsoherhouseisapersistentwitnessfromtheyearsofmychildhood,asignofcontinuityinthechangingtimes.

Todaymyparents’house,theHumboldtHouse,isgonetoo.Asineverymetropolisintheworld,theneighborhoodsofLimaoftenchangemorerapidlythanonewouldwish.Thestreetsofmychildhoodarestillquietandsafe—but

whenIfirstdiscoveredthatthehousehaddisappeared,agreatsadnesscameoverme.Thathappenswhenitbecomesacertaintythatfromnowonallyouhaveleftarememories:howtheHumboldtHousewasoftenfullofscientists,whetherornithologists,geologistsorcactusresearchers.Theycamefromallover,fromSwitzerland,Germany,theUnitedStates,Australia.Eachofthethreeguestroomshaditsownbathroom,andforallthevisitingresearcherstherewasagiganticsharedstudy,alibraryandacommunalkitchen.TheexplorersreceivedsupportfromtheGermanForeignOfficeandtheGermanIbero-AmericaFoundationfoundedin1955,andmyfatherusuallysecuredasortofgrantthroughthePeruvianministryofagriculturefortheon-sitecosts.Whenthescientiststhenwentontheirexpeditions,theycouldstoretheirthingswithus.Whentheyreturned,theyalwayshadalottotellandshow.Thatwasaglorioustimeforme.

Butmyparentsexperiencedhowfragilethishappinesswaswhentheyplannedatwo-monthtriptothejunglelessthanhalfayearaftermybirth.Istayedbehind,welltakencareofbymyauntandmygrandmother.Butonlyeightdaysaftertheirdeparture,anaccidentoccurredinthemountainrainforestontheeasternslopeoftheAndes.Atruckhurledafallentelephonepowerlinethroughtheairwithincrediblespeedand,unfortunately,itknockeddownbothmyparentsandinjuredthemseriously.Myfathersufferednumerouscutsandaconcussion,andbrokeacollarboneandarib.Mymotherinitiallylayunconscious,bleedingheavily.Itturnedoutthatshe’dsufferedaskullfracture.Shewasbedriddenformanyweeksandrecoveredonlyslowly.Latershehadnomemoryoftheaccidentandthetimethatfollowed,andshehadlosthersenseofsmelland,partially,taste.Allherlifeshewasplaguedbyfrequentheadaches.Butonceshehadrecovered,thatdidn’tpreventherfrompursuingherresearchworkagain.“Itwouldhavebeenmuchworse,”shewouldsay,“ifIcouldn’tseeanymore.”

Assoonasitwaspossible,myparentstookmewiththemontheirexpeditions.OftenwewenttothesparsemountainforestofZárate,onthewesternsideoftheAndes.Itwasaveryremote,stillcompletelyunexploredforestwithnumerousnewanimalspecies.Heremymotherdiscoveredanentirelynewbirdgenusandnamedit“Zaratornis.”Becauseitwasapreviouslyunknownvegetationzone,myparentsalsofoundheremanynewplantsandeventrees,whichcreatedastiramongexperts.Istillrememberthoseexcursionsclearly:Firstwedroveagreatdistanceinthecar;thenweclimbedthemountainonfoot—Icanstillfeeltodaytheweightofmysmallbackpack.Wecouldn’tmaketheclimbinoneday,sowehadtospendanightonthemountainside

undertheopensky.Oncewearrivedupintheforest,wewouldthencamp,usuallyforaboutaweek.Myparentskeptsecrettheentrancetothisforest,toprotectitfromplunderers.Ilovedthoseexcursionsandcouldoccupymyselfforhoursinnature,aslittleasIstillwas.

Iwasjusttwoyearsoldwhenmyfathersetoutonamuchfartherjourney:HehadtoreturntoKielandholdafewmandatorylecturesinordertoqualifyasauniversityprofessor.HedepartedonDecember27,1956,ontheshipBärensteinandreachedBremenonJanuary25,1957.BecauseofformaldifficultiesinKiel—aboveall,becausehedidn’tliveinGermany—heultimatelygavehisprofessorial-qualificationlectureinJulyattheuniversityinHamburg.Hereheimmediatelywentonleaveforafewyearsundertheconditionthathewouldholdlecturesafterhisreturn.Hewrotehis“Habilitationsschrift,”thepostdoctoraldissertationrequiredforaprofessorshipinGermany,ontheecologyandbiogeographyoftheforestsonthewesternsideofthePeruvianAndes.

AsifEuropedidn’twanttolethimoutofitsclutchesthistime,hisreturnjourneytoPeruprovedextremelydifficult:FirstheintendedtodepartfromLaRochelleontheReinadelPacífico,whichwasdelayed.AfteralongwaithefoundoutthattheshiphadhitacoralreefandhadtoberepairedinEngland.SohetraveledbacktoParistobookanewpassage,onlytolearntohishorrorthatalltheshipswerealreadybookedupuntiltheendoftheyear.BychancehewasabletogetontheLuciana,whichleftfromCannes.ButtheLucianaonlymadeitasfarastheCanaryIslands,havingsufferedaseriousmechanicalbreakdownontheway.SohehadtolookforanewpassageandfounditonashipnamedAscania,whichbroughthimtoVenezuela,wherehedidn’tarriveuntilSeptember7.AndfromtherehehadtoconquertheremainingthreethousandmilestoLimaonthelandrouteviaBogotáandQuito.ThisodysseymusthaveseemedtomyfatherlikeadéjàvuofhisfirstjourneytoPeru!Buttherewillbemoreonthatlater.

Ihadn’tseenmyfatherforninemonths—nowonderIatfirstcalledhim“UncleDaddy”afterhisreturn!

AnotherpersonwhoisinextricablyconnectedtomychildhoodisAlida,ourformermaid.ShebelongstotheblackminorityinPeruandwaseighteenyearsoldwhenshecametous.Iwasfive.AtthattimeIwasverythinandneverwantedtoeat.LateintheafternoonIcouldstillbeseenstrollingthroughthegardenwithsomethinginmymouth,andmostofthetimeitwastheleftoversfromlunch.TodayAlidaispushingseventy,andwheneverI’minLima,weseeeachother.Wealwayshavealottotalkabout.Weswaprecipes,andatsomepointweturntothepast.

“Doyouremember,”Iaskher,“whenapoisonoussnakeescapedfromthatGermanscientist?Fortunately,youdidn’tknowitwaspoisonous.”

“Yes,”shereplies,rollinghereyes,“butIwastheonewhodiscovereditstrailinthegarden!Atthelastmomentyourfathercaughtitandhaditbroughttothecrazyguyontheship.”

Werememberhowsheallowedmetoroastmarshmallowswithmyschoolmatesovercandleflames,andhownoneotherthanAlwinRahmel,averyclosefriendofourfamily—aGermanbusinessmanwhohaslivedinPeruforoverfiftyyears,hasknownmesinceIwasbornandlendshishelpandsupporttothisday—persuadedmeinarestauranttoorderaquadril.

“Youhadnoideaitwasagiganticsteak,”Alidarecalls,laughing.“Thenitwasservedanditwasbiggerthanyou.”

WhenIcouldn’tsleepbecauseIwasafraidoftheTunshi—orTunchi,asit’ssometimesspelled—alegendaryPeruvianbirdfromthejungle,Alidawouldcomfortme.

“Tunshisonlyliveinthejungle,”shesaid.“HereinLima,there’snoTunshi,farandwide.”

Shecouldnothavesuspectedthatwewouldactuallymoveintothatjungleafewyearslater.ButIneversawTunshis.However,whenIwasnotevenfiveyearsold,Ididseeanangrybull.

Atthattimeweonceagaintookanexcursionintotherainforest.TherelivedPeterWyrwich,aGermancattlerancherwholentmyparentsahand,andnowandthencaughtspecificbirdsandmammalsatthebehestofthenaturalhistorymuseum.Whenwevisited,IrompedaroundwithPeterJr.,hisson.Wehadtostickourlittlenosesintoeverything,whetheritwasmachinesortheanimalsintheirstables.Ineverplayedwithdolls,anyway,andwasalwaysmuchmoreinterestedintechnicalthings.

“Comeon,”Petersaidself-confidentlyoneday,pullingmeintothestable,“nowI’llshowyouhowtomilkthecow.”

Thoughthis“cow”was,infact,ayoungbull,neitherPeternorIhadanyideathatthere’sasmallbutimportantdifferencebetweenfemaleandmaleanimals.WhenPeterpulledhardonthethingonthebullthathetookfortheudder,itreactedextremelycrossly.ThebullkickedmeintheheadandIwentflyingacrossthestable.That’sjustthewayitis:Ifyougrowupwithanimals,yousometimeshavetobeabletotakethingsastheycome.

Ifyouhavezoologistsforparents,it’salsobetternottogetthecreepstooeasily:Oncemyparentsboughtagiganticsharkatthemarket,inwhose

stomachtherewasahumanhand!Itprobablycamefromavictimoftheprisonislandoutonthesea,which,likeAlcatraz,wasnotoriouslyescapeproof.Anyonewhotriedwouldendupinastrongcurrentpullinghimirresistiblyoutintotheopensea:Itwassaidthatnoonehadevermadeittothemainland.Theshark,however,wasnotaman-eater,andthehandwasundoubtedlyconsumedonlyaftertheman’sdeath.Laterthisshark—withoutitscontents—couldbeadmiredinthemuseum.

AslongasIwasn’tinschoolyet,myparentstookmewiththemmostafternoonstothemuseum.There,inthehugehallswiththeirtalldoubledoorsandthemanyspecimensofPeruviananimalsandplants,Iwanderedaround.SometimesIwouldgetalittlescared,especiallyfromthemummiesondisplay,untilthesestrangethingsbecameapartofmylifelikeeverythingelse.

Then,allofasudden,Iwastold:We’regoingtoGermany.Thatwasinthesummerof1960.IwasfiveyearsoldandnowIwouldbegoingforthefirsttimetothecountryofmyancestors.Actually,allthreeofuswantedtotravelacrosstheAtlantic,butsomeonehadtolookaftertheHumboldtHouseanditsguests.Mymotherwantedtomeetwell-knowncolleaguesinEuropeandcomparefindingswiththem,andsinceIcouldn’tstayalonewithmyfatherforfivemonths,shesimplytookmewithher.Iwasreallyexcited,becausethejourneypromisedtobethrilling.FirstwetookaroaringpropellerplanetoGuayaquilinEcuador.FromtherewewentonabananafreighternamedPentheliconviathePanamaCanaltowardHamburg.Iwatchedthebananasbeingloadedattheport—giganticstill-greenbunches.Ifoneofthemhadeventhesmallestyellowspot,theywerejustthrownintothewaterandfishedoutagainbynativeswhocircledthesteamerintheirdugoutcanoes.Thatreallymadeanimpressiononme,becauseathomefoodwasneverjustthrownoutlikethat.

Alongwiththefruitthatwasloaded,animalscameonboard:lizards,hugespidersandsnakes.IthinkIwastheonlypersonwhofoundthatsogreat.Thecrewwasnotatallthrilledaboutit!Whilemymotherwasstillpolishingherlectureinthecabin,Iexploredtheship,gettingonsomeoftheseamen’snerves.IntheAtlantic,wesawwhalesandflyingfish,andIstoodattherailingandwasreallyimpressed.AndIwasimpressedagain,later,afterourarrivalinBerlin.Therelivedmymaternalgrandparentsandmyauntsanduncles.Therewassnow!Anddouble-deckerbuses!Andcrows,atthesightofwhich,totheamusementofourfellowtravelers,Isaid:“Mommy,lookatthevultures!They’resolittlehere!”Allthesethingswerenewtome,andIwasfascinated.

DuringthoseweeksmymothertooktripstoParis,BaselandWarsawto

meetcolleaguesandworkatthefamousmuseumsthere,fortheyhadinterestingbirdskins—thatis,preparedstuffedbirds—fromPeruintheircollections.Whenshewentonthosetrips,sheleftmewithrelatives.AndthenChristmaswasapproaching;andtomygreathorror,Ihadtoparticipateinamusicalasanangel,eventhoughIfoughttoothandnailagainstit.Iwasashychild,andthensuddenlyIwasstandingonastagewithgoldenwingsandeveryonefoundme“cute”!

IsawmyauntCordulaagain,whowasnowworkingasawriterinKiel—andwhowasaghastthatIknewalltheanimalsonlybytheirLatinnames.WhenIsawanowlinapicturebook,Isaid:“Oh,anOtus.”Atthat,myauntturnedindignantlytomymotherandsaid:“Really,Maria,youcan’tdothatwiththelittleone.”ButthosewerethetimesbeforetheanimalsweregivenGermannames;mostofwhichmyparentsdidn’tlike,anyhow,becausetheyfoundthemunsuitableormisleading.

Formymotherthiswasthelasttimeshesawherfather.Hediedunexpectedlysixyearslater,whenIwaselevenyearsold.IwillneverforgethowshakenIwaswhenmymotherclosedherselfinherroomforhoursandweptheartrendingly.OnlyaftersheexplainedtomewhyshewassosaddidIcalmdownagain.Inmyyounglifetherewasnothingworsethanseeingmymothercry.

Shewasakindandgentlepersonandoftenhadtooffsetmyfather’sirasciblecharacter.Eventhoughshewasmarriednotonlytohim,butalsotoscience,shewasinterestedinmanyothersubjects.Asmentionedabove,shewasamongtheleadingornithologistsinSouthAmerica,andtoachievethatrequiredagreatdealofcommitmentandacertainwillingnesstosacrifice.Mymotherhadthosequalities.IonceexperiencedsomethingwithherthatIneverforgot.Wewereinthejungleandobservedasunbitterninitsnest,whilecountlessmosquitoesswarmedaroundus.Iwantedtoswipeatthem,butthenthatsorareandshybirdwouldsurelyhaveflownaway.Mymotherwhisperedtomeverysoftly:“Youmustnotmovenow,evenifyougetstung.”Andsoweremainedinthecloudofmosquitoeswithoutmakingasoundforaquarterofanhour.Mymotheralsosaid:“Ifyouwanttobeabiologist,youhavetolearntosacrifice.”Thissentenceencapsulatesreallywellwhatourresearchworkconsistsof.Sheandmyfathercomplementedeachotherperfectly—aftershedied,hewasneverthesame.Thenhewasonlyhalf.Forme,too,itwasunspeakablyhard,becausemymotherwassimplytornfromusmuchtoosoon.Therewerestillsomanyconversationsforustohave,whichwouldnevercometopass.

Suddenlywehitturbulence.That’snotgoodforme,notgoodatall.ForeventhoughIhavemyfearofanotherplanecrashprettywellundercontrol,theshakingthatseizesourplanenow,highovertheAtlantic,immediatelybringsbackthoseimages.Thenightmareofeveryairplanepassengerreturns:theroaringoftheturbines,whichIhearinmydreamstothisday.Andthatblindinglightoveroneofthewings.Thevoiceofmymother,whichsays…

3WhatILearnedAboutLifeFromMyFather

MyfatherexploringtherainforestofPanguana,1968.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

…“Nowit’sallover!”Mymothersaysthatquitecalmly,almosttonelessly.Ifeelformyhusband’shandnexttomeandforcemyselftoreturnto

thepresent.That’snevereasywhenI’movercomebymemories.Isitreallymyhusband’shandI’mholding?Orisitmymother’shand?

“Don’tworry,”Isaytomyhusband.“It’sonlyabitofturbulence,nothingmore.”

Thenwelookateachotherandcan’thelplaughing.Forit’scleartous,ofcourse:I’mtheonewho’smorescaredthanheis.Butit’seasierformetogivehimthecouragethatIlostforamoment.“Thanksforcomfortingme,”myhusbandsays,squeezingmyhand.OfeverythingIlovesomuchabouthim,hiswonderfulsenseofhumorissometimesthemostimportant.

Andthentheturbulencecalmsdown.Theairplanemovesverypeacefullythroughtheair,andItakeseveraldeepbreaths.

Phew,thatroller-coasterridewentrighttomycore.“Look,”saysmyhusband,pointingoutthewindow.“Thecoastof

Brazil!We’vereachedtheSouthAmericancontinent!”AndI’malreadydistractedandlookoutthewindow.Ialwayswanta

windowseat;thatdidn’tchangeafterthecrash.Onthecontrary,whenIcanseewhatliesbelowme,I’msomewhatcalmer.Andfromthatpointon,Idon’tcomeoutofmyastonishment,eventhoughI’vealreadyexperiencedthisflightsomanytimes.TheapparentendlessnessoftheAtlanticgiveswaytothesameapparentendlessnessoftheAmazonRainForest.Andtodaythevisibilityissogoodthatyoucanseeclearlydifferenttwistsandturnsoftheriversglitteringinthesun.Apartfromthat,themonotonyofthejungleresemblesthemonotonyofthewaves.Eventhecolorisalmostthesame,awashed-outgreenfromthisheight.WhenIfellfromthesky,theapproachingtreetopslookedlikeheadsofbroccoli,denselypacked.ButrightnowIdon’twanttothinkaboutthat.

Instead,ItellmyhusbandhowmuchtimeandeffortitcostmyfathertogettoPeruaftertheendoftheSecondWorldWar.Whenwegroanbecauseourbackshurtandourlegsbecomeheavyafterthetwelve-hourflight,that’snothingatallincomparisontowhatmyfathertookonbackthen.Andifhehadn’tsetoutforanewworld,mylifecertainlywouldhavegonecompletelydifferently.

Itallbeganin1947.Myfatherwasayoung,ambitiousbiologistseekingtoachievepioneeringworkinthefieldofecologyandzoogeography,andwasthereforeinterestedinlandswiththehighestpossiblebiodiversity.SouthAmericawasapossibility,butalsoSriLanka.Practical-mindedashewas,hewrotealettertotheuniversityinLima—inGerman,becausehehadnotyet

masteredSpanish.Didtheyhaveanyuseforayoungzoologistwithadoctorate?HewroteasimilarlettertoEcuador.Thatwastwoyearsafterthewar’send.AwholeyearlaterheactuallyreceivedareplyfromthenaturalhistorymuseuminLima,towhichhisletterhadbeenforwarded.Thereplywasassimpleashisquestionhadbeen:Yes,hecouldcome.Theyhadapositionforhim.

Itwasaletterwithconsequences.TravelinpostwarEuropewasadifficultmatter,aboveallforGermans.Therewerenopassports,soitwasimpossibletoreceiveavisa.Thoughmyfatherhadthelonged-forjobinLima,hehadnoideahowhewouldgetthere.Hisuniversitygirlfriend,Maria,whowouldlaterbecomemymother,sharedhisenthusiasmforresearchanddefinitelywantedtoaccompanyhim.Tomygrandmothershesaidresolutely:“I’mgoingtomarrythisman.Himornoone!”Attheendof1947,thetwoofthemgotengaged.WhenmyfatherreceivedtheinvitationtoPeru,itwasaforegoneconclusionforbothofthemthatheshouldaccepttheoffer.Mariawouldsimplyfollowhimlater,assoonasshegotherdoctorate.

WiththeletterfromLimainhispocket,myfatherproceededtotheGermanbranchofaSouthAmericanbank,wherehewasadvisedtotraveltoGenoaandembarkthere.TherewereshipownerswhowouldtakeGermanemigrantswiththemforfree.Somyfatherdecidedtotrythis.Inthemiddleofwinter,hewenttoMittenwald,wherehesoonlearnedthathecouldenterItalyonlyillegally.OnhisfirstattempttoclimbovertheAustrianborderfence,hetookabadfallandhadtobebroughttothehospitalinInnsbruck.Onceherecovered,hedidn’tletthatpreventhimfrommakingasecondattempt.Thistimehesensiblycrawledunderthefence.ThenhetraversedtheAlps,walkingandhitchhiking,andreachedGenoainanadventurousway.HowgreatwashisdisappointmentwhenhefoundoutattheportthatasteamerhadjustcastoffforSouthAmerica.Nooneknewwhenthenextwouldarrive.Therewerenotimetablesinthoseconfusingtimesintheaftermathofthewar.Myfatherwasnotapersonwhowascontenttowait.HetraveledontoRome,wherehemanagedtogetaRedCrosspassport,whichwasissuedbytheVatican.This,hewastold,wouldmakehisjourneyconsiderablyeasier.ButRomewasfullofGermanswhohadalreadybeenwaitingforweeksandmonthstogettoSouthAmerica.MyfatherlearnedthatthechanceswerebetterinNaples,soheheadedsouthonfoot.Onthewayhewasarrestedandwasputinanotoriousprisoncamp.Underthepretextofcheckinghispapers,theItaliansheldhimthereforseveralmonths.Agroupoffellowprisonerseventuallytriedtopersuadehimtoescape.Inparticular,aNorthAfricanyoungmanravedtohimabouthisnativelandandurgedhimtocomealong.Eventhoughmyfatherwasamanofaction,

hedidn’tgetdrawnintothat.Andthatwasagoodthing:Anyonewhobrokeoutwasrapidlycaughtagainandharshlypunished.Butthenamiracleoccurred—aboutwhichhetoldmefondlyandoften.HeprayedallthetimefortheLordtomakethewallsthatenclosedhimcollapse.Andthat’sexactlywhathappened:Inanightofheavyrain,thewallofthecampsimplycrumblednexttohim,andhewasabletoescape.Ofcourse,hispursuerswererightonhisheels,buthewassmarterthantheywere.Insteadofrunningawayasfarashecould,hehidinabushveryclosetothecamp.Hecoveredhimselfwithfernsandstayedthereforanightandaday.Onlywhenthesearchforhimwasabortedasfruitlessdidhecontinuehisescape.Ofcourse,hewasnowmuchmorecarefulandtrekkedmainlyatnight.Duringthedayhehidorknockedonthedoorsoffarmhouses,wherehewastakeninhospitablymostofthetime.Onetime,however,hecametothehouseofabirdhunter.Heandhiswifewereparticularlyfriendlyandsharedtheirmealwithhim.Forthatreasonhegavethesignorahislastobjectofvalue,abrooch.Butwhenhewantedtocontinueonhisjourney,thebirdhuntersaidhewouldneverfindthewayonhisown,anditwouldbebetterifhecamewithhim.Enroutemyfatherrealizedthatthemanintendedtobetrayhim,andhejustbarelymanagedtogethimselftosafety.

Butthatadventurewasfarfromtheendofhisodyssey.InNaples,too,therewasnoship,andsohecontinuedonhiswaytoSicily.InTrapani,therewereindeedfishingcuttersatanchor.Myfatherdidn’thesitatetospeaktoalltheowners,butnonewerewillingtoferryhimtoAfrica.

Ithinkmanypeoplewouldhavelostheartbynow.Butmyfatherwascutfromadifferentcloth.HetoldhimselfthatifhehadfoundnoshipinItalytobringhimtoSouthAmerica,thenhewouldfindoneinSpain.SohetrekkedbackuptheentireItalianbootandheadednorthfromGenoatowardFrance.WhenhefinallyreachedthebordercityofSanRemo,hewastoldthatitwascompletelyimpossibletocrosstheborder.Itwasstillonebigminefield,butmyfatherwasmuchtooresolutetoletthesedangersdeterhim.

OnadarknighthecrossedthemountainsattheborderandwalkedontowardNice.There,forthefirsttimeinalongwhile,hewaspickedupbyacar.InAix-en-Provence,hegotoutandrightatthenextgasstationaskedthedriverofanexpensivecarwhetherhecouldgivehimalift.HerefusedcategoricallywhenheheardmyfatherwasaGerman.Onlyoncethecashierputinagoodwordforhimdidthemantakepityandgivehimalift,afterall.ItturnedoutthatthedriverwasJewish,whichcasthisinitialrefusalinadifferentlight.Whenheheardmyfather’sstory,heevengavehim150francs.Thatwasverylargehearted,becauseatthattimeanyonefoundatacheckpointwithlessthan

onehundredfrancswasarrestedasavagabond.“Someonewhohascomeasfarasyouhave,”saidthemaninparting,“willmakeittoSouthAmericatoo.”

Butitdidn’tlookthatwayatall.WhenmyfatherarrivedinMarseille,hedidn’tfindashipthereeither.RumorhaditthateveryfourorfivemonthsaSouthAmerica-boundsteamerleftfromPortbou.Butmyfatherdidn’twanttowaitthatlong.HedecidedtofollowhisoriginalplanandtramptoSpain.

Againheheardthatthiswasimpossible:ThistimethePyreneesweresaidtobetheendoftheline.Incomparisontothismountainrange,peoplesaid,theAlpswereawalkinthepark.Againmyfatherwasundaunted.Hefollowedtherockycourseofastreamhigherandhigher,untilhefeltfromthewindthataMediterraneanmountainclimatesurroundedhim.He’ddoneit!HewasinSpain.

There,however,hehadtobeespeciallycircumspect.SupportersofthedictatorFranciscoFrancodidn’tthinktwicebeforeputtingillegalforeignersintotheirnotoriouscamps.Onceagain,myfatherhidduringthedayandonlywalkedatnight.

ButinBarcelona,too,therewerenoshipsdepartingforSouthAmerica,andsomyfatherheadedforcentralSpain,alwayskeepinghisdistancefromthecities,stayingascloseaspossibletothemountains.Atonepoint,ashewasrestingunderacarobtreeinacompletelyremotearea,astormbegantogather.Dogshowledinthedistance,andmoreandmoreofthemjoinedin.Ittookalittlewhilebeforemyfatherrealizedthatthesewerewolves,butpeopleposedmoredangertohimthanwildanimalsdid.

InCórdoba,thesmallamountofbaggagehestillhadwasstolen.HeimmediatelycontinuedonhiswaytoSeville.TherehereceivedforthefirsttimeasignthathisdreamofreachingPerumightbecomeareality,afterall.Shortlybeforemyfather’sdeparturefromGermany,mymother’sfamilygavehimsomeadvice:InLima,therewasaconnectiontothedaughterofanadmiralfriend.Heshouldgetintouchwithherifheeverarrivedinthecity.NowhereceivedaletterofrecommendationfromaGermanfamilyinSeville,alsoaddressedtotheadmiral’sdaughter.Tworecommendationstooneandthesameperson—somethingsimplyhadtocomeofthat!

Giventheenormousdistancesmyfatherhadcovereduptothatpoint,thejourneyfromSevilletoCádizwasastone’sthrow.Fromthere,shipsweresupposedtoleaveforPeru.Butonceagain,hearrivedjustafewdaystoolate.AshiphadjuststartedforLimawithGermansonboard.Inhisdespairmyfathertoldeveryoneabouthissituation.AsupporterofGeneralFranco’sthenconnectedhimtoanorganizationthathelpedGermansleavingEuropeforpoliticalreasons.Thatwasnotatallthecasewithmyfather.Perhapshewould

havegraspedatthisstraw,ifithadnotquicklyturnedouttobeawasteoftimeandeffort.Thereweremanyemptypromises,butnoactions.Andtherewereconstantlynewrumors.InatownnamedSanFernando,henowheard,ashipwouldbecastingoffforUruguayinashorttime.ThatwouldatleastbeSouthAmerica,somyfatherhurriedtothesmallporttown.TherehemetamasonwhoalsowantedtocrosstheAtlantic.Togethertheyfoundtheship.Itwasasaltship,anditreallywasabouttodepart.Thetwoofthemdidn’tthinktwicebeforestowingawayonboard.Theymadetheirwaytothecargohold,tiedhandkerchiefsovertheirfaces,jumpedintothesaltandburrowedintoitaswellastheycould.AfteranendlessodysseymyfatherwasfinallyaboardashipheadingforSouthAmerica—asanillegalpassenger,buriedinseveraltonsofsalt.

Forfourdaystheystuckitout.Roughseascausedtheshiptorollandpitch;thesunburneddown;thesaltpenetratedalltheirpores;unbearablethirsttormentedthem—andfinallythemasonpanicked.Hewantedonlyonething:out!MyfatherfiguredoutthattheshipmusthavebeenonlyjustlevelwiththeCanaryIslandsandimploredhisfellowtravelertopullhimselftogetheralittlebitlonger.Justonemoreday!Buthiscompanionnolongerhadthestrengthforthat.Sotheyrevealedthemselvesandwerepromptlyarrested.WhentheshipreachedTenerife,theywereputinprisoninitscapital,SantaCruz.NowmyfatherfacedthethreatoftransportbacktoSpainandalonginternmentinacampthere.However,hewouldgetlucky.Afterfourteendaysofdetention,hewassuddenlyreleasedandswiftlyfoundpassageonashipboundforRecifeinBrazil.Therehewentashoreafewweekslater.

FinallyhewasinSouthAmerica—eventhoughhewasonthewrongsideofthebroadestpartofthecontinent.Butstill:“ColumbuscannothaverejoicedmorethanIdiduponsettingfootinAmerica,”myfathersaid.Bynow,healreadyhadbeenonthemoveforayear.HowcouldhehavesuspectedthatitwouldtakealmostjustaslongtoreachthecapitalofPeru?

Andyethisplanwasquitesimple:Asanexperiencedwalker,heshouldbeabletoconquerthethreethousandmilestoPeru,hethought.Partofthejourneyhecouldevencoverbytrain.Ofcourse,everyonetoldhimonceagainthatitwasutterlyimpossibletotraverseBrazilinthisway.And,ofcourse,myfatherdidn’tletthatdeterhimonebit.Hesetoff,atfirstthroughendlessplantationlandscapesfullofsugarcaneandbananas.ThencametheCaatinga,afour-hundred-mile-widethornbushsavanna,whichhehadtocrossonfoot.

Wheneverhecametovillages,hewasanattraction.AndmyfatherwasquicklyinfectedbytheBrazilians’enjoymentoflife.“Itwasalwaysfun,”he

recountedlater.Afteranotherfive-hundred-miletrek,hefinallyreachedcentralBrazil.Whenhelaterlookedbackonthisenormousfeatofwalking,heremarked:“OngooddaysIwalkedtwenty-fivemiles.Onworsedaysitwasaroundtwenty.”

Lookingdownonthisvastexpansetodayfrommywindowseat,Icanscarcelyimaginehowitwaspossibleformyfathertocoverthatdistanceonfoot.NowweareflyingovertheAmazon,nearManaus.Theriver,withitsmanybranchingveins,shimmersmajesticallyinthesun.Wecanseeclearlyitschocolatebrownwater;shortlythereafterweareflyingoverblack-waterrivers—oneofwhich,thelargest,mustbetheRíoNegro.

Myfatherwalked,unwaveringlyfocusedonhisgoal,andthatwasLima.Andhewasn’tjusthiking—hetrekkedandobservedatthesametime!HealreadyknewthewildlifeofSouthAmericafromhisstudies.Buthere,onremotepathsthroughsavannaandjungle,hecouldobservethewayoflifeofmanyspeciesunknowntohim.Hestudiedtheirpredator-preybehavior,discoveredcompetingspeciesandevenfoundtimetokeepadiaryonallthis.Hehadnotroublehandlingtheheat.

Inthemeantimehehadgottenverybrown;andwiththelargestrawhatonhishead,hebarelystuckoutanymoreinmanyvillages.Onlywhenhecametosolitaryfarmsdidheoftencausepanic.Iftheirhusbandsweren’tathome,thewomendroppedeverythingandfledintothejungle.Still,hewastakeninhospitablymostofthetime.Andmyfatherenjoyedhisnewlywonfreedom:Asopposedtotravelinginthewar-ravagedEuropeancountries,herehedidn’thavetohideallthetime.

“IhungmyhammockwhereverIwanted,”helaterenthusedabouthislongmarch.Heoftenpenetratedforeststhatnoonehadeverenteredbefore.Occasionallyhewasthenovercomebysomethinglikedoubtaboutwhetheritwasreallyagoodideatoexposehimselftothesedangers.However,myfatherneverlosthisconfidenceinhimself.Whenpeopleaskedhimwherehewasheaded,heanswered:“ToPeru.”Mostofthemhadneverheardofsuchaland.

Andfinallythedaycame:OnMay15,1950,thebirthdayofhisfiancée,MariavonMikulicz-Radecki,hereachedtheborderofPeru.Andasifthatcoincidencewasnotenough:ExactlyoneandahalfyearshadpassedsincehehadtakenleaveofmymotheronNovember15,1948.FromtheborderhewasabletoflyonamilitaryplanetoLima.ButI’mcertainthatmyfatherwouldnothavebeendeterredfromcrossingonfoottherestofthejungle,aswellastheendlessiceoftheAndes.

Threeyearsafterhehadinquiredaboutajob,twoyearsafterhehad

receivedthereplyfromthenaturalhistorymuseuminLima,myfatherenteredtheofficeofthestunneddirectorthere.Hisanswerwassuccinct:Thejobwasunfortunatelynolongeravailable.Andsoanewodysseybeganformyfather,thatoffindingworkinthePromisedLand.TheGuanoCompany,whichearnedalotofmoneywithfertilizermadeofbirdexcrementfromboobies,cormorants,pelicansandpenguins,wasapotentialemployer.Butwhenmyfatherintroducedhimselfthere,theyhadnouseforhim.ThenhemetthedeanoftheUniversityofSanMarcos,whoproposedtohimaftersomeback-and-forthtomanagethefishsectionofthenaturalhistorymuseum,andaskedwhatmyfatherwantedtobepaid.Probablymyfatherhadneverthoughtaboutthatoveralltheyearsofhislongjourney,forhementionedaridiculouslysmallsum.AndwhilemymotherwascrossingtoLimaontheSouthPacificsteamerAmerigoVespucci,myfatherstartedhisfirstjobinPeruforameagersalary.Nosoonerhadmymotherarrivedthanshe,too,washiredtoworkinthemuseumandlatertookovertheornithologydepartment.Shortlythereaftertheyweremarried:InMiraflores,aparticularlybeautifuldistrictofLima,theysaid“yes”toeachotheronJune24,1950,thesolstice,thedayaftermyfather’sthirty-sixthbirthday.

Ioftenthinkofmyfather’slong,arduousodysseywhenIfindmyselfindangerofbecomingalittledispirited.Orwhentheoldfearsfromthetimeofmycrashareabouttoovercomeme.Thenhisstoryisanillustrationformethatitpaysnottoletthingsgetyoudown.Notmilitaryposts,notmissedboats,notmountainrangesthatmustbecrossed,notthousandsofmilestobecoveredonfoot.“Whenwehavereallyresolvedtoachievesomething,”myfatheroncesaid,“wesucceed.Weonlyhavetowantit,Juliane.”

Hewasright.Afterthecrash,Iwantedtosurvive,andIdidthenearlyimpossible.Afterthat,canyoufaceanythingworse?

Ohyes,youcan.Everychallengepresentsitselfascompletelynew.Justlikeanyoneelse,italwayscostsmeenormousstrengthtotranslatewhatIwantintoaction.TodayIwantwithallmymightforPanguananotonlytoremaininexistencebutalsotobegivenanewform.Iwantmyfather’swishtocometrueforthisarea,inexpandedform,tobedeclaredanaturereserve.That’swhyI’msittingonthisairplane;that’swhyI’movercomingmyfears.Andnow,aftermanyhours,themomenthasalmostcome.Thelandofmychildhoodisalreadybelowme.WehavejustflownovertheborderbetweenBrazilandPeru.Myheartpoundsharder.Onlyaboutanotherhour.AlreadythejungleisgivingwaytothefirstridgesoftheAndes.Oncethey’rebehindus,theplanewillbeginitsfinaldescenttowardLima.Thenthislongflight,too,willcometoagoodend,thankGod.

MyfathershootingphotosintheforestofPanguana,1970.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

4MyLifeinTwoWorlds

AnadventuroustriptoPanguana:wecrossedadamagedbridgeinafour-wheel-driveToyotavehicle,2006.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

Iheaveasighofrelief.Diditagain.Justthroughpassportcontrol,tothebaggageclaim,andthenI’mlookingintofamiliarfacesandbeingferventlyembraced.AlwinRahmel,alongtimefriendofourfamily,insistedthistimeonpersonallypickingmyhusbandandmeupattheairport.

Onthedrivetoourhotel,Itakeinthecity:Limaislively,colorfulandalittlebitloudereachyear.Thatwasalreadythecaseinthepast;yet,incomparisontothosedays,Limatodayisscarcelyrecognizable.Granted,yearsbeforemybirth,myfatheralreadywrotetomymother,beforeshecametoLima,Thiscitycancertainlynotbecalledbeautiful,andyetinmychildhoodithadacharmallitsown.Inthosedaystherewasscarcelyabuildinginthewholecitythatwashigherthanfourstories.InSpanishColonialstyletheywerelinedup,sidebyside,surroundedbytrees.NoweachtimeIarrive,Ifindnewoversizedluxurybuildingswiththeinsigniaofbanks,cardealerships,casinosandhotelsalongthestreetinthecitycenter.Theydifferstarklyfromthecozyneighborhoodsthatmadeupthecityofmychildhood.ThereareplacesandareasIscarcelyrecognize.Heretheroadsystemwaschanged;thereanewhighwaywasbuilt.Idon’tthinkeverythingnewisbad.Forexample,theseparatebuslaneinthemiddlebetweentworoadsIfindverypractical.Treeshaveevenbeenplantedalongit,evenifthey’recurrentlystillsmallandtheirlatermagnificenceisonlyvaguelydiscernible.

Yes,Lima’sstreetsarebusy.One“horapunta,”asrushhouriscalledhere,mergesseamlesslyintothenext.Eventhoughsomuchhaschanged,IfeelasifI’mcominghome.Ilookaroundandbombardourfriendwithmyquestions.WhathaveImissedduringallthetimeIwasinGermany?

Peruremainsacountryfullofcontrasts.That’showitwasinthepast,andlittlehaschangedinthatrespecttothisday.Backthen,Iwasamongtheprivilegedchildren,withoutbeingawareofit.IfsomeonehadaskedmewhethertherearepoorneighborhoodsinLima,Iwouldhaveindignantlydeniedit.TodayIamawarethatmyparentsandI,eventhoughtheyattachedagreatdealofimportancetolivingmodestly,wereamongtherich.MyworldwasMiraflores.Thatwaswheremygodparentslived,anditremainstodayoneofthebetterareasofLima.Meanwhile,Ialsoknowthatinthosedistrictsfarthestfromtheocean,theonesthatascendtheslopestotheCordilleraNegra,manypeopleliveinslums.ItisforthatreasonthatitalwaysstrikesmeasalittleanachronisticwhensomeofmyoldschoolmatesinLimasay:“HowcanyoustanditinGermany?Youdon’tevenhavestaffthere.”Iwinceatsuchstatements,becausetheyignoretheotherhalfofPeru,theextremepovertythatexistsalongsidethiswealth.

AlwinRahmeltellsmeaboutthattoo,andabouttheprogressofhis

charitableworkintheslumsofLima.Childrenoftendon’tgetevenonemealadaythereiftheyaren’tluckyenoughtobeatoneofthefreemealsoftheLimachildcareorganization.Yes,Peruisacountryfullofcontrasts.AndIloveitthewayitis.I’mproudofmyabilityasaGermanandPeruviantounitebothworlds.GermanyisthecountryinwhichIlive—andwhereI’malsoreallyhappytobe.ButI’mboundtoPeruwithmyheart.InGermany,Ilovethatthingsgenerallyworkbetter.InPeru,Ilikethemusic,thewarmthandthehumorofthepeople.AndIlovePeruviancuisine.

Onthisfirsteveningwevisitmyfavoriterestaurant.We’rewarmlywelcomed,asifwewereherejustlastweek,andforamomentIevenimaginethat’sthecase.Everythingisthesameasalways.MylifeinGermanymergesseamlesslyintomyPeruvianexistence,likeonehalfofazipperintotheother.Iorderpapaalahuancaína,whichI’mmadabout.Itispotatoesinaspicycheesesauce.HowoftenI’vetriedtocookthisinMunich;butbecausetherightcheeseandtheyellowAjípeppersforthesaucearesimplynotavailableinGermany,itdoesn’tworkoutsowell.Itjusttastesbetterhere,Iadmittomyselfwithasigh,andletthesaucemeltonmytongue.InPeru,therearearoundfourthousanddifferentknownkindsofpotatoes.Theycomeinwhite,yellow,red,brown,purpleandalltheshadesinbetween.Myhusbandchoosesachupe,oneofthedeliciousstewsthatefficientlywarmyouup,becausethiseveningit’salsoperceptiblychillyinLima.Once,manyyearsago,IreadanarticleinaGermanmagazineheadlinedFIRST-RATECLIMATEINLIMA,butIwasafraidthattheeditorfellunderthespellofthetriplerhymeinGerman,PRIMAKLIMAINLIMA,fortheLimaclimateisanythingbutfirst-rate.Mostdaysoftheyear,theskyisovercast,it’softenfoggy,andattimesthedampcoolnesscreepsintoyourbones.That’sduetotheHumboldtCurrentflowingpast,nearby,comingcoldfromtheAntarctictomeettheotherwisewarmsea,thusensuringafairamountof“steam.”

Thedifferentlandscapeformsarealsoextremeinthiscountry:Thedesertrunsfromnorthtosouthalongthecoast;itisfollowedbytheAndes,withtheirmightymountainrangesandhighplateaus;andfinally,ontheireastside,theAmazonRainForest.Asaresultofthegreatdifferencebetweenthecoastandrainforest,oursuitcasesalwayscontaintwosortsofclothing:warmerclothesforLimaandmidsummerclothesfortherainforest.

Thedifferenthabitatsofthecoast,mountainsandrainforesteachholdveryparticularfloraandfauna,whichIoftenhadtheopportunitytomarvelatonmytripsintothejunglewithmyparents.Yes,andthesejourneyslastingseveraldaysfromLimaovertheAndesintotherainforestareamongmymost

wonderfulandrichestchildhoodmemories:InLima,wewouldusuallytakeabusrunbythecompany“LaPerlade

losAndes.”Thebaggagewouldbetiedtotheroof,andthenafewboyswouldclimbup,whosejobwastomakesureduringtheentiredriveoverthemountainsthatnothingfelldownorgotstolen.Thebaggageguardsworkingforthecompetingcompany,LeóndeHuánuco,mighthavebeenbetter,becausethatbuslinewasfamousforitsreliability.ButIwasnotyetatanagewherethatconcernedme.Iwouldlookoutthewindow,forshortlyafterleavingLima,youalreadybeganrapidlygainingaltitude.Still,thetriptookovereighthoursbeforeyoureachedtheTicliomountainpass.Itselevationis15,800feet,andyetit’sstillthelowestpassofthecentralandsouthernAndes!Formostpassengers,thatwashighenough—ifyoucouldn’tholdittogether,yousufferedterriblyfromaltitudesickness.Once,sittingnexttome,therewasawomaninanadvancedstageofpregnancywhocontinuallyhadtovomit.

Thehigheryouget,thesparserthealreadyscantyvegetationbecomes.Still,therearefrequentvillagestowhichtheroadsnakesupwardinendlessswitchbacks.OntheTiclio,there’ssnowonthegroundallyear;andveryclosetothepass,thoughit’shardtobelieve,there’sactuallyatown.It’scalledLaOroya,anditisoccupiedbyminers.Itisableakplace,acollectionofmiserablehutswithcoloredcorrugatedmetalroofs.Duringthedayit’scold,andatnightit’sstillcolder,inawaythatgoesstraightintoyourbones.NowondertheIndiansoftheHighAndesalwayswearheavyclothing.Whenit’spossible,theysleepwithkithandkinandallthelivestockinasingleroom.Andornithologistsevenfindhummingbirdsuptherethatgointoatorporatnight,asortofnocturnalhibernation,byloweringtheirmetabolisminordertoprotectthemselvesfromtheicycold.SomewhatlowerdownyoucomeacrossPeruvianpeppertreesgrowingwild,onwhichwhatweknowaspinkpeppercornthrives,aswellasothersparsetrees.Onlyonceyou’vecrossedtheTicliodoesthevegetationgraduallyreturn.Yourgazeisdrawndownwardintotherivervalleys,whicharegreenandfertile.

It’salongjourney:FirstyougoovertheCordilleraNegra,whichiscoveredwithlichensandalgae,givingthemountainsadarkcolor.Thencomesthenextmountainrange,theCordilleraBlanca.FartherinthenorthofPeru,glorioussnow-coveredtwenty-thousand-footpeaksrisefromit,anditconnectstotheAltiplano,anextensivehighplainwiththePunagrassland,coveredwithapricklyyellowplant.Heretherearesomegorgeouslakes,whichatcertaintimesarepopulatedbyflamingoes.ThecolorsofthisbirdwentintothePeruviannationalflag.Accordingtothelegendthatmymothertoldme,JoséSanMartín,

whenheproclaimedtherepublicofPeru,wasatonepointlyingonthebeachandresting.Thenhesawaflamingoabovehim,andtheredandwhiteofthebirdinspiredthecolorsoftheflag.Thecoatofarmsalsodepictsthevicuña,awildvarietyofcamel.ItswoolisevenfinerandsofterthanbabyalpacaandwasoncereservedfortheIncakings.Nexttothevicuñaisapictureofaquinatree,whichsymbolizesPeru’srichflora.There’salsoacornucopiawithcoinspouringfromit.Ultimately,fromallitsmineralresources,Peruisamongtherichestcountriesintheworld.

AftertheTiclio,wewouldsoonreachtheAltiplano,andthenhourswouldpassatanaltitudebetweenthirteenandsixteenthousandfeet.Here,too,youcomeuponatmostaminingtown,wherecopper,wolfram,bismuthandsilveraremined.FinallywewouldbegoingdownhillagainandwouldsoonstopoffinHuánuco,anoldSpanishcolonialcityinoneofthemostfertilerivervalleys.Itliesatanelevationofaboutsixthousandfeet—sobyAndeanstandardsonthelowerendofthespectrum.

Onmyfirsttripswewouldalwaysspendthenightnearhere,fortheroadtowardTingoMaríabecamesonarrowthatitcouldbeusedonlyinone-waytraffic.Spendingthenightmeantyoustayedinthebus,orelseitcoulddriveonwithoutyou.

NextcomesastretchoflandknownastheCordilleraAzul.It’sdenselywoodedandhencegivesoffabluishshimmerfromadistance.BythetimeyoufinallyreachTingoMaría—well,thenanothereight-hourbusridetoPucallpaliesaheadofyou.

Onthewaymymotherwouldalwaystellmewhichbirdscouldbefoundwhere:InthecloudforestoftheCordilleraAzul,rightatthewaterdivideLaDivisoria,therewerethegloriousorange-redcocksoftherock.OnahilloutsideofTingoMaría,inacavecalledtheCuevadelasLechuzas,dwelledoilbirds,knowninPeruasguácharos.Theywerenightjars,mymothertaughtme,whichorientthemselvesinthedarkwithaprimitiveecholocationandwhosebodyfatfindsauseaslampoil—hencetheirname.Forthenextcouplehundredmiles,Ithenhadsomethingtothinkabout.

TwodaysandanightaftersettingoffinLima,wewouldfinallyreachPucallpa,atthetimearealsmallpioneertown.Itwassurroundedbyfarmland,andthefarmland,inturn,byjungle.Herewecouldstockuponeverythingwewouldneedinthejungle:basicfoodstuffslikesugar,lard,oilandflour.Afterthat,togettoTournavista,thenextlegofourjourney,therewereonlytwopossibilities:eitheraboatoranoff-roadvehicleoverwildpathsthroughtheforest.Thatwasalsoonlypossibleduringthedryseason.Otherwise,theroads

turnedintomudholes.Mostofthetimewewouldtaketheboat.OntheUcayaliitwouldbringustothemouthoftheRíoPachitea.FromtherewewouldheaduprivertoTournavista.TheTexanfamilyLeTourneaugavethisjunglevillageitsname.Herewewouldspendthenightwithacquaintances,sleepingonthefloor,andthenlookforanewboatforthecontinuationofourjourney.Tothisdayeverythinginthejungleistransportedviatherivers—people,animals,baggage,allsortsofcargo.Fortwomoredayswewouldchugupriver.

Atnightwewouldsleepwrappedinwoolblanketsonasandbank,andthenextmorningthejourneywouldcontinue.NotuntileveningontheseconddaydidwecometothemouthoftheYuyapichis,wherePanguanais.Theriver’snamecomesfromtheoldIncalanguageQuechuaandmeans“lyingriver,”becauseitcansometimesbesodeceptive.Atagivenmomentitmayseemtobeatranquil,leisurelylittleriver,butwithinafewhours,itcanturnintoaragingtorrent—dependingontheprecipitationinthenearbySiraMountainRange,wheretheYuyapichisoriginates.

Onourjourneytherewewouldgothroughnotoriousrapids,inwhichyoucouldcapsizeiftheboatmanwasn’texperienced.Duringthewholetrip,mymotherneverclosedevenoneeye.Shedidn’twanttomissanything,andtherereallywasplentytosee:Onceabrocketdeerswamthroughtheriver,thencaimans,atypeofSouthAmericanalligator,andsnakesagain.Mymotherkeptpointingintothewaterandsayingthingslike:“Look,Juliane.There’sabushmaster—oneofthemostpoisonoussnakesintheworld.They’reveryaggressive.Youhavetobeonyourguardagainstthem.”

ThenthemouthoftheYuyapichiswouldfinallycomeintoview.Herewewentashoreandhadtomakeourwaythroughthreemoremilesofuntouchedprimaryrainforest.Itwasanastypath,fullofclimbingplantsthatwerealmostashighasIwastall.Thegroundconsistedofdeepmudorslipperylaterite,whichinheavyraintookonthetractionofasheetofice.Oncewe’dgottenthroughthisarea—aweekafterthedeparturefromLima—wewouldfinallyreachtheYuyapichisagain,ontheothersideofwhichwasPanguana.Mymotherwouldblowapolicewhistle,andmyfatherwouldcomeacrosswiththedugoutcanoetopickusup.Welcomehome!

ButI’mgettingawayfrommyself.Mythoughtsarejumpingoffcoursefrommystoryagain.FortheyrevolveincessantlyaroundPanguana,theresearchstationmyparentswouldfoundin1968,whichbecamemyhomeformanyyears.AsIlookovertheparkinMiraflores,tired,fullandhappytofinallybehere,asIgooverourscheduleforthenexttwodayswithAlwinandmyhusband,which

couldn’tbetighter—numerousvisitstotheauthoritiesareontheagenda,ameetingwithourlawyertofinallybringourcauseadecisivestepforward—aswesavoradessertonthehouse,mythoughtsrevolvearoundPanguana.AndIadmit:AsmuchasIenjoybeinginLima,Ican’twaittobeinmybelovedjungleagain.

No.Formeitwasandisnogreenhell.Itispartofmelikemyloveofmyhusband,liketherhythmsofcumbia,whichareinmyblood,likethescarsthatIstillhavefromtheplanecrash.ThejungleisthereasonIgetonairplanesagainandagain,andforitI’mevenwillingtograpplewiththeauthorities.

ThePeruvianwordforbureaucracyis“burocracia,”andmanysaywithasmile:“burrocracia”—whichcontainstheSpanishword“burro,”the“ass.”Andthat’snoaccident.HereintheAndeancountry,anapathysometimesprevailsthatcandrivemanyaEuropeancrazy.I’malmostafraidI’llbeconfrontedwithitonthistriptoo.WithmygoalofhavingPanguanadeclaredanaturereserve,Iultimatelyhaveagreatdealtosortoutwithofficialsandauthorities.IspeakaboutthatwithourfriendAlwinRahmel.Asalwayshehelpsmefightmywaythroughtheonly“jungle”Itrulysometimesfear:thatoftheburrocracia.

Finallywegetgoing.We’retiredfromthelongjourney.Westillhavetogetusedtothetimedifference.

Whenwearriveatthehotel,Alwinsuddenlypauses.“Didyounoticethat?”heasksme.MyhusbandandIlookateachotherquestioningly.WhatdoesAlwin

mean?“Thatwasasmallearthtremor.”Right.Analmostimperceptiblejolt.Theneverything’sthesameas

before.Itwasasiftherewasatearintimeforatinymoment.“Butthatwasnothingatall,”Alwinimmediatelyreassuresme.ButI’vebeenusedtoitfromanearlyage.ForonthePeruviancoast

twotectonicplatesgrindagainsteachother,andasaresultthereareconstantlyrecurringearthquakes.Suchaquakeisafrighteningexperience.Firstyouhearasoundthatcannotbeintegratedintoourrealmofexperience.“Theearthgrumbles,”wesay,anditcanscarcelybeputbetterthanthat.Whenitthenbeginstotremble,youbecomedisoriented.That’sbecauseoursensescannotcopewiththissuspensionoftheestablishedphysicalrules.RepeatedearthquakesandseaquakesbesetotherSouthAmericancountriestoo.JustrecentlyPeru’sneighboringcountryChilewashithardbyone.

Irememberwelltwoparticularlyviolentquakes.Onetookplacein1967,whenIwasthirteenyearsold.Iwashomealoneandcleaningmyboxofwatercolorswhenitbegan.Firsttherewasanintenseverticalmovement,thegroundroseandsank,judderingundermyfeet.Thatwasalreadyalarmingenough.Butthentheearthwentintolurchingmovements,thegroundvirtuallyswungsideways,andthatwasespeciallyterrible.Peoplepanicked;Iheardthemrunningandscreaminginthestreet,andIwastemptedtodothesame.IrealizedthatIwasalone.Tobeconfrontedwiththisforceofnatureallonmyownwasreallyaspecialexperience.Insteadofrunninginthestreet,Iremindedmyselfofwhatmyparentshadimpressedonmeforsuchsituations:Itwasbettertostayinthehouseandgetunderadoorframe.There,wheretheceilingissupported,you’remuchsaferthanintheopenstreet,wherearooftileoracollapsingwallmightstrikeyoudead.Thatquakehadamagnitudeof6.8andlastedforquiteawhile.Luckily,notmuchhappenedinourarea,andIescapedwithnomorethanascare.

WhenIwasbetweentheagesofeightandtwelve,myparentswentonseveralexpeditionstoYungay,asmalltowninoneofthemostbeautifulareasoftheCordilleraBlanca,andtheyoftentookmewiththem.WecampedinafamousvalleynamedCallejóndeHuaylas.Icanstillrememberwelltheice-coldwateroftheglaciallakeinwhichIhadtowashmyselfandthegloriouscolorsofthesunsetonthesnow-coveredslopesofthenearbytwenty-thousand-footmountains.Thereweremassiverocksinbizarreformations,andamongthemwasonethatIespeciallyliked.Itlookedlikeagiganticmatchboxsetupright,soInameditthe“matchboxrock.”Therewereplantsgrowingontopofit,andthatmadeastrongimpressiononme.

In1970,thisareawasbesetbyapowerfulnaturaldisaster.A7-magnitudeearthquakecausedalargepieceoftheglaciertobreakoff.Itfelltowardthevalleyintothelake,whichburstitsbanks.Giganticmudslidescompletelysubmergedseveraltowns.InthesmalltownofYungay,onlythetopsofthepalmsonthePlazadeArmasjuttedoutofthedesertofmud.Alltheresidentswereburiedundertheavalanches,exceptoneschoolclassanditsteacher,whohadbeenonanexcursiontothehigher-upcemeteryatthetimeofthedisaster.Whentheearthquakeoccurred,myparentsandIwerealreadylivinginPanguana,farawayinthejungle,andeventhereitcouldstillbefeltperceptiblyenoughthatthebirdsflewupinfrightfromthetrees.TenyearslaterIwouldgotothatareawithfellowstudents,andoneofthetownswasstillcompletelyburied.

Wesaygood-byetoAlwin,whoclearlyregretshavingremindedmeofthedangersofanearthquake.AshorttimelaterIseethefamiliarsignsinthehotelthatindicatetheplaceswhereyoushouldstayincaseofatremor.ForanyonewholivesinPeru,thisphenomenon,too,becomespartofeverydaylife.

I,too,grewupwiththefactthatnothingisreallysafe,noteventhesolidgroundunderyourownfeet.AndIfindthatthisknowledgehelpsmeagainandagaintokeepacoolheadevenindifficultsituations.Maybethat’sanotherreasonIsurvivedthenightmareaftertheplanecrash,becausefromanearlyageIwasusedtothefactthatunusualthingscouldhappen—whetheritwasapoisonoussnakecreepingthroughthegardeninthecityofLima,orwakingupinthemiddleofthenighttofindthebedwobblingasifevilspiritswereshakingit.

Fortunately,thatisnotthecasetonight.Tired,wesinkintoourpillows.HowhappyIamtobebackhere.AndyetIwouldn’tliketolivehereallthetime.Ienjoybeingathomeinbothworlds,evenifit’sdifficultattimesandIoccasionallyalmostburstwithlongingforthecountryI’mnotinatthemoment.

Butallthisisbalancedbythechancetoexpandmyownhorizonconstantly.Idon’tmeanonlythewealthofexperience.No,I’mspeakingoftheinner,emotionalhorizon.Iwasalwayssomeonewhopreferredtogatherinformationfirsthand.Andthat’sonlypossibleon-site,inclosecontactwithpeoplewholivethere.IthinkthatbenefitsmyworkinGermanytoo.IfeelprivilegedtobeabletoworkintheBavarianStateCollectionofZoology.Ivaluemycolleagues.Wearemorethanacommunityofscientists;wearelikeafamily.Icanjustifiablysay:I’mverycontentwithmylife.Isn’tthatstrange?Aftereverythingthat’shappened?WhenIactuallyshouldn’tevenbehere?Mymother’slastwordsstillringinmyears.Thememorycomesovermeeverywhere,withoutwarning,onanairplane,inanelevator,inadream.ThenIhearmymothersay:“Now…

5HowIBecameaJungleGirl

Thevegetationisimpenetrableneartheriverside,2010.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

…it’sallover!”Withajoltthetipoftheairplanefallssteeplydownward.EventhoughI’minawindowseatallthewayintheback,Icanseethewholeaisletothecockpit,whichisbelowme.Thephysicallawshavebeensuspended;it’slikeanearthquake.No,itisworse.Becausenowwe’reracingdownward.We’refalling.Peoplearescreaminginpanic,shrillcriesforhelp;theroaroftheplummetingturbines,whichIwillhearagainandagaininmydreams,engulfsme.Andthere,overeverything,clearasglass,mymother’svoice:“Nowit’sallover!”

Everythingwouldhaveturnedoutdifferentlyifmyparentshadn’tdecidedtorelocatetheirworkplacefromthecityofLimatothemiddleofthejungle.Theywantedtostudyon-sitethediversityofthefloraandfaunaintheAmazonRainForest,whichatthetimewaspracticallyunknown.Theywantedtoliveforfiveyearsinimmediateproximitytotheirresearchfield.AndatsomepointthereaftertheywantedtoreturntoGermany.

Iwasfourteenwhenmyparentsputthisplanintoaction.AtthetimeIwaslessthanthrilledbytheideaoflivinginthejunglefromthatpointon.Iimaginedsittingalldayinthegloomundertalltrees,whosedensecanopyofleavesdidn’tletthroughasinglerayofsunlight.IthoughtwistfullyofleavingbehindallmyschoolmatesinLima.Theyalllookedatmepityingly,fornoneofthemcouldimaginelivinginthemiddleofthejungle.Mostofthemhadneverevensetfootinit.NotthatIwasafraid—Iknewthejunglealreadyfromexcursionswithmyparents.Buttotaketripsthereandtomovetherewiththewholekitandcaboodlearenotthesamething.Attheageoffourteenyouhaveotherthingsinmindbesideslivinginthewild.

Ourdeparturewasdelayed.Myfatherhadbeenworkingforseveralyearsonamajorandambitiousproject,amultivolumeworkonthelife-formsofanimalsandplants,whichhewasdeterminedtofinishbeforethemovetothejungle.Mymother,whowasfantasticatdrawing,amasteratsketchinganimalsperfectlyinanymovement,wouldcontributethesixhundredillustrationsforit.Theybothworkedfeverishly.Thatwasallrightwithme;Iwasinnohurrytoleave.ButwehadalreadygivenuptheHumboldtHouseandhadtomoveforafewmonthsintoasmall,expensivetemporaryapartmentdirectlyoveraloudthoroughfareuntilwecouldfinallygetgoing.

Soitturnedintoalonggoodbyefromthecity,whichworeonmyparents’nerves.Aboveallmyfatherwascompletelybeat,andhismoodoftentense.

TheclosingdownoftheHumboldtHouse,inwhichmyparentshad

livedforabouttwentyyearsalltold,wasaprolongedtask.Howmuchstuffhadamassedinthecourseoftime!Inmyparents’largestudy,allkindsofthingsweresortedoutforweeks—no,months.Somethingswerethrownout,andwhattheywantedtokeepwaspacked.Nolessthantwohundredboxeswerefilledinthisway.But,ofcourse,myparentswerefarfromableorwillingtotakeeverythingwiththemintothejungle.Sotheydevelopedanelaboratesystemtodeterminewhattheywouldstoreorloan,andwhereitwouldgo.

Istillrememberwellthoseweeksfulloffeverishactivity.Alongsidetheirusualwork,myparentspackedcartons.Myfatherbuiltoneboxafteranother;mymothermadedetailedlistsoftheircontents.“Withouttheselists,”shesaidtomeoften,“we’relost,Juliane.It’stheonlywaywe’lleverfindanythingagain.”

InDecember1967,thefirstmovingvandrovetothemuseum,whichmyparentswerelendingfurnitureforaguestroomandwheretheywerepermittedtostorealotofboxes.AtmyrequestwecelebratedourlastChristmasintheHumboldtHouseinanalmost-emptydwelling.Onlythelivingroomremainedforus,whereweexchangedgiftsunderanespeciallybeautifulChristmastree.Wefilledmygodfather’scellarwithsomeofourboxes,andanotherfamilywithwhomwewerefriendlyalsoofferedtostoreaboutfiftycartonsforus.Andstill,thesmalltemporaryapartmentwascompletelyfull.

And,asisoftenthecasewithsuchabigstep,ouractualdeparturewouldbedelayedforanotherhalfayear.Thereweresomanythingsmyparentsstillhadtostraightenout,somanyprojectstocomplete.Finally,allourremainingbaggage,alongwithLoboandmyparakeet,Florian,waspackedonthebedofarentedtruck,andonJuly9,1968,thejourneybegan.

IsatwithmyGermanshepherdonthetruckbedunderablanketandwatchedaswegainedaltitude,andLima,myfriends,myschoolmates,Alidaandmygodparents—alongwithallmychildhoodmemories—wereleftbehindforgood.Isensedthatthiswouldbeadecisivebreakinmylife,butIwastooyoungtofathomwhatitreallymeant.Inmyveinsflowedthesameadventurousbloodasinmyparents’.Nowthatallthehustleandbustleofmovingoutandpackingupwasfinallyover,Iwaslookingforwardtowhatlayaheadofme:firstofallthetrip,aboutwhichIalreadyknewthatitwouldtakemanydays.

Upwardwewentoncurvyroads,whichwereoccasionallysonarrowthatwehadtoworrymorethanoncethatthetruck,alongwithitsheavyload,wouldslideofftheedgeovertheabyss.Wheneveningcame,wewerealreadyintheHighAndes,notfarfromtheTiclioPass,andhereweallspentthenightonthetruckatanaltitudeofaboutthirteenthousandfeet.Inalettertomy

grandmotherandmyaunt,Ilaterwrote:Itwasprettycold.Lobosatonthetruckandwasreallyfrightened.Florian(myparakeet)wasn’tdoingespeciallywell.Hegotseasickfromtherockingofthetruck,andthereweretimesIthoughthewoulddie.Hewasprobablysufferingnotonlyfromseasickness,butalsofromaltitudesickness.

OntheseconddaywecrossedtheTiclioPass,andthejourneywentonoverseveralpassestoTingoMaría.Heretheroadconditionsgotworseandworse,andtheydidn’tgetanybetterwhentherainstartedpeltingdown.Eventuallywecouldn’tgoonanymore,foraroadconstructionmachinestuckinthemudblockedourway.Weweren’ttheonlyones.Behindusmoretruckswerejammedup,andwehadnochoicebuttoparkandspendthenightrightthere.Istillrememberwellhowworriedmyparentswere,fortheconstantraincouldeasilycauselandslides.Wehadtobeafraidofeitherslidingdownthemountainourselves,alongwiththeroad,orhavinganavalanchecomedownonourheads.Luckily,neitherofthosethingsoccurred,andthenextmorningtheroadconstructionmachinewassuccessfullypulledoutofthemud.Theroadwasunobstructedagain.ThatdaywemadeittojustoutsideofPucallpa,andsowewerealreadyinthemiddleoftherainforest.FromheretoTournavistawasanotherday’sjourney,andthereourtripcametoatemporaryend.

InTournavista,avillagethatwaspartofalargecattlefarm,thefriendlycommunityprovideduswithalargeroominaformerschool.Westackedourboxesagainstthewalluptotheceiling.Herewestayedforaboutamonth.Myparentsfinishedtheirfinalworkontheirbooksandthenplannedhowtoproceed.

Forwhereexactlyinthejungleweweregoingtolivewasstillnotatallclear.MyparentshadheardofaspotonthebankoftheYuyapichiswherethereweresaidtobeafewdilapidatedhuts,andmyfatherwantedtotakealookatthem.MymotherandIstayedbehindinTournavista,whilehesetoffonhisimportantmissiontofindtherightplaceforourhome.

OnthebankoftheRíoPachitea,atthemouthofthesmallerYuyapichisRiver,heaskedforaboatandtwoablemenwhocouldpaddlehimupanddowntheriver.Andthat’showhefound“Moro.”

Moro’sactualnameisCarlosAquilesVásquezMódena,butnoonecallshimthat.EveryoneknowshimasMoro.Itwouldprovetobeafortunatecoincidencethathecrossedpathswithmyfathersoearlyon.OvertheyearsMorohasbecomethebeatingheartofPanguana,withoutwhomtheresearchstationwouldnotexisttoday.Backthen,Moro,justtwentyyearsold,andhisfriendNelsontookmyfatheraroundbyboatonseveralriversintheAmazon

Basin.Theyaresmallandlargechannelsthatruninwidecurvesthroughthejungle.Ifyoudon’tknowyourwayaround,theninashorttimeyou’rehopelesslylost.Atthattimetherewerestillnoboatswithoutboardmotorsonthenarrowerrivers,andpeoplereliedonpolesandpaddlestomakeitupriverandovertherapids.MoroandhisfriendbroughtmyfathertothemouthoftheRíoNegroattheupperreachesoftheYuyapichis.Theywereonthelookoutforanuntouchedareathatcouldbereachedbyboat.

AtPurmaAlta,theywentashoreandhikeddownriver,untiltheycametoafewIndianhuts.Thesewerethedwellingsthatmyparentshadheardabout.ApartfromfourPanguanatinamousbathinginthedustintheshadeofthehuts,theplaceseemedtobedeserted.Myfathersaid:“Thisistherightplace!”Anamewasathisfingertips:Panguana—afterthetinamous.MyfatherandMoroexploredtheforest,andtheylikedwhattheyfound.Thehabitataboundedwithanimals,aboveallbirds,butterfliesandotherinsects.Youmightsayitwasadreamcometrueforanyseriousresearcher.DuetotheexertionsofthelongmarchtoPeru,myfatheratthattimesufferedconstantbackpains.WhenMoronoticedthat,heofferedtohelpbringthebaggageherefromTournavista.Naturally,myfatheragreed.That’showMoroandhisfamilywouldcometooccupyanimportantplaceinourlives.

InTournavista,mymotherandIwerewaitingexpectantlytofindoutwhatnewsmyfatherwouldbringusfromhisscoutingexpeditionthroughthejungle.WherewouldIspendthenextseveralyears?Towhatremoteplaceweremyparentstakingme?Andthenmyfatherreturnedandreported:“I’vefoundtherightplace.I’veevenalreadygivenitaname.”

“Andwhat’sitcalled?”mymotherasked.“Panguana.Whatdoyouthinkofthat?”Ofcourse,mymotherwasexcited.Shebombardedmyfatherwith

questions.Whereexactlywastheplace?Whatwasthestateofthehuts?Whatanimalspecieshadheseen?Soonthetwoofthemwereabsorbedinalivelyconversation.Isighed.Onceagaintheywereinagreement,asalways.OnlyIwasworried.Theplacewassecluded,thatmuchIhadalreadyunderstood.Anditwouldagaintakeseveraldaysbeforewefinallyarrivedthere.Itriedtofigureouthowmanydays’journeywouldthenseparatemefromLima.AtthetimeIcouldnothaveimaginedthatIwouldtakethatjourneysomanytimesoveralltheseyears.

Soonwesetoff.ThetripontheRíoPachiteatookthreedays.Onenightwesleptonasandbank,andthesecondontheboat.Therewereseveralrapids,andonealmostcapsizedusshortlybeforeourdestination.Finallywereached

themouthoftheYuyapichis,wherewecouldspendthenightwithMoro’sgrandparentsontheir“fundo”—whatcattleranchesarecalledinAmazonianPeru.Thenextday,whenwefinallyarrivedatthedilapidatedhutsafteragruelingmarchthroughdenseprimaryforest,mydespondencyturnedimmediatelyintoexcitement!Panguanawasn’tgloomyatall!Itwasgorgeous,anidyllontheriverwithtreesthatbloomedblazingred.Thereweremango,guavaandcitrusfruits,andovereverythingaglorious150-foot-talllupunatree,alsoknownasakapok,whichisstilltheemblemoftheresearchstationtoday.

FromthebeginningIreallylikedbeinginPanguana.Ontheveryfirstday,ImetMoro.Ithinkhewasrathersurprisedatthemassiveamountofboxesandsuitcaseswehadwithus.Ittookmonthsbeforewewereabletobringeverything,littlebylittle,fromTournavista.Nowthemeticulouslistsprovedtobeablessing.Asweunpacked,itturnedoutthatwehadonlythebarenecessitiesinclothing,butallthemoreequipmentforresearch.Morotoldmelaterthatthepeopleintheareawereactuallyabitputoffthatafewgringosshoweduptherejusttoexploretheforest.He,too,wasskepticalatfirst.Butaftermymothershowedhimherbooksanddrawingsandexplainedthescientificsignificanceoftheforesttohim,hewasfiredwithenthusiasm.Morolatertoldme,againandagain,howmyfather’sknowledgeespeciallyimpressedhim.

“Ifabirdwhistledanywhere,”hesaid,“heknewbetterthanwenativeswhatspeciesitbelongedto.”Myfather’sdisciplinealsoreallyimpressedhim.

“Whenhesaidhewouldbedownbytheriverateighto’clockinthemorning,hewasthereateighto’clock,”Moroemphasized.“Notaminuteearlierandnotaminutelater.Ineachhandhecarriedasuitcase,sothathecouldkeephisbalancewalkingonswampypaths.Butonceheactuallycamefiveminuteslate.Thathadneverhappenedbefore,andheapologizedimmediatelyforit.‘Señor,’Iasked,‘whathappened?’forhearrivedwithonlyonerubberboot.Ithadrainedhard,theriverwashigh,andoneofhisbootshadgottenstuckinthemuddyriverbed.Thathadcosthimtimehehadn’tfactoredin.Thebootwasimportanttohim.Luckily,itcouldbesavedlaterduringthedryseason.”

Tothisdaywestillenjoylaughingaboutthisanecdote.BesidesMoro,therewerealsootherlocals,andGermanstoo,who

helpedus.ChristianStapelfeld,fromTournavista,andLionelDíazrepeatedlyarrangedaboatforusandhelpedbringourbelongings,littlebylittle,toPanguana.NicolásLukasevichLozano,knownas“Cuto,”whosemothercamefromIquitosandwhosefatherwasRussian,alsohadlargemotorboatsthatranontheriver.TodayhestilllivesinPuertoInca.Backthen,amongotherthings,

hetransportedthemail.MymotheroftentraveledwithhimtoPucallpaandback.ThentherewasRicardoDávilla,whowasrumoredtohavemanywomenandtohavekilledpeople.HewasagoldseekerontheRíoNegro.And,ofcourse,wemetandcametoloveGrandmaMódena,Moro’sgrandmother,andDoñaJosefaSchuler,whocamefromPozuzo,atownthathadbeenfoundedbyRhinelandersandSouthTiroleans.Herhusband,DonVittorioMódena,wasborninTrient.ThetwoofthemranabeautifulfarmwiththeirfamilydirectlyabovethemouthoftheYuyapichis,whereitflowsintotheRíoPachitea.ThiswaswherewealwayswentashoretostartonourarduousmarchtoPanguana.

HowIlovedtostopoffatDoñaJosefaSchuler’s!Shemadethebestbreadinthewholejungle,whichwascalled“panalemán,”duetoitsorigins,eventhoughsomeingredients—plantainsandcorn—werenotexactlytypicallyGerman.Shewokeupatfourinthemorningtobakethisslightlysweetbread,andIloveditsaromaanditsextraordinarytaste.Wheneverwestoppedby,wewerewarmlywelcomed.Once,DoñaJosefaofferedmyparentsawholeloaf.Tomyhorrortheydeclined,andsaidtheycouldn’tpossiblyacceptit.Ianxiouslyfollowedtheback-and-forth;andwhenthebread,wrappedinacloth,finallyendedupinourbags,afterall,Iheavedasighofrelief.AtDoñaJosefa’s,therewasalsoanotherdelicacy:sweetcream,whichsheskimmedfromthemilkofhercows,ararityinthosehottemperatures.Icanstillseemyselfsittinginfrontofaplateoffriedbananascoveredincream!Latermymothercaughtthebread-bakingvirus.InthejunglemetropolisofPucallpa,shegotholdofsourdough,whichonthehomewardjourneybursttheplasticbaginwhichitwaspackedduetotheintensewarmth.Inourjunglecampweattendedtoitdaily,andsowegotsourdoughbread,whichwasbakedfirstunderabakinglid,thenonaPrimusburnerandlater,whenweweresetupbetter,onatwo-flamekerosenestove.

WhenItalktoMorothesedays,thechangesintherainforestrepeatedlybecomecleartome.Backthen,tilledfieldswerealwaysfarawayfromthefarmsandfromPanguana.Todaythey’vegottendangerouslyclose.WhichisanotherreasontohavePanguanadeclaredanaturereserve.Buttheclimatehaschangedtoo:Thesedaysit’smuchhotterthanitusedtobe.ThenMorolaughsandsaysIcan’ttakepartinalltheworkanymorethewayIdidbackthenasayoungwoman.HeremindsmehowIhelpedwiththecornharvest,breakingtheears,gratingthekernels.Iwasalwaystherefortheslaughtertoo.Iquicklybecamea“junglechild,”andIwasjustascontentthereasmyparents.

Friendswhocametovisitusalwaysremindedmeofthatlater:“Weneversawamarriedcouple,”theysay,“ascompletelyhappyasyourparents

thereinthejungle.”Formanyitwassimplyunbelievablethattwopeoplecouldharmonizesoperfectlywitheachotherandfindtheirlifesofulfilling—andundersuchrestrictedconditions.Butwedidn’tseeitthatway;whatwasmissingincomfortwaseasilymadeupforbythewealthofnaturearoundus.FormyparentsitwasprobablyreallytheShangri-la,whichothersseekalltheirlivesandneverfind:heavenonearth,aplaceofpeaceandharmony,remoteandsublimelybeautiful.Myparentshaddiscovereditforthemselvesandfoundtheirhappinessthere:Panguana,theparadiseontheRíoYuyapichis.

Andme?Ilovedtheselva(astherainforestiscalledinSouthAmerica).ButIlookedforwardtoeachvisittothecity,whereitwasalwaystooloudandtoobusyformyparents.Icouldgotothemovieswithmyfriendsagainordrinkamilkshakewiththeminmyfavoritebar—andwhenwethenreturned,Iwashappytobethe“junglegirl”oncemore.Thatincluded:livingunderoneroofwithvampirebats,avoidingthecaimansintheYuyapichis,polingacrosstheriverwiththedugoutcanoe,carefullyshakingouttherubberbootsinthemorningincaseapoisonousspidershouldhavemadeitselfcomfortableinthemandwatchingoutforthemanysnakes,becausetheforestbackthenreachedrightuptothehouses.Whatmyparentstaughtmeatthattimeaboutlivinginthewildlatersavedmylife.

Inourearlydaysinthejungle,ourhuthadnowalls.Thehousestoodonstilts,notonlybecauseofinsectsandsnakesbutalsosothatitwouldnotbefloodedduringtherainyseason.Soonwehadwallsputin,whichweremadeofpalmwoodplanks,asiscommoninnativehuts.Everythingwasboundtogetherwithlianas,andtheroofwascoveredwithpalmbranches.Thereweretworooms,alargeroneformyparentsandasmalloneforme,alongwithasortofporch,onwhichweateandworked.Atfirst,wesleptinsleepingbagsandonairmattressesonthefloor,whichwasmadeofthehard,thickbarkofapalm.Laterwesleptonnormalbedframeswithmattresses—butwithmosquitonets,forthereweremanyspidersandatnightinsectscoulddropfromtheroof.

Thefoodwasquitesimple.InadditiontothebasicprovisionsandcannedgoodsthatwepurchasedinPucallpaandthebreadmymotherbaked,weboughtrice,beansandcornfromtheneighbors.Wealsogotfishandmeatfromthem—thelatterwhentheyslaughteredpigsorkilledgame,suchasagoutisandpacas,whichareSouthAmericanrodents,andbrocketdeerandpeccaries.SometimeswefishedforourselvesintheRíoYuyapichis.InasmallareaofPanguana,therewasagrovewithbananas,pineapples,guavas,avocadoes,mangoes,lemons,grapefruitsandpapayas—though,ofcourse,itdidnotbearfruityearround.Wealsohadmaniocandpepperplants.

Wepreparedthefoodonalogfireorkerosenestove.Therewasnorefrigerator,sowehadtopreservemeatbysmokingorsaltingit.Wehadnoelectricitybecauseageneratorwouldhavebeentooloudandscaredawaytheanimals.Whenitgotdark,welivedbycandlesandflashlights.ThoughwealsohadabrightPetromaxoillamp,werarelylitit,becauseitsglowattractedtoomanyinsects,whichwouldbuzzaroundusincloudssothatwecouldscarcelybreathe.

Forus,thislifewasnotasuncomfortableasitmightseem.Andwedidnotviewitaspermanent,butratherasalongbutultimatelytemporaryresearchstay.Forentertainmentwelistenedtothenewsormusiconourbattery-poweredradio.Youcouldconnectarecordplayertotheradio,andsometimeswewouldputonclassicalconcertsandsymphoniesbyMozartandBeethoven,whichmyparentsreallyloved.Intheeveningwewouldoftenplaycardsandvariousboardgamestogetherorreadbycandlelight.Myparentswerefondoftellingmeaboutearlierdaysandabouttheirtravels,andmymothermadeupwonderfulanimalstoriesforme.

Withtheneighborswehadcasualbutpleasantrelations.Theyweremostlywhitesettlersormestizos.Thenativeslivingupriver,whobelongedtotheAsháninkapeople,alsopaidusoccasionalvisits.Ididnotspendmuchtimewiththeotherchildreninthevicinity,becausetheywereallmuchyoungerthanIwas.Ontopofthat,thefamilieslivedfarapart,andthepathtothesmallvillageofYuyapichiswasendlesslylongatthetimeandnearlyimpassable.Wealmostneverwentthere.SoIhadnoplaymates,andyetIdidn’treallymissthatbecausemydaysweresofull.

Wehadaregulardailyroutine.Atsixo’clockinthemorning,wewentintotheforest,oftenevenbeforebreakfast,forthatwaswhenthemostwasgoingonforanornithologist.Thatisthehouroftheantbirds,whichfollowthearmyantsontheirmarchesthroughthecountry,becausetheyeattheinsectsflushedbytheants.Myparentshadmadeobservationpathseverywhere,whichtheykeptclearofleavesinanarduousSisypheantasksothatwecouldwalkonthemsoundlessly.That’salsohowIlearnedtolayoutasystemofpathswithafoldingrulerandcompass,toorientmyselfinthedensejungle,determinewaterdividesanduseoldIndianpathsasshortcuts.AsTheseusoncefoundhiswayinthelabyrinthwiththehelpofAriadne’sthread,Igotusedtoscratchingmarkingsintotreeswiththebushwhackersoastofindmywaybackoutofthejungle.

Ialsolearnedtorecognizeeachbirdfromnothingbutitscall.Withataperecorder,antiquebytoday’sstandardsbutstate-of-the-artforthetime,wemaderecordingsthatwerelatertransferredtoaudiocassettes.SometimesIgotto

holdthelargeparabolicmirrorthatreflectedandenhancedthesoundsforthemicrophone.Withitwealsorecordedinsectsorfrogcalls.Ingeneral,thechorusoffrogsinthejungleisanexperienceforthesenses:Sometimesit’ssoloudthatyoucannolongerunderstandyourownwords.That’sthecaseinNovemberandDecember,whenallthefrogslaytheirspawnandtadpoleshatchingreatmultitudes.Thepondsrise,seemingthemselvestobealivingcreature.AndwhentheSouthAmericanbullfrog,thehualo,beginstocroak,theneveryoneknows:Therainyseasoniscoming.Itdoesn’tmatterwhatthemeteorologistsforecast;thehualoknowsbetter.Youcanrely100percentonitscall.Ofcourse,therearealsodry-seasonfrogs,whichcanonlybeheardatthattimeofyear.Theseanimalshaveasenseforwhat’scominganddon’tneedaweatherchart.

ThoughIalreadyhadmyownpetsfromanearlyageinLima,itwasclearthatinthejunglewewouldgetmore.IntheveryfirstyearofmystayinPanguana,neighborsgavemetwoveryyoungblackbirdsthathadfallenoutoftheirnest.InamedthemPinxiandPunkiandfedthemwiththedropper.Thetwofunnybirdsgrewonme,andIwasreallysadwhenPinxidiedoneday.IrejoicedallthemorewhenIgota“newPinxi”forChristmasin1970,asIwrotejoyfullytomygrandmotherinGermany.

AroundthattimeMorogavemealittleagouti,aNewWorldrodentrelatedtotheguineapig.Iusuallykeptitinacage,but,ofcourse,Ialsoletitrunfreeoutsidenowandthen.Ithadbecometameandalwayscamebacktome.Ononeoftheseoccasions,amartencaughtitintheeveningandinjureditbadly.Iwasabletoscarethemartenawayandtakethepooragoutiintomycare.Soon,though,werealizedthattheinternalwoundsweretoosevereforittosurvive.Beforeitcouldsuffertoomuch,mymotherputitoutofitsmisery.Shedidthiswhenitwasnecessary,inherdistinctiveway,atoncesympatheticandprofessional.Sometimesthisaffectedherreallydeeply,andIsawtearsinhereyes.

Yes,thejunglewasmyteacher,asmuchasmyparentswere.Theyinstructedmewithdisciplineeverymorning.Iwasstilllegallyrequiredtoattendschool,andgotthematerialfromafriendinLimabymail—eventhoughitsometimesdidn’tarriveforweeksormonths.Myparentsfollowedit.Theywerealwaysaftermetodothingsforschoolandnotrunoffintotheforestallthetime.Myfatherwasreallygoodatmath,andIwasreallybad.Sohedecidedoneday:“Somethingmusthavegonewrongatthebeginning.Let’sstartagainfromscratch.”HowthrilledIwas!Buthewasright,andbecausehewasreallygoodatexplainingit,itsoonsankin.Suddenlymygradesshotup.ButImuchpreferredreadingtoalgebra.Idevouredanyhalfway-interestingreading

material,sothatmyparentshadtorationmyreading.Afterall,everysinglebookhadtocoveragreatdistancebeforeIcouldholditinmyhands.Istillrememberwellathin-papereditionofQuoVadis,ofwhichIwasonlypermittedtoreadfiftypagesaday.Thatwashard!

Theschoolofthejungle,thebooks,butaboveallmyparents’teachingpreparedmeforwhatIwanttoachievetoday:tosavePanguanapermanentlyfromtheencroachmentsofcivilization.ButthatisonlypossibleinLima.Luckily,Ialsoknowmywayaroundthecity,andhavebeenlearninghowtonavigatetheburrocracia.

Inthosedays,too,thearmoftheauthoritiesreachedallthewaytoourjunglestation.Afteroneandahalfyears,theeducationalauthoritiesindicatedtheirreservationsaboutmybeingpermittedtotakethegraduationexamswithouthavingsatataregularschooldeskforthethreedecisiveyears.EvenifIcouldpassallthetestswithoutahitch,itwasnohelp:InMarch1970,IhadtogobacktoLimaandattendmyoldschoolthereagain.

Yes,bythattimeIthoughtofgoingbackassomethingI“had”todo.Thatshowshowmuchthingscanchange.Butwhenitwasclearthattheauthoritieswouldnotrelent,Ilookedforwardtothechancetobewithmyfriendsagain.Afterall,Iwouldn’tlosePanguana—Iwouldreturntoitonallmybreaks.InthemeantimethereweremoreandmoreairlinesthatflewtoPucallpa,sothestrenuousjourneyovertheAndeshadbecomeunnecessary.

Everythingseemedverysimple.Noonesuspectedthenwhatwouldhappenoneday….Despitethebigtimedifference,myhusbandandIwakeupthenextmorningandfeelrefreshedandwellrested.AglanceoutthewindowandI’minanevenbettermoodthanbefore,fortodaythesuncanbedetectedinLima’ssky,anunusuallyfriendlyreceptionforthiscity.Weenjoybreakfast,andthenthingsgetunderway.Infrontofthehotel,wehailataxitoourfirstmeetingwiththelawyer,whomIaskedonmylastvisittopressaheadwiththeformalitiesfortheacquisitionofnewlandforPanguana.

LastyearitbecameclearthatasaPeruvianIcouldcertainlypurchasepropertyinthiscountry.ButsincebyPeruvianlaw,one’sspousemustalsosignthecontractofsaleandisrecordedinthelandtitleregister,weran—onceagain—intoacompletelyunforeseenproblem.BecausemyhusbandisaGermancitizen,that’snotpossible.Andifit’snotpossible,thenIcan’tbuyproperty.

“What?”Iaskedwithconsternation,butalsocombativeness.“Thatcan’tbe.Theremustbesomesolution.”

Yes,thereisone.Butthepathtoitleadsthroughnumerousoffices.Andtoday,freshandwellrested,weforgeaheadslowlybuttenaciouslyonthispath.Fromthelawyerwecontinueontoallsortsofagencies,wherewearesentfromoneofficetothenext.Eachtimewecancalculatebythosewaitinginfrontofushowlongit’sgoingtotakethistime.ButI’mtough,andthisisultimatelywhatI’vecomeherefor.DeskbydeskIworkmywaytowardthegoal,gettingtogetherthenecessarypapersandstampsonthemtoturnPanguanaintoanaturereserve.Noonecanstopme;noteventhenewofficial,wearingfashionableglasses,whowasnotyetsittingatthisdeskhalfayearago,andwhothreatenstohavethewholematterreviewedalloveragain,whichwouldsetmebackyears.Withpatience,thenecessaryassertivenessandexpertise,combinedwithfriendlinessandpersistence,Imanagetoconvincethisyoungwomantoo.Andinthiswaythedayandthenextmorninggoby;atwhichpoint,sighingandsatisfied,wecanfinallyturnourbackontheauthoritiesforthefirsttime.

Oneofourmorepleasurabledestinationstodayisthenaturalhistorymuseum,wheremyparentsworkedforsomanyyearsandwhereIstillhaveoldfriendsfromthattime,colleaguesofmyparents,whoreceivemewarmlyandhelpmehowevertheycan.TodaythehallsnolongerseemasgigantictomeastheydidwhenIwasachild.Isn’titstrangehowroomshavethehabitofshrinkingwhenwegetolder?

InthemeantimethebiologydepartmentofauniversityinLimahasbeennamedaftermymother.Myparentsarestillrenownedfigureshere,andwillmostlikelyremainso.

“Butyou’refamous,”Alwintriestoteasemeonthewaytoourlastdinnerbeforeourdepartureintotheselva.“Ifyou’dallowit,theairporttomorrowmorningwouldbefullofjournalists.”

“Noway,”Isnapathim.I’mfedupwiththoseappearances.It’senoughthatthetaxidriverthismorningdidn’ttakehiseyeoffmeintherearviewmirrorandfinallysaid,“Iknowyoufromsomewhere,señora.FirstIthoughtyouwereEvitaPerón.ButnowIknowit:Aren’tyouJuliana?Theonewhosurvivedtheplanecrash?”InPeru,IamalwayscalledJuliana—whichthePeruviansspellwithanaattheend,thoughmynameisactuallyspelledtheGermanway,withaneattheend.Evencompletestrangersknowmebymyfirstname,forIhavebecomeasortofsymbolamongthembecauseofmysurvivalstory.

Yes,todaypeoplestillrememberthisstorywell,whichItriedtoforgetforsomanyyears.OnceImighthavecutshorttheconversation,buttodayIansweramiablyandpatiently.I’vehadtolearntodealwiththissortoffame.TodayI’mwillingtoconfrontmystory.HereinLima,it’salwayscatchingupto

me,anyhow.NotleastofallwhenImeetmyfriendsfromthosedays,andthiseveningwehavedinnerplanswithEdith.

Wheneverweseeeachother,Ifeelasifweseparatedonlyyesterday.Somuchbindsus,andyetweleadtwosuchfundamentallydifferentlives.Yes,thatwasalreadythecasebackthen,forEdithnevervisitedmeinPanguana,neitherduringourschooldaysnorinthedecadessince.Butthatdoesn’tmatteratall,justasIalsohavefriendsinMunichwhohaveneverbeentoPeru,orjustasMorosorarelycomesoutofhisjungle.WhenIseeEdith,myhusbandknowshecansafelyspendthenexttwohourstalkingtoherhusband,forwehave“women’sconversations,”justasweusedtodoasteenagers.InLima,wealsoalwaysliketovisitmyclosefriendGaby,whoduringmyearlydaysinPanguanaregularlyinformedmehowfartheyhadcomeinschoolinLima,sothatIwouldn’tmisstheconnectiontomyclass.

Backthen,afteralmosttwoyearsinthejungle,Iwasabletoreturntomyoldclasswithoutaproblem,thankstoGaby’shelp.Tomyteacher’ssurprise,mygradeshadactuallyimproved,mostofallinmath.AtfirstIlivedinaroomatthehomeofourlongtimefamilydoctor,withwhommyparentswerefriendly.Butwhenhisdaughterreturnedfromabroad,andtheroomwasbeingused,ImovedintoEdith’sgrandparents’apartmentonthesecondfloorofherparents’house.I’dhavelikedbest,ofcourse,tomovebackintotheHumboldtHouse,whichIthoughtofasmyhome,butthatwasunfortunatelynotpossible.TheHumboldtHousenolongerexistedasaninstitutionfortravelingscientists,andthehousenowhadotherresidents.

Atfirstmyfriendssaid:“Juliane,whyareyouwalkingsostrangely?”That’swhenIrealizedthatinthejungleIhadgrownaccustomedtoalwaysliftingmyfeetupsharplyfromtheground,toavoidtrippingoverarootoranythingelse.Welaughed,andIbrokethehabit.AtthatpointIwasalreadylearningtoliveindifferentworlds,andIenjoyedit.Thoseworldscouldnothavebeenmoredistinctfromeachother.InPanguana,wewenttotherivertowash;wesleptinopenIndianhuts;foodwascookedonsimplekeroseneflames.InLima,ontheotherhand,Iexperiencedallthecomfortsandconveniencesofcitylife.

MyremainingoneandahalfyearsinLimawereawonderful,lightheartedtime,whichIspentwithmypeers.DespitemyjungleexperienceIwasaschoolgirl,likealltherest.Iwasoneofthem,andIlikedthat.InPanguana,Iwasalmostexclusivelywithmyparents;hereIwaswithkidsmyage.Iwasacompletelynormalteenager,didn’tworryallthatmuch,spentmy

vacationsinPanguanaandtheschooldayswithmyclassmatesinLima.OnthefirstChristmasbreakaftermyreturntoLima,Iflewforthevery

firsttimebymyselfonanairplanefromLimatoPucallpa.ThathadalsobeentheplanforChristmasin1971.IwasseventeenandhadjustgraduatedfromPeruvianschool.Thatwasaftereleventhgrade,comparabletoaGermansecondary-schooldiploma,whichdidnotqualifyyoutoattenduniversity.Ofcourse,IwantedtocontinuegoingtoschoolandtaketheGermanAbitur,theuniversityentranceexam.

Aschancewouldhaveit,mymotheralreadycametoLimainNovember,becauseshehadsomematterstoattendtointhecapital.ShewouldhavelikedbesttoflybacktoPucallpaonthedaybeforeChristmasEvetobewithmyfatherassoonaspossible.DespitetheflightfromLimatoPucallpa,whichsavedusalotoftime,thetripstilltookseveraldays,dependingonthewaterleveloftherivers,ontheroadsandonhowfastyoufoundaboat.

“Shouldn’tweflyearlier?”sheaskedme.“Afterall,youdon’thaveclassesanymore.”

Imadeanalarmedface.ForonDecember23,thegraduationceremonytookplace,andontheeveningbeforethat,therewasthefirstreallybigandimportantcelebrationofmylife:the“FiestadePromoción,”thegraduationball.ForweeksIhadbeensavingearningsfromGermanprivatetutoringsessionsformyfirstlongdress.Ithadanelegantbluepattern,puffysleevesandwasalittlebitlow-cut.Ialreadyhadanescorttoo,therelativeofaschoolmate.Inthosedaysyoudidn’tgotosuchanoccasionwithoutadinnerpartner.NotallmyschoolmateswantedtotaketheAbitur,andsothegraduationfestivitieswereincrediblyimportantforme;itwasagoodbyetomanyofmyfriends.Iwasagirlwhohadn’thadtoomanysocialhighlightsinheryouth,andsoIimploredmymothertoletmetakepartinthiscelebrationandattendthegraduationonDecember23.Ofcourse,sheunderstood.

“Allright,”shesaid,“thenwe’llflyonthetwenty-fourth.”MymothertriedtogetaflightonthereliableFaucettairline,butthey

wereallbooked.TheonlyotherairlinethatflewtoPucallpathatdaywasLANSA,theLíneasAéreasNacionalesS.A.,whichhadalreadylosttwoplanesincrashes.Therewasasayingthatwent:“LANSAselanzadepanza,”whichroughlymeans:“LANSAlandsonitsbelly.”Myfatherhadspecificallyurgedmymothernottoflywiththatairline.Butthealternativewouldhavebeenwaitinganotherday,oreventwo.Andmymotherdidn’thavethepatienceforthat.

“Ah,”shesaid,“noteveryplane’sgoingtocrash.”Andsoshebookedtwoseatsforusonthatplane.Whatwedidn’tknow:

ItwasthelastairplanethatLANSAevenhad.Alltheothershadcrashedalready.Onehadevenhadanentireschoolclassonboard.Onlyacopilothadsurvivedthatcrashwithseriousinjuries….

OntheeveningofourseconddayinLima,myhusbandandIpackoursuitcasesonceagain.Yes,Iadmit,I’mexcited.FullofanticipationforPanguana,Icanhardlywaittofinallybethereagain.I’mlookingforwardtotheforest,theanimalsinit,thefamiliarsounds,thesmell,theclimate.Eventhoughyourblouseclingstoyourbodyfromthefirstmomenttothelast,andallyoudoissweatfrommorningtonight.Eventhoughthewaythereisstilltaxing,it’snocomparisontowhatweusedtohavetodotogetthere.Butmingledwithmyanticipationisalsoanotherfeeling,andIknowthatitwillneverleaveme,aboveallnotbeforeaflightfromLimatoPucallpa,theveryroutethatwouldchangemylifesodecisively.Ifit’snevereasyformetoboardaplane,repeatingthisparticularflightisthehardest.ButI’llpullmyselftogether.ColleaguesaccompanyingustoPanguanatopursuetheirresearchworktherejokesometimesthatthere’sprobablyalmostnosaferwaytoflythanwithme.Forit’sconsideredextremelyimprobableforoneandthesamepersontocrashtwice.Icangiveexamples,however,wherethatwasindeedthecase.ButIdon’twanttothinkaboutthattoday.

Thenextmorningthealarmgoesoffearly.Justlikethatday,ourflightisscheduledforseveno’clock.Whilewerushtogetreadyandaredriventotheairport,itallcomesback.It’sfouro’clockinthemorning,andjustlikethatdayIdon’tfeelwellrestedatall.AsifIwereseventeenagain,Idoze,thinkingoftheschoolfestivities,thegraduationball.Ididn’thavetheslightestideahowmuchthatdaywouldchangemylife….

Withmymother,inacanoe,ontheRíoYuyapichis,1969.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

6TheCrash

Noescape:emergencyexitfromthewreckageoftheLANSAplaneatthecrashsite,1998.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

WhenwearriveattheairportearlyinthemorningonDecember24,1971,it’spacked.Severalflightswerecanceledthedaybefore,sonowhundredsofpeoplecrowdaroundthecounters,everyoneanxioustogethomeintimeforChristmas.There’schaosintheterminal.Wegotupsoearly,andnowsuddenlywehavetowait.Forawhileit’snotevencertainwhetherourplanewillflytoPucallpaatallorinsteadheadsouthtoCuzco.I’mreallyannoyedaboutthis.

Alsointhecrowd,jostlingforboardingpasses,isthefilmmakerWernerHerzog,whohasalreadybeentryingindignantlyfortwenty-fourhourstogetseatsforhimandhisfilmcrewonaplanetoPucallpa,forhisflightthepreviousdaywascanceledtoo.HehastogettothejungletoshootscenesforhismovieAguirre,theWrathofGod.Heputsupafighttobeabletoflyinourplane,andheisreallyangrywhenhecannot.InallthecommotionItakenonoticeofhim.Onlymanyyearslaterwillhetellmethatwemightevenhavedirectlyencounteredeachotherthatday.Standinginline,Idonoticetwogood-looking,cheerfulboysaboutmyage,speakingAmericanEnglish,withwhomweexchangeafewwords.TheyexplainthattheylivenearPucallpainYarinacocha,whereagroupofAmericanlinguistshasbeenstudyingthelanguageofthejungleIndiansforyears.Likemymotherandme,theymanagetogetseatsonthepackedplane.

Finally,whenit’salreadyaftereleveno’clockinthemorning,ourflightiscalled.Andwhenweultimatelyseetheplane,wefinditmagnificent.It’saturbopropbuiltbythecompanyLockheed,modelL-188AElectra;inmyeyesitlooksasgoodasnew.However,it’sfarfromit,aswe’lllaterfindout.ThistypeofairplanewasactuallydesignedforuseindesertregionsandhadalreadybeentakenoutofserviceintheUnitedStatesforyears.Becauseithastroublewithstandingturbulence—foritswingswere,unlikethoseofotherairliners,fastenedfirmlytothefuselage—aturbopropcouldnotbelesssuitedforaflightovertheAndes.No,itwasnotnew,butassembledentirelyfromsparepartsofotherairplanes.Ofcourse,wedidn’tknowthatatthetime.

ItsnameisMateoPumacahua,andthatstrikesmeasmemorable,forit’sthenameofanationalhero,whofoughtforPeru’sindependenceandwasultimatelyquarteredbytheSpaniards.ThetwoyoungAmericansandImakejokesaboutthename,oneofthemsaying:“Well,we’dbetterhopetheplaneisn’tquarteredtoo.”

Intheairplanewetakeourseats.Everythingiscompletelynormal.MymotherandIsitinthesecond-to-lastrow,number19.Isitbythewindowasalways,

seatF.FromhereIcanseetherightwingoftheplane.It’sathree-seatbench,mymothersitsinthemiddle,andathicksetmantakestheaisleseatandfallsasleeponthespot.

Mymotherdoesn’tliketofly.Sheoftensays:“It’stotallyunnaturalthatsuchabirdmadeofmetaltakesoffintotheair.”Asanornithologist,sheseesthisfromadifferentstandpointthanotherpeopledo.OnoneofherflightstotheUnitedStates,shealreadyhadanexperiencethatgaveherahugescare,whenanenginemalfunctioned.Eventhoughnothinghappenedandtheplanewasstillabletolandsafelywithoneengine,shewassweatingblood.

Andtherewasanotherincidentthatmadehersuspiciousofflying.WehadanacquaintanceinCuzcowhorefusedtoflynomatterwhat.“No,”hesaid,“Idon’tfly,andthat’sthat.”Foryearshehadalwaysgonebyland,whereverhetraveled.Hestucktothat;untiloneday,forsomereason,hehadtofly,afterall.Andthatveryplanecrashed.Formymotherthatwasasortofomen.

Still,sheflewoften,especiallyfromLimatothejungle,assoonasthatwaspossible,forintheendyouweresavingyourselfsomanyhoursoftravel.Earlier,beforetherewereregularairlines,weoccasionallyeventookpropellerplanesovertheAndes.Sincethoseplanesflyatalowaltitude,it’salwaysreallyturbulent,andevenIsometimesfeltqueasy.AfewweeksbeforethatflightonChristmasEve,1971,Ihadgoneonaneight-daytripwithmywholeclass,thetraditionalViajedePromoción.WeflewtoArequipainthesouthernpartofthecountry,andinalettertomygrandmotherIwrote:Theflightwasglorious!Amongotherplaces,wevisitedPuno,LakeTiticacaandMachuPicchu,andfromCuzcoweflewbacktoLima.Thatflightwasextremelyturbulent,andmanyofmyclassmatesdidn’tfeelgood.ButIwasn’tnervousatall.Ievenenjoyedtherocking.Iwassonaivethatitdidn’tevenoccurtomethatsomethingcouldhappen.

Todayeverythingisquietattheairport.MyhusbandandIcheckinwithoutaproblemattheairlineStarPeru.Afterthat,wehavebreakfastcalmlyandunhurriedlyatoneofthenewcoffeeshops.Itrytoactasifthisflightwereoneofmany.Andinawayitistoo.Thenit’stimetoboard.AsalwaysIsitontherightbythewindow.Whoknows,wemighthavebeautifulweatherovertheAndestoday.Thesunhasn’trisenyet,andthere’snotellingfromthechronicallyovercastLimaskyhowthingswilllookoverthecordilleras.

Itturnsoutthatwegotdreamweatherforthistrip:Themountainsarecompletelycloudless;thesummitsandglaciersgleamintherisingsun;themassiveridgesandvastplateausoftheAndesappearfirstinpastelandthenin

shiningcolors.Thisspectaclelastsabouttwentyminutes,andthenthemountainslopesintheeastdescendtotheendlessrainforest,whichisalreadypartoftheAmazonregion.Soonwe’llreachthespotwhereithappened….

TheflightfromLimatoPucallpatakesonlyaboutanhour.OnDecember24,1971,thefirstthirtyminutesare—justliketoday—perfectlynormal.Ourfellowpassengersareinhighspirits.EveryoneisexcitedtocelebrateChristmasathome.Afterabouttwentyminutes,we’reservedasmallbreakfastofasandwichandadrink,justaswearetoday.Tenminuteslaterthestewardessesalreadybegintocleanup.Andthen,allofasudden,wehitastormfront.

Andthistimeit’scompletelydifferentfromanythingI’veexperiencedbefore.Thepilotdoesnotavoidthethunderstorm,butfliesstraightintothecauldronofhell.Itturnstonightaroundus,inbroaddaylight.Lightningisflashingincessantlyfromalldirections.Atthesametimeaninvisiblepowerbeginstoshakeourairplaneasifitwereaplaything.Thepeoplecryoutasobjectsfallontheirheadsfromtheopenoverheadcompartments.Bags,flowers,packages,toys,wrappedgifts,jacketsandclothingraindownhardonus;sandwichtraysandbagssoarthroughtheair;half-finisheddrinkspouronheadsandshoulders.Thepeoplearefrightened;theyscreamandstarttocry.

“Hopefully,thisgoesallright,”mymothersays.Icanfeelhernervousness,whileImyselfamstillprettycalm.Yes,Ibegintoworry,butIsimplycan’timaginethat…

ThenIsuddenlyseeablindingwhitelightovertherightwing.Idon’tknowwhetherit’saflashoflightningstrikingthereoranexplosion.Iloseallsenseoftime.Ican’ttellwhetherallthislastsminutesoronlyafractionofasecond:I’mblindedbythatblazinglight;whileatthesametime,Ihearmymothersayingquitecalmly:“Nowit’sallover.”

TodayIknowthatatthatmomentshealreadygraspedwhatwouldhappen.I,ontheotherhand,graspnothingatall.Anintenseastonishmentcomesoverme,becausenowmyears,myhead—no,Imyselfamcompletelyfilledwiththedeeproaroftheplane,whileitsnoseslantsalmostverticallydownward.We’replummeting.Butthisnosedive,too,Iexperienceasifitlastednolongerthantheblinkofaneye.Fromonemomenttothenext,thepeople’sscreamsgosilent.It’sasiftheroaroftheturbineshasbeenerased.MymotherisnolongeratmysideandI’mnolongerintheairplane.I’mstillstrappedintomyseat,butI’malone.

Alone.Atanaltitudeofabouttenthousandfeet,I’malone.AndI’m

falling.Incontrasttothenoisejustamomentago,thesoundsofmyfreefallare

downrightquiet.Iheartherushingoftheair,whichfillsmyears.TodayI’mnotcertainwhetherIremainedconsciouswithoutinterruption,probablynot.Presumably,thenosediveintheplanelastedmuchlonger—accordingtotechnicalcalculations,eventenminutes.OnlyafterafewweeksamIabletorememberitatall.FirstIexperienceitinmynightmares,untilthememoryreturns.Andtothisday,Istilldon’tknowhowIcouldsuddenlybeoutsidetheairplane.

Inhistext“WingsofHope”inthebookVoyagesintoHell,WernerHerzogwrote,…shedidnotleavetheairplane,theairplanelefther,andthatcapturesitexactly.Ihungstrappedintotheseat,andaroundmewasnothing.Therehasbeenmuchspeculationaboutwhatexactlyhappened.Mostlikely,theairplanesimplybrokeintomanypiecesafterthelightningstruck.Weprobablysatatoneofthebreakingpoints,andinvisibleforceshurledmeoutintheseat,intothemiddleoftheragingelements.Howexactlythathappened,andwhathappenedtomymother,Iwillneverlearn.

ButIrememberfalling.I’mfalling,andtheseatbeltsqueezesmybellysotightthatithurtsandIcan’tbreathe.Atthatmomentitbecomescrystalcleartomewhatishappening.Inmyearsistheroaroftheair,throughwhichI’mmovingdownward.BeforeIcanevenfeelfear,Iloseconsciousnessagain.ThenextthingIrememberishangingupsidedownwhilethejunglecomestowardmewithslowlyspinningmovements.No,it’snotcomingtowardme;I’mfallingtowardit.Thetreetops,greenasgrass,denselypacked,remindmeofheadsofbroccoli.Theimagesareblurred.Iseeeverythingasifthroughafog.Thendeepnightsurroundsmeagain.

Idream….It’salwaysthesamedream.Actually,it’stwo,whichareinterwoven;as

inakaleidoscope,Ishiftinmysleepfromoneintotheother.Inthefirstofthesedreams,I’mracingfuriouslyatalowheightthroughadarkspace,incessantlyracingalongthewallwithouthittingit.There’saroaring,hummingsoundinmyears,asifImyselfwereequippedwithanengine.IntheseconddreamIhavetheurgentneedtowashmyselfbecauseIfeelcompletelyfilthy.Ifeellikemywholebodyisstickyandcoveredwithmud,andIdesperatelyhavetobathe.AndthenIthinkinmydream:Butthat’seasy.Allyouhavetodoisgetup.Justgetupandgotothebathtub.It’snotthatfar.AndatthemomentImakethedecisiontogetupinthedream,Iwakeup.IrealizethatI’munderneathmyseat.Myseatbeltisunfastened,soImusthavealreadybeenawakeatsomepoint.I’vealso

apparentlycrawledstilldeeperundertheshelteringbackofthethree-seatbench.Ilaytherealmostlikeanembryofortherestofthedayandawholenight,untilthenextmorning.Iamcompletelysoaked,coveredwithmudanddirt,foritmusthavebeenpouringrainforadayandanight.

Iopenmyeyes,andit’simmediatelycleartomewhathashappened:Iwasinaplanecrashandamnowinthemiddleofthejungle.IwillneverforgettheimageIsawwhenIopenedmyeyes:thecrownsofthejunglegiantssuffusedwithgoldenlight,whichmakeseverythinggreenglowinmanyshades.Thissightwillremainburnedintomymemoryforalltime,likeapainting.ThosefirstimpressionsalreadyshowmeaforestliketheoneIknowfromPanguana.Idon’tfeelfear,butaboundlessfeelingofabandonment.AndwithexcessiveclarityIbecomeawarethatI’malone.Mymother,whowasjustsittingnexttome,isgone.Herseatisempty.There’salsonotraceoftheheavymanwhofellasleepimmediatelyaftertakeoff.

Itrytostandup,butIcan’t.Everythingimmediatelygoesblackbeforemyeyes.Iprobablyhaveasevereconcussion.Ifeelhelplessandutterlyalone.

Instinctively,Ilookatmygoldconfirmationwatch.It’sstillworking.Icanhearitssoftticking,butIfindithardtoreadtheclock.Ican’tseestraight.AfterawhileIrealizethatmylefteyeisswollencompletelyshut.Andthroughtheothereye,Icanseeonlyasifthroughanarrowslit.Ontopofthat,myglasseshavedisappeared.SinceIwasfourteen,I’vewornglasses,eventhoughIdon’tespeciallylikethem.Nowthey’regone.Still,Ifinallymanagetoreadthetime.It’snineo’clock.Goingbythepositionofthesun,it’smorning.Ifeeldizzyagain,andIliebackexhaustedontherainforestfloor.

WhatIdon’tknow:ThelargestsearchoperationinthehistoryofPeruvianairtravelhasbegun.Sincethepreviousafternoon,allPucallpahasbeeninextremeexcitement.ThecitycenterwascompletelydesertedintheafternoonandeveningofDecember24,becausethepeoplebesiegedtheairportandeventherunways.AftertheLANSAplanehaddisappearedfromtheradarscreenfromonemomenttothenext,shortlyafterithadsentalastradiomessagenearOyón,aboutfifteenminutesawayfromPucallpa,itwasgonewithoutatrace.Contradictoryinformationconfusesandworriesthefamilymembers.Thehopethattheplanemadeanemergencylandingsomewhereelseisabruptlydashed.Eventuallytheycannolongerclosetheireyestothefactthattheplaneismissing,byallindicationshascrashedintheseverestorm,theimpactofwhichwasfeltallthewaytoPucallpa.HeinrichMaulhardt,afriendofourfamilywhowasgoingtopickupmymotherandmefromtheairport,isalsoamongthe

peoplewaiting.Nowhehasthedifficultjobofsendingmyfatherthebadnewsinthedistantandinaccessiblejungle.

AfterawhileItryagaintostandup.SomehowIgetonmyknees,buttheneverythinggoesblackagainandIfeelsodizzythatIimmediatelyliebackdown.Itryagainandagain,andeventuallyIsucceed.NowIdiscovertheinjuriesI’vesustained:Myrightcollarbonefeelsstrange.Itouchit,andit’sclearlybroken.Thetwoendshavebeenpushedontopofeachotherandarenotpiercingthroughtheskin,anditdoesn’thurtatall.ThenIfindagashonmyleftcalf,perhapsoneandahalfincheslonganddeep,whichlookslikeacanyon,jagged,asifithadbeencutbyaroughmetaledge.Butwhat’sstrangeisthatit’snotbleedingatall.

Andthen,allofasudden,Ifeelanewtheabsenceofotherpeople.Nooneisthere,Iknowit.Notmymothereither.Butwhy?Shewassittingnexttome!Igetdownonallfoursandcrawlaround.Searchforher.Callhername.Butonlythevoicesofthejungleanswerme.

7AloneintheJungle

Cañabrava,agiantreed,whichcoversthemouthofthesmallcreekthatIfollowed,whereIlatershowedtherescueteamthewaybacktothecrashsite,2010.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

LatertheresidentsofPuertoInca,arainforestcityonlyabouttwelvemilesasthecrowfliesfromthespotwhereIfoundmyselfonthegroundafterthecrash,toldmethattherehadbeenaterriblestormwithextremelypowerfulwindsthatday.Therearepeoplewhoclaimtohaveheardanairplanecirclingoverthecityandthendisappearinginthedirectionofthejungle.HadthepilotconsideredmakinganemergencylandinginPuertoInca?Idoubtit.Forthewreckagewasfoundprettymuchexactlyontheroutetheairplanenormallytook.Sothepilotdidnotdeviateoffcourse.

FromWernerHerzog,Ilaterlearnedoftheconversationsrecordedinthecockpitshortlybeforethecrash,foreventheblackboxwaseventuallyfoundamongthewreckage.ThepilotschattedabouttheupcomingChristmascelebration,abouttheirchildrenandfamiliesandhowtheyhopedtoreturntoLimaasquicklyaspossible.Apparently,thedeadlythunderstormhadsurprisedthemasmuchasithaduspassengers.TheairplanehadalreadybegunitsfinaldescenttowardPucallpa.Idon’tknow,ofcourse,whetherthepilotshadachoice,butinanycasetheysteeredtheplanedirectlyintothestorm.

Therewasalsoawoodcutterintherainforestduringthecrash,andhesaidheheardaloudbang,likeanexplosion.Later,whentherescueteamsaresearchingforthecrashedplane,hewillreportthattothecommanderincharge.Buttheywon’tbelievehim.Toomanyleadsfromthepopulationthatturnedouttobefalsehavemadethesearchteamsmistrustful.Isitfatethatthisverywoodcutter,namedDonMarcio,willlaterplayadecisiveroleinmyrescue?

Whathasmostpreoccupiedmesincethen,andapparentlyotherstoo,isthequestionofhowintheworldIcouldsurvivemyplungefromanaltitudeofnearlytwomileswithsuchmildinjuries.EventhoughitwouldlaterturnoutthatIwasfarmoreseriouslywoundedthanIperceivedafterwakingup,myinjurieswerelaughableincomparisontotheseverityofmyfall.BesidesmycollarboneIhadbrokennothing,andevenmyfleshwoundsweremanageable.Howcouldthatbe?Wasitamiracle?Oristherearationalexplanationforit?

InconversationwithWernerHerzog,Ilaterthoughtaboutthreepossibleexplanations,andprobablyIowemysurvivaltoacombinationofallthree:

Firstofall,itisknownthatinparticularlyextensivethundercloudstherearepowerfulupdrafts,whichdriveeverythingupwardandcouldconceivablycatchandpossiblyevenwhirlaloftafallingperson.Suchupdraftscouldhavecushionedmyfall.Itwastrue,afterall,thatduringthebriefintervalwhenIwasconsciousIfeltasiftherainforestwerecomingtowardmeincircles.

SoIassumethatIwassimplyspinning,justasamapleseedspinsasitfalls.Andthethree-seatbench,tooneendofwhichIwasfastenedbymyseatbelt,couldhaveworkedabovemelikethelittlewingonthemapleseedthatisresponsibleforthisspinning,slowingmyfall.Ontopofthat,amanwhowasinvolvedinrecoveringthecorpsestoldmethatonlyoneverywell-preservedseatbenchwasfound,andindeedinaplaceintheforestoverwhichthegianttreeswereconnectedbyadensenetworkoflianas.Perhapsthatwas“my”seat?Certainly,thistangleoflianascouldhavecushionedandslowedmyplunge.Probablyitevenensuredthatthethree-seatbenchendedupbackundermesothatIthenfellthroughthelianasandtreebranchesasinaboatandlandedrelativelygentlyontherainforestfloor.ForifIhadhitoneofthetreetopsunprotected,Iwoulddefinitelynothavesurvivedtheimpact.

Allthatmakessense.Andyetsomethingremains.Somethinginexplicable.Agreatwonder.Manypeoplehaveaskedmesince,howdiditcomeaboutthatIdidn’tdieofpurefearduringmyfreefall?Thetruthis:Strangely,Ifeltnofearatall.EvenasIwasplummetingand,fullyconscious,sawthejunglewhirlingunderme,Iwascompletelyawareofwhatwashappeningtome.Perhapsmyconsciousmomentsweretoobriefformeeventobecomefrightened,butIthinkit’smuchmorelikelythatwebearwithinusasortofbuilt-insafeguard,whichprotectsusinsuchextrememomentsfromgoingmadwithfearorevendying.Myexperienceis:Whenyouareinthemidstofaterribleevent—andthemorehorribleitis,themorethisistrue—yousimplyletgo.Theterrorcomesafterward,asinthetaleoftheriderwhocrossesalake,realizesonlyafterhehassafelyreachedtheothersidehowthintheicewasoverwhichhedrovehishorse,anddropsdead.

OnDecember25,1971,asIawakefrommylongblackoutinthemiddleofthejungle,I’mstillinthemidstoftheevent.EventhoughI’mfullyawarethatI’vefallenoutoftheairplane,theseriousconcussionandprobablyalsothedeepshockkeepmefromsimplygoingcrazy.Ontopofthat,myparentsshowedmefromanearlyagethatwithcalmandmethodicalthinkingyoucouldmasteralmostanysituationinwhichyouendupinnature.Andthat’sthecasenowtoo.

Idon’tdoubtthatIwillsomehowgetoutofthisjungle.MyparentsalreadytookmewiththemintotheselvawhenIwasachild,andwealwayscameoutsafeandsound.NowIjusthavetofindmymother.ButhowwillIdothat?IstillfeelasifI’mpackedincotton.

Forsomeonewhohasneverbeenintherainforestbefore,itcandefinitely

appearthreatening.Thenitseemslikeawallthroughwhichgreen-filteredlightfalls,withcountlessshadowsvaryinginthickness.Thecrownsofthetreesareatadizzyingheight,makinganyonedownonthejunglefloorfeellikeatinycreature.Everythingisfilledwithlife,andyetanuntrainedeyeonlyrarelyactuallycatchessightofalargeranimal.There’sscurrying,rustling,fluttering,buzzing,gurgling,clicking,whistlingandsnarling.Formanyofthenoises,therearen’tevenwords—andthat’softenmuchmorefrighteningthanwhenallthecreaturescanbeseen.Frogsandbirdsmakethemostincrediblesounds.Ifyouaren’tfamiliarwiththem,youoftencan’tascribethemtotheseanimals,andtosomepeopletheymightevenseemmaliciousandmenacing.Andthenthere’stheenormousdampness.Evenwhenit’snotraining,moisturedripsdownonyouconstantly,especiallyintheearly-morninghours.Thesmellsoftherainforestareunusualtoo;oftenitsmellsofmustyrottenness,oftheplantsthatintertwineandramble,growanddecay.Inthesetendrilssnakescansit,poisonousonesandharmlessones,perfectlycamouflaged.Oftenyoumistakeoneforabranch,anddon’tevennoticeit.Ifyouthenseeitafterall,manypeopleareseizedwithanatural,instinctiveterror,whichparalyzesthemordrivesthemtofleewildly.

And,ofcourse,thereisatremendousabundanceofthemostdiverseinsects.Theyarethetruerulersofthejungle.Grasshoppers,bugs,ants,beetlesandbutterfliesinthemostmagnificentcolors.Andmanymosquitoesthatliketosuckhumanblood,aswellasflies,whichlaytheireggsundertheskinorinwounds.Stinglesswildbees,whichdon’tdoanythingtoyou,do,however,liketolandinhordesonhumanskinorclingtoyourhair,asifstucktoitwithglue.

Intherainforestafterthecrash,Iencounteredallthis.Butmyadvantagewas:Ihadlivedlongenoughinthejungletobecomeacquaintedwithit.Myparentswerezoologists,andtherewasalmostnothingtheyhadn’tshownme.Ionlyhadtofindaccesstoallthisknowledgeinmyconcussion-foggedhead.BecausenowitwasnolongerjustsomethingIhappenedtopickupinpassing.Nowthisknowledgewasnecessaryformysurvival.

That’salsowhytothisdayIstillgetinvitedtodiscussions,totelevisioninterviews,eventosurvivaltrainings.Themostfrequentlyaskedquestionis:“Whatshouldyoudoifyou’reinanaccidentinthejungle?”

I’mfamiliarwiththePeruvianrainforest,perhapstheAmazontoo,butthat’sasfarasitgoes.Whatshouldyoudotosurviveinthejungle?Unfortunately,that’simpossibletosayingeneral.Jungleshavethepeculiarityofbeingextremelydifferentfromoneanother.Eachrainforestisgovernedbyitsownlaws.Wheneveranairplanecrashessomewhere,mytelephonewon’tstopringing.Fatehasapparentlymademeintoanexpertonsurvivingairplane

disasters,andsoIhavetoanswerquestionstimeandagain.WhenayoungwomandisappearedinthejungleintheCongoafewyearsago,ajournalistaskedme:“Whatwouldyouadviseher?Howshouldsheconductherself?”

Ihadtogiveadisappointinganswer:“I’veneverbeenintheCongo.I’dhavetoseeonthegroundfirsthowthingslookthere,whatanimalsthereare,whatplants.Everyjungleisdifferent.”Besidesthat,it’snotinmynaturetotellotherpeoplehowtheyshouldconductthemselves.Iwouldbethelastpersontotellthisyoungwomanwhattodo.Iknowalltoowellfrommyownexperiencethateverysituationdemandsnewdecisions.

ThatreporterthentwistedmywordsandwrotethatI’dsaidthatifyou’restrandedinthejungleintheCongo,you’rehopelesslylost.That’swhatoftenmakesmesoangrywithjournalists.

Thentherewasthetwelve-year-oldgirlwhowasthesolesurvivorofaYemeniplanethatcrashedinJuly2009neartheComorosIslands.Shewasabletoclingtoapieceofwreckageinthewavesandhadtomakeitthroughthewholenightintheocean,whichIimagineasaterribleordeal.Manypeoplesawparallelstomystory,becauseshe,too,losthermotherinthecrash.Butthat’swherethesimilaritiesend.“Whatwouldyouadvisethisgirlforherlifefromthispointon?”Iwasasked.Inreply,IhadtoadmitthatdespitemyfateI’manentirelynormalpersonanddon’tfeelcalledupontotellcompletestrangershowtheyshouldnowlivetheirlives,justbecausebothofussurvivedaplanecrash.Thissortofquestionbothersme,becauseIbelievenooneisentitledtogivesomeoneelsesageadvice.

Buttherealsohavebeenfunnyexperiences.Forexample,ajournalistfromtheSüddeutscheZeitungoncecalledandaskedforaninterview.Hesaidonthetelephone:“You’llalsogetapurpleorchidasagiftfromme.”

“That’sreallyniceofyou,”Ireplied,“butyoudon’thavetodothat.Wheredidyougetsuchanidea,inthefirstplace?”

Heanswered:“Well,youlikepurpleorchidssomuch.IreadthatontheInternet.”

Andindeed:Ayoungjournalisthadvisitedmeatmyworkplace,wheretherehappenedtobesuchplants.InherarticleshewrotethatIseemedtotakerefugebehindpurpleorchidsandotherplants.SometimesI’mamazedattheimaginationofpresspeople.

Nowandthen,therearealsointerviewquestionsaboutothertopics,suchasthefutureofPanguana,whichIpersonallyfindmuchmoreexciting.Butmostofthetime,it’salwaysonlyabout“thatonething.”Almosteverythingin

mylifeseemstohavetodowiththecrash;thateventhasledmesodecisivelydownparticularpaths.

Myhusbandjoltsmeoutofmythoughts.“Here,”hesays,lookingathiswristwatch,“here’swhereitmusthave

happened.”Ilookdownattheseaoftreetops.SomewheredownthereIlandedin

thejungle.HereiswhereIspentelevendayssearchingunwaveringlyforawayoutofthewilderness.ItalwaysfillsmewithastonishmentthatI’mstillintheworld,whenalltheothershadtodeparttheirlives….WhenI’mfinallystandingsomewhatsteadilyonmytwolegs,Ilookaround.There’snothingherebesidesmyseat.Ishout.Noanswer.Ilookup.Upabove,beyondthedensetreetops,thesunisshining.Thethickgreencanopyofthejungleiscompletelyintact.Ifanairplanecrashedhereafewhoursago,thenitmusthavecutaswath!Butthere’snotraceofthat,farandwide.

IrealizeIhaveonlyoneshoeon,awhitesandal,openinthebackandclosedinthefront,whichIwasalsowearingonthedayofmygraduationceremony.Ikeepthissandalon,eventhoughlatermanypeoplewillsayhowridiculousthatwas,andtheywillaskmewhyIdidn’tdiscardthissinglesandal,foryoucan’twalkwellwithoneshoe.ButIkeepiton,becausewithoutmyglassesIcan’tseewell,andthiswayatleastoneofmyfeethasalittleprotection.InPanguana,wealwaysworerubberbootswhenwewentintotheforest,becauseofthesnakes.Norismythinminidress,printedwithacolorfulpatchworkpattern,sleevelessandwithafashionabledouble-frilledseam,theidealclothingforanexpedition.Ontopofthat,thelongzipperinthebackhaspartiallyburst.WhenIfeelaround,Ifindanotherwoundonmyupperarm,allthewayintheback,whereit’shardtosee.It’sthesizeofadime,andit’saboutaninchdeep.Thiscutisn’tbleedingeither,nomorethantheoneonmycalf.Itakenoticeofmyopenwounds,buttheydon’talarmme.

MuchlaterdoctorswilldeterminethatIjarredmyneckduringthecrashandfromtheresultingspinalinjuryIstillsufferregularlyrecurringheadachestothisday.ThisalsoexplainswhyIfeltforsolongasifIwerepackedincotton,foritwouldtakedaysbeforethedazedfeelingwouldcompletelysubside.

SuddenlyI’mseizedbyintensethirst.Thickdropsofwatersparkleontheleavesaroundme,andIlickthemup.Iwalkinsmallcirclesaroundtheseat.I’mwellawareofhowquicklyyoucanloseyourorientationinthejungle.Everythinglooksthesameeverywhere,andIwouldn’tbethefirsttoget

helplesslylostafterafewsteps.AthomeinPanguana,Ineverwentintotheforestwithoutamachete,andwheneverIlefttheobservationtrailswehadmade,Icutsignsatregularintervalsinthebarkofthetrees,asmyparentshadtaughtme.Onceithappened,anyway,thatIhadlostmyorientationforawhileandhadgoneincircles.That’swhyI’monalert;lackingabushwhacker,Imemorizeaparticularlystrikingtreeanddon’ttakemyeyesoffit.

Atfirst,tomyboundlessastonishment,Ifindnotatraceofthecrash,nothing.Nowreckage,nopeople.ThenIdiscoverabagofsweetsandatypicalPeruvianChristmasstollen,apanettone,originallybroughttothecountrybyItalianimmigrants.I’mveryhungryandeatapieceofit,butittastesawful.Thehoursofrainhavesofteneditcompletely,andit’ssoakedwithmud.IleaveitwhereIfoundit.Thesweets,however,Itakewithme.

Allmorningandintotheafternoon,Istayatmycrashsite,exploretheimmediatesurroundingsandgainstrength.Isearchforothersurvivors—aboveallformymother.IshoutasloudlyasIcan:“Hello!Isanyonethere?”Inresponse,there’snothingbutvariousfrogcalls,forit’stherainyseason.

AndthensuddenlyIhearthehumofengines.It’sairplanescirclingoverme.Iknowimmediatelywhatthey’relookingfor.Ilookupintothesky,butthejungletreesaretoodense.There’snowayIcanmakemyselfnoticeablehere.Afeelingofpowerlessnessovercomesme.Andthethought:Ihavetogetoutofthethickforest.Andthentheairplanesdepart,andonlythevoicesofthejungleremain.

LaterIfindoutthatIwasonlyaboutthirtymilesfromPanguana.Ihavenoawarenessofthat,butit’scleartomethatIknowthisforest.AndsuddenlyInoticeaveryparticularsound,whichhasbeenthereallalong,fromthebeginning,butonlynowpenetratesmyconsciousness.Thesoundofdripping,tinklingwater,asoftburble.

Immediately,Itrytolocatewherethesewatersoundsarecomingfrom,andindeed:nearbyIfindaspring,feedingatinyrivulet.

Thisdiscoveryfillsmewithgreathope.NotonlyhaveIfoundwatertodrink,butI’malsoconvincedthatthislittlestreamwillshowmethewaytomyrescue.IsuddenlyrememberclearlyanincidentthatoccurredwhenIwaslivingwithmyparentsatPanguana.

AtthattimeagroupofscientistsfromBerkeleyvisitedus.TheywereontheirwaytothenearbySiraMountainRangeattheupperreachesoftheYuyapichisto

studythatasyetunexploredarea.Whentheyarrived,therewasanaccident:Theleaderoftheexpeditioninadvertentlyshothimselfinthelegandurgentlyneededmedicalattention.Sincethemanwasoversixfeettallandmuchtooheavytobecarriedstraightdown,astudentwassenttogethelp.Theyoungmanpromptlylosthiswayinthejungle,buthewasresourceful.Helookedforflowingwaterandfollowedituntilhecametoastream.Thisbroughthimtoalargerchannelandultimatelytoariver,which,fortunately,wastheYuyapichis.Aftertwodaysandtwonights,hereachedPanguana.Thisepisodereallymadeanimpressiononme,andIneverforgotit.

Andnow,afterquenchingmythirstandwashingmyselfalittle,Imakeadecision.Bynow,I’vebecomeconvincedthattherearenosurvivorsoftheplanecrashnearby.IstillhavenoinklingthatIamthesolesurvivorandbelievethattheremustbeotherssomewhere,butaftercrawlingaroundontheforestfloornearthespotwhereIlanded,callingoutconstantly,Iamcertainthatthereisnooneelseinthevicinity.There’snosenseinwaitinganylonger.Thesearchplaneswillneverfindmehere.Ihearthevoiceofmyfather,whosaidtometimeandagain:“Ifyougetlostinthejungleandyoufindflowingwater,thenstaynearit,followitscourse.Itwillbringyoutootherpeople.”

LaterIwasaccusedinthepressofsimplyleavingselfishly,withoutworryingabouttheinjured.Inothernewspapersitwasevenwrittenthatthesurvivorswerewanderingaroundintheforest,screamingandcrying,andIranoffonmyown.Thetruthis,Ifoundnosurvivors.Idon’tknowwhatIwouldhavedoneifIhadactuallyfoundinjuredfellowpassengersandpossiblymymother.ProbablyIwouldhavestayedwiththemandwewouldhaveperishedtogether.Todayweknowthatthewreckageneverwouldhavebeenfoundwithoutmyinformation.

SoIfollowtherivulet,andatfirstthat’snotsosimple,becausethereareoftentreetrunksthatarelyingacrossitthiswayandthat,ordenseundergrowthblocksmyway.Littlebylittle,therivuletgrowswiderandultimatelyturnsintoastreaminanactualbed,whichispartlydry,sothatIcanwalkrelativelyeasilyalongwhatismeanwhileaboutatwenty-inch-widechannel.HowfardoIcomeonthatfirstafternoon?Ican’tsay.Aroundsixo’clock,itgetsdark,andIlookinthestreambedforasuitablespot,protectedattheback,whereIcanspendthenight.Ieatanotherfruitcandy.Ihavenowaytolightafire;eventhoughmyfathertaughtmehowtodosobyrubbingsticksorsmashingstones,itistherainyseason,soeverythingissoaked.Oncethedarknesssetsin,itispitch-black.Exhaustedandalone,Ifallasleep.Lateron,mynightswillbeplaguedby

insects,rain,wind,sleeplessnessanddespair.But,probablyduetomyconcussion,mysleepthatfirstnightismorelikeastateofoblivion.

Meanwhile,thenewsoftheLANSAcrashhasreachedtheMódenafamilyatthemouthoftheRíoYuyapichis.DonElvio,Moro’suncle,goestomyfather.Butmyfatheronlyshakeshishead:“Mywifeanddaughtercan’tpossiblyhavebeenonboardthatplane,”hesaysfullofconviction.“IspecificallytoldthemnottoflywithLANSA.Mywifeneverwouldhavesetfootonthatairplane!”

DonElviodoesn’tknowwhattosay.Hehopesmyfatherisright.Thenextdaymyfatherturnsontheradio.Inaspecialannouncement

thepassengerlistofthecrashedplaneisread.Whatashockitmusthavebeenformyfatherasheheardthenamesofhiswifeanddaughteramongthevictims.TothisdayIcanbarelyimaginewhathellhemusthavegonethrough,allaloneinPanguana.

IwakeuponDecember26andrealizeIsleptdeeply.Still,Ifeelapathetic.That’sprobablyfromtheconcussion.I’mnotafraidandfeelnopain.Ionlyknowonething:Ihavetogetoutofhere.

SoIcontinuetofollowthestream.Islowlymakeheadway.TimeandagainIhavetoclimbovertreetrunks.Ontopofthat,thestreammeandersagreatdeal.Thatcostsmetimeandstrength.ButsinceIcan’tseewellintothedistancewithoutmyglasses,Idon’tdaretotakeanyshortcuts.Theriskofgettinglostissimplytoogreat.Besides,theterrainisextremelyhilly.OccasionallyIpassslopesthatriseupahundredfeetorevenmore.Onlyhere,whereI’mwalking,thewaterhasfounditselfthesimplest,slightlyslopingpath,andIfollowit,makingprogressslowlybutsteadilyonitscourse.

AtonepointIencounteranimposingbird-eatingspider,whichcouldpounceonmeandbiteme.Butit’sontheothersideofthestream;weeyeeachothercautiouslyandthenweeachcontinueonourway.

Thestreambedisrockyandshallow.Thestreamincreasinglywidens,untilultimatelyitfillsitswholebed.Ibegintowadeinthewater,alwayssteppingfirstwiththefootinthesandal.Ifrequentlyhearthesearchplanescirclingoverme.Ishout,eventhoughIknowhowfutilethatis.TheforestI’minisstilltoodense.I’minvisibletotherescuersandthere’snowaytochangethat.Myonlychanceistogoonandatsomepointreachawiderriver,wheretheclosedcanopyofjungletreecrownswillopenandIcanmakemyselfnoticeabletotheairplanes.Maybethey’llfindtheothers,Ithink,maybemymotheris

amongtherescued.Iclingtothisthought.Asmildasmyinjuriesare,itseemsimpossibletomethatothershaven’tsurvivedthecrashtoo.

WhatIdon’tknowisthattheairplanesaresearchinginvain.Twodaysafterthecrash,therearenumerousleadsfromthepopulation,butmostofthemturnouttobefalse.Ahuntersupposedlysawabrightlightandthenheardanexplosion.AforestworkerreportshavingsightedtheairplaneonDecember24flyingatalowaltitudealongtheSiraMountainRange.PilotsamongtheAmericanlinguistslocatedontheshoreoftheYarinacochaLagoon,thosemissionariesstudyingthelanguageoftheIndiansinordertotranslatetheBibleforthem,jointhePeruvianAirForce,theFuerzaAéreadelPerú(FAP).TheyfocusonatrapezoidalareabetweenTournavista,atownnamedAguasCalientesandPuertoInca,fortherearethreepossibleaccounts,whichallpointtothecorrectarea.Ihearsearchplanesalmostallday.Andyettheoperationisunsuccessful.Thejungleseemstohavesimplyswallowedtheairplanewithitspassengers.

Duetothemanyfalsereports,anewsblackoutisimposed.Onlyofficialannouncementsarepermitted.ThecommanderoftheFAP,whoisleadingthesearch,reactsdrastically:Itissaidthatpeoplewhoraiseanalarmwillbearrestedandinterrogated.Thatunsettlesthepopulation.Still,morerumorscirculate.Anonymouslettersappear,inwhichthere’stalkofdivinepunishment.Thevictimswerepunishedfortheirmanysins.

Formanyfamilymembersofthemissing,theuncertaintygrowstoogreatandthewaitingunbearable.Theyfeelliketheyhavetodosomething,andultimatelybandtogetherintoacivilpatroltofinallygetanswerstotheirmanyquestions.FromPuertoInca,theymaketheirwayintotherainforest,butthesearchishamperedbytorrentialrainfall.ThedespairandhelplessnessgrowswhenamannamedAdolfoSaldaña,whosesonwasontheplane,hasacaraccidentontheCarreteraCentral,abadroad,muddyandriddledwithholes,whileattemptingtobringfoodtotherescueteams.Hediesatthesceneoftheaccident.

Unawareofallthis,Isetonefootinfrontoftheotherinthejungle,alwayssteppingfirstwiththeshodfoot.Ifightmywaythroughdeadwoodthatblocksmypathinthestreambed,climbingunswervinglyovereveryobstacle.Onthethirddayafterthecrash,IfindinthestreambedthefirstpieceofwreckagesinceIsetoff—aturbine.Ononesideit’scompletelyblack.Aha,Ithink,thismustbewhereIsawthelightningstrike.Thesightmerelyfillsmewithamazement,becauseI’mstillinsevereshockandsufferingfromtheeffectsofthe

concussion.ItwilltakeyearsbeforeIwillgraspthewholesignificanceofthisfind.Fortheimprobableoccurs,andtwenty-sevenyearslaterIwillreturntothisplace,withthefilmmakerWernerHerzog.WhatIcan’timagineinthedaysafterthecrashwillthenbecomereality:Iwillretracepartsofthispath,Iwillseeevenmorepiecesofwreckage,andIwillstillaskmyselfhowallthiswaspossible.AndstillIwillfindonlysomeanswerstomyquestions.

Inthefirstdaysofmytrek,Idon’taskmyselfanyquestions.I’mstillinadaze.OnDecember28,mygoldconfirmationwatch,agiftfrommygrandmother,stopsforgood.Thewatchisactuallynotevenwaterproofandhasjustundergoneanextremeendurancetest.Ibrieflythinkofmyconfirmation,whichtookplacethepreviousspringinLima.Myfatherwaseventhereandpickedoutmyconfirmationmotto:“Blessedistheonewhofindswisdom,andtheonewhogetsunderstanding,forthegainfromherisbetterthangainfromsilverandherprofitbetterthangold.”Itdoesn’toccurtomehowaptlythisproverbfitsmysituation.Onlymuchlaterwillthatmakemeself-reflective.Forwithoutknowledgeandunderstandingofthelawsofthejungle,Iwouldprobablynotbealivetoday.

Andthen,onthefourthdayofmytrek,Ihearasoundthatmakesmybloodfreezeinmyveins.It’stheflappingoflargewings,unmistakable,louderandlastinglongerthanthatofotherbirds.Ofcourse,Icanonlyknowthisbecausemymotherisanornithologistandsheexplainedittome,andIhopeandpraythatshe’snotthereasonforthepresenceofthekingvulture.Forthecóndordelaselvaalwaysgoesintoactionwhenthere’sagreatdealofcarrionintheforest.Thekingvulturesthere,they’refeedingonthedead.It’snotevenathought,moreanintuitionorstillmoreacertainty.

AndforthefirsttimesinceIsetoffonmyowninthejungle,I’mhorrified.Icomearoundthenextriverbend,andthereIseeit.Athree-seatbench,justlikemine,onlythisonehereisrammedheadfirstaboutthreefeetintotheearth.Theheadsofthepassengers—twomenandawoman—arealsostuckthereintherainforestfloor,onlytheirlegsjuttinggrotesquelyupward.

I’veseenacorpseonlyoncebeforeinmylife.ThattimeIwassixyearsoldandvisitingPucallpa.Mymotherwenttoobservebirdsandleftmeinthecareoffriendswhoownedasawmill.Theytookmealongtotheirneighbors’home,whereachildhaddiedthatnight.Wearrivedforthevelorio,thedaythatadeadbodyliesinstateandfriendsandacquaintancescometopaytheirlastrespects.Therethechildlaywithabloatedbelly.AtthetimeIviewedallthatwithinterest,asonlychildrencannaivelyconfrontdeath.Whenmymother

camehomeintheevening,Itoldher:“GuesswhatIsaw!Adeadchild!”Butmymotherwasreallyangry,Iwasevenscoldedforgoingalongatall,forthechildmighthavediedofyellowfeverortyphus,andIcouldhavebeeninfected.

AsachildIhadbeenmoreinclinedtogazeinwonderatthewholethingasifitwasaninterestingnovelty.Buttodaythesightofthedeadpiercesmetothecore.Anamelesshorrorseizesme.Still,Iforcemyselftostayandtakeacloserlookatthecorpses.They’restillintact,butinthetreessitthekingvultures.They’rewaiting.It’snotagoodfeeling.Aterriblethoughtcrossesmymind.Whatifit’smymother?Veryslowly,carefully,Iapproachthecorpses.Ilookatthewoman’sfeetasifIcouldrecognizebythemwhoitis.IevengrabasmallstickandwithitIturnthefootcarefullysoIcanseethetoenails.They’repolished.Iheaveasigh.Mymotherneverpolisheshernails.

Atthesamemomentitdawnsonmehowstupidofmethisis.Thiswomancan’tpossiblybemymother,becauseshewassittingrightnexttomeonthesamebench.Whydidn’tIrealizethatrightaway?Ithink.AndI’mrelieved.LaterIwillfeelashamed.

Ilookaroundtoseewhethertheremightbemoredeadoreveninjuredpeoplehere.Afewpiecesofmetalliescatteredaround,nothingelse.AndsoIturnawayandgoon.AgainIhearthesearchplanes.IknowIhavetohurry.

8PucallpaToday

NoisymoderntimesinPucallpa,causedbythethousandsofmotocars,2008.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

Todaywelandsafelyonthesmallairfield,whichbackthenwasthesettingforsomanyscenesofanguish.Moroiswaitingforus,andasalwayswefallintoeachother’sarms.Neitherofushasgottenanyyounger.Hisfullbeard,oncesoblack,isnowinterspersedwithsilverthreads.We’veexperiencedsomuchtogether!Andyet,inaccordancewiththecustom,Mororarelycallsmebymyfirstname.Infrontofotherpeople,headdressesmestubbornlyandwithatouchofprideas“ladoctora.”Ifwe’realonewithhisfamily,I’m“lavecina,”theneighbor.Hiswife,Nery,turnsthatintoanaffectionate“vecinita,”whichiswhatIcallhertoo.

Atthepointwheretheairportroadentersthecarreteraisacemetery.Overthewallyoucanmakeoutthetallergravemonuments,amongthemanespeciallylargeone.It’samemorialtothevictimsoftheLANSAcrash,andherefifty-fourofthemareinterredinthetraditionalnichos,burialniches.Twoangelsstandatopagiganticblock,whichholdsthecoffins.Oneisweepingandtheotherisconsolingamourner.Betweenthemisaroundslab.Onitisastylizedmapwiththereliefofacrashedplane,andadashedlinemarksthepathItookbackthen.Ontheedgeiswritten:RutaquesiguióJulianaparallegaraTournavista,whichmeans“therouteJulianefollowedtoreachTournavista.”Andinscribedinlargeletters,atthebaseofthegroupofsculptures,isAlasdeEsperanza,whichmeans“wingsofhope.”

WernerHerzognamedthedocumentaryfilmwemadetogetherafterthis.Ioftenruminatedonthatstrangenameforamonumentbuiltforpeopleforwhomtherewasnomorehope.Atbestmysurvivalcouldbeviewedasatemporarysignofhope,butinlightofthenumerousvictims,Ialwaysfoundthatsomewhatpresumptuous.OnlyrecentlydidIlearnthattherewasamissionaryaidorganizationatthetimewithbushairplanescalledAlasdeEsperanza,which,ofcourse,makesmuchmoresense.Thisorganizationwasamongthosethatparticipatedinthesearchforthecrashedplane,andoneofitspilots,RobertWenninger,issaidtobetheonewhofinallysightedthefirstpieceofwreckagefromthefuselageoftheplane.

It’sstrange,butformanyyearsIknewnothingoftheexistenceofthismemorial.Noonetoldmeaboutit,untilWernerHerzogbroughtmeherein1998.AtthattimeIwasalreadyshockedbyhowyoungmostofthevictimshadbeen.Onefamilylosttwodaughters,onefifteenyearsold,theothereighteen.Anotherhadthreedeaddaughterstomourn,allofthemstillchildren.MaryElaineLópezwasgoingtogetmarriedonJanuary22,1972.Shediedtogetherwithhersister.TheSalesfamilylostthreemembers,amongthemamotherwithherfive-year-oldchild.LaterIlearnedfromaspecialeditionofthePucallpa

newspaperImpetu,datedJanuary24,1972,moredetailsaboutthevictims,suchasthefactthatonegirlwasnotevenonthepassengerlist,becauseshehadtakenherticketfromafriendwhowasill.AyoungmanhadbookedaflightforDecember26,1971,buthereallywantedtoflyearlier.Afterapassengercanceled,hegotaseat.Anothermancouldn’tflyforprofessionalreasonsandgavehisgirlfriendtheticket.AndRodolfoVillacortahadwontheLANSAflightinaprizecompetition.

WheneverI’minPucallpa,Ivisitthemonument.Ialwayslookatthelittlephotosthat,accordingtolocalcustom,areattachedtothefrontofthenichesinovallockets.Herearethetwosisters.There’sthegirlwhotookherfriend’splace.Someofthenichoshaveapparentlybeenemptiedsincemylastvisit.Hereandthere,thenamesofthevictimshavebeenpaintedonbyhandinblack,stubbornattemptstoretainmemoryandholdoffthedecaythataccompaniesgradualforgetting.AsI’mleavingthecemetery,anelderlymanwhoiscleaningthepathsspeakstome.It’sveryniceofme,hesays,thatIstillcomehere.HeknowswhoIam.EvenhereinPucallpa,headdssadly,peoplearegraduallyforgetting.

FromthecemeteryweheadtothehomeofTíoBepo,anuncleofMoro’s.Hisshadedfarm,nomorethanthreehundredfeetfromthebankoftheRíoUcayali,willbeourbasestationtodaybetweenourmanyerrands.Forhere,too,wehavethingstodo.Anxiouslywrinklinghisforehead,MorospreadsoutseveraldocumentsinfrontofmeonTíoBepo’sgardentable.They’rethepapersfortheacquisitionofoneoftheplotsoflandthatistoexpandtheareaofPanguana.Apparently,oneofthepreviousownerswasn’ttellingusthewholetruth,Morodeterminedafteraninspectionoftheproperty.Becausetheseparcelsareinthemiddleofthejungle,itisnotalwayseasytodetermineproperlytheexactlayofthelandandtheboundariesbetweenneighboringplots.Someoftheolderdocumentsthataresupposedtoproveownershipareofhistoricvalue,handwrittenoncrumbling,softpaperandfrequentlyauthorizedwithathumbprint.Inthecaseofsomeproperties,thesalewasconfirmedbynothingbutahandshakebetweenthepreviousandpresentowners.Mostoftheeightpropertyownersavoidedtheelaborateandcostlyentryintheregistryofdeeds,and,ofcourse,Inowhavetoensurethatallthatgetsrectified.ForifIwanttohavePanguana,inexpandedform,declaredanaturereservebytheministryoftheenvironmentinLima,Ican’tshowupwithpaperslikethese.

“Here,”Morosaysglumly,“lookatthis.”Oneofthepropertyownerssoldusaparcelasprimaryrainforest.And

that’strueforthemajorityofthearea.Butaremainder,fortunatelysmall,ispasture,whichhasbeenusedbyaneighborforyears.

Thatisaggravating.Butnowitcomesdowntohowexactlytheboundaryruns,andwhethertheowneroftheadjacentpropertyiswillingtohavehiscattlegrazesomewhereelse.Thismattershowshowurgentlynecessaryitistoprotecttheremainingrainforestfromdeforestation.Herefenceswillprobablyhavetobeerected.Morofrowns,lessthanthrilledaboutthis,forhewillbestuckwiththisjob.Since2000,hehasbeentheofficialadministratorofPanguana.

Todayourjourneytakesustoalawyerwhowillnowdealwiththeentriesinthelandtitleregister.Atleastthat’smyhope.FormyvisitlastyearwithanotaryinPuertoInca,theprovincialcapitalwithjurisdictionoverPanguana,didnothavethesuccessfuloutcomeI’dhopedfor.Asidefromabillthatthenotaryissuedrelativelyquickly,nothinghappened.ForthatreasonI’malittleskepticalregardinghowthenewlawyerwillhandlethings.Butafterthesweat-inducingvisitinhistinyofficedirectlynexttoasun-drenchedroofterrace,I’mingoodspirits.FinallyIseemtohavefoundalawyerwhoknowswhathe’sdoing.SoIdon’tmindlearningthatIhavetogofromPanguanatoPuertoIncatopayalong-overduefeeforalleightplotsoflandatthecityhallthere.Imightalreadybeabletodealwithoneoftheregistrationsthere.HereinPucallpa,noonecantellmewhetherthatwillbepossible.We’llfindoutoncewe’rethere.Ontopofthat,thecattle-ranchingneighborlivesinPuertoInca,andIhopetobeabletoresolvethenandtherewithhimthequestionastotheuseofthepastures.

Cheerfully,Moro,hiswife,Nery,myhusbandandItaketwoofthecountless,colorfulmotocarszoomingaroundlikemad;theyarefunnyrickshawspropelledbymotorcycles.ForseveralyearstheyhavedefinedthestreetscapeofPucallpa,fillingthecitywiththeirpandemoniumandstinkingexhaustgasesandmakingiteasyforpeopletomovefromonecornerofthecitytoanother.Ifinditfuntogoforabumpyrideinthesecoveredtwo-seaters,intowhichthreecansqueezeifnecessary,chattingwiththemostlyyoungdriversandhearingthelateststoriesfromthecity.

Ourdestinationisthemarket,wherethere’salwayssomethingweneedtobuy,whetherit’sanewpairofrubberbootsorasheetorbathtowelsforPanguana,orsomeairtightsealableplasticcontainersfortheinsectsmyhusband(azoologist,likeme,whostudiesparasiticichneumonwasps)ishopingtocapture,ortherainforesthoney,whichisliquidandnotverysweetatall,butrathertastessourandbitter.Thewildstinglessbeesnestinhollowtrees,andtoharvesttheirhoneyonehastosawopenthetreecarefullyfrombehindand

swiftlyremovethepot-shapedhoneycomb.Aftertheclosingofthenest,thebeesthenproducenewhoneyagain.Sincewe’realreadythere,wealsogobythestandsthatsellmedicinalherbsandremediesofallsorts.Webuyacreamfromtheplant,uñadegato,“cat’sclaw,”whichissupposedtohelptreatallsortsofthings,andaroottoalleviatetoothaches.Afewdaysbeforemydeparture,ofalltimes,thedentistdeterminedthatoneofmyteethneededarootcanaltreatment!

Ilovethismarket,thecolorfulsupplyoffruits,vegetablesandtubers,thehodgepodgeofthingsyousimplyneedforeverydaylifeinajunglecity.Ioftencameherewithmymother,passingthroughonourjourneybetweenLimaandPanguana,andwealwayshadalongshoppinglist.

Wehaveonetodaytoo.ForwehavetobuyourprovisionsforPanguanahere—everything,fromdrinkingwaterdowntothelastpieceoftoiletpaper—andtakethemwithus.Wedothatinoneofthelargegrocerystores,wherethegoodsarecheaperbythedozen.Theyalreadyknowushere,becausethisiswherewestockuponsuppliesbeforeeveryexcursiontotheYuyapichis.

OnceallthepackagesareloadedontovariousmotocarsandarezoomingofftowardTíoBepo,weheaveasigh.It’salreadylateafternoon,andsincebreakfastwe’veeatenonlyasnack.

“Whatdoyousay,”Iaskmycompanions,“shallweheadouttoYarinacochaandhavesomethingtoeatinoneofthefloatingrestaurants?”

Ihearnoobjections,andataxihasalreadystopped.Thelagoon,anoxbowlakeoftheRíoUcayali,isquitefarforamotocar.

Wegetaseatallthewayoutonthewater.Ofcourse,weorderfish,whichisfresherherethananywhereelse.Ilookoutonthelagoon,wherefishermenintheirboatsspreadgillnets.Itwasaboatjustlikethat,Ithink,thatbroughtmebacktolifebackthen.Andastheotherschat,thememoriescomeback,offollowingthestreaminthehope…

9TheLargeRiver

Birdsofhope:Hoatzins,asymbolformyrescue.Thecallsoftheselargebirdsshowedmethewayouttothelargeriver,Shebonya,whicheventuallyledtomyrescue,2010.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

…offindinghumansettlements.Thewaterflowsaroundmyfeet.DoggedlyIsetonefootinfrontoftheother.Thestreamturnsintoalargerstream,finallyalmostintoasmallriver.Thedaysareallalike.Itrytocountalong,soIdon’tlosemysenseoftime.Theintensityofthedaylightindicatestometheapproximatetimeofday.Inthetropicsitgetslightatsixo’clockinthemorning;atsixo’clockintheevening,onthedot,itgetsdark.Thesunitself,however,Iseerarely,forthecanopyofthejunglegiantsistoodense.

EventuallyI’vesuckedthelastcandy.Idon’tdaretoeatanythingelse.Sinceit’stherainyseason,there’sbarelyanyfruit.Idon’thaveaknifewithmeandcannothackpalmheartsoutofthestems.NorcanIcatchfishorcookroots.Iknowthatmuchofwhatgrowsinthejungleispoisonous,soIkeepmyhandsoffwhatIdon’trecognize.ButIdodrinkagreatdealofwaterfromthestream,whichisbrownwithfloatingsoil.ThatmightbethereasonIdon’tfeelhungry.Idonotfeelanyparticularaversiontodrinkingthiswater.Fromlivinginthejungle,Iknowthatthewateroftheforestcreeksisclean.Thereisnotmuchdangerofdysenteryinuninhabitedareaswherepeopledonotcontaminatethewater.Still,inPanguana,wehadalwaysboiledtheriverwaterbeforedrinkingit.ThatcrossesmymindasItakeinthemuddywaterfromthestream,butIamawarethatIhavenochoice.BecauseIhaven’thadanyfood,Imustdrinkalottosurvive.

Despitemycounting,thedaysgetmixedupforme.OnDecember29or30,thefifthorsixthdayofmytrek,Ihearabirdcall,andmyapatheticmoodimmediatelyturnsintoeuphoria.It’sthedistinct,unmistakablecallofhoatzins,amixtureofbuzzingandgroaning.AthomeinPanguana,Iheardthiscalloften.Thesebirdsnestexclusivelynearopenstretchesofwater,nearlargerrivers,andthatismyhopeexactly,forthat’salsowherepeoplesettle!

WithnewimpetusItrytomakemorerapidprogressandfollowthebirdcalls.AndindeedIsoonfindmyselfattheoutletof“my”streamintoariver.ButifIwashopingtoreachitquicklynow,Iwasdeceivingmyself.Themouthisblockedbyagreatdealofdriftwoodandovergrownwiththickunderbrush.SoonIacceptthatIwillnevergetthroughherewithnothingbutmybarehands.SoIdecidetoleavethestreambedandgoaroundthebarriers.Itcostsmehourstofightmywaythroughthejunglehere.Themouthisdenselycoveredwithaboutfifteen-foottallreeds,thecañabrava,andthesharpstalkscutmyarmsandlegswhenI’mnotcareful.Butthecallsofthehoatzinsandtheroarofthesearchplanesemboldenme.

Mymotherhadstudiedthehoatzinsextensively,observinganddescribingimportantdetailsoftheirbreedingbehavior.Theseinterestinganimals

notonlylookgorgeous,buttheyalsobelongtoaveryprimitivefamilyandarefaintlyreminiscentofthearchaeopteryx.Likethatfirst-knownbird,theiryoungalsohaveclawsontheirwings.Sincetheirparentsbuildtheirnestsnotonlyextremelysloppilybutalsooverthewater,theycanreallyusetheclaws.Frequentlyahoatzinchickfallsoutofthenest,catchesitselfonthebrancheswiththehelpofitswingclawsandclimbsbackup.Thechickscanalsoswimoutstandingly.

FinallyI’mstandingonthebankofthelargeriver.Iestimateitswidthatthirtyfeet,abeautifulstretchofwater,butthere’snotahumansoulinsight.ImmediatelyInoticethatitcannotbenavigable,fornumerouslogsandotherdriftwoodmakethatimpossible.Ilookupatthesky.Aftersomanydaysinthehalf-lightofthejungle,Icanfinallyseeitopenabovemeagain.Wherearethesearchplanes?Ihearthemonlyinthedistance.Atonepointonemoremakesahalfheartedsweepoverme,andIwaveandshout,butit’sinvain.Itturnsawayanddisappears,justliketheothers.Silence.They’llcomeback,Itellmyself,forsure.Buttimepasses,andtheenginenoiseIheardalmostconstantlyoverthepastfewdaysdoesn’treturn.FinallyIgraspit:They’veapparentlygivenupthesearch.Probablyalltheothershavebeenrescued,exceptme.Exceptme.

Aboundlessangerovercomesme.IhadnoideathatIstillhadthestrengthforsuchintensefeelings.Howcantheysimplyturnaround,nowthatI’vefinallyreachedanopenstretchofwaterafterallthesedays!NowthatIcanmakemyselfnoticeable!Butasquicklyastheangerflaresup,itdiesoutandgiveswaytoaterribledespair.HereIamonthebankofareallylargeriver,feelingutterlyalone.OnlynowthatIhavealittlebitofdistancefromitdoIbecomedistinctlyawareofthevastnessofthejunglearoundme.Ifearthatit’suninhabitedforthousandsofsquaremiles.Iknowthatthere’sanextremelyslimchanceofmeetingapersonhere.Isuspectthatmyoddsarevirtuallyzero.ButIdon’tgiveup.

Thisisstillarealriver.Andwherethere’sariver,peoplecannotbefar.Myfatherrepeatedthatallthetime.Soonerorlater,Inowencouragemyself,Iwillreachthem.There’snoreasontodespairrightnow.Onthecontrary,myrescueliesjustahead.

Ipullmyselftogether.Thinkabouthowbesttoproceed.Theriverbankismuchtoodenselyovergrownformetogoonhikingalongit.I’malsoafraidthatImightsteponapoisonoussnakeorspiderwithmybarefoot.Ibegintowadedownriverintheshallowerwaternearthebank.Butbeforehand,Ilookfora

stick,notonlytoavoidslippingbutalsotocheckthegroundinfrontofme.Iknowtherearedangerousstingraysrestinginthemudoftheriverbanksorlyinginrapids,andtheycan’tbeseen.Ifyousteponthem,theyplungeapoisonousstingerintoyourfoot.Thelegswellsintensely,andyougetahighfever.Thoughthestingray’spoisonisn’tdeadly,mudoftengetsintothewoundwiththestinger,whichcanleadtobloodpoisoning.Inmysituationsuchaninjurycouldendfatally.IlearnedallthisinPanguanafrommyparentsandourneighbors.Iknowthedangersinthewater,andsoIwalkcarefullyandwarily.

Myprogressisveryarduous.Therearebranchesandmanylogsinthewater,thegroundconsistseitherofslipperyrocksordeepmireintowhichIsink.SoIsoondecidetoswiminthemiddleoftheriver.InthedeepwaterI’matleastsafefromstingrays.Instead,therearepiranhas,butI’velearnedthattheyonlybecomedangerousinstandingwater.Certainlycaimansaretobeexpected,butthey,too,generallydon’tattackpeople.SoIyieldtothecurrent.Istillhavenofear.Plus,theconfidencethatI’llsomehowmakeithasreturned.

It’sgoodthatIdon’tknowbutonlysuspectthattheywillsoonstopsearchingforsurvivors.It’salsobetterthatIcan’timaginethatsofarnoonehasbeenrescued—andthatthesearchershaven’tevenbeenabletofindtheslightesttraceoftheplanewreck.ButmostimportantofallisthatIdon’tknowthatbesidesmesomepeopleactuallydidsurvivethecrash,withoutbeingluckyenoughtobeabletoleavethespotwheretheyhittheearth.AsIlaterfoundout,mymotherwasamongthosepeople.AndIthinkofmymotherduringeachofmynights,inwhichIbarelysleep.For,eversincemyconcussionhasabated,Inolongerfallintothatsleeplikestatethatismoreakintoastupor.Mynightsarelong,pitch-blackandwithoutpeace.

WhenthesundescendsandIestimatethetimeataroundfiveo’clock,IsearchforareasonablysafespotonthebankwhereIcanspendthenight.IalwaystrytofindaplacewhereIhaveprotectionatmyback,eitherfromaslightslopeoralargetree.Still,sleepisalmostunthinkable.Eithermosquitoesortinytormentingmidges,whicharealsoamongthegnats,keepmeawake.Theyseemtowanttodevourmealive.There’sbuzzingaroundmyhead,andthebothersomepeststrytocrawlintomyearsandnose.Thosenighthoursareunbearable.Deadtired,Ifallintoahalfsleepandwakeupagainandagainfromtheburningandbitingofnewstings.Or,evenworse,itrains.Thenthemosquitoesleavemealone,buttheice-coldrainpeltsmercilesslydownonme.Ifreezeinmythinsummerdress,constantlysoakedtomyskin.Ashotasitmaybeinthedaytime,duringtherainyseasonitcoolsdowndrasticallyatnight,and

eachoftheharddropstormentsmelikeanicypinprick.Andthenthewindcomesandmakesmeshivertomycore.Isearchforspotsunderdensetreesorinbushes,collectlargeleavesandtrytoprotectmyselfwiththem.Nothinghelps.Onthoseblacknights,whichseemnever-ending,asIcowersomewheresoakedtothebones,Icannotprotectmyself,aboundlessfeelingofabandonmentarisesinme.ItisasifIwereallalone,somewhereoutintheuniverse.ThosearethemomentswhenIdespair.

Ithinkaboutmymotheralot.Howmightshebedoing?Wasshealreadyrescued?Idon’tdaretothinkofthepossibilitythatshecouldhavesufferedthesamefateasthethreepeoplewhohadbeenrammedintotheground,alongwiththeirseatbench.Iwonderwhatmyfathermightbedoingrightnow.Howishe?Whereishe?Hasheheardaboutthecrashyet?

IruminateagreatdealonhowitcouldhavehappenedthatIawokealoneinthejungle.Iwonderwherealltheotherpassengersare,whyIcouldn’tfindaswathcutanywhereintheforest,whereintheworldtheairplaneitselfhasgone.Ithinkaboutmylifeuptonow,whichwassocompletelyunspectacular.Atleastinmyeyes,nothingreallyexcitinghappenedbefore.I’mayounggirl,likealltherest.Iloveanimals,readavidly,gotothemovieswithmyfriends,getgoodgrades,adapttowhateverplaceI’mdraggedto—whetheritbethejungleorLima.I’veneverworriedmuchaboutthemeaningofmylife.ThoughIwasbaptizedasaProtestantandwasjustrecentlyconfirmed,myparentsadheremoretoasortofphilosophicalnaturereligionandviewthesunasthebasisofalllife.Theyhavenotraisedmetobeparticularlyreligious.TheybelievethatIshouldformmyownopinion;theycertainlyprovidedthefundamentalsforaChristianupbringing,butmorewasnotnecessary,intheirview.

OnthosenightsIpray.Theprayersaremainlyaboutmymother.I’vealwayshadaverycloserelationshipwithher.Sheismymotherandasortoffriend.We’remoreintimatelyboundtoeachotherthanIamtomyfather,whoscarcelyletsanyonegetclosetohimbesidesmymother.I’mawarethatit’samiraclethatI’mstillalive,andIwonderwhymeofallpeople.IhavesurvivedthecrashandbelievethatInowhavetogetthroughthistoo.IpraythatIwillfindpeople.Iprayformyrescue.Iwanttolive.Witheveryfiberofmygraduallyweakeningbody,Iwanttolive.AndthenIwonderwhatIwilldowiththatlifewhenthisisfinallyover.

Ithinkaboutthatforalongtime.

Ofcourse,likeallmyfriends,I’vethoughtaboutwhatIwilldoafterschool.FromanearlyageIwantedtostudybiology,likemyparents.ButIneverasked

myselfwhyandforwhatpurpose.Iwasfondofanimals,interestedinplants,andIlikedwhatmyparentsdid.Uptonow,thatwasreasonenoughforme.OnthoserainynightsInowthinkthatitwouldbegreattodevotemylifetosomethingbig,somethingimportant,somethingthatwouldbenefithumanityandnature.Whatthatmightbe,Ihavenoidea.Ijustfeelthatmylifefromnowonshouldhaveameaninginthefabricoftheworld.ForithastomeansomethingthatIfelloutoftheairplaneandwalkedawayfromthatwithonlyafewscrapes.

Those“fewscrapes,”though,dobegintoworrymesomewhatinthedaysthatfollow.Thecutonmycalfswellswithrampantwhitishflesh.Still,Ifeelnopain.Thehiddenwoundonthebackofmyrightupperarmisadifferentstory.Ihavetotwistmyheadfartoseewhat’sgoingonthere.TomyhorrorIdiscoverwhitemaggots,whosebodiespeekoutofthewoundliketinyasparagusheads!Apparently,flieshavelaidtheireggpacketsinmywound,andthebroodisnowalreadyhalfaninchlong.ThatissomethingelseIknowallabout,andthistimemyknowledgeworriesme.

ForLobo,myGermanshepherdmix,wasonceinfestedwithflylarvae.Unbeknownsttous,hehadasmallcutinhisshoulder,andtheflieslaidtheireggsinit.Hiddenundertheskin,themaggotshatchedandburrowedeverdeeperintotheflesh.Theydothatveryskillfully,avoidingbloodvesselssothatthewounddoesn’tbleed.Backthen,theyateadeepcanalforthemselvesunderLobo’sfur,downhislegtohispaw.AtnightLobowhimpered,andwewonderedwhatwaswrongwithhim.Themaggotswerestillcompletelyinvisible.Thenthelegeventuallyswelledandbegantosmell.Bythen,itwasalreadysobadthatthedogwouldnolongerletanyonetouchhim.Finallywediscoveredwhathadhappened.Normally,youcangetmaggotsoutofthebodywithalcohol,butmyfathersaidwecouldn’tdothat,becausethedogwouldgocrazywithpain.Sowepouredkeroseneintothewound,whichdoesn’tburn,untilthemaggotscamecrawlingout,oneafteranother,andwecouldpatchuppoorLobo.Fortunately,hiswoundhealedwithoutanyproblemsafterthat.

SoIknowwhatIhavetodo:Themaggotshavetocomeout.ButIhaveneitheralcoholnorkerosene.Onlyasilverspiral-shapedring,andInowbenditopenandtrytofishoutthemaggotswithit.Butassoonasmyself-madetweezersapproach,themaggotsdisappearintomyflesh.Itryitwiththebuckleonmywatchband,butthat,too,getsmenowhere.Thenaratherqueasyfeelingcreepsuponme.It’snotapleasantthought,tobedevouredalivefromwithin.ThoughIknowthatthemaggotsthemselveswouldnotdoanythingdangeroustome,forlikeallgoodparasitestheyinitiallyavoidharmingthehost,thewoundcan,ofcourse,getinfected.Afterall,Iswimalldaylonginbrown,dirtyriver

water.Andifthatshouldoccur,thenit’snotoutofthequestionthatmyarmwouldultimatelyhavetobeamputated.I’veheardofcaseslikethat.Iwouldn’tbethefirstpersontowhomthishappened.

Sincethere’snothingIcandoaboutitatthemoment,Igoonswimming.Inoticedalongtimeagothatthewildanimalsontheriverbankareextremelytrusting.Iseemartensandbrocketdeer,whicharen’tfrightenedofmeatall.Ihearhowlermonkeys,veryclose,andthatmakesmethink,becauseusuallythoseanimalsareextremelyshy.Iknowwhatthatmeans,butItrytokeepthethoughtatbay:Thisriverandthesurroundingforesthavenotyetcomeintocontactwithpeople,andthatitwillbemanymilesbeforethatmightchange.

Meanwhile,I’mgettingweakerallthetime.ThoughIdon’tfeelhungryatall,Inoticehoweverythingisgettingharder.Idrinkalotoftheriverwater,whichfillsmystomach,andIknowthatIshouldeatsomething.HowmanydayshaveIalreadybeenonthemove?Seven?Oreight?Icountonmyfingers,andIrealizethatthenewyearof1972haspossiblyalreadybegun.Mymotherreallywantedtocelebratetheturnoftheyearwithmyfather.Thatwasthereasonshedidn’twanttowaitanylongerforaflight.AndnowIwonderwheremyfathermightbe.

OnlyrecentlydidIfindamongmyaunt’sposthumouspaperslettersthatmyfatherwroteduringthosedays.OnDecember31,1971,hewrote:

Nowaweekhasalreadypassed,andstilltheplanehasnotbeenfound.Theweatherismostlygood,sothatsearchoperationscouldbelaunchedinalldirections.I’monHerrWyrwich’shacienda,whichhasanairfieldandisthereforeequippedwithtransmittersandreceivers.WecaninquireinPucallpaandaretheninformedonthestatusofthesearchoperation.

Thisparagraphisfollowedbyanenumerationofthevarioustheoriesandstatementsofwitnesses,allofwhomclaimtohaveheardtheairplaneitselforadetonation.ButitturnsoutthatinthenearbySiraMountainRange,duetotheconstantrainfall,alandslidehadoccurred,whichmighthavecausedthissound.AsIreadthisletterforthefirsttimeinmyfather’stypicalneathandwriting,Itriedtoimaginewhatmighthavebeengoingoninsidehim.Onlythesecondpartoftheletter,writtenafteraninterruption,bearswitnesstohisemotions.ForinthemeantimeanAmericanmissionarynamedClydePetershadlandedhisplaneonHerrWyrwich’sairfieldandhadgivenhimencouragingnews.TherewassomesupportforthetheorythattheLANSAplanemusthave

madeanemergencylandingsomewhere.Icouldtellevenbymyfather’shandwritinghowhopewasrekindledinhim.Ofcourse,Idon’thavetheslightestinklingofallthisduringmyodyssey.Ihaveonlyonethinginmind:Ihavetofindpeople.DuringthedayIswimorletmyselfdrift,andatnightInowhaveafewencounterswithlargeranimals.Atonepoint,whileI’mtryingtosleepinthemiddleofsomebushes,Ihearahissingandpawingrightnexttome.Iknowit’smostlikelynotajaguaroranocelot.Probablywhat’smakingnoisenexttomeisamajás,knownasapacainEnglish,arodentaslargeasamedium-sizeddog,withbrownfurandwhitespotsarrangedinrows.Iclearmythroat,whichgivestheanimalaterriblescare.Itrunsawayinwildbounds,loudlygrunting.

ThenextmorningIfeelasharppaininmyupperback.WhenItouchitwithmyhand,it’sbloody.WhileI’vebeenswimminginthewater,thesunhasburnedmyskin,whichisalreadypeelingoff.Theyaresecond-degreeburns,Iwilllaterlearn.Ican’tdoanythingaboutthateitherandcontinuetoletmyselfdriftinthewater.Luckily,thecurrentisgettingstronger.AsweakasIam,Ionlyhavetobecarefulnottocollidewithalogfloatingintheriverorinjuremyselfonanotherobstacle.

Mybadeyesrepeatedlyfoolme.OftenI’mconvincedthatIseetheroofofahouseontheriverbank.Myearsdeceivemetoo,andI’mcompletelysurethatIhearchickensclucking.But,ofcourse,it’snotchickens;it’sthecallofaveryparticularbird.EventhoughIknowthiscallwell,I’mtakeninbythesesounds,againandagain.ThenI’mannoyedandscoldmyself:Howcanyoubesostupid,youknowthatthosearen’tchickens.Andyetithappenstome,againandagain.Thehopeoffinally,finallyfindingpeopleisstronger.AndultimatelyIfallintoanapathyunlikeanythingI’veeverexperiencedbefore.

I’mtired.Sohorriblytired.DuringthenightsIfantasizeaboutfood.Aboutelaboratefeastsandcompletelysimplemeals.Eachmorningitgetsharderformetostandupfrommyuncomfortablespotandgetintothecoldwater.Isthereanysenseingoingon?Yes,Itellmyself,musteringallmystrength,Ihavetokeepgoing.Keepgoing.HereIwillperish.

AtonepointIsinkinthemiddleofthedayontoasandbankintheriverundertheglaringsun.Itseemstomeanidealplacetorestabit.I’vealmostdozedoff,hardlynoticinganymoretheubiquitousblackfliesontheriverbankthatareconstantlypesteringme.SuddenlyIhearasquawknearmethatIknow;youngcrocodilesmakethosenoises.WhenIopenmyeyes,Iseebabycaimans,onlyeightincheslarge,veryclosetome.Ijumpup.IknowthatI’mindanger.Assoonasthemotherofthesebabiesnoticesmypresence,shewillattackme.Andtheresheisalready,veryclose.Sherisesonherlegsandcomestowardme

threateningly.Andme?Islidemyselfbackintothewateranddrifton.I’vealready

hadencounterswithspectacledcaimans,whichweredozingontheriverbank.Whentheyhadnoticedme,theywerefrightenedandjumpedintothewatertowardme.IfIdidn’tknowthisjunglesowell,Iundoubtedlywouldhavegoneashorefullofpanicandrunintotheforest,whereIwouldprobablyhavedied.ButinsteadItrustthatwhatI’velearnedinPanguanaistrue:thatcaimansalwaysfleeintothewater,nomatterwhatdirectiontheysuspectdangeriscomingfrom,andthattheywillswimpastmeorundermebutdefinitelywon’tattackme.Buttheverypresenceofsomanycaimansisasignformethattherearenopeoplelivingonthisriver.LaterIwilllearnthatatthattimetheentireriverwasuninhabited.IfIhadsimplylaindownsomewhereandstayedthere,Iwouldneverhavebeenfound.

SoIkeepgoing.

I’mgettingweaker,canscarcelystruggletomyfeetanymore.IknowthatIhavetoeatsomethingifIdon’twanttodie.Butwhat?

It’stherainyseason,andfrogsarejumpingaroundeverywhere.AndI’mseizedbytheideathatIhavetocatchoneoftheseanimalsandeatit,eventhoughIknowtheyarepoisonarrowfrogsandwillnotagreewithme.TheIndiansusecertainspeciestopoisontheirarrows,buttheeffectofthesefrogshereistooweaktokillanadult.Still,I’mnotsurehowwellIwillstomachtheminmyweakenedstate.Nonetheless,Itryagainandagaintocatchoneofthefrogs.ButIdon’tmanagetodoit.Atonepointoneofthemissittinglessthansixinchesfrommymouth.ThemomentIgrabit,it’sgoneagain.Andthatdepressesmemorethananythingelse.

AndagainIhearthefalsechickensclucking,andagainIamfooledbythem.AtonepointI’mclosetotearswhenIrealizeI’vebeendeceivedagain.

Ispendthetenthdaydriftinginthewater.I’mconstantlybumpingintologs,anditcostsmeagreatdealofstrengthtoclimboverthemandtobecarefulnottobreakanybonesinthesecollisions.IntheeveningIfindagravelbankthatlookslikeagoodplacetosleep.Isettledownonit,dozealittle,blink;thenIseesomethingthatdoesn’tbelonghere.IthinkthatI’mdreaming,butIopenmyeyeswide,andit’sreallytrue.Thereontheriverbankisaboat.Aquitelargeone,actually,ofthesortthenativesuse.Itellmyselfthatit’snotpossible,thatI’mhallucinating.Irubmyeyes,lookthreetimes,andstillit’sthere.Aboat.

Iswimovertoitandtouchit.OnlythencanIreallybelieveit.It’snew

andinfullworkingorder.NowInoticeabeatentrailleadingfromtheriverfifteentotwentyfeetuptheslopeofthebank.Thereareevenvisiblytroddensteps.Whydidn’tIseethatbefore?Ihavetogetupthere.HereIwilldefinitelyfindpeople!ButI’msoweak.Ittakesmehourstocoverthosefewyards.

AndthenI’mfinallythere.Iseeatambo,asimpleshelter,poleswithapalmleafroof,afloormadeoutofthebarkoftheponapalm,abouttenbyfifteenfeet.Theboat’soutboardmotorisstoredhere—fortyhorsepower,Iobserve,asifthatwereimportantrightnow—andabarrelofgasoline.Nopeoplecanbeseenfarandwide,butapathleadsintotheforest,andI’mcertainthattheowneroftheboatwillstepoutofitatanymoment.AsIlookatthegasoline,Iremembermymaggots,whichsometimeshurthorriblyandhavealreadygottenabitbigger.Iwilltricklesomeofthegasolineintomywound,andthentheywillcomeoutastheydidwithLobo.Ittakesanendlesslylongtimeformetogetthebarrel’sscrewcapopen.WithalittlepieceofhoseIfindnexttoit,Isuckupthegasolineandletitdripintomywound.Atfirstthathurtsexcruciatingly,forthemaggotsinsidemyarmtrytoescapedownwardandbitetheirwaystilldeeperintomyflesh.Butfinallytheycometothesurface.Itakethirtyofthemoutofthewoundwiththebent-openring,andthenI’mexhausted.Lateritwillturnoutthatthatwasfarfromallofthem,butforthetimebeingI’mprettyproudofmyachievement.

Still,noonehascome.Itgetsdark,andIdecidetospendthenighthere.AtfirstItrythefloorofthehut,buttheponabarkissohardthatI’dratherfindaspotonthesandyriverbank.Iborrowatarpthatisalsolyinginthehut,covermyselfupwithitand,thusprotectedfromthegnats,sleepdivinelythatnight,betterthaninanyfive-starhotel.

ThenextmorningIwakeup,andstillnoonehasshownup.IwonderwhatIshoulddo.Perhapsnoonewillcomehereforthenextfewweeks.Iknowthatthereareshelterslikethisinthejunglethattrappersorwoodcuttersuseonlysporadically.PerhapsIreallyshouldkeepgoing?OnlybrieflydoIconsidertakingtheboatandheadingdownriver,butitdoesn’tseemrighttome.Whoknows?Perhapstheownerissomewhereintheforesthere,Ithink,andwhenhecomesback,he’llneedhisboat.Icannotpossiblysavemyownlifeandjeopardizeanother’s.Besides,I’mnotsurewhetherinmyweakenedstateI’mevencapableofmaneuveringtheboatdownthisriver.WhileI’mthinkingaboutthisandunabletodecidewhethertogetbackintheriver,middaycomes.Andthenitbeginspouringrain.Icrawlintothetambo,wrapthetarparoundmyshouldersandfeelnothing.NowandthenItrytocatchafrog,invain.

Intheafternoontherainstops,andmymindtellsmethatIhavetokeep

going.AgainstallcommonsenseIsimplyremainsitting.Idon’thavethestrengthanymoretostruggletomyfeet.Iwillrestforonemoreday,Ithink,andtomorrowI’llgoon.Despairalternateswithhope;powerlessnesswithnewresolve.

Ithinkthatalltheothersmusthavebeenfoundalongtimeago,andI’mtheonlyonestillouthere.Thethoughtoccurstomehowstrangeitisthatapersoncandisappearjustlikethat,andnooneknowsaboutit.It’sapeculiarfeeling,whichfillsmychestandgoestomydepths.IworrythatImightdiehere,andnoonewilleverknowwhatbecameofme.NoonewilleverfindoutwhatanarduousjourneyIundertook,howfarIhavecome.I’mawarethatIamslowlybutsurelystarving.Ihavegonetoolongwithouteatinganything.Ialwaysthoughtthatwhenyoustarve,ithurtsterribly.ButIhavenopain.Idon’tevenfeelhungry.Iamonlysohorriblyexhaustedandweak.AgainItrytocatchoneofthefrogs.Againandagain.Thusthedaypasses.

It’salreadytwilightwhenIsuddenlyhearvoices.Ican’tbelieveit!Afterallthistimeinsolitude,it’sinconceivabletome.I’mimaginingit,Ithink,asIhavesomanyotherthingsalready.Buttheyreallyarehumanvoices.They’reapproaching.Andthenthreemencomeoutoftheforestandstopinshock.Theyevenrecoilinvoluntarily.IbegintospeaktotheminSpanish.

“I’magirlwhowasintheLANSAcrash,”Isay.“MynameisJuliane.”Thentheycomecloserandstareatmeinastonishment.

10TheReturn

Awitnesstothedevastation:atemperaturegaugefromthecockpitoftheLANSAplane,1998.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

It’sJanuary3,1972.SomeoftheLANSApassengers’familymembershavelosthope.Tendaysafterthedisaster,theprospectoffindingsurvivorsfades.Thesearchforthemissingairplaneisofficiallyabandoned.Onlythepatrolmadeupofciviliansandfamilymembersdoesnotyetgiveup.ThenumerousjournalistswhocametoPucallpaonChristmas,andhavecontinuouslybesiegedthecitysincethen,depart—thestoryseemstobeover.MyfatherisstayingonthefarmbelongingtohisacquaintancePeterWyrwich.Hashe,too,acceptedthefactthathehaslosthiswifeanddaughter?

Meanwhile,BeltránParedes,CarlosVásquezandNestorAmasifuén,forthosearethenamesofthethreeforestworkerswhofindmeintheircamp,kindlytakecareofme.Theygivemefariñatoeat,amixtureofroastedandgratedmanioc,waterandsugar,thetypicalfareoftheforestworkers,huntersandgoldpanners.ButIcangetalmostnothingdown.Aswellastheycan,theyattendtomywoundsandtakestillmoremaggotsoutofmyarm.

“Byallthat’ssacred,”DonBeltránconfessestomeashepicksoneafteranotheroutofmywound,“atthefirstmomentIthoughtyouwerethewatergoddess,Yacumama.”

“Why?”Iaskwithsurprise.Iknowwhomhemeans.YacumamaisthenametheIndiansgivetoanaturegoddesswholivesinthewater.Pregnantwomenhavetoavoidlookingatheratallcosts,orelseshewillcomelaterandtakethechild.ButwhydidtheythinkIwasshe?

“Well,becauseyou’resoblond.Andbecauseofyoureyes.Andbecausethere’snoonelivingherefarandwide.Especiallynotanywhites.Goodthingyouspoketousrightaway.”

That’showIlearnthatthisriverreallyiscompletelyuninhabited.“Whatabouttheotherpassengers?”Iaskthemen.“Werethey

rescued?”Speechless,themenlookatmewithwideeyes.Finallyoneofthem

pullshimselftogether.It’sDonNestor,andhisvoicesoundshoarse.“No,señorita,”hesays,“noteventheairplanehasbeenfound.Ithas

simplydisappearedinthejungle,asifitcloseditsfistaroundit.AsfarasIknow,youaretheonlysurvivor.”

Theonlysurvivor?Me?Thatseemsinconceivabletome.IfI’mtheonlyone…thatmeans…Itrynottofinishthisthought,butcan’thelpit:Mymotherwasn’tfoundeither?

“Noone,”confirmsDonCarlos,whohasbeensilentuntilnow.Only

nowdoIrealizethatIspokemythoughtaloud.“It’samiraclethatyou’veturneduphere,thatyou’realive,abletotalktous.Andthatwecamehere.Forweactuallyweren’tgoingto.Whentheraincametoday,weconsideredwhethertogototheshelterornot.Tobehonest,wecheckontheboatprettyrarely.Wemightwellnothavecomeatall.ButNestorsaid,‘Oh,comeon,theweatherisdeceptive.Let’sgotothetambo.Therewe’llatleasthavearoofoverourheads.’Icanstillhardlybelieveit.Howlongwereyouonthemove?”

Themengivemepantsandashirttoputon.Ieatoneortwospoonfulsofthesour-smellingfariña.ThenI’malreadyfull.Apparently,mystomachhasshrunk.

Suddenlyanothertwomencomeoutofthedarkness.Thebadweather—orfate?—leadsthemalltothisshelter,todayofalldays.It’sAmadoPereiraandMarcioRivera,andthey,too,arethunderstruckwhentheyseeme.

“Whomdowehavehere?”DonMarcioaskswithsurprise.AndagainIhavetotellwhathappened.Againtheresponseispure

astonishment.Weexchangeinformation,andIlearndetailsaboutthelarge-scalebutunsuccessfulsearchoperation.Thateveningwespeakforalongtime.

“We’llgetyououtofhere,”saysDonMarcio,andheconferswiththeothermen.Actually,theywanttogetmeasquicklyaspossibletoadoctor,asiftheywereafraidImighthavemoreseriousinjuries,afterall,andcoulddieonthem.Butthentheyagreethatit’ssafertospendthenighthere.Thethreemenwhofirstfoundmewillremainintheforest,astheyoriginallyintended.DonMarcioandDonAmadovolunteertotakemetoTournavistaearlythenextmorningintheboat.

ThatnightIdon’tdaretosayhowuncomfortableIfindthepalm-barkfloorintheshelterandthatI’drathersleepinthesand.Soallsixofusspendthenightinthetambo.Themengivemetheironlymosquitonet,butIsleeppoorly,anyway.Mywounds,outofwhichwehavemeanwhiletakenaboutfiftymaggots,hurtunbearably.Earlyinthemorning,whenit’sstilldark,wesetoff.Itrytowalk,buttheycarrymeoverthelaststretch,laymeintheboatandcovermewithatarp.

AndthenIsimplyletgo.I’msoboundlesslytired.Idozeoff,againandagain.DuringmywakinghoursIlookattheriverbankglidingpastmeandtalktothemen.Ilearnthenameoftheriver.It’stheRíoShebonya,anditreallyisstillcompletelyuninhabited.

It’snotlongbeforethestoryofmyrescuefillsnewspapersallovertheworldin

themostunbelievablevariations.ThewildestversionisthemyththatIbuiltaraftformyself,outofbranchesandleaves,andfloateddowntheRíoShebonyaonit.Indianssawmedriftingby,unconscious,andpulledtheraftashore.WhenIcameto,Isaidonly:“Therearedeadpeople,”andthenIpassedoutagain.Onceit’soutthere,hundredsofjournalistscopythisaccount.EventodayyoucanstillreaditinnewspapersorontheInternet.I’vereceivedlettersmainlyfromrational-mindedchildrenlikethosefirstgradersfromWarnerRobinsintheUnitedStateswhowerejustifiablyeagertoknowhowImanagedtobuildaraftwithoutanytools.Andwhydidn’tmyraftmadeofbranchesandleavessink?OtherreportsdescribemyjourneyontheboatwithDonMarcioandDonAmadolikethis:Thenshefellintoadeepoblivion.Thatwasnotthecase.Onthecontrary—thoughIrepeatedlynoddedoff,Itookinmuchofthemonotonousjourney.

Thetripgoesonforever,andit’salongtimebeforewefinallyreachthemouthoftheRíoShebonyawhereitflowsintotheRíoPachitea.OnthebankofthePachitealiesthevillageofTournavista.Itbecomescleartome:Icouldneverhavemanagedthisalone.

Aroundnoonthemenstoptoeatsomething.Wegoashoretoahouseinthemiddleofapasture.AsIapproach,somechildrenrunaway,screaming;andawomanturnsawaywithhorror,herhandpressedtohermouth:“Thoseeyes!Ican’tlookatthem!OhGod,thoseterribleeyes!”

Iaskmycompanions:“What’swrongwithher?What’sgoingonwithmyeyes?”

Andthentheyexplaintomethatmyeyesarecompletelyred.Apparently,allthebloodvesselshaveburst,andthere’snowhiteleft,everythingisbloodred.Eventheirishasturnedred.I’msurprised,forIcanseequitewell.

LaterIwilllookinamirrorandunderstandwellthewoman’sterror.ItreallydoeslookasifInolongerhaveeyes,butonlybloodysockets.NowonderthesepeopleherethinkI’majunglespirit.Nonetheless,theygivemeabowlofsoup,butagainIgetalmostnothingdown.

Aroundfouro’clockintheafternoon,wedockinTournavista.Ourarrivalprovokesgreatexcitement.Immediatelyastretcherisbroughtover,andIfindthatembarrassing,forIcanwalkonmyown!

ThenursewhocomestomeetmeIknowfromthepast.HernameisAmandadelPino,andsheoncegavemeatetanusshot,backbeforeIcametoPanguana.Nowshewantstogivemepenicillin,butIrefuse.Myfatherishighly

allergictothisantibiotic,andIdon’tknowwhetherImighthaveinheritedthisintolerancefromhim.SisterAmandaletsherselfbepersuaded,andsheinjectsmewithadifferentmedication.

Everyoneisverycarefulwithme.Theyhandlemewithkidgloves.SomeonetakesaphotothatwillsoonappearinLifemagazine.Init,I’mstandingonaporch.Someonehasputabathrobeovermyshoulders.Thenurseisholdingmebythearmandlooksveryconcerned.Shebarelyasksmeanyquestions.Still,thenextdaythere’saninterviewinthenewspaperthatIdefinitelydidn’tgive.

Aftermywoundshavebeencleanedanddisinfected,andI’vereceivedaninjection,anAmericanfemalepilotnamedJerrieCobbappearsandofferstotakemeonherplanetotheInstitutoLinguísticodeVeranoinYarinacocha,wherethemissionariesarestudyingthelanguagesoftheIndiansandtranslatingtheBible.Therearesomedoctorsthere,shesays,andIcouldgetbettertreatmentandrecovercomfortably.Thoughtheprospectofgettingonaplaneagainfrightensme,I’mtooweaktoprotestenergetically.Andshe’sprobablyright,Ithink.

Soashorttimelater,I’maboardatwin-engineIslander,andasJerrieCobbtriestoreassuremewiththeinformationthatshe’sthefirstwomanintheworldtobetrainedasanastronaut,andwithherIwillflyassafelyasinthearmsofanangel,Idon’tfindthestrengthtoinsistonbeingallowedtoflysittingup.Jerriefindsitsaferformetoliedown,andsothetwenty-minuteflightbecomesatormentforme.Aboveall,ithappenswhenJerrie,whoapparentlydoesn’tnoticemyfear,reallyleanstheairplaneintotheturns.

The“linguists,”asthemissionariesoftheWycliffeBibleTranslatorsinYarinacochaaregenerallycalled,givemeawarmwelcome.ThefamilyofDr.FrankLindholmtakesmein,andimmediatelyIreceivemedicalattentionagain.Thedoctorremovesmoremaggotsfrommyarm,aswellasfromthecutinmyleg,inwhichthebeastshadalsonested.Theholeinmyarmisdeep.Howdeepnooneknowsexactly,andthereforeInowreceivethefirstofcountlesstreatmentsduringwhichIhavetoclenchmyteethtokeepfromscreamingloudly:Dr.Lindholmsoaksatwenty-inchstripofgauzeiniodoformandstuffsitdeepintothewound.Ithastoremainthereuntilthenextday,whenitwillbepulledoutandreplacedwithanewone.That’stheonlyway,heexplainstome,tomakesurethatthetubularwoundhealscleanlyfromtheinsidetotheoutside.Thenhepullsaprettylongwoodensplinteroutofthesoleofmyfoot,whichIhadn’tevenperceived.AllovermybodyIhaveinsectbites,whichareinflamedandswollen.Thesearenowtreatedtoo.

Whenthisisover,I’maskedwhatI’dliketoeat.OnimpulseIsay:“Achickensandwich.”Tomygreatjoytheyimmediatelymakemeone,andIeatitveryenthusiastically.

I’msafe.AndwiththiscertaintyIfallintoadeepsleep.

Intherestaurantourfoodisserved.It’sagorgeouslateafternoon.Thelightglistensgoldonthewater,gentlyrippledbythewind.Overthere,abitfartherupthelagoon,iswhereIrestedbacktheninDr.Lindholm’shouse.Todaythereareonlyafewlinguistsleftthere.WhenIcamewithWernerHerzog,theyalreadyhadtoreducethesizeoftheircamp.Justafewmonthsago,afteraninterviewwithmewasbroadcastonCNN,thewidowofanotherdoctor,whomIhadmovedinwithafterseveraldays,Mrs.FranHolston,sentmeaphotoshowingmewithhertwodaughtersinthegarden.YoucanscarcelytellbylookingatmeinthispicturethatIhadjustgonethroughthateleven-dayodyssey.Inaskirtandblouse,borrowedclothes,I’msmilingatthecamera.IwassurprisedhowlittleIfeltatthesightofthisphotograph,asifthegirlinitweresomeoneelseentirely.IhadasimilarexperienceduringtheshootingofthedocumentaryWingsofHopewithWernerHerzog.

Tothisdayitseemstomeastrokeofgoodfortunethatin1998ourtelephonerangathomeinMunichandamanintroducedhimselfwiththewords:“MynameisWernerHerzog.I’mafilmdirector.Iwouldliketomakeadocumentaryaboutyourfate.”

Bythattimethecrashwastwenty-sevenyearsinthepast.Ihadn’thadmanygoodexperienceswithjournalistsandfilmmakers,andsohadshiedawayfromallthat,yearsago.ThosedaysIrejectedinterviewrequestscategorically,andwasallthemoreaverse,ofcourse,toappearancesontalkshows.Iwastiredofbeingaskedthesamequestionsoverandoveragain,allmylife,andbeingperceivedexclusivelyastheraresurvivorofanunbelievablestory.Sincethen,Ihadalifeofmyown,hadbeenmarriedfornineyears,andtherewasinmyopinionahostoftopicsmoreexcitingthanrehashing,againandagain,thedetailsofthecrash.Especiallysinceithadbeenmyexperiencethat,whateverIsaid,thejournalistsseemednottolistenandintheendwouldwritewhattheyhadalreadyimagined,anyhow,orwhattheythoughtthereaderswantedtohear.ButsuddenlyIhadWernerHerzogonthetelephone,andhewantedtoshootafilmwithme!

Heapparentlysensedmyhesitation,forhesaid:“Ifyouwantmoreinformationaboutme,thenyoucanreadaboutmeontheInternet.Iwouldalsobehappytosendyouafewofmyfilms.”

“That’snotnecessary,”IsaidafterIhadovercomemyinitialsurprise.“Ofcourse,Iknowwhoyouare,Mr.Herzog.”Ihadalwaysadmiredthisextraordinarydirector.Ihadseenmanyofhisfilms.IcouldhardlybelieveIwastalkingtohimonthetelephone.Andhisproposalalsoseemedunbelievabletomeatfirst.

ForWernerHerzogdidnotjustwanttoconductinterviewswithme,assomanyothershaddone.Hewasplanningsomethingunheardof:twenty-sevenyearsafterthecrash,hewantedtoreturnwithmetotheplacewhereeverythinghadhappened.Healsowantedtoretracemypathbacktootherpeople.ShouldIactuallydoit?Ontheotherhand:Howcananyonereallyturndownanofferlikethat?

HerzogsuggestedthatIthinkabouteverything.HesentmebooksandsomeofhisfilmsIhadn’tyetseen,andgavemetime.Iconsultedwithmyhusband,forhisopinionwasalwaysreallyimportanttome.Hehasincredibleinsightintopeople,andIknowthatIcanrelyonhisadvice.Hesaid:“Maybeitwillbegoodforyou.Youwillprobablyneverhaveanopportunitylikethisagain.”

AndsoIcontactedWernerHerzogandinformedhimthatIwasinterestedinhisproject.WemetatanexcellentMunichrestaurant.OnthisoccasionIbecameacquaintedwiththecameramanErikSöllner.Later,too,duringthefilming,WernerHerzogsetgreatstorebyhisopinion.

ThateveningHerzogexplainedhisplantous:HewantedtosendanexpeditiontofindandmakeaccessiblethespotwherethewreckageoftheLockheedL-188AElectrastilllayscatteredinthejungle,forthecrashsitewasstillroughlyknownamongthelocals.IputWernerHerzogincontactwithMoro,whohadlookedafterPanguanaoveralltheyearsduringwhichIcouldn’tcometotheresearchstation.Despitehishelpandthatofseveralnatives,threeexpeditionsHerzogsenttolocatethewreckageoftheLockheedElectrareturnedempty-handed.Onlythefourthwassuccessful.Togetherwithhisthen-eight-year-oldson,thedirectorproceededtothelocationtoviewthepiecesofwreckage,whichwerestrewnoverastretchofabouttenmilesinthejungle.

OnhisreturntoMunich,hetoldmethatI’dbeamazedhowwellsomeofthewreckagewasstillpreserved.Buthealsohadtofacethefactthattheterrainwassoroughthatonsomedaysittookexperiencednativemacheteroshourstoadvanceevenonlyahundredyards.Thefilmcrew,alongwithalltheequipment,couldn’tpossiblymakeittothecrashsiteonfoot.Severaltimesitlookedasiftheprojectmightfail,butnotwithWernerHerzog.Hebalkedatnomeansorexertiontoputhisplanintoaction.Ifyoucouldn’tgetthereonfoot,

thenitwouldhavetobebyair.Andsohedecidedtohaveasmallswathcutinthejunglenearthelargestpiecesofwreckage,justlargeenoughsoahelicoptercouldland.

Everyonethoughtthatallthiswouldupsetmeterribly,buttomyastonishmentIrealizedthatIwasconfrontingeverythingoddlyemotionlessly.Morethantheprospectofseeingtheplaceagain,whatmademenervouswasthefactthatI’dhavetospeakoncamera,andIwonderedwhetherIwouldmanagethatwellenough.MyhusbandalwayssaysthatI’maperfectionist,andheisundoubtedlyright.Butwhenyou’restandinginfrontofthecameraforsomeonelikeWernerHerzog,thenyouultimatelywanttodoagoodjob.Andthen,inearlyAugust1998,thingsgotunderway.

WithAmericanAirlines,weflewviaDallastoPeru,whichwasnottheshortestrouteandmadethetripstilllongerandmorearduousthanadirectflightfromEuropealreadyis,anyhow.Butthatairlinepermittedsubstantiallymorebaggagethananyother,and,ofcourse,afilmcrewhasagreatdealofluggageandequipment.Someofithadbeensentaheadalready,andonceagainitwasAlwinRahmelwhosawtoitthateverythinggotthroughcustomssmoothly.

Withthecrewwegotalongexcellentlyfromthebeginning.Everythingwasperfectlyorganized,andIenjoyednothavingtoworryaboutanything,foronce.InLima,wevisitedthearchivesofthetwolargenewspapers,LaPrensaandElComercio.HereIsawphotosofanotherLANSAcrash,theonenearCuzco,picturesofcorpsesonafieldthatweresohorriblethattheycouldnotbepublishedatthetime.Thebodieswerebattered,twistedandcontortedfromtheimpact,andthesightshockedmeprofoundly,forI,ofcourse,couldnothelpthinkingconstantlyofmyownaccidentandinwhatconditionthepeoplemusthavebeenwhohadnotbeenasluckyasIwas.

Itreallywasastrangejourneythedirectortookmeon.Topersuademetogetonanairplaneagain,twenty-sevenyearsaftermyaccident,thatflewtheexactsamerouteastheoneonwhichIcrashedwasstillrelativelysimple.Afterall,Ihadalreadyhadtotakethatflightseveraltimessincethentosavetimegettingtothejungle.ButheevenputmeinthesameseatasontheLANSAplaneoutofwhichIfellfromtheskybackthen:row19,seatF.Actually,Iwouldhavepreferredtohavetraveledbybus,forhere,too,agreatdealhadchangedsincethedaysofmyyouth,andnowittook“only”twentyhoursfromLimatoPucallpa.ButWernerHerzogisamanwithgreatpowersofpersuasion,andsoIchangedmymindandagreedtoflywithhim.TodayI’mgladIdidso.Forifthefilmmakerhadnotbroughtmeface-to-facewiththatpartofmypastanddrawnmeclosertothepublicagain,whoknowswhetherIwouldnowbe

capableofadvocatingthiswayforPanguanatoalargeraudience?SoIovercamemyfear.Andoncameraweflewoverthespotwhereit

hadhappened.WernerHerzogusedthatmoment,ofcourse,andinterviewedme:AtthatexactpointIrecountedhowIhadexperiencedthecrash.Andfortunatelyitwentsowellonthefirsttry,wedidn’thavetorepeatit.Myhusbandwasatmysidethewholetime,andthatwasenormouslyimportantforme.Ibelievethatyoucantellinthisfilmhowmuchwesupporteachother,howmuchwe’rethereforeachotherwhentheotherneedsit.

OnthewayfromPucallpatothejungle,Iexperiencedmanyasurprise.AlongthenewCarreteraMarginaldelaSelva,theforestwasbeingclearedeverywhere.Withsawandfirecivilizationwasboringitswayintothewilderness.Myheartbled,forIknewquitewellhowmuchlifeperishedintheflames.Meanwhile,anironbridgehadbeenbuiltacrosstheRíoShebonya,theriverIfollowed;andacouplemilesfromit,awomanfromtheAndeshadopenedakiosk,wherewestoppedtogetsomethingtodrink.IdidnotbelievemyeyeswhenIsawwhatshehadleanedagainsttheoutsideofthehouse:ItwasactuallyafullyintactdoorfromtheLANSAplane,whichsomeonemusthavebroughthere.OnittheIndianwomanhadwritteninflawedSpanish:Juliana’sdoor.Thisenterprisingwomanhadapparentlyrealizedimmediatelywhatamagicalappealthisrelicofmypastwouldhave.Indeed,everyoneItalktoaboutitcallsthiskiosk,whichhasmeanwhilegrownintoasmallgrocerystorethatsellsdrinks,“TheDoor.”Ofcourse,WernerHerzogfilmedmethere.WheneverI’vepassedbysincethen,thepeopleaccompanyingmesay,“Juliane,standthereforamoment,please,”andtheytakeaphoto.Thatstillfeelsstrangetome.Ifinditunpleasant,becauseformeit’snotatouristattraction,butadoorthroughwhichninety-onepeoplewenttotheirdeaths,includingmymother.Iwastheonlysurvivor.Andthathaspreoccupiedmeagreatdealeversince.

Thatdoorchangesconstantly:eachtimeIcomeby,itlooksdifferent.Somethingnewiswrittenonit,orsomethingispaintedover.Forexample,writtenonitrecentlywas:ThisisthedoorthroughwhichJhulianaescaped.Whichis,ofcourse,nottrue.Oncetheownerofthekioskheardthatshehadmisspelledmynameandthedatewasincorrect,shetookmeasideandsaid:“Nowyouhavetowritedownyournamecorrectlyforme,sothatIcandoitright.”Andthosearethemomentswheneverythingcomesupinme.Havethingsalreadycomesofarthatsomeonecandobusinesssodirectlywiththehorrorofthattime?Andthentheyarebackagain,thefeelingsofthosedays,evenifonlyforbriefmoments.

Ofcourse,Iquicklypushallthatbackdown.Forpeoplecan’thelpit,and,ofcourse,theydon’tmeananyharm.AndIrealizehowdeadenedI’vebecomesincethen,outofsheerconsiderationandunderstanding.Wasthereeveractuallyatimeinwhichtherewasspaceformyoriginal,unbridledfeelings,uncensoredbyrationality?IwaspreoccupiedwiththesequestionsasItraveledontowardPanguanawithWernerHerzog’sfilmcrew.

IhadnotbeenbacktoPanguanaforfourteenyears.UntilrecentlythepresenceoftheterroristorganizationMovimientoRevolucionarioTúpacAmaruintheareahadmadeanytripintoalife-threateningrisk.Meanwhile,theoriginalhousesinwhichIhadlivedwithmyparentshaddecayed.MyfatherhadhiredMorotobuildanewguesthouse:awoodenhutonstilts,likeallthehouseshereintherainforest,withthreesmallroomsandacoveredterrace.NowIcouldtakeacloselookatitforthefirsttime.MyhusbandandIstayedwithMoro’sfamily,whohadrelocatedtheirfarmtotheedgeofPanguana’sgrounds,sothattheycouldbetterlookaftereverything.Andthenot-exactly-smallfilmcrewmanagedtopileintotheroomsoftheguesthouseandontothedeck.

Howmanymemoriescamebackup!Theriverwasstillthesame,andfortunatelytheforesttoohadscarcelychanged.Thecallsofthebirdsthatmymotherhadstudiedsoextensively,thewonderfullupunatreetoweringatits150-footheightfaroveralltheothers,thebutterfliesandotherinsects—everythingremindedmeofthoseyearswhenmyworldwasstillintact.Iwanderedasinadreamthroughtheplacesofmychildhood,gratefulandamazedthatIcouldstillmoveintherainforestintheexactsamewayIhadlearnedtodoasachild.“It’slikeridingabike,”myhusbandobserved,laughing.“Youneverforgethowtodoit.”

WewenttoPuertoInca,andtherewemetDonMarcio,whohadbroughtmetoTournavistabackthen.Itwasareallymovingencounterforme,afterallthoseyears.Alongwithmanyothers,DonMarciohadhelpedsearchforthewreckageforthedocumentary.Once,hehadevensetoffonhisown.Unfortunately,hewasinjuredbyastingray.ItstuckitspoisonousstingerthroughDonMarcio’srubberbootandintohisheel,causinghisfoottoswellintenselyandbecomeinflamed.Duetothisincidenthemightalmosthavediedinthejungle,ifaboathadn’tpassedby.ButsinceDonMarciohadalmostnomoneywithhim,thesepeopledidn’twanttotakehimalong.Sooutofnecessityheofferedthemhisrifle,avaluableiteminthejungle,andsotheyletthemselvesbepersuadedtotaketheinjuredmanontotheirboat.

I’dheardofhisbadluck,andboughtbacktheriflewithWerner

Herzog’shelp.Nowwebroughtitbacktohim,asmallfavorinreturnforwhathehadoncedoneforme.AtthatmeetingIsaid:“DonMarcio,yousavedmebackthen.”Butheshookhisheadandsaidearnestly:“NotI,butGodsavedyou,Juliana.Ionlygottobehisvessel.”

WhenwewereabouttodepartinthehelicopterthatwasalreadywaitingforusinPuertoInca,therewasadelay.Forthepilothaddiscoveredonanearlierflightthatthetreesintheclearingwhereweweresupposedtolandhadnotbeencutdownlowenough.Thestumpswerestillafewfeethigh,andthatwaslifethreatening.Sotheyhadtobeclearedagain,andonlythencouldwesetoff.

I’dneverflowninahelicopterbefore,andIfoundthatreallyinteresting.Howyoucansimplyriseverticallyandhoverinonespotintheair—thatwasextremelyexcitingforme,assomeonewhoasalittlegirlhadalreadybeenmoreinterestedintechnicalthingsthandolls.

Andthenwelandedthere,inthemiddleofthejungle,ontopofahill.Wewerealargecrewwithacookandmacheteros,whohelpeduscutthepath.Somehadflownaheadandhadalreadysetupatemporarycampwithmosquitonetsunderlargeplastictarps.MyhusbandandIgotatwo-persontentsomewhatawayfromtheothers,whichwasaluxuryinthisjunglecamp.Allprovisions,includingdrinkingwater,hadtobebroughtwithus,foritwasthedryseason.AndwithGermanthoroughnessatoiletwasimmediatelydugaswell,asimplepitwithanouthouseoverit.

Tomysurprisetherewasatremendousnumberofsweatbeesthereonthehill.Eventhoughtheydon’tsting,hundredsofthemsticktoyou,whichisverybothersome.Allofussufferedfromit.ThecrewwasimpressedwithhowstoicallyIenduredthis,butthatwassimplyduetothefactthatIwasintentlyfocusedonspeakingmylinesaswellaspossibleandnothavingtorepeatthemallthetime.Inthefilmthereisashotofmyarm,wherethesecreaturesarejustrompingabout.Atthetimeofmyjourneythroughthejungle,Ididnothavetoendurethis,fordownbythestreamtherewerenosweatbees.

Itwasapeculiarplace,ourcampinthejungle.Allaroundusintheforest,thepartsoftheairplanewerescattered.Atfirsttheycouldn’tbeseenatall.Overallthoseyearsthejunglehadabsorbedthem.Butthen,allofasudden,theyrevealedthemselves,andthatwasalwaysanextremelyastonishingsight—aboveall,becausetheywerestillinsuchgoodcondition.

Wefoundwreckagethatlookedasifithadjustfallenintothejungle.Sincemostofthepiecesweremadeofstainlesssteeloraluminum,alltheyearsinthehumidityofthejunglehadapparentlypassedthembywithoutatrace.Therainforesthadappropriatedthem,grownoverandaroundthem,pulledtheminto

itsgroundasiftheybelongedtoit.Oftenyoucouldn’trecognizeanythinguntiloneofthemacheteros,whohadhelpedfindthecrashsite,setuprightaprettylargepieceoftheairplane’ssidewallandbrushedoffleaves,mossandlichens:Thepaintandwritingonitwerelikenew.ItwasasifIwereinadream.

IsawallthepiecesoftheairplaneinwhichIhadoncesat,inwhichIhadcrossedtheAndes,surfacefromthegreenoftherainforest.Andyetitscarcelyaffectedme.Ifounditextremelyinteresting,eventhesmallerfindslikeapieceofoneofthetraysfromwhichI,too,hadeatenmylastbreakfastbeforethecrash,ortheremainsofaplasticspoon,awalletcontainingcoinsthathadsincebecomeinvalid,fragmentsofthecarpetonwhicheventhecolorcouldstillbemadeout,theheelofawoman’sshoe,themetalframeofasuitcasewhoseclaspswereincongruouslystilllockedwhilethematerialthathadoriginallycoveredithaddisappeared.Allthatfascinatedmeprofoundly,butitdidn’tstrikeanychordinsideme.ItwasasifIwereanoutsiderviewingadistantspectacle.

Whatastoundedmewas:Theairplanepartsseemedsountouched.WealsofoundapropellerandtheturbineIhadalreadyencounteredonmytrekbackthen.Andathree-personseatthatwasbetterpreservedthanalltheotherswefound.WeassumedthatitcouldbetheonewithwhichIfellfromthesky.Italsofascinatedmethatairplaneswereflyingoverus.WewereexactlybelowtheflightpathbetweenLimaandPucallpa.Sothepilotbackthenhadnoteventriedtoavoidthestorm.

Toseethestreamagainthathadledmeoutoftheforestandthussavedmylifewasalsostrangelyunrealtome.Thecoursesofstreamscancertainlybealteredovertheyearsintherainforest,justasthevegetationisconstantlychanging,andyetIhadthedistinctfeelingthatIhadbeeninthatspotbefore.WhenwearrivedattheRíoShebonya,wecameuponalotofbutterfliesatonepointonthebank,andWernerHerzoghadtheideaofshootingasceneinwhichIwalkthroughtheircolorfulcloud.ButhowtoexplaintothemthattheyshouldgatheratWernerHerzog’sdirection?Ourknowledgeaszoologistshelpedthere,formyhusbandsaid:“That’sverysimple!Allofushavetopeetherenow,andthenthebutterflieswillcomeindroves.”

Nosoonersaidthandone.Thewholefilmcrewpeedonthatspot,andthat’showthebeautifulscenewasmadeinwhichIwalkthroughaflutteringswarmofbutterflies—afittingmetaphorformyflight,thecrashandmyjourneybacktolife.

Andfinallywefoundamongallthewreckagesomethingthatdidaffectmedeeply.Againitwasinitiallyhardtorecognize,eventhoughitwasgiganticinsize.Itwaspartofthelandinggearstilllyingintheforestwiththewheels

pointingupward.Lyingtherelikethat,itremindedmeterriblyoftheremainsofadeadbird,areallivingthingstrandedhelplesslywithitsfeetpointingupward.

Idon’tknowwhatpeoplewereexpecting—whethertheythoughtthatIwouldburstintotearsorundergoapowerfulemotionaleruption.I’veneverbeenthetypeforthat.Ontopofthat,somesurvivalinstinctmusthaveformedaprotectiveshieldaroundmeovertheyears,allowingmetoleadaso-callednormallife.TodayIalsothink:TheshockIundoubtedlysufferedduringmyplungefromaheightoftenthousandfeetlasteduntilduringthefilming.Tothisdayithasnotyetcompletelydissipated.Andprobablythat’sallright.It’samechanismthatallowsustolivewithamonstrousexperience,todealwithitasifitwereabirthmarkthatbelongstous,ascar,anaffliction.Orsometimesevenablessing.Whocandecide?

Buttoday,asIlookoutovertheYarinacochaLagoon,IsensethatthetimewhenIhavetokeepthosememoriesatadistanceisnowover.Nowthetimehascometospeakaboutit.Allthoseyearsitwasn’tpossible.TheworkwithWernerHerzog,whichIreallyenjoyedandforwhichIamstillextraordinarilygratefultohim,helpedmeagreatstretchofthewaytoworkingthroughmypast.Forme,someonewhohasnevergonetoatherapist,Herzog’sfilmwork,hisempatheticquestionsandhisabilitytotrulylisten,aswellasthechancetoreturnwithhimtothesiteofterror,werethebesttherapy.Sincethen,Ihavefoundpeaceandinnerstability.AndyetanotherthirteenyearshadtopassbeforeitwouldbecomepossibleformetotellmystorymorefullythanIhaddoneeverbefore.WernerHerzog’scarefuldocumentationhadsetthecourseforthat,makingitpossibleformetowritethisbooktoday.I’veputitoffforalongtime.TodayIamreadyforit.

SurveyingtheLANSAwreckagesitewiththefamousfilmdirector/producerWernerHerzog,1998.(Copyright©1998,WernerHerzogFilm)

Anexaminationofthewreckage:theframeofasuitcaseandapartofthesidepanel.(Copyright©1998,WernerHerzogFilm)

11OneSurvived!

Afterthecrash,Irecoveredinthedoctor’shomeatthemissionstationinPeru’sYarinacochadistrict,1972.(Copyright©1972Sternmagazine)

WhileI’mlyinginadeepsleepinDr.Lindholm’shousethenightaftermyrescue,allhellbreakslooseinPucallpa.AndnotjustPucallpa—theunbelievablenewsofmymiraculousrescuespreadsallovertheworld!NosoonerhadwearrivedinTournavistathananamateurradiooperatoralreadybroadcastthenewsovertheetheratfouro’clockintheafternoon.Theotherpassengers’families,havingjustreconciledthemselvestotheinescapableandtryingtocometotermswiththedeathoftheirlovedones,nowreverttoamadeuphoria.Thehopethatothersmightalsohavesurvivedisrekindled.IntheeveningeverythingthathaslegsgoesoutintothestreetsandstreamstothePlazadeArmas.Atfirstpeoplecannotevenbelievethegoodnews.

ThatsamenightthecomandanteoftheFuerzaAéreadelPerú,ManueldelCarpio,whoisinchargeofthesearchoperation,callsapressconference.Heconfirmsmyrescue,butprohibitsanycontactwithmewiththeargumentthatI’minshockandhavetorecover.HementionsthatI’monlymildlyinjured,whichonlyincreasesthehopeamongthepassengers’families.IfJulianeisn’tseriouslyinjured,thenshouldn’tothersbeabletobesavedtoo?Andanothervaluablepieceofinformationspreadslikewildfire.ForduringourtripontheRíoShebonya,IdescribedtoDonMarcioandDonAmadohowthespotlookedwherethestreamIwasfollowingflowedintotheRíoShebonya.Imentionedthecañabrava,andsincetheywerefamiliarwiththearea,theyknewthatthosegiganticreedsgrowingreatabundancebyonlyoneoutlet:thatoftheQuebradaRaya,the“StingrayStream.”

Soithappensthatearlythenextmorning,thepilotRobertWenninger,fromthemissionaryaidorganizationAlasdeEsperanza,boardshisairplaneandisdirectedbythetwoforestworkersMarcioRiveraandAmadoPereira.TheyflyoverthemouthoftheriverandfollowtheQuebradaRaya.Ataroundteno’clockinthemorning,theyalreadysightthefirstlargepieceofwreckagefromtheLANSAplane’sfuselage.

WhenIwakeupthatmorning,Ihavenoideaaboutallthis,ofcourse.Everythingappearssounrealtome.I’mlyinginaprettylarge,divinelycomfortablebed.ThenIremember:Iamathome;Ihavereturnedtotheworldoftheliving.Still,I’mhoveringinastatethatIcan’tdescribe.Tothisday,aftersomanyyears,Ifindithard.It’sthewayyoumightfeelafterhandlingaveryurgentmatterforwhichyouhavetobeintopform,andafterwardyoufallintoavoid.You’reneitherupsetnorhappyaboutwhatyou’veachieved.Yousimplyfeelnothing.

I’minthissortoflimbowhenmyfatherwalksthroughthedoor.He

simplycomesinandasks,“Howareyoudoing?”Isay:“Good.”Andthenwetakeeachotherinourarms.Neitherofuscries.I’mso

happytoseehim.Butit’smoresomethingIknowthansomethingIfeel.There’snospaceinmeforbigemotions.Iamsimplyrelieved.AtthatmomenttherearenowordsforwhatIexperienced.Norarethereanyforwhatisstilltocome.AndtherearedefinitelynowordsforwhatI’mfeeling.Foratthemomentit’sasifI’mcutofffrommyownfeelings.

Myfathersitsdownnexttomeonthebed,andwejustlookateachothersilently.Hewasneveramanofmanywords.AndIpreferitthatway.

LaterIwillworryaboutthisemotionalvoid,willwonderwhethersomethingmightbewrongwithme,whetherImightbecoldhearted.Thisinnerapathywilloccasionallycausemeanxiety.Buttoday,fortyyearslater,IknowthatthiswasaprotectivemechanismIdevelopedatthattime.Duringmytrekthroughthejungle,itwasnecessaryforsurvival;andwhenIwasrescued,Icouldnotjustshutitoff.Mypsychewasonautopilot.InwardlyIwasstillmakingmywaythroughtherainforest.Mymindhadnotyetmadeitbacktocivilization.Perhapsit’sstillnotcompletelybacktoday.

Butmybodygraspsverywellthatit’ssafe,andallofasuddenitletsgo.Fromonehourtothenext,Igetaveryhighfeverthatlastsafewdaysandthenjustassuddenlydisappears.Thedoctorsareataloss.

Ontopofthat,myleftkneeswellsupagreatdeal.Nooneknowswhy.AfewmonthslaterIwillfindoutthatItoremycruciateligamentduringthecrash.“Andyou’retellingmeyouwalkedonthatforelevendaysthroughthejungle?”theorthopedistwillaskmewithconsternation.“Medically,that’sactuallycompletelyimpossible.”

Isn’titincrediblehowmybodywasabletosuppressthenaturalreactiontothisinjuryuntilIwasrescued?Duringmyeleven-dayjourney,Ihadneitherpainnorswelling.IfIhadnotbeenabletomoveawayfromthecrashsite,Icertainlywouldnothavesurvived.

Thereareconstantlypeoplearoundme,andthere’salwayssomethinggoingon.Thelinguists’smallairplanes,whichareparticipatinginthesearchoperation,comeandgooverthesettlement.Whenmyfatherfinallybreaksthesilence,heasksaboutmymother.HowdisappointedheiswhenI’mabletotellhimsolittle!Inatelegramtohissister,hewrites:Unfortunately,wecannotsayanythingaboutMaria.Julianedidnotseeheragainaftertheaccident.Andforme,too,it’sincomprehensiblehowshe,whohadjustbeensittingnexttome,

coulddisappearfromonemomenttothenextsocompletelyfrommylife.OnthatfirstdayaftermyarrivalinYarinacocha,thecomandanteofthe

FAP,ManueldelCarpio,visitsmetoo.Heasksmepolitelyforinformation.ItellhimwhatIknow.Afterward,heasksmetoreportnothingindetailabouttheeventsofthecrashtopresspeopleuntileverythinghasbeenclearedup.Icomplywithhisrequest.Butanofficialstatementonthecauseofthecrashwouldneverbemade.

Onthatday,toquotethelocalnewspaperImpetu,a“deluge”ofjournalistsinundatesPucallpa.Theyplungethesmallcityintochaos,andthey’reallsearchingforme.Luckily,thecomandanteissuesareportthatIaminthefamousHospitalAmazónicoAlbertSchweitzer,withDr.TheodorBinder,whoisaswellknowninPeruaselsewhere.Notonlythejournalists,butalsomanylocalsbesiegethehospital.Everyonewantstoseeme.

Despitetheredherring,ComandantedelCarpioorderspolicetoguardthehousewhereI’mstaying.Thecrashareaisclosedofftooandisonlyaccessibletopoliceandmilitarypersonnel.Nonetheless,onceagainagroupoftenciviliansandfamilymemberssetsoff,extremelymotivatedbymyfortunaterescueandthelocatingofthecrashsite.AmongthemisMarcioRivera,whoservesasaguidewithhisgoodknowledgeofthearea.

Onthatsameday,thepilotClydePeters,themissionarywhogavemyfathersomuchhopeonNewYear’sEve,1971,parachutestothecrashsite.Hisplanistocutaclearinginthejunglesothathelicopterscanlandtheresafely.Thatwouldfacilitatetherescueworkimmensely.AtthesametimeanofficialdelegationofthreemembersoftheGuardiaCivilandsixmilitarypersonnel,amongthemaradiooperatorandtwomedics,setoffonfootfromRíoSúngaro,nearPuertoInca,morethantwelvemilesawayfromthewreckage.Meanwhile,ClydePeters’sheroicattemptfails.Notonlydoeshelosehisequipment—mostimportant,thepowersawboundtohisleg—buthealsoinjureshimselflanding.Cutofffromthehelicoptercrewwithoutradiocontact,hefollowstheflightnoise,becausehethinksitwillleadhimtothecrashsite.Butthisisnotthecase,andinsteadofarescuer,hebecomesamissingpersonhimself.ItwillbethreedaysbeforeClydePetersresurfaces.

Themilitarydelegationdoesn’thavemuchluckeither.Ittakesthemtwodaystocoverthetwelvemiles.Itturnsouttobeintenselyarduoustocutone’swaythroughthispartoftherainforest,fortheterrainisextremelyhillyandtheconstantrainhasmadeitcompletelymuddy.Whentheleaderfallsandinjureshimselfaswell,progressbecomesstillmoredifficult.

Thenextafternoon,January6,someciviliansfollowClydePeters’sexample.Butinsteadofparachuting,theyarelowereddownfromhelicoptersonropes,equippedwithpowersaws,overthecrashsite.Themilitarydelegationandthecivilpatrolarrivethereonthesameeveninganddecidetoworktogether.Thusitisnowatotaloftwentymen,amongthemtwonewspapereditors,whoapproachthecrashsite.

Meanwhile,myusuallycomposedfatherloseshistemper:Hestartsahugequarrelwiththecomandanteandaccuseshimofnotdoingenoughfortherescueofpossiblesurvivors.Inmyfather’sopinion,therescueteams’progressistooslow.Alotofenergyandprecioustimearebeinglostbyinfightingoverjurisdiction.Inalettertohissisterandhismother,whichIfoundonlyrecentlyinmyaunt’sposthumouspapers,hewritestwodayslater:

Unfortunately,noteverythingthatcanbedoneisbeingdonebythePeruviansidehere.IfJulianehadnotcomeandsaidwheretolookfortheairplane,theyprobablywouldhaveabandonedeverythingalready.ThedaybeforeyesterdayIhadaveryintenseconfrontationwiththehighestauthorityinthesearchoperation,ComandantedelCarpio.ThespecialNorthAmericanairplanehasbeenrequestedmuchtoolate:thelinguistsandAdventists(noneofthemPeruvians),whoareexperiencedinthejungle,havenotbeensufficientlybroughtintotheeffortorpermittedtohelp.Theycouldhavelongsincerequestedabout30–50jungleIndiansfromamongthelinguists,etc.The“señorcomandante”declaredthathewascancelingthepoliceprotectionformydaughter.Thepoliceguardingusarenolongerstandingoutsidethehouse.

MyfatherisnottheonlyonetocriticizedelCarpio.Thecomandanteisalsoattackedsharplybythepressandotherfamilymembers,butIdon’thearaboutanyofthis.Inoticeonlythatthere’snowmuchmoregoingonaroundthehouseandthatourhosts,sincethepoliceprotectionwascanceled,havetheirhandsfulltryingtoshieldme.Fromthatpointon,awholehordeofjournalistsbesiegesthelinguists’settlement.

MyfathertellsmethathehasdecidedtomakeanexclusivedealwithSternmagazine.“They’reserious,”hesays,“andthenwe’llhaveourpeacefromtheothers.”

Twomenwillcomeandinterviewme.DoIfeelstrongenoughforthatyet?

Inod.Iagreewitheverythingmyfatherdecides.Hemustknowwhathe’sdoing,andIjustacceptallthis.

Andsothenextday,January7,1972,becomesvisitingday:NotonlyGerdHeidemannandHeroBuss,ofStern,arriveandintroducethemselvestome,butalsotheBritishjournalistNicholasAsheshov,whoaccompaniedmyfatheronanexpeditionyearsagoandfoundfavorwithhim.HeisareporterforthePeruvianTimesandalsothePeruviannewspaperLaPrensa.FromthatpointonIwillhavedailyconversationswiththeSternjournalists.

Inhislettertohissister,myfatherwritesonJanuary8:Alltherest(hemeansjournalists)I“chasedaway”….ImadeanappointmentwiththetwofromSternforthismorning:Julianewilldescribeindetailtothemeverythingsheknows.

MyfatherisalwaysthereduringtheconversationswithGerdHeidemannandHeroBuss,andI’mgladaboutthat.Everydaytheyknockonmydoorandstayoneoratmosttwohours.Atfirstabriefpreliminaryreportappears,thenfourdetailedaccountswithlargephotospreads.NowonderIdon’treallygetachancetorest.EspeciallysinceIreceiveothervisitorsfromLima.

Mygodfather’sdaughterarrives,aswellasmyformerEnglishteacher,whoimmediatelywantstopraywithme.Butthat’stoomuchforme.Thoughreligious,Iprefertoprayalone,andItellherthat.Inaddition,oldfriendsofmyparentscome.TheyareHanneloreandHeinrichMaulhardt,whoownthelovelybungalowhotelLaCabaña,ontheYarinacochaLagoon,andputupmyfather.ThedirectorofthenaturalhistorymuseuminLimavisitstoo,aswellasadoctorfriend,anurseandmanyothers.Manyofmyfriendswritetomeandsendmesweets.

Meanwhile,thevarious,nowrelativelysmoothlycooperatingsearchpartiesmadeupofciviliansandmilitarypersonnelcontinuetofighttheirwaythroughthejungle.OnthemorningofJanuary7,theyalreadyreachthefirstairplanewreckage.Ittakessixhoursbefore—mainlyduetothetirelesseffortofthefamilymembers—alandingsitehasbeencleared.ThefirstFAPhelicopterlandsaroundfiveo’clockintheevening.Withinadistanceofjustafewhundredyards,theyfindtheLANSA’sgalley,theintacttailoftheplaneandthecompletelydestroyedluggagecompartment,thecontentsofwhichhavebeenscatteredfarovertheground.

ThatdayaseaplanealsolandsinPuertoIncatothegreatjubilationofthelocalchildren.Herethebaseisestablishedforthewholeoperation,andthesmalljunglesettlementexperiencesaboomsuchasithasseenonlyoncebefore.Thattime,too,aplanehadcrashed,thoughnotoverthelowlandrainforestbutintheSiraMountains,whereitwasneverfound.Nowthere’saflurryofactivityinthesmallcity.Thefewhotels,whichraisetheirpricesonthespot,areimmediatelybookedup.Therestaurantsaresimplyoverrun,andsoonitbecomesapparentthatthere’snotenoughfood—thepeopleofPuertoIncaarenotpreparedforthefeedingofsuchmasses.TherearenomorehotelroomsavailableinPucallpaeither.AndtheflightsoutofLimaarebookedupfordays.

Thenextday,January8,morepiecesofwreckagearefoundatthecrashsite,aswellasthefirsttwentycorpses.Therearereportsofgruesomefindsandawfulimagesthatcanneverbeforgotten.Mostofthecorpsesaredismemberedorhorriblydisfigured.InthepresstherearecomparisonstoDante’sInferno.Accordingtopressreports,thecoronerflowninatthebehestoftheauthoritiesbecomes“ill”whenheseesthesceneoftheaccidentandtheremainsofthecorpsesandfinisheshisworkasquicklyaspossible.Apparently,overadiameterofaroundtwoandahalfmiles,therearegifts,piecesofluggageortheircontents,clothes,shoes,Christmasstollensintheirpackaging,butalsopartsofcorpseshanginginthejungletreesallaround.Overeverythinghoversaterriblesmellofdecomposition.Inthebranchessitvultures,whichhaveclearlybeendisturbedbythesearchteam.

Thenewhastilyflown-incoronerinspectsthecrashsiteforfifteenminutes;thenheorderstherecoveryofthecorpsesanddepartsagain.Nowonderthetruecauseofthecrashwasneverdetermined.

Thefirstdeadtobeidentifiedarethepilotandafourteen-year-oldgirl.Thepilot,CarlosForno,hastobesawedoutofhiscockpit,andisrecognizableonlybyhisseatintheplane,hisuniformandpapers.Intheyounggirl’scase,itisthesadremainsofElisabethRibeiro,whoisabletobeidentifiedbyherownfatheronthebasisofherjewelry,whichhehimselfgavetoherasagift.Heinsistsoncarryingbyhimselfwhatisleftofhisdaughterinoneoftheblackplasticbagsthathavebeenprovided.HebringsherremainsintothehelicopterthatwilltakethecorpsestoPuertoInca.FromtheretheyareflowntoPucallpatothemorguethatisspecificallyestablishedforthemontheCarreteraCentral.Therethedeadarelaidoutinanemptyfactorybuildingforidentification.Here,too,thesmellofdecompositionsoonattractsthevultures.

Againandagainthere’spouringrain.Thecivilians,musteringalltheirstrengthfortherecoverywork,complainthattheauthoritiesarenotproviding

themwiththerightresources.Thedistributedglovesandblackplasticbagscouldnotbelesssuitableforthetaskandmakemoredifficulttheoften-arduousrecoveryofcorpsesthathavefallenintoravinesorarelyingonsteepslopes.Andsothealreadyextremelyproblematicworkbecomesagonizing.Andme?I’mshieldedfromallthis.Iwantmostofalltohavemypeace.ButtherearetheconversationswiththejournalistsfromStern,whocomedaily,andmyvisitors,whothinktheyhavetocheermeup.MyfathergoestoPucallpadaily.AsIlearnlater,heiswaitingdayafterdayatthetemporarymorgue.Heiswaitingformymother.Butnoneofthefoundcorpsesareidentifiableashers.

Whenhe’snotinPucallpa,hesitssilentlymostofthetimeinacornerofmyroom.Once,afterthechildrenfromthemissionstation,whounfailinglyvisitmeeveryday,haveleft,Ilookathimsittingthere,completelyabsorbedinhimself.

“What’sthematter?”Iaskhim.Thenhelooksupasifreturningfromanotherworld.“Oh,nothing,”heanswers,forcinghimselftosmile,whichdoesn’t

reallysucceed.“Iwasjustgrievingalittlebitforyourmother.”

Ourpost-crashmeeting:myfathervisitingmysickbed.(Copyright©1972Sternmagazine)

Reflection:lookingbehindthemirror,Ithinkbackonmyyouth.(Copyright©1972Sternmagazine)

12GreetingsFromThisWorldandtheNext

Letterscongratulatingmeonmysurvivalarrivedfromallovertheworld.(PhotoscourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

Overthedays,weeksandevenmonthsthatfollow,mailisbroughttome,mountainsofletters.Eachdaytherearemore.Theycomefromallovertheworld,andI’moverwhelmedandmoved,aswellasoccasionallyputoff,bythelinesthatcompletestrangersfeelcompelledtowritetome.MostarefromtheUnitedStates,Canada,Australia,Germany,France,England,Poland,Italy,Sweden,Argentinaand,ofcourse,Peru.ButalsopeoplefromBurundi,NewZealand,FrenchGuiana,Uruguay,CubaandCostaRicahavesomethingtosaytome.Theaddressesontheenvelopesareoftencurious.Sometimestheyconsistofonlythewords“JulianeKoepcke—Peru,”buttheyalwaysarrive.Theagesoftheletterwritersrangefromninetoeightyyearsold.Amongthemaremanychildren,youngpeopleandmothers,whousuallyfeelsympathywithmyfateandapparentlysimplyhavetheneedtowriteandtellmethatI’mnotalone.Forinstance,thereisanicewomanfromAustraliawhowrites:I’mnoonespecial,justamotherofafamily….Allovertheworldmanypeoplethinkofmeduringthosedaysandwishmethebest.

ManywanttoletmeknowhowmuchtheyadmirehowIfoundmywaythroughthejungleandthinkI’menormously“brave,”“coolheaded”and“fearless.”I’mhappyaboutthat;butactually,Ithink,Isimplyhadnochoice.

Thentherearepeoplewhowereacquaintedwithmyparentseithercloselyormoredistantly,hadstudiedwiththesameprofessorinKielorhadtouredthePeruvianjungleinearlieryears.SomeGermanexilesinLatinAmericancountrieswritehowproudtheyarethat“agirlfromtheoldcountry”couldachievesuchafeat.AnAmericanairplanepilotbelievesthat“his”stewardessescouldlearnalotfromme—I’mnotentirelysurewhathemeansbythat.BobfromColoradousedtostudyaviationtechnologyandwouldliketoknowwhetherIfelltoearthtogetherwithapieceofwreckageoronmyown.HeevenwritesafunnysentenceinflawedGerman.

Doctorsorotherswhopossessspecialexpertisecommentonmyinjuriesandgivegoodadvice,asinthecaseofaBelgianwhowarnsoflungdamage—causedbythecollarbonefracture—oraMunichentomologistwhowritestomethatitcouldnothavebeenthecasethattherewereworms(Würmer)inmywounds.He’sright:It’sthefaultofGermannewspaperarticleswithincorrecttranslationsoftheEnglish“worms”andSpanish“gusanos”asWürmer,“worms”inthestrictsense,insteadofFliegenmaden,“maggots”inthesenseofflylarvae.Someboysmyageandyoungeraskforzoologicaldetails.Afew,likePeterfromAustralia,whowouldliketolearnmoreaboutthestingrays,areinterestedspecificallyinfish;others,likeBrianfromCanadaorHerbertfromsouthernGermany,whowanttoknowwhetherit’struethatthejaguarinPeru

hasgoneextinct,havegeneralquestionsaboutthewildlifeoftheAmazonRainForest.

Butoccasionallylettersalsooffermeaglimpseintoastranger’sfate:AwomanfromSanAntonio,Texas,hadlostherthen-seventeen-year-olddaughterthreeyearsearlier,who—sosheclaimed—notonlyhadastrongresemblancetome,butalsolovedanimalsandwantedtobecomeaveterinarian.Shediedinadivingaccident.NowthewomanisinvitingmetolivewithherandherotherdaughterandstudyataTexanuniversity.PerhapsshethinksshecanreplacemymotherandIherlostdaughter?

Ialsocan’truleoutthepossibilitythatoneoranotheryoungmanhasfalleninlovewithmefromafar.Usually,theywritemecharminglettersassuringmethattheywillalwaysbethereformeifIshouldneedthem.Oneofthemevencomposesareligiouslythemedpoem.AnothersendsmehismessageinminutehandwritingonapostcardinItalian,FrenchandevenLatin.Unfortunately,therearealsosomewhobecomepushy.WhenIdon’treplytooneofthem,heultimatelyappealsindignantlytomyfather!

AnAmericanartistexpressesthedesiretomakeabronzesculptureofme—ifwecouldmeetsomeday.Andasixteen-year-oldgirlfromMunichwouldliketowriteashortstoryaboutmyaccidentandasksmefordetails.

AzealoussupporteroftheinternationalartificiallanguageEsperantowritesmeabilingualletterinEnglishandEsperanto,whichbeginsasfollows:

Nowthatyouhavebecomeaworldfamousperson,probablyyouwillfind[it]usefultolearntheinternationallanguage,Esperanto.Theworldfamous“FootballKing,”PeléofBrazil,wroteanautobiography“IamPelé”andpublisheditinEsperanto,anditmakeshistorybecauseEsperantistfootballersoverthewholeworldcanreadit,whatevertheirnationallanguagesare.PleaselearnEsperantoandwriteabookaboutyourlifeandadventuressothatEsperantistsmaleandfemalearoundthewholeworldcanreadit….

ConvenientlyhehasalsoenclosedasmallhandbookwiththegrammarrulesandavocabularybookforlearningEsperanto.

IalsofindfunnyapostcardfromHildesheim,Germany,onwhichthefollowingpoemiswritten:

Anangelcamefromheaven,ateapieceofcake,thenwentwandering,andallwaswellagain.

Oh,ifonlythingswerethatsimple!Ialsofindpleasureinthelettersfromschoolclassesthathavemany

questions,andnowandthentheyenclosepicturesthey’vedrawnofmeinthemiddleofthejunglenexttotheairplanewreckage.

Thentherearelettersthatmakeastrangeimpressiononme,whichIoccasionallyevenfindabhorrent.Fortherearepeoplewhohavesupposedlymanagedtodowhathasremaineddeniedtous—thatis,tomakecontactwithmymotherintheafterlife.Evenbeforeherdeathwasofficiallyconfirmed,suchpeoplesentalongher“warmgreetings.”ApsychicfromFreiburg,Germany,isfirmlyconvincedthathersoulwaswithmeatthemomentofthecrashandIwasabletosurviveonlybecause—unbeknownsttome—sheshowedmetheway.Meanwhile,shedescribesthecircumstancesastheyareportrayedintheerror-riddennewspaperreports:Iclimbedoutofthewreckage;thereweremanycorpsesaroundme;atheradviceIpickedupacakeandtookitwithme,wouldalmosthavefallenintothehandsofcannibalsifherinvisiblesoulhadnotluredmeontoasaferpath.Inherlastvisionshesawmesittinginaclearing,encircledwithlight,eatingthelastcakecrust.Icanstilltakeallthatwithasenseofhumor.However,whenshethenpassesonmessagesfrommydeadmotheraswell,itbecomestoomuchforme.

It’sneithertheonlynorthelastoddletterIwillreceive.Someeventrytohitchtheirwagonstome.SeveralmonthslaterabiorhythmistfromSwitzerlandisconvincedthatduringthisalmostsuperhumanexertion,Iwasinanoptimalbiorhythmicstate.Shegoeson:Forevenifsuchperseveranceislargelyamatterofcharacter,itwouldnothelpmuchifonewereinaweakrhythmicstate.That’swhyshewritesthatsheisconvincedthatyourjungleodysseyconstitutesaperfecttestcaseforthedoctrineofbiorhythmics.

Toverifythis,sheasksmetoindicatemybirthdate,ifpossiblealsothetimeofday.Thisisveryimportanttothewoman:Forifmysuspicionregardingyourexperienceiscorrect,thenthiswouldbesuchapersuasivetestcasethateventhemostmaliciousdoubterandopponentofbiorhythmicswouldhavetoadmitdefeat.

AnextremelyexcitedwomanfromNewJerseywillwritemea

discomfitinglettertwoyearslater.Itbeginslikethis:Juliane:Ihavefoundnewpatternsinaircrashes—planetarypositions.Startingwithmycase,shecalculatedthehoroscopesforthosedaysonwhichairplaneaccidentstookplaceandstumbledonashockingtheory.Apparently,quiteparticularconfigurationsofplanetsmadethemetalbirdsfellfromthesky.MostofmyfriendsthinkI’mgoingmad,shewrites,butI’vebecomeobsessedwithresearch.Inherview,aplanecrashiscausedbyasquarebetweenthesunandPluto.ButonChristmasin1971,Venus,PlutoandSaturnformedatriangletospareme.Apparently,somethingsimilarrepeateditselfayearlater,andagainaplanecrashed,thistimeaFrenchoneovertheCaribbean.WhatamItomakeofthis?Iunderstandnothingaboutastrologyandcanunfortunatelycontributenothingtothisdiscussion.

Stillodderisaletterthatalsoreachesmetwoyearsaftermyaccident.Thisonereads:Ihavefoundtherightcirclerelationnumber…andwithitwouldliketostartaworldwideintellectualrevolutioninthefieldofmathematicswiththehelpofyourhigh-schoolgraduate(thisreferstome).Thecomplicated,supposedlygroundbreakingnewformulasfora“Pitelyear”IcannotunderstandevenaftermyAbitur—onwhichIscoredratherwell—andtheintellectualrevolutionwillapparentlyhavetowait.

ButI’mgettingaheadofmyself.

I’mstilllyinginmybedinthemissionstationofYarinacochaasaguestofthehospitable“linguists.”EachdayIreceiveanewbasketfullofletters,readthemallandaskmyselftheanxiousquestion:HowintheworldamIgoingtoanswerallthesepeople?Therearesomanythatit’ssimplyimpossible.Ichoosethelettersthatespeciallyappealtome.Someeventurnintofriendlycorrespondences,ashappenswithastudentfromSwedenandawomanfromPoland.

Butsomelettersdonotrequireanypostagestampsanddonothavetotraverseanygreatdistancetoreachme,fortheycomefromnextdoor.Thecommunityofmissionaries,whosokindlytookmeinandcaredforme,haslostmemberstoo.Iamallthemoregratefultobeabletorecoverwiththem.DeepinmyheartIfeelguiltyforhavingsurvived,whilealltheothershadtodie.“Why,”myfatherasksmeatanespeciallyhardmoment,“didthetwoofyouhavetotakethatLANSAflight?”

…EventhoughI’dexplicitlywarnedyounotto.Thoughhedoesn’tsaythesecondpartoutloud,Iknowthathe’sthinkingit.Ialsoknowthatit’smyfaultthatwedidn’ttaketheflightwiththesafeairlineFaucett,asmymother

wouldhavelikedto,justbecauseIwassochildishandinsistedonparticipatingintheschoolgraduationcelebration.Ifeelguiltyandfullofboundlessregret.I’msorrythatIdidn’tskiptheschoolevent.I’msorrythatIsurvivedandshedidn’t.I’msorrythatsomanyfamiliesareinmourning,andonlyIamsittinghereinmybedandalreadydoingsowellagain.

Idon’tfindwordsforallthis,amnotevenawareofit.Thefactthateverysurvivorofadisastergoesthroughthis,Ilearnonlymuchlater.

13TerribleCertainty,AgonizingUncertainty

Atowninuproar:thousandswaitedatthePucallpaairportfornewsaboutthevanishedLANSAaircraft.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

Asthefeverwithshiversweakensmeandthetwenty-inchstripofgauzeisstuffed,dayafterday,intomyarmwound,I,wrappedinmycocoon,canstillscarcelygraspwhathashappened.Iexperiencemyfirstnightmaresinmysleepandamnotyetabletomakesenseofthem.Myfathersitsinmyroom,andnowandthenleavesquietlyandcomesback;andduringallthosedays,moreandmorecorpsesarerecovered.EverydayItalktothejournalistsfromStern;andtheirPeruviancolleaguesareterriblyupsetwhenthefirstpicturesofmeappearintheforeignmagazinesLife,ParisMatchandStern.Meanwhile,ComandantedelCarpio,apparentlytoprotectme,forbidsthelocalpressanycontactwithme.OnJanuary9,adelegationfromthecompanyLockheedarrives.Theparticipantsvisitthecrashsite,buttheywillprovidenonewdetailsaboutthereasonsfortheaccident.

OnJanuary11,ImovefromtheLindholmfamily’stotheHolstons’house.Thenextdayafuneralserviceisheldforthethirteen-year-oldNathanLyonandeighteen-year-oldDaveEricson.WhatIdon’tknow,andwillfindoutonlyyearslater:TheyarethetwoboyswhowerewaitinginlineinfrontofusonthatmorningofDecember24,1971,whennoneofussuspectedwhatwouldhappenafewhourslater.Thatdaytherecoveryofcorpsesisofficiallyended.

Thatsameday,January12,myfathergoestoPucallpa.Whenhereturnsintheafternoon,heisseriousandverypale,butcomposed.

Hesayshehasidentifiedmymother.Hetellsmeverycalmlythathehadascufflewithajournalistwhotriedtoholdhiscameraintothezinccoffinandphotographmymother’sremains.Heevenknockedthecameraoutofthisfellow’shand.I’mhorrified.Ordinarily,myfatherwouldneverdosomethinglikethat.

Hegoesontosaythathe’snot100percentsurethatthefemalecorpseismymother.Apartfromthelowerjaw,theheadwasmissing.However,hetookacloserlookatthecorpse’sfoot.Mymotherhadverydistinctivefeet.Hersecondtoesonbothfeetweremuchlongerthanthebigtoes,andthelittletoeswereverybent—myfatheroftenusedtoteasemymotheraboutthat.Andthatwasthecasewiththiscorpsetoo.MyfatherasksmewhetherIcanrememberwhatshoesmymotherwaswearingonthedayoftheaccident.WhenIdescribeherflatleathershoeswiththesaddle-stitchseam,whichshehadbroughtbackafewyearsagofromaEuropetrip,myfathernodsimperceptiblyandlooksdownatthefloor.Therewasashoelikethatwiththecorpse.

Somymotherisreallydead.Atthatmoment,whenitbecomesacertainty,Ifeelnothingatall.AndI’msurprisedatmyself.Buthadn’tIactuallyknownitforalongtime?Hadtherereallystillbeenreasontohopenineteen

daysafterthecrash?Myemotionalvoiddisconcertsme.Shouldn’tIbreakdowncryingnow?NeithermyfathernorIdothat.He,too,iscompletelyunemotional,andtodayIknowthatwasourwayofprotectingourselvesatthattime:EverythingdripsoffmeasifIweremadeofglass.Andhespeaksaboutitasifitwereoneofhisscientificcases.Whichdoesn’tmeanthatallthisdoesn’tmattertohim.Itactuallymatterstohimimmensely,occupiesallhisthoughtsandfeelings.

Myfathercanbestshowhisfeelingsthroughangryoutbursts,andthat’swhathedoesnowtoo,towardthejournalistswhobotherhimduringwhatare,withcertainty,theworstmomentsofhislife,ashestandsbeforetheremainsofthepersonhelovedmostintheworld.Orhedirectshisragetowardtheauthoritieswhoworkwithappallingsloppinessandtrampleonhisfeelings.Hewillexpendagreatdealofenergytoachievecompletecertaintyaboutwhetherthatcorpseshowntohiminthezinccoffinno.22wasreallyMariaKoepcke,bornvonMikulicz-Radecki.

Duringthosedayshetellsmethathe’snotentirelysure,thathe’splaguedbydoubts.Healsotellsmethatthestateofthecorpseraisesbigquestions.Whywastheupperpartoftheheadmissing,ifthecorpseotherwiseappearedfullyintact?Andmostdisturbingofall:Whywasthecorpseinsuchafreshstate?I,too,knowverywellthatacorpseinthejunglecanremainintactatmostforafewdays.Irememberalltoowellthepresenceofthekingvultures,whichIfoundnearthethreecorpsesfourdaysafterthecrash.Ants,bugs,flies,turtlesandvultures,specializedinfeedingoncarrion,promptlyfindanycadaver,howeverwellconcealeditmaybe.

Sowhywasmymother’sbodystillsowellpreserved?There’sonlyoneanswer,andit’shorrible:Shemusthavestillbeenaliveforalongtime.Infact,shecannothavediedmorethanafewdaysago.Ifthat’sreallytrue,whatmustshehavesufferedinthetwoweeksbefore?Mymindtakesinthisinformation,butmyprotectivemechanismdoesn’tletitgetclosetome.PerhapsIappearcompletelycoldheartedtomyfather?Hermotherliesfortwoweekshelplessinthejungleandforsomereasoncannotmove—perhapsherpelvisisbrokenorherspine—andthisgirl,herdaughter,doesn’tsayaword.Sheleansbackinbedandsimplyfallsasleepagain.WakesupandaskswhenthemenfromSternarecomingtoday.Eatsdinnerasifnothinghappened.

Butmaybeheunderstandswhat’sgoingonwithme.Orhe’stoopreoccupiedwithhimselftoworryaboutmeatall.Maybehe’sgoingthroughtheexactsamething,forhe’sspeakingasifsomeoneelsewasinthemorgueandhadafightwithjournaliststhere.Whathe’sreallythinkingandfeelingatthat

time—tothisday,Idon’tknow.Lateron,weneveragainspokeaboutthosedays.

Abrieflettertohissister,whichhewroteadayaftertheidentification,perhapsbestconveysmyfather’sdistraughtstate:

YesterdayIlookedatMaria’scorpse.Thecoffinwasalreadysolderedup;everythingwasdifficult.Ihadtohaveanactualscufflewiththejournalists.IwasshownMaria’sweddingring.Whetheritwasfoundonthehandnooneknew.Thedefiniteidentificationissupposedtohavebeenmadethroughthedentalbridge,buttheupperpartoftheskullwasmissing.Incidentally,thecorpsewasastonishinglyfresh,thatis,onlydestroyedalittlebitbyvulturesandinsects.Accordingtoourexperienceswithmammaliancorpseslaidoutintheforest,afteraboutfiveorsixdaysonlybonesandpiecesofskinshouldbeleft.Onefootwasstillrelativelyrecognizable.ItcouldbeMaria’sfoot(whichdoeshaveaverydistinctivetoeshape),butI’mnotentirelysure.Iwouldliketoaskyoutohavethecorpsesexaminedandassessedthere.It’snotimpossiblethatMariawasstillalivefordaysandthatthemissingpartsoftheskullwereremovedlater.ItwouldprobablybebestforyoutogetintouchwithJohann-Georg(mymother’sbrother,whowashimselfadoctor).Therestofthefamilydoesn’tneedtoknowanyofthisforthetimebeing.BeforeJanuary7,nocorpsewasfound.Manyofthecorpsesareunidentifiable.Skullsmightbeneededtoreachthequantityof91.

ThoughtslikethesearetormentinghimasI,too,writetomyauntandgrandmotheratthesametime.Thecontrastbetweenourletterscouldn’tbegreater:

SinceDaddyiswritingyoualetterrightnow,Iwantedtosendyouafewlinestoo.Pleaseexcusethepoorandunevenhandwriting!It’sbecauseI’mwritinginbed.I’vealsobrokenmyrightcollarbone,soIhavetobecareful.

I’malreadydoingmuchbetter.Mywoundsarehealingwell,andIcanmovereallywell.Allthepeopleherearefriendlytomeandbringmebooksandchocolate

(unfortunatelymuchtoomuch).Thefoodisalwaysverygood.Atthemoment,I’mlivinginthehouseofmydoctor,anAmerican.Ilikeithere.

NowIwouldliketoendmyletter,becauseIhaveanothertowrite.

ConsideringthatI’mseventeenyearsoldandrathereloquent,mydazedstateinlightoftheterribleeventsallaroundme,inwhichIfeellikeI’mcutofffrommyself,canbereadfromtheselines.Clearly,IamextremelyeagertoassureeveryonehowwellI’mdoing.InGerman,thelittleword“gut,”meaning“good”or“well,”appearsfourtimesinthisshortletter!Andthisisadayaftermymother’scorpsewasfound.

TodayitseemstomeasifIhadtotellmyselfagainandagain:You’redoingwell,Juliane,youdidit!You’redoingsowell.AsifatleastIdidn’twanttoworrythepeoplearoundme,whowereconsumedbygriefandsorrow.

Onlysincemyaunt’sdeathinthesummerof2010doIknowthatmyfatherdidn’tgiveuphisinquiriesintothecorpse’sidentityandcauseofdeath.Hewantedtohavecertainty.ButitwasasifthechaoticandcorruptcircumstancesinPucallpaandtheconfusingresultsinGermany,wherethecorpsewastransferred,wantedtoconfoundhimmorethanever.Duetothedifficultcircumstancesoftherecovery,noonehadtakenphotosoftheplacewherethecorpsewasfoundortheoriginalpositionofthebody.Thesurroundingareawasnotinvestigated.Nooneevenknewwithcertaintywheretheshoewasfound.

WhatistakenforgrantedforanyaccidentinGermanywascompletelyneglectedinthosedaysinthePeruvianjungle—perhapsbecauseoftheextremeconditionsduringtherecovery.Eventuallythecorpseswereapparentlyjustpackedinbagsandtakenaway.

Thedaymyfatherstoodbeforethecorpsethathethoughtwashiswife,andyetwasn’tcertain,aweddingringwasshowntohim.Hecouldidentifythatdefinitively,forthedateofhisengagementwithMariaandhisfirstnamewereengravedonitsinside.Itwasclearlymymother’sweddingring.Whenmyfatheraskedwhetheritwasfoundonthecorpse’shand,noonecouldconfirmthatforhim.Whenhewantedtokeepit,theyrefusedhimtheringwiththeargumentthatthejudgehadtoseeitfirst.Myfatherneversawtheringagain.Whenheinquiredwiththejudge,themilitaryandtheresponsiblehospital,noonewouldadmittohearinganythingaboutthering.

Thecoffinwasclosedandsolderedupagain,whilemyfatherwasstill

there.Onthatsameday,January12,itwentontoLima.HereDr.LuisFelipeRoveredoembalmsthecorpseonJanuary13,sothatitwillmakeitthroughtheflighttoGermany.Frommygodfather’sgarden,asmallbouquetisattachedtothecoffin.Itcomesfromthesamebushfromwhichawreathwaswovenformymotheronthedayofherwedding.OnJanuary14,atsixo’clockintheevening,inahangarattheJorgeChávezInternationalAirportinLima/Callao,afuneralserviceisheld.Friendstelluslaterthattheceremonywasreallymovingandwasgivenanespeciallydramaticeffectbythetakingoffandlandingofairplanes.Manyfriendsandcolleaguespaytheirlastrespectstomymother.ThenextmorninghercoffinistransportedonaLufthansaplanetoFrankfurt,andonanothertoMunich.OnJanuary21,whatarethoughttobemymother’sremainsareburiedinAufkirchenonLakeStarnberg,whereherfatherwasburiedtoo.MyfatherandIdidnotattendeitherceremonyduetomycondition—thoughIsuspectthathisreasonforstayingwithmewasnotonlythathedidnotwanttoleavemealonebutalsothathecouldnothaveenduredthegrief.

WhywastheburialinGermany?WhynotinPeru?Icanonlysurmisetheanswer,formyfatherdidn’tspeaktomeabouthisreasons.IknewthatmyparentswereplanningtoreturntoGermanyinafewyears.HowmuchmyfatherwaspreoccupiedinthosedaysandweekswithhisowndeathisevidenttomefromanotherlettertomyauntCordula,inwhichheexplainsindetailhowhewouldlikethegravetobedesigned,whichalsoalreadyprovidesaplaceforhimself.Myauntclearlyfounditadvisabletowriteinherreply:PleasealsoconsiderinallyourdecisionsthatyouhavetobethereforJuliane.Havingalreadylosthermother,sheneedsherfathertwiceasmuch.

Alotisgoingthroughmyfather’sheadthosedays,andthey’renotprettythoughts.Atonepointhesaystomethathedoesn’tconsideritoutofthequestionthatmymothermightstillhavebeenaliveevenwhenshewasfound.“Butthenwhyisshedead?”Iaskwithconsternation.

Forawhilehedoesn’tspeak.Thenhesays:“Perhapsshewaskilled?”Theansweristerribleandinconceivabletome.Whywouldsomeone

havedonethat?Asamatteroffact,myfathercannotgetthethoughtoutofhishead.He

wantstoknowwhetherthecorpseishiswifeornot.Healsowantstoknowwhenandhowmymotherdied.HeaskshissisterCordulatoarrangeanautopsyinMunich,whichshedoes.Buttheresultsarelongincoming.

InFebruary,fourweeksaftertheburial,GerdHeidemann,ofStern,willattendtothisatmyfather’srequest.Heidemannevenengagesthedistrictattorney’soffice.Theoutcomewillbemorethanshatteringformyfather:the

postmortemexaminationnotonlyneglectedtoresolveclearlywhethertheremainsareidentifiableasMariaKoepcke,buttohishorrorhefindsoutthatinsteadofanembalmedandstillwell-preservedbody,onlyseveralbonesarrivedinMunich.

Howcanthatbe?Asatisfyinganswerwasneverfound.Wasthecoffininadvertentlyswitched?ButthenwhywasMariaKoepcke’slowerjaw,theonlypartofthecorpsethatcouldbeclearlyidentifiedbasedonherdentist’scastsofthejaw,inthecoffin?Bothdoctors—theoneinLimawhoperformedtheembalming,andtheoneinMunichwhoconductedtheautopsy,orwassupposedtoconductit—indicatethatit’simpossibleforthecorpsetohavedecomposedsocompletelywithinthosefewdays.Didsomeonewanttocoversomethingup?Myfatherisinclinedtosuspectthat.Butthen,whatwouldtherebetocoverup?It’samysterythatwillneverbesolved.

Intheweeksthatfollow,myfatherdoeseverythinghecantoarrangeanexhumation.HesendsaswornstatementtoHamburg,inwhichhedescribesmeticulouslywhathesawonJanuary12,1972,inPucallpaandcompareshisobservationswithhisexperienceswithvertebrateslaidoutinthejungle.HealsoenclosesanotarizedstatementfromthedoctorinLima,whowasthelasttoseethecorpsebeforeitstransfer.MyaunttranslatesitintoGerman.ButasidefromanoticeinSternonFebruary23,1972,themattercomestonothing.Thereportreads:

WRONGCORPSE

TheplanecrashinPeru,whichonlytheseventeen-year-oldJulianeKoepckesurvivedafteraneleven-daymarchthroughthejungle,hasfoundamysteriousepilogue.FifteendaysafterthecrashJuliane’sfathersawhiswife’scorpse“astonishinglyintact,”hadpreservativespouredintothecoffinandthecorpsesenttoMunichforexamination.Butonlypartsoftheskeletonarrivedthere,fromwhichitcannotevenbeascertainedwhethertheybelongtoamanorwoman.Amongthem,however,wasthelowerjawofFrauDr.Koepcke.Nowitcannolongerbedeterminedwhethertheornithologisthadsurvivedtheplanecrashanddiedonlylater.

MyfathersparedmeallthesenastydetailsinthetimeaftermyrecoveryinYarinacochaandintheweeksthatfollowed.Buthowharditmusthavebeenfor

himnotonlytoacceptthelossoftheonlypersontowhomhehadeveropenedup,butalsotobecheatedofhercorpse,nevertoknowhowhisbelovedwifehaddiedandwherehermortalremainsmighthavebeenintheend.

EventhoughIknewofmyfather’sgrimsuspicions,ImyselfdidnotdoubtuntilrecentlythatmymotherliesburiedinAufkirchenonLakeStarnberg.Itwassimplerformethatway.Iknewinstinctivelyhowimportantitwastorecovermyinnerbalance.Sincetherewasnothingmoremyfathercoulddo,heletthematterrest.OrsoIthought—until,aftermyaunt’sdeath,Ifoundalltheseshockingdocuments.

IalsoheardnothingbackthenaboutthefactthatonJanuary24,1972,afuneralservicewasheldinPucallpaforthefifty-fourdeadwhocamefromthecity,andthecorpseswereinterredinthemausoleuminscribedasAlasdeEsperanza.OnlyrecentlydidIfindthespecialsupplementthatappearedinthenewspaperImpetuinPucallpathatday.Accordingtoit,theauthoritieshadoriginallyplannedtoburytheunidentifiablebodypartsinamassgrave.Thefamiliesofthevictims,however,foundthat“impious,godlessandinhumane,”andsuccessfullyfoughtthismeasure.Andsothesehumanremains,too,werelaidtorestinthemausoleumthatIvisitedforthefirsttimetwenty-sevenyearslaterwithWernerHerzog.

Duringtherecoverywork,atwenty-six-year-oldvoluntaryhelpernamedMarioZarbedisplayedanincredibleintuitionandfoundalmosthalfofthecorpsesonhisown.Accordingtotheinformationinthespecialsupplement,whichcontainedpersonalstatementsalongwithnumerousobituaries,atleastsixpeoplesurvivedthecrash;accordingtootheraccounts,itwastwelve.Aftertheofficialendoftherecovery,agroupofcivilians,whodidn’twanttogiveup,foundsixmorecorpses,amongthemthatoftheoneAmericanboy,theeighteen-year-oldDavidEricson,forwhomafuneralservicehadalreadybeenheld.

Personally,I’veneverbelievedtherewasacrimeagainstmymotherandregardmyfather’ssuspicionsatthattimeasthegrimthoughtsofadistraughtperson.Thehorriblesuspicionhewasharboringshowsmewhatadevastatingconditionhemusthavebeenin.

Asforherfinalrestingplace,IthinkthathermortalremainsareprobablymainlyintheAlasdeEsperanzamonument.What’sthedifferenceifhernameisn’twrittenthere?Perhapsit’sasgoodaplaceforherasAufkirchenonLakeStarnberg.Andwhat’smuchmoreimportant:I’mcertainthatshehasfoundherpeace.

Abreathtakingsunset,suchasoccuronlyinthetropics,turnstheskybloodred.Inafewminutesitwillbenight.

“Shallwegetgoingsoon?”myhusband,whoknowsmeasnooneelsedoes,askscautiously.It’sasuspicioussignwhenIsaynothingforlongerthantenminutes.ThenheknowsthatI’mbackinthepastagainwithmythoughts.

He’sright:Tomorrowwehavealongdayoftravelaheadofus.WhenIthinkofit,myheartleapsforjoy.SoonIwillbeinPanguana.

Anhourlaterwe’repackingagain.AndsuddenlyIcan’thelpthinkingofthesuitcasethatwassounexpectedlybroughttousbackthen.ItwasoneofthesuitcasesthatmymotherandIhadpackedinLimafortheChristmascelebrationinthejunglein1971.Itwascompletelyintact.Onlytheoutsideofitwassoaked.Amongotherthings,therewasaChristmasstolleninit,verysimilartotheonesooftendescribedinthenewspaperreports.MyfatherandIactuallyatethisone.

Tapeswithbirdcallswerealsodeliveredtous,andthensomethingelsethatmademeespeciallyhappy:myfountainpen,onwhichIhadwrittenmynamewithwaterproofinktoavoidanymix-ups.Afterall,almostallmyfriendswrotewithanidenticalfountainpen.Foralongtimeitwasamongmygreatesttreasures—untilitwasstolenfrommeyearslater,alongwithmypurse,duringatriptoSanRamón.Thislosspainedmedeeply.Sincethecrashithadbeenmyfaithfulcompanionandaconstantreminderofthefactthatthetwoofusfoundourwayagainstalloddsoutofthedepthsofthejungle,notunlikealostneedleinahaystack,backtolife.

Thenextdaythetimehascomeonceagain:WesetoffforPanguana….

14NothingistheSameasItWas

Recoveryafterthecrash:embracingagianttreeatPanguanaandregainingstrength,March1972.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

AToyotapickupwithfour-wheeldrivepicksusupearlyinthemorning.Forafewyearswehavealwaysbookedthesamedrivers.Theyknowthedifficultroutelikethebackoftheirhands,andsofartheirvehicleshavealwaysbeenreliable.

“Theroadisopen,”hesays,aftergreetingus,andIheaveasighofrelief.Forafewdaystheroutewasimpassableduetotheheavyrainfall.“Theconditionsaren’tgreat,butwe’llgetthrough.Yesterdayittookoneofourdriverssevenhours.”

Sevenhours—thatsoundsgood.ThemostimportantthingisthatwearriveinYuyapichisatdaytime,foratnightthecrossingoftheRíoPachiteaandthehiketotheresearchstationarestillmorearduousthanusual.

“Itwillbefine,”Neryreassuresme.“Ifneedbe,youcouldalwaysspendthenightinmyhouseinYuyapichis.”

Asalwaysittakesawhilebeforeallthebaggage,includingalltheprovisionsthatwebrought,isstowedintheopentruckbed.ThenaboardisputoverthegasolinecanisterforrefuelingasaseatbenchforMoroandtheseconddriver.Theywillspendthedriveupthere—asIknowfrommyownexperience,notalwaysapleasureunderthescorchingsunandondustyormuddybumpyroads.ButMorolaughs:he’susedtoitandwillsleep—he’ssureofthat.

WhenweturnontothecarreterathatleadsintothejungletowardtheAndes,andwillultimatelyendinLima,I’mhappy.ThiseveningIwillbeinPanguana!EvenafteralltheseyearsinGermany,it’sstillahomecomingforme.

It’sjustlikebackthen,whenafterafour-weekstayintheInstitutoLinguísticodeVerano,myattentivedoctorsfinallyallowmetoleavemybed.ForafewdaysIlivewithmyfatherwiththeMaulhardtfamily,whohospitablyputmeupintheirbungalowhotelLaCabaña.HereIalsohavemylastinterviewswithanewreporterfromStern,RolfWinter.Ihavetoconfess,allthequestionsarestartingtogetonmynerves.ThemeetingswithGerdHeidemannandHeroBusshadgonepleasantly.Eventhougherrorscreptintotheiraccounts,whichwouldbecopiedathousandtimes.

Inthepreliminaryreport,whichappearedbeforethetwoofthemhadevenspokentome,somuchofthegroundworkwaslaidforrumors,whichwouldneveragainbeeradicated.ThispiecewasclearlybasedonthearticlethathadfirstappearedinLifemagazine,forwhichthereporterhadinterviewedvariouspeople,suchasthenurseinTournavista,thepilotJerrieCobbandprobablyalsothewoodcutterswhohadrescuedme.SoSternwrotethatItooka

cakewithmefromthecrashsite.Thiscake,whichunfortunatelydidnotexist,forIcouldn’teatthecompletelymud-soakedpanettone,willspreadworldwidethroughallthecoverageandtakemanystrangeforms.Fortheonecakesoonturnedintoseveral!Finally—inParisMatch–ithadtransformedintosomanythatIcan’tevencarryallofthemwithme,forwantofabag,andIhavetoleavethembehind.LaterthecakewillturnintoaChristmasstollenIbakedformyfather;inanothernewspaperIholdontoitinmylapthewholetimeduringtheElectraflight,sothatafterIwakeupontheforestfloor,Iconvenientlyhaveitrightatmyfingertips.

TheSternreportersarealsosurprisedthatIleftthecrashsiteandevenwriteofa“mistake”thatsavedmylife.ButIknewverywellwhatIwasdoing.IhadrealizedthatnoonewouldeverfindmeintheplacewhereIwokeup.Icertainlydidnotrunpanic-strickenthroughthejungle,butfollowedwithgoodreasonthecourseofthewater.

Inthepreliminaryreporttheabsurdmythoftheself-builtraftisalsotakenfromtheLifearticle:

ThefactthatJulianeknewwhichbranchesandlianasaresuitedforthebuildingofaraftwasthesecondstrokeofluckthatsavedherlife:Ifshehadchosenthewrongmaterialforherraft,shewouldhavebeeninthemiddleoftheriverwithoutachance,forintherainyseasoneventhesmallrivers,whicharealltributariesoftheAmazon,havearagingcurrent.

ThedetailthatIhad“manyworms”(vieleWürmer)inmyarm,whichprovokedtheexpertfromMunichtowriteareader’sletter,isalsointhisveryfirstarticle.

Inthesecondpartofthereport,there’sasentencethatmanylaterheldagainstme:AfterthecrashJulianeresolved:“NowFatherhaslosthiswife,buthe’snotgoingtolosehisdaughtertoo.”ThissuggeststhatIhadseenmydeadmotherandpossiblyothercorpsesorinjuredpeopleaswell,whichwas,ofcourse,notthecase.Thisthenledtothefalsereportsthatinjuredpeoplewerewanderingthroughtheforest,cryingandscreaming,butIranoffonmyown.Butthesearebasicallyallthetypicalinaccuraciesfromwhichjournalistsallovertheworldareclearlynotimmune.Whataffectedmemuchmorewasthetoneandcontentofthelastpartofthereport,writtenbyRolfWinter.Here,inissueno.9,February17–23,1972,Iamportrayedonpage54asanunfeeling,arrogant,precociouschild.(Inthearticlethephrase“littleJuliane”appearsatotalofseventimes!)Iamdepictedassomeonewhoremainscompletely

unmovedbyherexperiencesandalsoincomprehensiblywouldliketogobacktothejungle.Heapparentlydoesn’tnoticethatI’mstillsufferingfromtheaftereffectsofanintenseshock.Tomyknowledge,peoplehadheardofthisphenomenonevenin1972.Fundamentally,I’manythingbutavindictiveperson,buttothisdayIhavenotforgivenRolfWinterhislastparagraphs:

Itneednotbefearedthatshewillhavetosufferonhercontinuedlife’sjourneyfromanexcessoffeminineemotions.Norwillshelosesleepoverthetragiccircumstancethathernowdeadmotherandsheactuallydidn’tevenwanttotakethecrashedplane,butratheralreadyhadticketsforanotherairline.Someonetoldthemmistakenlythattheflightwascanceled,sotheyflewwithLANSA—themothertoherdeath,thedaughtertotragedy-envelopedluck.

LittleJuliane,wholookssofragileandinneedofhelp,muchmorechildthanwoman,willcopewiththesesortsofthings.Still,sheisonlyhuman.SomeonetellsherthatatthestationinPanguanaherbird“Pinxi”hasdied.Shefoundhimonceafterhehadfallenoutofthenest,sheloveshim,andnowhe’sdead.

NowlittleJulianecries.

IwillgetusedtoreadingmystoryinvariationsthatareconstantlysurprisingtomeandtothefactthatcompletestrangersknowhowitwasatthattimemuchbetterthanImyselfdo.ButtherearecertainthingsIwillnevergetusedto.Ifindituncannyhowmytrekthroughthejunglestirspeople’simaginations,rightuptotheluridnovelAJungleGoddessMustNotCry.It’squitepossiblethatmyfate“inspired”Konsaliktowritethisshoddywork,anunspeakablestoryaboutablond,likewiseseventeen-year-old,girlwhosurvivesaplanecrashinAmazonia—conveniently,alongwithabraveyoungman—andisfoundbydangerousheadhuntersandabductedasasungoddess…andsoonandsoforth.Ofcourse,manyreportsalsomentionthatmydresswascompletelyintattersandIwashalfnaked.Isavedtheminidress,andasidefromthedefectivezipperandasmallholeinthesideseam,it’sinastonishinglyflawlesscondition.Butapparentlythetruthiseventuallynolongersoimportant.Ithastotakeabackseattowhatpeopleimagineintheirwildestfantasies.

Soit’snowonderthatI’mrelievedattheendofJanuary1972whenI’vefinallyrecoveredenoughsothatIcantravel.WithmyfatherIgotoPanguana.Ourrelationshiphaschangedradicallyduetowhathashappened.Overnight,itseemstome,I’veturnedfromacarefreechildintoanadult,andnothinghaspreparedmeforit—neithertheschoolinLimanortheschoolofthejungle.Imightbeabletokeepmyselfalivefordaysintherainforest,butI’munarmedagainstwhatpeltsdownonmeaftermyrescue.

UptothatpointIhadamuchcloserrelationshipwithmymother.Shewasmyconfidante,asmuchasmyfather’s.Perhaps,Irealizeonlynow,shewasalwaysasortofintermediarybetweenmyfatherandtheworld.Thevoidsheleftbehindbringsusclosertoeachother.Andyetmyfather,whowillnevergetoverlosingher,willalwaysremaintosomeextentastrangertome.

Idon’thavemanyconcretememoriesofthefiveorsixweeksinPanguanabetweenthecrashandmydeparturetoLima.Mymotherisn’tthere,butshemightjustaswellhavebeenononeofhertripsabroad.Igetayoungcoatiasagift,andInamehimUrsi.Hereallykeepsmeonmytoes.Hegetsuptoalotofnonsenseand,ofcourse,cannotbehousebroken.Atonepointhedevoursourentiresupplyofaspirinpills.Anothertimehesnatchesourvaluablethermometeranddisappearswithitontotheroofofthehut.Ihavealotoffunwithhim,eventhoughheravagesourkitchenrepeatedlyinsearchofsomethingdelicious.

Unfortunately,asRolfWinterreported,Pinxi,oneofmyblackbirds,diedduringmystayinYarinacocha.Myfatherhadputthebirdsinthecareoffriends,andtheretheyhadprobablyeatensomethingthatPinxicouldn’ttolerate.NowIbegintograduallyreturntheotherblackbird,Punki,tothewild.Ireleasehim,andheimmediatelyjoinsagroupofblackbirdsbuildingtheirhangingnestsinanearbytree.Still,hekeepscomingbacktomewhenheseesme.Hereallylovestocomeswoopingintothekitchenhutandplungewithoutwarningintooneofthebowlsofbreaddoughorwhateverelsehappenstobestandingaroundatthemoment.EventuallyhegetsonmynervessomuchwiththisthatIofferhimaspoonfulofmustard,andgreedyasPunkiis,heimmediatelysinkshisbeakintoit.Fromthatpointon,he’smorecarefulandnolongercomessmashingimmediatelyintoanybowl.

Thefamiliarsurroundings,spendingtimewithmybelovedtameanimalsandthoseintheforestoutsideourdoor—allthisdoesmegood.WhenmyfatherandIspeakaboutthefuture,thenIknowexactlywhatIwant:toreturntoLima,togotoschoolfortwomoreyearsandthentotakemyAbitur.ThiswasjustwhatIwasplanningbeforethecrash.

IwanttopickupmylifeagainwherethethreadbrokeonDecember24.Iwanttogoonlivingmycompletelynormallife,justlikebefore.AtonepointmyfatherspeaksofsendingmetoGermany.Iarguewithhim,whichIrarelydo.Idon’twanttogotherenow.Germanyisaforeigncountrytome.Anythingbutstillmorechange.Iwanteverythingtogoonthewayitwas.Oratleastalmost.

Noonecanbringbackmymother.Andevenhereinthejungle,whereeverythingisactuallythesameasitusedtobe,nothingisthesameasitwas.Thisparadoxwillstaywithmeformanyyears.Formydesirefornormalityissostrongthatitsometimesalmosthurts.Here,inFebruary1972inPanguana,IreallythinkI’vemovedonfrom“it.”IwillsoonfindouthowmuchI’mdeceivingmyself.

Thegriefformymother—itstillhasnotreachedme.Notuntilaboutthreeyearslater,onaChristmasDay,willIgraspwithfullforcetheirretrievabilityofthisloss.OnlythenwillIcry,alldaylong,almostwithoutcease.Butuntilthatpointherdeathremainsformelikeadistanttheory.Asifmymothermightstepoutoftheforestatanymoment,shouttomewithalaughaboutwhateverexcitingthingshehasdiscoveredthistime.FormanyyearsIdreamagainandagainthatIsuddenlyspotherbychanceontheothersideofthestreet.Iruntoher,calltoher,wefallintoeachother’sarms,andalliswell.I’mboundlesslyrelievedandsooohappy—untilIwakeup.

Iknowthatthiswillneverhappen.Butthinkingandfeelingareseparatefromeachother.Inthosedaysandweeksbetweenthecrashandwhatwillfollow,Ilearnthatunderstandingsomethingandgraspingitaretwodifferentthings.AtleasthereIhavealittlepeaceandquiet,eventhoughsomeespeciallytenaciousjournalistsevenfollowmeallthewaytoourverydifficult-to-reachrefuge.

Atonepoint,forexample,toourgreatsurpriseanursearrives,claimingtohavetoexaminemywounds.Herfacelooksfamiliartome.

“Don’tIknowyou?”Isay.“Didn’tIseeyouinYarinacocha?”It’sajournalist,whothattimealreadytriedinadifferentroletoforceherwaytome.Nowshehasdisguisedherselfasanurse.Myfatherdrivesheraway.Therestoftheday,hisexpressionisgloomy.I’dliketoknowwhat’sgoingoninsidehishead.Orrather:Idon’twanttoknow.

Theweekspass,andlifegoeson.I’mlookingforwardtoseeingmyclassmateswho,likeme,willbepreparingfortheAbitur.AndI’mlookingforwardtolifeinLimawithmoviesandmilkshakesandexcursionstothebeach.AftertheAbitur,I’llstudybiology.Forthat,IwillgotoGermany,asIalreadyhaddiscussedalongtimeagowithmymother.Theuniversitiesare

betterinGermany,shehadsaid.IwouldliketostudyinKielandbecomeazoologist,justlikeherandmyfather.Butthatwillstilltaketwoyears.Twoyearsarealongtimeinthelifeofaseventeen-year-old.Andthenthetimehascome,andthenewschoolyearisjustaroundthecorner.

IfonlyIwerealreadythere!ButbeforeIcangotoschoolagaininLima,IhavetocrosstheAndes.

“I’llflywithyou,”saysmyfather.Ihavealumpinmythroat.Ofcourse,wedon’tbookwithLANSA.Evenifwewantedto,thatwouldn’tbepossible,forwiththeElectratheairlinelostnotonlyitslastplane,butalsoitslicense.Myfather,whotriestosuethecompanyinLima,willlearnthatitwaslongsinceliquidated.Butthefactthatwe’reflyingwithadifferentairlinedoesn’tdispelmyfearofthisflight.

“Dowehavetofly?”Iaskmyfather.Hecastsabriefglanceatme.Thenhesays:“Itwillbebetterthan

windingacrosstheAndresforthreedays,don’tyouthink?”I’mnotsurewhetheritwillbebetter.ButIdon’tsayanythingelse.I

learnedalongtimeagotobebrave.

IfIthoughtthattheworldhadforgottenmeinthemeantime,I’malreadydisabusedofthatnotioninPucallpa.IhavenoideahowthejournalistsknowthatIwillflyatthisparticulartimetoLima.Inanycasetheyholdmicrophonesinfrontofmyfacefromallsides.Camerashum;flashesblindme;flowersarehandedtome;questionsbombardme.AmIdoingwell?Howaremywoundshealing?WhatamIgoingtodowithmylife?WouldIliketogreetthegirlsofPucallpa?AmIafraidtogetonanairplaneagain?

Idon’tknowwhattosay.Ofcourse,I’mafraid.Butbeingmobbedsosuddenlybythispackscaresmeevenmore.I’malmostrelievedonceI’msittingintheairplane.Butthatisonlyuntilittakesoff.ThenInoticehoweverymuscleinmybodytenses.

Iclosemyeyesandtrytotakeadeepbreath.Straintolistentoeverysound,howeverslight.Todaynostormcanbeseenfarandwide.Fortunately,theflighttakesunderanhour.Butfiftyminutescanbesoterriblylong.

I’vealmostmadeitthroughtheflightwhenIhearanoisethatmakesmepanic.It’sarattlingandbanging—myheartskipsabeat;sweatbreaksoutfromallmypores.Iclingtotheseatinfrontofme.

“Relax,”saysmyfather.“It’sonlythelandinggear.It’sbeinglowerednow.Inafewmomentswe’llalreadybelanding.”

Iheaveasighofrelief.Shortlythereafter,Iclimb,mykneesstillwobbling,outoftheplane.

Butwhatareallthesepeopledoingatthebottomofthesteps?Awholecrowdbesiegestheairfield,surroundstheairplane.Aretheyallowedtodothat?Aretheywaitingforme?OnceagainI’mphotographed.Here,too,peopleholdmicrophonestowardme.I’dlikebesttoturnbackaroundandhidemyselfawayintheairplane.Buttheotherpassengersarepushingfrombehind.

It’slikerunningthegauntlet:“Juliana,”Ihear,“smileforus!”“Juliana,haveyourecoveredwellfromthegreenhell?”“Juliana,whatwillyoudonow?”Idon’twanttosayanything.Iwanttodisappearintothinair.I’mgenerallyashyperson,andthisattentionisgettingtobetoomuchforme.“Juliana,doyoualreadyhaveaboyfriend?”“Juliana,isittruethatyoupraytoSanMartíndePorres,theblacksaint?”

Finallywe’vegottenthrough.Icanhardlybelieveit.Whyareallthesepeoplestillinterestedinme?DuringtheweeksinPanguana,Isawbarelyahandfulofpeople.AndhereI’mbeingoverrun.

Asheoftendoes,myfatherlivesduringthisstayinLimaintheguestroomofthenaturalhistorymuseum.Hewithdrawsfromeverything.Hedoesn’twanttoseeorhearanything,butpreferstobealonewithhisgrief.AndImovebackintomyroominmyschoolmateEdith’sgrandmother’sapartment.ButifIthoughteverythingwouldbethesameasitwasbeforethecrash,nowIrealizethatnothingisthesameasitusedtobe.Completestrangersapproachmeonthestreet,wantmyautographorjustwanttotouchme.Ifindthisincrediblytrying.Ihaven’tyetlearnedtodealwiththissudden“fame.”Andthejournalistsdon’tgivemeanypeaceeither.WhenIstepoutofthehouse,they’realreadythere.WhenItakeawalkwithmyfriendsinthecity,theyfollowus.Whenwegotothebeach,they’realreadywaitingforme.Theyeventrytophotographmeinmyroomwithatelephotolens.UltimatelyIfeelasifI’mundersiege.It’snofunatalltodoanythinganymore.Thisisn’thowIimaginedmyreturntoLima.

InthismoodmyfriendEdithpersuadesmetogoswimmingwithherintheGermanClub.I’vebeenthereonlyrarely,formyparentsdidn’tvisitthatplace,butEdithdoesn’trelent.

“Oh,”Isay,“Idon’tknow.I’msuretobeambushedbyjournaliststhere.I’drathernot.”

“Butyoucan’tsitinyourroomwiththecurtainsdrawnforever,”shereplies.“Itwouldbebestifyoujustgotusedtothepress.Andyou’llsee,it’snotasbadasyouthink.”

Edithknowswhatshe’stalkingabout.ShehasalreadywonnumerousmedalsasatrackathleteforPeru,andsheisfamousherself.Shehasexperiencewithpresspeople,andshepromisestostandbyme.

“Besides,you’reimaginingthings,”shesays.“Theydon’tletjournalistsintotheGermanClub.Comeon,theweatherissobeautiful.”

FinallyIgivein.Edithisright,Ithink,soonschoolwillbestartingagain,andwedon’thavemuchtimeleftforthingslikethat.

Atfirst,everythingseemstobequietintheGermanClub.Butnosoonerhavewesteppedoutofthechangingroomthantheyarealreadythere:Ihavenoideahowtheygotin,butsuddenlythepresshassurroundedmeonceagain.Thistimethere’sevenatelevisioncamerapointedatme.

“Comeon,”Edithsayssoftlytome,“itwouldbebestifyouveryagreeablyansweredafewquestionsnow.Thenthey’llquicklyleaveyoualoneagain.”

AndatheradviceIsitdownobedientlyonaswing,smilepleasantlyandanswerthejournalists’harmlessquestions.Andindeed,afterabrieftime,thetelevisioncrewdeparts.Still,theincidentleavesmewithabadfeeling.Thewaythatthepressfollowsmeinapack,almostlikewildcarnivores,isawful;thoughnojaguarsorotheranimalsattackedmeinthejungle,thesesupposedlycivilizedpeopleneverstoppedhuntingme.

Mylifewouldhavetakenadifferentcourseifmygodfatherhadn’tinvitedmyfathertohishomethatparticularevening.Theyturnonthetelevisionforthemainnews.Andtherehesees,tohisboundlessdismay,hisdaughter.She’ssittinginabikinionaswing,smilingintothecameraandtellingtheworldthatshe’sdoingwell.It’squiteacoincidence,becausemyfatherdoesn’tusuallywatchtelevision.Butduringthosetwominutes,ofalltimes,heiswatching.Firstheisthunderstruck.Thenheseesred.

“Sothat’showyoumournyourmother!”Hehurlsthewordsangrilyatmewhenhefindsmethatsameevening.Andthenheannouncestomehisirrevocabledecision.Iwillleavethiscountryimmediately.Iwon’ttakemyAbiturinLima,butinGermany.AssoonaspossiblehewillputmeinanairplaneandsendmetomyauntCordula.

I’mhorrified.Cry.Begtobeallowedtostay.Idon’twanttogotoGermany.Don’ttakeawaymyhometoo,Iwanttoscream,notthattoo.I’vealreadylostsomuch.Buttheseverereprimandofhis“Sothat’showyoumournyourmother”seemstodeprivemeofallmyrights.I’mdoingwell,afterall,you

couldhearthatontelevision.Onlyheisconsumedwithgriefforhisbelovedwife.Overthenextfewdays,Ihopeandpraythathewillcometohissenses.Oncehe’scalmeddown,Ithink,he’llreconsider.Butmybeggingisinvain.Hisdecisionhasbeenmade.

“HereinPeru,”hesaysafewdayslater,“you’llnevergetanypeace.Thesejournalistvultureswillkeepyoufrombeingabletoleadanormallife.Believeme,thisisforyourowngood.InGermany,you’llbeabletostartanewlife.”

Anewlife.ButIdon’twantanewlife.Ijustwanttobeabletogoonleadingmyoldlifelikeeveryothergirlinmyclass,togotoschoolandtakemyAbitur.Afterthat,I’llgotoGermany.Butnotnow,notaftereverythingthathashappened….

It’snouse.Mypassportphotoshavetobetaken.InthemIhavetearsinmyeyes.Everythinghappenssoquickly,asinabaddreamfromwhichIjustcan’twakeup.

Whenmyschoolmateshearofmyimminentdeparture,theyorganizeafarewellpartyforme.Onthisoccasiontheygivemeabeautifulring,redgoldwithapinktourmaline,sothatIshouldneverforgetthem.Theychippedintobeabletobuyitforme.I’mtouchedandhavetocryonceagain.

IrememberanafternoonwalkingthroughthestreetsofMirafloreswithmyfather.He’stryingtoexplainsomethingtome,talkingaboutthephilosophytowhichheandmymotheradhered,theancientEgyptians’beliefinthesignificanceofthesunasalife-givingpower.Inoticethathe’ssearchingforwords.Hemakesastrangemovementwithhishand,asifhehadtowavesomethingaway,butthere’snothingthere.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Iaskwithalarm.“What’sthatabout?”“Oh,nothing,”hesays,andstopswalking.“Juliane,”hethensaysinacompletelydifferenttone,“yourmotherand

I,wehadafewruleswealwaysadheredto.Oneofthemisnevertosaygood-byetoeachotherinafightoreventogotosleepatnightwithoutmakingupfirst.”

Ilookathimandwaitforhimtogoon.Herunshishandoverhisface.“That’simportant,”hesays.Nothingmore.Ilookintohisface,observinghisdeepwrinkles,thehint

ofdespairaroundhismouth,hisalert,almostburningeyes,whichseemtohavesunkevenfartherbackintotheirsockets.AndsuddenlyIrealize:Myfatheriscompletelyattheendofhisnerves.

Washetryingwiththosewordstomakeupwithme,awkwardashewasinemotionalmatters?AtthetimeIwastooyoung,toodistraughtandconfusedtorecognizethat.Tomyfriends’grandparents,withwhomIwasliving,Isaidinfarewell:“I’llbebacksoon!”

Buttheyonlylookedateachotherandthensaid:“Wedon’treallythinkso,Juliane.Itwon’tbethatsoon.”

ButIdidn’twanttohearthat.Ireplied:“Yes,itwill.I’msureofit.”

TherearephotosfromtheairportinLima.Ofcourse,thePeruvianjournalistsfollowedmeuptotheverylastmoment,andinGermanytheircolleagueswerealreadywaitingforme.InthesephotosI’mwavingsadlyatthecamera,whilemyfatherkeepsaneyeonmewitharatherpinchedface.Helooksnervousinthesepictures.Perhapshe’shavingdoubtsabouthisdecision?Orhe’safraidI’llthwarthisplansatthelastinstant,afterall?ThefactthatIwassenttoGermanyagainstmywill—formanyyearsIsuccessfullysuppressedthat,atleastonthesurface,likesomanythings.ForalongtimeIsaid:“…andthenwedecidedI’dbebetteroffgoingtoGermany.”But,inactuality,myfatherdecidedthat,andIwasreallyunhappyaboutit.TodayIhave,ofcourse,cometorealizethathisdecisionwasrightintheend.

Butatthetimetherewassomuchthatfilledmewithanxiety.FirstandforemostIhadtoface,alone,myfirstoverseasflightever.

15HomecomingtoaForeignCountry

Mynewlifeinaforeignland,residingatthehomeofmyauntandmygrandmotherinGermany,1974.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

Ihadtoconquerthestressofsittinginanairplaneagain,andthistimeitwouldnotbeonlyfiftyminutes,butawholeeighteenhours.Fortunately,Igottospendsomeofthesehoursinthecockpit,whichmadethetimepassmuchmorequicklyformeandtosomeextentallayedmyfear.IfoundespeciallyfascinatingtheeveningstopoverinNewYork,whichIgottowitnessfromthecockpit.Iwasimmediatelyseizedagainbymyenthusiasmforallthingstechnical,andthefriendlypilotspatientlyansweredmyquestions.

AndyetonthisflightovertheAtlantic,Iwasinasortofpsychologicalno-man’s-land.Mypreviouslifehadcometoanabruptend.Ihadnotyetbegunanewone.AndIwasgraduallygraspingthatthecrashwasmorethananunpleasantincidenttobeexperienced,workedthroughandthenforgotten.EventhoughIhadmiraculouslylandedrelativelysoftlyontherainforestfloor—IstillfeltasifIhadnogroundundermyfeet,nobasis,nofoundation.

Ihadlostmymother.Myhomehadjustbeentakenfromme.AndIhadnoideawhatwouldawaitmeinmynewlife.IhadsetoffwiththefirmconvictionthatIwouldreturnassoonaspossibletoPanguana.InrealitymanyyearswouldgobybeforeIwouldseemybelovedjungleagain.

Perhapsthat’swhyitisalwaysreallyspecialformetoreturntothisspotinthemiddleofthePeruvianrainforest.Todayitturnsonceagainintoatestofpatience.NosoonerhaveweleftthecarreteraandturnedontothedirtroadtowardYuyapichisthanthere’sonemudholeafteranother.Afterrainfalltheredlateritegroundcausescarstoslideallovertheplace,andafterthepastfewweeksofheavyshowers,itrequiresalotofexperiencetosteerthefullyladentrucksafelythroughtheseperils.SeveraltimesevenI,whohavebynowalreadytraveledhereinthejunglesooftenandwithallsortsofroadconditions,think:We’renotgoingtomakeitoverthisobstaclehere!Especiallywhentheroadheadssteeplydownwardforafewyardsasonaslideintoawaterholeofindeterminabledepth,andthen,aftertenortwentyyards,backupanequallysteepslide.Butourdriverisnotsoeasilyimpressed,andheunswervinglymaneuversusthroughthismess.Onthewaywemeetsmallandlargertrucksandpickups,fullyladenwithgoodsandpeople.Likebunchesofgrapestheyclingtotheloadontopandholdonastightaspossible.Youcan’tbetimidwhenthevehiclereallypitches;butforaliftforafewsoles,peoplehereintheseremoteareaswillputupwithalot.

“Oncewe’vereachedTheDoor,”saysthedriver,“thingswon’tbesobad.”

Andhe’sright.Weonlyhavetochangeatireonce,andthetwodrivers

takecareofthatasroutinelyasiftheydiditeveryday.Andthat’sactuallythecase.“Atire?”laughstheseconddriver,whoisclearlyhappytohavesomethingtodoinsteadofjustbeingtossedaboutonthetruckbed.“That’snothing!”The“new”tirehasalmostnotreadleftatall,butthatdoesn’tbotheranyone.

Andthenthejourneycontinues.AtTheDoorwemakeonlyabriefstoptoday.Theseñoraisnotat

home,andIgiveherdaughterafewphotosItookofhermotheronthelasttripthrough.Wehaveabeerandmoveon.It’snotlongbeforewecrosstheRíoShebonya.HereIhavethetruckstopbriefly,forthisriverremainsspecialtome.Iwalktothebridge,crossithalfwayandlookbetweentheirontrussesintothewater.HowoftenhaveIaskedmyselfwhetherIpassedbyheretoo,swimmingordriftinginthewater,wadingalongtheriverbank,alwaysonthealertforstingrays?EveryoneIaskedaboutwheretheplanewreckagewasfromheregavemeadifferentanswer.It’sbackintheclutchesofthejungle,disturbedonlyoncebythetenacityofWernerHerzog.

Andonwegoacrossthewide,earthywhite-waterSúngaroRiverandthroughthesettlementofthesamename,continuouslyheadingsouth.It’snotfar,andyetthejourneydragson.Myimpatiencegrowswithmyanticipation.Aftercrossingthebeautifulblack-waterYanayacuRiver,wereachthedead-endroadtoYuyapichis.Whenwefinallyarriveinthevillage,it’sstillthreehoursbeforetwilight.IurgeMorotohurry,fornowit’stimetoarrangeboatsforusandforourcargo.Butthingsdon’tgothatquicklyhere.Ishouldactuallyknowthat.

Andeventuallythehecticpaceofthecitysimplyfallsawayfromme.Thejunglehasitsowntempo,andpeopleadapttoit.AndsoIdon’tgetworkedupwhenMoroisstandinginfrontofmeanhourlater,sweatingandgaspingforbreath,withthenewsthathewasabletofindaboatforusandoursuitcases,butnotforourfood.SowestoreitforthetimebeinginNery’shouseandheadtotheriver.Mañana,mañana—tomorrowisanotherday.

Thejourneyacrosstheriverhasalwaysbeenlikethecrossingofamysteriousborderforme.Ononesideliesreallife;ontheotherisPanguana.Ofcourse,PanguanaisjustasrealaslifeinLimaorMunich.Butitbelongstoanotherworld.Inthecitynatureisatoleratedguest:youplantafewtrees,putplantsinfrontofthewindowandkeepapet.HereinPanguana,natureisthehost,andwearethevisitors.Evenifthisspotbelongstomeonpaper,Iviewitmoreasborrowed,orbetterstill:entrusted.Webiologistscome,marvel,learn,describeandtrytomakeournewlyattainedknowledgeaccessibletohumanity.

“What’sthepointofknowinghowmanybeetles,ants,bugs,mitesand

othercreaturesarecrawlingandflyingaroundthere?”I’moftenasked.“Whatgooddoesthatdous?”

“Youcanonlyprotectwhatyou’vefirststudiedandgottentoknow,”Iusuallyanswer,“andatsomepointpeoplewillrealizehere,too,thatit’smorebeneficialandvaluabletopreservetheforestsandtheirbiodiversityinthelongruninsteadofdestroyingthemforashort-termprofit.”Butaslongasweregardtherainforestasnothingbutawilderness,a“greenhell,”we’rebehavinglikechildrensettingfiretoaheapofmoneyjustbecausetheydon’tknowwhatthepaperisworth.

Iprefernottotalkaboutmyloveforthisgreenuniverse,whosesecretswehavestillbarelypenetrated.Manypeopleviewfeelingsasanunsoundargument.Andthereare,ofcourse,reallyenoughgoodarguments:Ifthetropicalforestsaredestroyed,thentheCO2previouslystoredinthebiomasswillescapeintotheatmosphere,andthat’sseveralbilliontons.Andotherharmfulgaseswillbereleasedaswell.Iftheforestcoverisdecimated,itwillgetincreasinglydry,thegroundwaterlevelwillsinkandthetemperatureswillrise.Theconsequencesarevast,andtheyhavealarmingeffectsontheentireglobalclimate.

Whenmyparentscamehereoverfortyyearsago,theAmazonianforestswerestillasgoodasunexplored.Itwastheirideatoinvestigateinaparticular,well-definedareawhatcohabitshereinasmallspace.TheychosePanguana,inordertodirecttheirfocusonthisexemplaryarea,lessthanasquaremile,intheimmensityoftherainforest.Tobeginwith,theysimplywantedtoobserveandcompilewhatlivesandgrowshere.Thebulkoftheirwork,therefore,consistedinmakinglistsofspecies.Atthesametimetheywantedtostudytheecosystemofthelowlandrainforest,inwhichthesemanyspeciesinteractwithoneanother,especiallythe“ecologicalniches”ofanimalsandplants,foreveryspeciesfindsitselfanicheinwhichitcanexistalongsidetheothers.Thisisusuallyaverycomplexandexcitingwebofrelationships.Whilemymotherasanornithologistfocusedmainlyonbirdlife,myfatheralwayssethissightsonthe“bigpicture,”andhewasactuallyworkingecologicallyfromthebeginning,eventhoughinhisdaythatwasn’tthetermforit.

OriginallymyparentswantedtostayhereforfiveyearsandthengobacktoLimatoanalyzetheirresults.Atthattimetheyprobablycouldn’timaginelivinglongerthanfiveyearsinthisisolation.ButsoontheyrealizedthatthediversityinthelowlandrainforestneartheAndesissotremendousthatyouwouldneedmorethanawholelifetimetocomeevenclosetocompletingthelistsofspecies.Atthattimethelistsexistedonlyforthelargeorcommonanimalsandplants.Thereweresomesuperficialcompilationsforwiderregions

orthewholecountry,whichdisregardedbiologicalcontextsanddidnotparticularlytakeintoaccounttherainforest.Whatmyparentsachievedherebystrivingforexhaustivenessinasmallareaandilluminatingthedepthsofthisecosystemwasthustrulypioneeringwork.

Thenewsoftheenormousdiversityoflife-formsinPanguanaluredscientistsherefromallovertheworld.Myparents,especiallymymother,hadanexcellentworldwidenetworkofcolleagues—andthisatatimewhene-mailandtheInternetdidnotyetexistandaletterusuallyrequiredseveralmonthstoreachus.Inherlettersmymotheroftenmentionsthedifficultieswiththemail.NordidsheshyawayfromtrackingdownthoseresponsibleandaskingthemwhyapieceofmailsometimeseventookawholefivemonthstomakeitfromPucallpatoPanguana.

MymotherrepeatedlytraveledtotheUnitedStatesorEuropetoparticipateinconferences.Irememberparticularlywelloneofherlongerabsencesinearly1970,shortlybeforemyreturntoLima.Atthattimewehadnumerousscientistsvisiting,andIhadtocookdailyforeveryone,whichIfoundrathergrueling.

Myparentswerethefirsttoinvestigatehowanylife-formtheyfoundintegratesitselfhereinitsenvironment,howitescapesenemypressure,whatstrategiesitdevelopstochallengefoodcompetitors,andmuchmore.Sincetheyintendedtotakeeverythingintoaccount,toexcludenothingandsetnopriorities,itswiftlybecamecleartothemthatthisworkwasasgoodasendlessandwouldtakeaverylongtime,unlesstheyhadhelp.ForthatreasontheywerehappytobeabletointerestmanyoftheircolleaguesinPanguanaasanewfieldofstudy.Eventoday,farfromallthelifehasbeencatalogued,andyetPanguanaisthebest-exploredjunglestationinthePeruvianrainforest,eastoftheAndes.Itisalsotheoldest,thoughnotthelargest,andmostoftheothersareequippedwithsignificantlymoreresources.WhenmyfatherleftPanguanain1974andtaughtasaprofessorinHamburg,heassignedthesisprojectsanddissertationstohisstudentsonecologicalproblemsthatwerenotyetsowellinvestigatedinPanguana.Inthiswayalotofknowledgewasgatheredinthecourseoftime.ButstillnoonehasdonemoreextensivesystematicworkonPanguana’sfish.Once,myparentsspreadagillnetintheriverandsoonfoundthirty-fivedifferentspeciesinit.Here,too,therewouldstillbesomuchtodo.

IfmymothercouldseewhathasbecomeofPanguanasincethen,Ithink,asIclimbdownthebanktotheRíoPachitea,wheretheboatiswaitingforus,shewoulddefinitelybehappy.Andperhapsshewouldsaywithawink:“What?Inalltheseyearsyoustillhaven’tmanagedtocompletethespecieslist

offish?”Withtwoorthreesteps,Iclimbspiritedlyaboardourboat,PanguanaI,

acanoa,atraditionaldugoutcanoe,reinforcedandenlargedonthesideswithboards.It’sbesttostepexactlyinthemiddle,orelseyoumightfallinthewaterfasterthanyoucansay“oops.”DuringmytwoyearsinPanguana,Ievenusedtobeabletopoleasimplecanoawithoutsidereinforcementsbymyself.Ihaven’ttrieditinalongtime.Nowadaystheyusethetypicalseven-horsepoweroutboardmotors,knownas“peque-peques”becauseoftheirloudchuggingnoises.Theyhavealongsteeringrod,withthehelpofwhichyoucanliftthescrewoutofthewaterinnotime,whichisreallyhandyifyouinadvertentlyrunintoashoal.Andtomyearseventhepeque-pequessoundlikehome.

Intheeveningit’sespeciallybeautifulontheriversofAmazonia.Thewater,usuallythebrowncolorofcoffeewithmilk,receivesagoldenshimmer,theskytakesonanunrealtinge,andthebackgroundnoiseoftheriverbankbirds,frogsandinsectschangesitspitch.Noonespeaks.Theriverislikeamagicalribbononwhichwe’reglidingalong,downstreamandacrossthestatelybreadthofthePachitea,pastthehutsofgoldseekers,pasthousesinfrontofwhichchildrenareplaying,andaboveallpastthegreenwalloftheforest.Ikeepaneyeoutforhoatzins,whichoncesavedmylifeandwhichmymotherstudiedsointensively.Todoso,shewouldclimbdowntotheriveroncountlesseveningsandobservewithheruniquesaintlypatiencethebehaviorofthesestrangebirds.Buttodaythehoatzinsdon’tshowupanywhere.

WereachthemouthoftheYuyapichisRiver.Ourboatmanchangeshiscourseandheadsforasandypier.OntopofthehillIspottheoldMódenafarm,whichMoro’sgrandparentsoncecultivated.

Thelastlegofthejourney,ourhike,begins.Inthepastweusedtohavetofightfromhereon—ofcourse,onlyafter

arevitalizingstopatDoñaJosefa’s—throughdensesecondaryandprimaryrainforest.TodaytheforestbetweentheMódenafarmandPanguanahasbeenlargelycleared.Eventhoughthatmakesourhikeeasier,Iregretit,ofcourse.Overthepastthirtyyears,moreandmorelandownershaveswitchedtocattleranchingandclearedtheforestforthat.Buttheyhavenothadmuchsuccess.Forthepasturesattainedinthiswaybynomeansmeettherequirementsforprofitablecattleranching.Afterabrieffertilephase,duetotheslightamountsofnutrientsinthewoodashremainingfromtheslashandburn,thealreadynutrient-poorgroundsbecomebarren.Sincetheydon’thavetheforest’snetworkofroots,theycannolongerbecomesaturatedbytherain,andtheydryout.Thewaterdrainsmuchtooquickly.Thealreadyscarcelypresenttopsoiliswashed

intotherivers,andthere’sincreasederosion.Thegrassgrowssparselyandisnotparticularlynutritious,sothatthecattlerancherisforcedtosupplementitwithexpensiveconcentratefeed.Theinfrastructureinthejunglealsomakesithardforhimtomakeaprofitonhiscattle.Onthelongjourneys,oftencrammedtogetheronboats,theanimalsloseweightandareusuallyleanbythetimetheyarriveinPucallpa,wheretheydon’tsellforagoodprice.Nonetheless,everyyearmanyacresofrainforestaredestroyed.Forwantofknowledgeandgenuinealternatives,themythofpossibleaffluencethroughcattleranchingpersists.

Intheeveningofthislongjourney,wenowmarchcross-countryoverthepasturesoftheMódenafarmandaregladthatthesunisnolongersohighinthesky.WewadethroughadeepmudholeandtheRíoYuyapichisatanoldford,wherethewaterreachesjustuptotheupperedgeofourrubberboots.Moro’swife,Nery,andtheirtwodaughters,whojoinedusinthevillageofYuyapichis,arealreadyfaraheadofus.Nowwecontinueacouplemoremilesalonganoxbowlakeoftheriver,wherecaimanshaverecentlystartedlivingagain,whichpleasesmeimmensely.Fortoolongtheyweregone,eradicatedbytheIndiansandfarmers,whowereafraidfortheirsmallanimals,andforwhomthereallytastymeatofthecaimans,whichtheyhuntedandateasadelicacy,wasnothingtosneezeateither.

Andthen,finally,Icanseethelupunatree.Itrisesproudlyfromthemultitudeofothertreesandspreadsitsmightycrown—theemblemofPanguana,150feettallandmanyhundredsofyearsold.Moro’shousecomesintoviewnext,thenthetwoguesthouses.They’reunremarkablewoodenhuts,nothingmore—formetheymeanheavenonearth.Fortwoyearswehaveevenhadashowercabin;andeventhoughthereisonlycoldwater,it’sanenormousluxuryforus.Previouslywewasheddownintheriver,wheretherearemanyblackfliesandmidges,whosestingsoftengetunpleasantlyinflamedanditchterribly.Riverwaterisregularlypumpedintoalargecontainerontheroofofthecabin.Theearththatwashesinwithitsettlestothebottom,andoutofthepipecomesclear,gloriouslyrefreshingwater.Drinkingwater,however,wehavetobringwithusfromPucallpa,likemostotherfood.

Moro’sdogsbark.We’rehome.SmokeisrisingfromthechimneyofMoro’shouse:Neryhasalreadylitafireinthestoveandbegunpreparingdinner.I’msurethatshewillconjureupacustomarydelicacyforusevenwithouttheprovisionsthatwereleftbehindinYuyapichis.

OnthisfirsteveninginPanguana,despiteourfatigueafterthearduousjourney,weremainsittingforalongtimebycandlelightontheterrace,sothatthegeneratorcanremainshutoff.Weshareafewbeers,whichMoro

wonderfullytookalonginhisbackpack,andlistentothenoisesofthetropicalnight.Thesoundsofthejungleenvelopme.Aboveuscirclebats.ThereareoverfiftyspeciesofthesealonehereinPanguana.Istudiedthemforseveralyearsandrecordedtheresultsinmydissertation.Foreventhoughitwouldtakeyearsaftermydeparturein1972,eventuallyIreturnedtoPanguana.

Backthen,whenIflewfromLimaviaNewYorktoGermany,andfinallylandedcompletelyexhaustedinFrankfurt,Ijustacceptedthefactthathere,too,journalistswerewaitingformeandtryingeagerlytoshootaphotoofme.Ihadn’tsleptawinkduringtheflight,andIstillhadtogetusedtothephenomenonofthetimedifference.

InFrankfurt,friendsofmyparentswerewaitingforme,whohadarrangedaplanformystopover.IstillhadtocontinueontoKiel.

SoithappenedthatamongthefirstpeopleImetinGermanywasBernhardGrzimek,whowasnotonlyapopularanimalexpert,wellknownthroughthemedia,butalsodirectoroftheFrankfurtZoo.I’vealwayslikedvisitingzoologicalgardens,andnowIhadtheopportunitytoseethatfamousone.ButIwassotiredbythatpointthatIwasindifferenteventothevisittothezoo,andIjustacceptedstoicallyeverythingthatwasproposedtome.Onlylater,whenIlearnedthatGrzimek’ssonMichaelhadbeenthevictimofaplanecrashintheSerengetithirteenyearsbefore,didIrealizethatourencountermusthavebeenmovingforhimtoo.MichaelhadbeenexploringtheSerengetiinasmallplane,hadcollidedwithavulture,lostcontroloftheaircraftanddiedinthecrash.

FromFrankfurt,asmallerairplanewastobringmetoKiel,wheremyauntandgrandmotherlived,andIhadaterriblefearofgettingonthisplane.PerhapsthekindmarriedcouplelookingaftermeinKielcouldsensemyfear,fortheyaskedmeseveraltimeswhetherIwouldn’tpreferforthemtodrivemetoKiel.Iwouldhavesolikedtosay“yes!”ButIdidn’thavethecourage.AndsoIclenchedmyteeth,satdownintheturbopropairplane—liketheLANSAplane,butsmaller—andmadeitthroughthisflightaswell.Everythingwentwell.ButwhenIarrivedinKiel,Iwascompletelybeat,andthefirstthingIdidwassleepthirteenhoursstraight.

MyauntCordulaandmygrandmothergavemethewarmestwelcomeimaginable.Inthethree-roomapartment,Igotmyownlittlerealm—forthat,myauntgaveupherroomandsleptandworkedfromthatpointoninthelivingroom.Shenevermademefeelthatthismighthavebeenasacrifice.Forher,itsimplywentwithoutsaying.FromthebeginningIgotalongwellwithboth

women.Myaunt,inparticular,tookcareofmedevotedly,andIwillneverforgetthataslongasIlive.Still,theadjustmentwasanythingbuteasyforme.ThefirstthingthatstruckmeaboutGermanywasthatIwasfreezingallthetime.ItwasearlyApril,andIhadpreviouslyexperiencedcoldnesslikethatonlyintheAndes.

HereinKielmyauntalsotoldmehowtheyhadfoundouttheterriblenewsinGermany.Foratthattimetherewasn’tanye-mail,andevenmakingaphonecalltoadistantcontinentwasnotsosimple.Myfathercouldn’tbereachedinPanguana,anyhow,andsomyaunt’scontactsasajournalistcameinusefulforher.

AtfirsttheythoughtthatmymotherandIhadalreadyflownonDecember23,sotheywerenotyetthatworriedwhentheyheardaboutthecrash.Butthentheyheardthatwewereontheplane,afterall,andtheuncertaintybegan.DuringthosedaystheBonn,Germany,officeoftheAgenceFrance-Presseprovedextremelyhelpful.OnDecember26,theeditorsobtainedthepassengerlistoftheLANSAplanewithinthreehourswiththehelpoftheirofficeinLima.AuntCordula’scolleaguesalsokeptherupdatedontherescueoperation.Inathank-youletter,shewrote:ThenewsthatmyniecewasfoundlateintheeveningofJanuary4,1972wasofextraordinaryimportanceforthefamilymemberslivinginGermany,forwhomI’mspeaking.

TothisdayIfinditfascinatinghowdifficultitwasinthosedaystogetreliableinformationandhowresourcefulandwellconnectedmyaunt,nonetheless,was.

Yes,IspentthosefirstweeksinKielinadaze.Ididn’tfeelgood,Iwasconstantlynauseous,andsoIjustleteverythingwashoverme.Firstofall,becauseIhadcomesohastily,aschoolhadtobefoundforme,whereIcouldtakemyAbitur.Iwaslucky,forthehusbandofoneofmymother’srelativeswastheprincipaloftheWellingdorfGymnasiuminKiel,whichhadbeenthefirstschoolfarandwidetointroduceareformedOberstufe,whichisthehighersecondary-schoollevelinwhichstudentsobtaintheiruniversityentrancequalification.Heofferedmetheopportunitytogodirectlyintotheeleventhgrade.ThenwewouldseehowIdid.Indeed,thatlevelwassimplerforme.Icouldchoosethesubjectsthatsuitedmebest.InLima,however,theschoolyearbeganinAprilandhereintheautumn,soIwasbargingintothemiddleoftheongoingclasses,whichIfoundreallyawful.

Thefirstdayofschoolconfirmedthis:Ididn’tfindtherightclassroomimmediatelyandsoarrivedlate.Theteacherscoldedme:“Firstyou’renewand

thenyoualsocomelate!”Ontopofthat,IfirstofallhadtoadapttotheGermancustoms;forexample,inLima,youstoodupwhenitwasyourturntosaysomething.Iquicklybrokethathabit,though,afterIhadprovidedgeneralamusementwithitintheclass.

Iwasimmediatelyacceptedbytheotherstudentsandsoonhadareallynicecircleoffriends.Ofcourse,here,too,peopleknewwhoIwasandwhatIhadexperienced,andcuriousquestionswereinevitable.Ifoundithardtotalkaboutthewholething,especiallyeversinceIhadalsobeen“exiled”frommyhomelandofPeru.Butallthepeopleinmynewsurroundingsstrovetomaketheadjustmentaseasyaspossibleforme.Andyet—whathadbeenrushinginonmeoverthepastweekswassimplytoomuch,andmybodymadeitcleartomeoncemorethatIhadfarfromgottenovereverything.

EversincemykneeswelledupbackinYarinacocha,Ihadintensepainwhenwalking.Myauntbroughtmetoanorthopedisttohaveitlookedat.Henotonlylookedatmyknee,butalsointomyfaceandsaid:“Youreyesarereallyyellow!I’msendingyouimmediatelytoahospitalforexamination!”Theyadmittedmethenandthereandputmeintheisolationward,forInotonlyhadacruciateligamentrupture,butalsoafull-blowncaseofhepatitis.ThiswasmostlikelycausedbythewaterIdrankfromthestreaminthejungle,whichIhadneededinordertosurvivewithoutfood.Myliverwasswollen—thatwasthecauseofmyconstantnausea.

SothereIlay,anditwasbasicallyallrightwithme.AllIwantedwastohavemypeace,andnowIhadit.Ihadtomaintainastrictdiet,butthatdidn’tbothermeeither.Yes,Ilikeditinthehospital.

Thedoctorsandnurseswerefriendly,Ihadalivelyroommate,andIfeltmoresecurethanIhadinalongtime.AsfarasI’mconcerned,Ithought,Icouldstayhereforever.Isn’titstrangethatIhadtobeadmittedtothehospitalbeforeIfinallygotsomepeace?ButeverythingI’dgonethroughhadoverwhelmedme.

InYarinacocha,despitetherestfulenvironment,toomuchhadstillbeenrushinginonme:Therewerethejournalists,thedailyaccountsoftherecoveryofcorpses,thegruesomenewsandtherealizationthatIwasthesolesurvivor.Andultimatelytherewasthefactofmymother’sdeath.Ontopofthat,therewastheimperceptibletensionbetweenmeandmyfather,andhisgrief,whichhecouldn’tshow,butalsocouldn’thide.Therewassomuchthathadremainedunsaidbetweenus,andultimatelymyhastydeparturefromPeru,whichIhadyettogetover.NowIhadtime;nowIhadthepeaceIsourgentlyneeded.That’swhyIdidn’twanttoleavethisisolationward.

Afterfourweeks,whenIwasalreadydoingmuchbetter,thedoctorfoundoutthatIdidnothavehealthinsuranceinGermanyandhadtobearthecostsmyself.Bedrestanddiet,hesaid,Icouldalsomaintainathome,andhereleasedmethenandthere.AndIthought:Ohno,nowIhavetogosomewhereelseyetagain!ButmyaunttooksuchlovingcareofmethatIgraduallybegantofeelathome.Iremainedbedriddenforafewweeks.Mynewclassmatescametovisitmenowandthen,andsummerbreak,bythen,hadalreadyarrived.

InSeptember,Ibeganthenewschoolyearatthenormaltime,andloandbehold:Withmyaunt’ssupportIgotintothetwelfthgradeanddidnothavetorepeattheeleventh.Ichoseaconcentrationinbiology—ofcourse!—andGerman,thelatterattheadviceofmyaunt,whowasawriterandsupportedmyenthusiasmforliteratureinanywayshecould.Iwasalwaysgoodinthatsubject,butshehelpedmeimprovemystyle.OnlyinmathematicswasIdowngraded,becausewehadn’tdonesettheoryinPeruandthecurriculumwassomewhatdifferentthere.IntheendIacedmyGermanAbitur,andIwasveryproudofthat.

AuntCordulawasanextremelyinterestingwoman,andeachdayIcametoappreciatemoretheopportunitytolivewithher.Shewas,asmentioned,ajournalistandawriter.Becauseshewasunmarried,shelivedwithhermother.Shewasalwaysintheknowabouteverythingthatwasgoingoninpoliticsandinart.Myauntsharpenedmyawarenessofsuchthings,whichhadnotparticularlyinterestedmebefore.Amongotherthings,shewrotequitesuccessfulbiographiesoftheintellectualLouAndreas-SaloméandthephilosopherandnunEdithStein.

Whenshecouldhelpmewithmyessays,especiallyinterpretations,shewasreallyinherelement.I’llneverforgethowshetaughtmetointerpretpoetry.Shewantedmetofigureoutformyselfeverythingthatwasinapoem.SheencouragedmeuntilIsucceeded.Thosewerehoursthatbroughtusveryclosetoeachother,andIremaingratefultohertothisdayforopeningmymindtoallthingscultural.

InthosefirsttwoyearsinKiel,Idrewandpaintedalot.Ilikedtousechalkandcharcoal.Certainly,Iinheritedtheabilitiesforthisfrommymother,whowasanexcellentanimalillustrator.ShehadlearnedunderProfessorHansKrieginMunichhowtodrawbirdsinflightandotheranimalsinswiftmotion,andperfectedherrapidsketchingtechnique.Shealsoillustratedmyfather’sbooksandmadehundredsofdrawingsforthem.InPeru,asetofpostagestampswithfiveofherbirddrawingscameoutafterherdeath.Mymotherhadbeen

commissionedtodesignthesestampshalfayearbeforethecrashandcompletedthetaskshortlybeforehersuddendemise;formyfatherandme,theissuingofthestampsbecameasortofposthumoustestamenttomymother’slife’swork.

NowI,too,tookgreatpleasureindrawing,sothatIevenseriouslyconsideredstudyingartinsteadofbiology.AteacherattheWellingdorfGymnasium,withwhomIhadaspecialconnection,encouragedmyinteresttoo.Shetookmewithherontripstoviewthisorthatexhibition.Shealsoinvitedmetoherhome,andonthoseoccasionsImetsomeartistsoftheKielculturalscene.Allthiswasreallyenrichingforme,forinPeruIexperiencednothingofthesort.

EventhoughIwouldhavelikedtoforgetthepast,itwasnecessarytimeandagaintorememberwhathadhappened.Sternhadsoldtherightstomystorytoafilmproductioncompany,andanItaliandirectornamedGiuseppeScotese(nottobeconfusedwiththefamousAmericandirecterScorsese)visitedmetogetfirsthandinformation.SoIhadtotellhimeverythingagainfromthebeginningandanswerhisnumerousquestions.Ididsopatiently,butwasnotinvolvedfurtherinthefilmwork.Thatwasallrightwithme.ThelessIhadtodowithit,thebetter,Ithought.

MyfirstyearinKielwasapproachingitsend.MyauntmighthavebeenwonderinganxiouslyhowIwouldfeelduringChristmas,theanniversaryofthatterribleexperience.Butitwasstrange:MaybebecauseChristmasinGermanywassocompletelydifferentthanitwasinthejungle,maybebecauseIstillcouldnotreallyacknowledgemygrief—anotherrelapsedidnotoccur.Instead,Imadeplansforthecomingsummer.Thatmighthavebeenmywayofcopingwithmyhomesickness.AndsomyauntwrotetomyfatherthatIwouldliketovisitPanguanaoverthenextsummerbreakin1973.

Actually,themostnormalthingintheworld,youwouldthink:Adaughterwantstoreturnhomeoversummerbreak.Wasn’tIdoingeverythingmyfatherexpectedofme?Hadn’tI,despitemyseriousillness,masteredtheforeignschoolcurriculumwithflyingcolorsandevenskippedagrade?Inmyaunt’sletters,whichshewrotetomyfatherduringmyfirstyearinGermany,Irepeatedlyfindthesamerefrain:TheseweeksJulianehastoworkveryhardforschool.Curiously,Idon’trememberatallhavingsomuchtodo.Undoubtedly,thatwasthebestwayformetoputallI’dgonethroughbehindmeandkeephomesicknessatbay.

SoIhadslowlyarrivedinKiel,notonlyoutwardly,butalsoinmyheart.IhadrecoveredtothepointwhereIwashealthy,andwaslookingforward

toseeingPanguanaandmyfatheragain.UntilIcalculatedhowlittleofmyfive-weeksummerbreakwouldremainonceIsubtractedthelongandarduousjourney.Myauntadvisedmegentlyagainstit,andstressedwhatastrainitwouldbe:somuchtimeinairplanesforameretwoweeksinPanguana.Attheideaofhavingtoflyagain,Igotgoosebumps.AndwhenmymaternalgrandmotherurgedmetocomeandfinallyvisitheronLakeStarnberg,IgraduallyabandonedmyplantogotoPeru.

WhatIdidn’tknowwasthatmyfatherhadforbiddenmetocome,anyway.Inmyaunt’sposthumouspapers,Ifoundaletterthatmademybloodfreezeinmyveins.Whilemyfatheracceptedvariousvisitsfromzoologists,hewrote:

IamdismayedthatJulianewantstocomebackherealready.Idon’tfindthatadvisableatall.Pleasetalkheroutofit:therearetoomanythingsthatmakehercominghereappearilladvised.IfMaria’sbrotherwantstocome,heshoulddoit….HeshouldtakeintoconsiderationthatIhavenostaffhereandthatthisisnosummerresort.IfJulianeshowsuphereagainstmywill,thenshewillexperiencesomethingshewasn’texpecting.

Myauntreplied:

JulianehasalreadyabandonedherPerutravelplansonherown,whensherealizedthatshecouldhavehadatmostseventeendaysinPanguana,forthebreakisonlyfiveweekslong.Youcertainlydon’tneedtothreatenwithangrywords,asinyourletterofDecember30.Thatwillonlyjeopardizeherdifficultlyattainedandeasilyshakenmentalandphysicalequilibrium.That’swhyIdidn’ttellheraboutitatall.

Onlynow,fortyyearslater,doIlearnaboutthis,andwonder:Whydidn’tmyfatherwanttoseeme?What“things”mademyvisit“appearilladvised”?Washeunabletobearmypresence?DidheresentthatIwasaliveinsteadofmymother?

Evenaftersomanyyears,hisroughlyphrasedletterforbiddingmetocomehomestillhurtsme.Butwhatisstillodder:UntilIfoundthisletterafewweeksago,IhadcompletelysuppressedthefactthatIhadatthattime

consideredgoingtoPanguanaatall.Ifsomeonehadaskedme,Iwouldhavedenieditwithutterconviction.Andyethereitisinwriting.WhydidIforgetthatsocompletely?

AndwhydidIabandontheplanofmyownaccord?Seventeendays—that’snotsuchashorttimeifyou’reactuallyreallyhomesick.DidIsensewithoutwordsevenacrossthegreatdistancethatIwouldn’tbewelcomewithmyfather?Idon’tknowandwillneverfindout.Myfatherdiedintheyear2000.Whydowesooftenneglecttoasktheimportantquestionsbeforeit’stoolate?

AndyetIcannotreallybeangrywithmyfather.HisChristmaslettertome,whichhehadalreadywrittenattheendofNovember1972sothatitwouldarriveintime,beginswiththefollowingsentences:

DearJuliane!IwishyouallthebestthisChristmasandalsomuch,much

happinessforthenewyearof1973.SincelastChristmas,thistimeofyearhastakenonaparticularfaceforus.Foryouitwillalwaysbetheholidayonwhichyourlifewasgiventoyouanew.Formeitisfromnowonasadholiday,whichisfollowedbyastillsaddertime,thatis,theperioduptotherealdateofMommy’sdeath,whichistobeestimatedaroundthesixthorseventhofJanuary.

TheharshletterinwhichheforbidsmetocometoPanguanahewrotetomyauntonDecember30,1972,justaftertheanniversaryofthecrash.HehadjusthadthefirstChristmaswithoutmymother,andIdon’tdaretoimaginewhatmighthavebeengoingoninsidehim.

“Well,vecina,”Morosays,breakingthesilenceandjoltingmeoutofmythoughts,“aren’tyoutiredatall?”

“Iam,”Isay,“it’sbeenalongday.I’mjustsohappytobehereagain.”“Andwe’reevenhappier!WelcomebacktoPanguana!”Withflashlightswefindourwaytotheshowercabintobrushourteeth

andthenheadtoourbeds.They’rehard,butthatdoesn’tbotherus.IalreadyknowthatI’mgoingtosleepdeeply.

Followinginmyparents’footsteps:atfourteenyearsold,I’mcatchingabutterflybytheYuyapichisRiver,1969.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

16MiraclesStillHappen

Acomic-stripversionofmyordealwaspublishedinaPeruviannewspaper.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

AfewdayslaterthetimehascometogotoPuertoIncaandsettlethematterofthedeedregistrationsinthecityhallthere.EarlyinthemorningMoroandhishelperChanobringusinthecanoatothefordtospareusastretchoftheway.

Tomyjoy,largebirdsflutterupfromtheriverbank.It’shoatzins,awholecolony.

AttheMódenafarmwemeetDonElvio,Moro’suncle,whogivesusawarmwelcomeandishappytoferryusacrosstothevillageofYuyapichisinhisboat.TherewesoonfindacarthattakesustothevillageofSúngaro,ontheriverofthesamename.Andthenwewillseewhatcomesnext.

OnceI’veadjustedtothisjunglelife,itsrulesandcustoms,Ienjoyittothefullest.Onewayoranotheryoualwaysreachyourdestination,eventhoughthere’snopublictransportationsystemwithanexactdepartureschedule.Therearealwaysdriversshuttlingbetweenthedifferentfar-flungjunglevillages.Usually,youcanfindaliftinthisway,andifyou’reunlucky,youhavetowaitafewhours.That’sjusthowitis,noreasontogetworkedup.Still,foraEuropean,ittakesgettingusedto.Butthesooneryouresignyourselftothisrhythm,thebetter.Forthere’snousegrumblingandcomplaining—allthataccomplishesistospoilyourmood.

TheroadtoSúngaroisn’tclayey,butinsteadit’slitteredwithfist-sizedpebbles.Therearepotholestoo,ofcourse,andourdriverapparentlymakesapointofracingasfastaspossibleoverthisrumblingroad,whichismorereminiscentofamarblerunforgiganticchildrenthanastreet.Thisisachallengeforthevehicle’ssuspension,butalsoforourbacksandbottoms.Whenwearriveinthesmallvillage,we’reallalittlebitdazedandratherjolted.Fromhereit’sonlyanotherhalfhourtoPuertoInca.Astationwagon,whichbyEuropeanstandardsisalreadyfullyoccupied,letsusgetinaswell.Everyonejustpushestogether.MyhusbandandIsqueezeintothepassengerseat,andsothedrivermanagestopackintoanormalpassengercarwithafour-personcapacitytwicethatnumberofpassengers.Aparticularlyintrepidtravelerevensitsintheopentrunk,truetothemotto:“Betterabadridethanagoodwalk.”

WheneverwearriveatthebankoftheRíoPachiteaandIseePuertoIncaontheothersideoftheriver,IrememberthemanytimesIstoppedherewithmymother.Butmymainconnectionwiththissmallcity,justovertenmilesfromthecrashsite,isthestoryofmyaccident.ForeventhoughI’mknownalloverPeruas“Juliana,thesurvivoroftheLANSAcrash,”hereI’malocalcelebrity.Eventheferrymenwhoarestandingaroundontheriverbankwaitingforcustomersrecognizemeimmediately.Theoldmanwho“getsto”ferryusacrossbeamsacrosshiswholetoothlessface.

It’snoonnow,andwhenweclimbtheconcretestepsontheoppositebanktotheriversideroad,thesunburnsdownmercilesslyonourheads.Thoughitisn’ttimeforlunchbreakyetattherealestatedepartment,theresponsibleofficial“isn’thereatthemoment.”Willhebebacklater?Thesecretaryisn’treallysure.Wecangiveitanothershotaftertwoo’clock.Sowetryourluckatthecityhall.

Andhere—I’mconvincedthatthere’snosuchthingascoincidences—weactuallymeetanoldacquaintance.DonMarcio,whobroughtmefromthejungletoTournavistabackthen,issuddenlystandinginfrontofme,agedasweallare.Hisfeaturesaremorestrikingthanbefore.Hebeamswhenheseesme.Andforme,asalways,it’saverytouchingencounter.He’sdoingwell,theoldwoodsman.Hehasbecomemoresedentary;afterall,heturnedseventy-threethisyear.

“Thosedays—thoseweresometimes,”hesays.“Howmuchweexperienced.”AndthenheasksmewhetherIstillhaveacopyof“my”movie.Hewouldliketoshowittohisgrandchildren.

Yes,theLANSAcrashandtheensuingsearchoperationweredefinitelyahighlightinthehistoryofthesmallcity.AnotherfollowedwhentheItaliandirectorGiuseppeScotesemadeamovieofthestory,partiallyshotonlocation.

TherewerescenesinthePucallpaairport,Yarinacocha,LaCabañaandPuertoInca.MypartwasplayedbytheyoungEnglishstarletSusanPenhaligon.Somesayshelooksexactlylikeme—somuchsothatmanypeoplethoughtIwasplayingmyself.Othersassertthatshedoesn’thavetheslightestresemblancetome.Thatgoestoshowhowopinionscandiffer.Therolesofmyparentswerealsocastwithactors.Otherwise,thedirectorworkedalotwithnonprofessionals.Soithappenedthatmanypeopleplayedthemselves.DonMarcioparticipatedtooandtookontheroleofmyrescuerinthemovie.Tothisdayfunnystoriesofthefilmingcirculateinthesmalljunglecity.PeoplestillfindespeciallycomicalabriefappearancebyPampaHualo,agenuinelocaloriginalnicknamedafterarainy-seasonfrog.

ThedirectorScotesealsovisitedmyfatherinPanguanaandapparentlyconsideredshootingtherelevantscenesintheoriginallocation.Butthenhedecidedagainstit,andourhutswerere-createdonthegroundsofthehotelLaCabañainYarinacocha—inmyfather’sview,quitepoorly.

Likeeveryoneelse,Ifirstgottoseethefilmin1974,whenitwasshowinginGermany.TheownerofamovietheaterinKielinvitedmeandmy

aunttothepremiereandaskedmewhetherhecouldintroducemetotheaudienceafterward.Ihappilyacceptedtheinvitation,butpreferredtocomeincognitoandwasverynervous.Inourlovelyboxseat,Ifoundmyselftremblingandfreezingduringthescreening.Aboveall,thedepictionofthecrashreallyupsetme,andthisisalsooneofthebestscenesinthemovie.

Icanstillrememberwellayoungcoupletalkingbehindme.Shesaidtohim:“Howfar-fetched!That’simpossible!”Ialmostwantedtoturnaroundandsay:“Actually,itispossible!Itreallyhappenedtome!”But,ofcourse,Iremainedsilent.

Butunfortunately,therewerealsoanumberofscenesthatwererathercorny.Atonepointthegirlwho’ssupposedtobemeiscoweringonaslope,utterlyexhausted.It’snighttime.Andsuddenlyamothermonkeycomesalongwithherchild,pursuedbyajaguar.Themotherquicklythrowsherlittleoneintothegirl’sarms.Thensheisdraggedawaybythefelinepredator.Andnow,ofcourse,thegirlandthelittlemonkeyclingtoeachotherandgiveeachothercomfort.Whenthelittlemonkeygoesonhiswayinthemorning,shecriesdesperatelyafterhim:“Don’tgoaway!Don’tleavemealone!”

WhatcanIsay?Thefilmwasn’tamasterpiece.Eventhoughtheactresswhoplayedmypartwasreallydedicatedandsparednoeffort,flungherselfintothemudandshowedintenseengagementinmanyscenes—forlongstretches,themovieissimplyboring.Thedirectorsoughttoremainauthentic,themanynonprofessionalactorsdidtheirbest,butonthewholethemoviewasn’treallyconvincing.

Still,hereinGermany,underthesensationalistictitleAYoungGirlFightsHerWayThroughtheGreenHell,themoviewasintheatersfortwelveweeks,andinPeruandotherSouthAmericancountries,asPerdidaenelInfiernoVerde,stilllonger.IntheUnitedStates,too,itcameout,butunderthetitleMiraclesStillHappen;incontrasttotheGermanandSouthAmericantitles,whichstressedthecomparisonofthejungletohell,thissuggestedatriumphantsurvivaltale.Nonetheless,Iwasultimatelyinformedthatthefilmonlyincurredlosses,andsoIdidn’tgetapennyfromtheworldwideearnings.Themoviewasalsoshownontelevisionunderthestrangesttitles.Unfortunately,Ineverreceivedanofficialcopyofthemovie.Meanwhile,thedirectorhasdied,andtheproductioncompanywasdissolvedalongtimeago.

WhatreallyangeredmyfatherwasthefactthatSusanPenhaligonalsomadefilmsinwhichshehadnudescenes.InmanynewspaperspicturesofmeinjeansandaT-shirtthenappearednexttoanudepictureofher.Thatdidn’tbothermepersonally.Butmanypeopleaskedmewhetherthatwasme,andwhetherI

wasreallymakingnudefilmsnow.Accordingtoafalsenewspaperitem,incidentally,SusanPenhaligon

supposedlydiedinthe1990sinanaccidentintheUnitedStates.That’sanotherniceillustrationofhowinaccuratemediareportsoftentakeonalifeoftheirown.Foreventhoughit’snottrue,andtheactressenjoysgoodhealthtothisday,thestubbornrumorpersists.IthaseventurnedintothestorythatIwastheonewhohadanaccidentatthattime.Inthatcase,too,manypeoplecouldn’tdistinguishbetweenrealityandfiction,andthoughtIplayedmyself.Andsoamusingsituationsrepeatedlyensued.

Once,IwasdrivingnorthfromLimawithAlwinRahmel,andonthewaywegavealifttoanaturalscientistwhosecarhadstalled.Aschancewouldhaveit,heknewmymother.Isatinthebackofthecar,andAlwincarriedontheconversation.Themansaid:“Thatwassuchatragedy,whenMariaKoepckelostherlife.Butwhatmakesmeespeciallysadisthatherdaughter,whosomiraculouslysurvivedthecrash,laterhadanaccidentintheUnitedStates!”

ThenAlwin,whohasamischievoussenseofhumor,asked:“YoumeanJuliane?Wouldyouliketospeaktoher?”

Thescientistgavehimadismayedsidelongglance.“Yes,”Alwininsisted,“you’rereallyinlucktoday!Ifyouwouldliketo,

youcanspeaktoJuliane.Forshe’ssittingrightbehindyou.”ThemanwasthunderstruckandcouldscarcelybelievethatIwasreally

stillaliveandactuallysittingwithhiminacar.Ioftenhadsuchencounters.Once,Ievenhadtoshowmypassport,

becausethepeopleImetatareceptionsimplywouldnotbelievethatI’mreallyJulianeKoepcke.JustrecentlyarelativeofMoro’saskedmetogiveheracurrentphotoofmyselftoconvinceherteacherthatI’mverymuchalive.Asistypicallythecasewithrumors,thewildestversionsofmysupposedaccidentintheUnitedStatesultimatelywentaround.Inone,Ihadacaraccident;inanother,itwasabike.Andit’sincrediblehowstubbornlypeopleclingtothesestories.EvenwhenI’mstandinginfrontofthem,theysometimesbelievethemediareportsmorethantheevidenceoftheireyes.

EventhepeopleinPuertoIncacanhardlybelievethatafterseveralyearsI’veonceagainfoundmywaytothem.EventhoughIdon’tfindanyoneinthecityhalltohelpmeinthematterofPanguana,allthesecretariesandemployeesconverge,andeverysingleonewantstohaveaphotographtakenwithme.Meanwhile,lunchhourhascome,andwearehappytotakeatipfromayoungwomanwhosendsustohermother’srestaurant.

I’mnotatallsurprisedthatIactuallyknowthiswomanfromearlierdays—indeed,fromthetimebeforemyaccident.Forsheonceranahotel,thenameofwhichwaseasyformetoremember.ItwascalledLaLámparadeAladino,Aladdin’smagiclamp,afterthewoman’shusband,whowasnamedAladino.Heremymotheroftenstopped,andafewtimesIhadaccompaniedher.Therestaurantownerbeamsfromeartoear;and,ofcourse,wenotonlyreceiveanexcellentlunch,butalsoaresoonengagedinananimatedconversation.

Wetalk—howcoulditbeotherwise—aboutthosedays.Thetimemymotherspentthenighthereandsupposedlyhadasnakeinherluggage—whichItaketobeanotherrumor,butIdon’targuewiththewoman.Naturally,wesooncometothesubjectofthatChristmasDay,whenduringaterriblestormtheairplanecircledovertheforestandfinallydisappeared.OnceagainIlistentohowstrangerstellmystoryasifitweretheirown.

Ican’thelpthinkingofWernerHerzog’sremark:“Yourstorynolongerbelongstoyoualone.Itbelongstothepublic.”WhetherIlikeitornot—heisundoubtedlyright.

Backthen,Sternacquirednotonlythefilmrights,butalsothebookrightstomystory.Fortunately,alltheformalitieswerehandledbymyaunt,whowasanexpertandwhomIcompletelytrusted.Abookwasactuallywrittentoo.However,whenIgottoreadthemanuscript,Iwasn’tparticularlyhappywithit.Soitdidn’tbothermeatallwhenIlearnedthatnopublishercouldbefoundwhowantedtobringoutthebook.AtthattimeIalreadyhadafeelingthatthisissomethingyoushouldactuallydoyourself,orincollaborationwithsomeoneyoutrust.

Meanwhile,completestrangershavejoinedusatourtable,talkingtomeasifIwereanoldfriend.Forpeoplehere,wherethesearchoperationmadesomanyfeelingsrunhigh,it’sstillsomethinglikeadivinesignthatIalonesimplyfellfromtheskyandremainedinonepiece.

“Youknow,”saysawoman,onlyalittleolderthanI,“thatyouhaveahomehereinPuertoInca.”

Ithankher.AndthinkofourhomeinMunichandhowlongittookbeforeIfoundatruehomeofmyownaftermyforceddepartureoutofPeru.

MyveryfirsthomewastheHumboldtHouse,andwhenthatwasgone,Panguana.Isn’titstrangethatafewIndianhutswithoutwallscouldbeahome?ThenIrealizethatit’snotamatteroftheplace:Forme,homewaswheremyparentswere.Butthen,mymotherwassuddenlydead,andmyfather,atleastfor

thetimebeing,didn’twantmearoundandfoundathousandreasonstokeepmeaway.

InsteadofPanguana,Iwenttovisitmyothergrandmotherduringthatsummerbreakin1973,mymother’smother,inSibichhausenonLakeStarnberg.AndhereIgraduallygottoknowmymother’sextendedfamily.Formeasanonlychild,thatwassomethingveryspecial.

Mygrandmotherwasalovable,cheerfulandextremelygregariousperson.Shelikedhavingpeoplearound,andaslongasherhusband,areputablegynecologist,wasalive,herhousewasthecenterofmanysocialgatherings.Inheroldageitbroughtherimmensejoyinsummerwhenasmanyrelativesandfriendsaspossiblefilledthehousewithlife.Shehadawirehaireddachshund,Anka,whounfortunatelydiedashorttimeafterImether.ButmyauntHilde,mymother’ssister,whowasanactressinDüsseldorf,alsohadadog,namedAmor,withwhomIlovedtoplay.

ThatwasalsosomethingImissedinGermany,thefactthatIgotoutdoorssorarely.InPeru,especiallyinthejungle,Ihadbeenoutsideconstantly.Ourhousesdidn’tevenhavewalls.Everythinghappenedundertheopensky;andhereinGermany,Iwasalwayssittingindoors.SinceIhadsomuchtodoforschool,Ididn’thavemanyhobbieseither.Ididn’tplayasportorgetmuchexercise.That’swhyIenjoyedtakingAmorforawalktooneoftheboglakesorhikingthroughgloriousgorgestoLakeStarnberg,collectingmushroomsorblueberries,orwatchingalittleatthehorsepasturejustbehindthehouse.Once,wefoundespeciallybeautifulporcinimushrooms,andmygrandmotherwentcompletelysilent.Thateveningshebroughtmeaframedpicture.Itwasaprettywatercolorofaporcinimushroom.

“Here,”shesaid,“I’mgivingyouthisasagift.Yourmothermadeit,backbeforeshefollowedyourfathertoPeru.Wewerecollectingmushrooms,justlikeyouweretoday.AndintheeveningMariasaid:‘Mommy,thisonehereyoucan’tcutup.FirstIhavetodrawit!’”

Mygrandmotherhadtearsinhereyesandturnedawayquickly.Ilookedatthestudy.Itreallyhadturnedoutparticularlywell.Afewdaysaftermyarrival,wehadvisitedthegrave.Butonlynow,inthefaceofthedrawing,didIgrasphowmuchmygrandmother,too,sufferedfrommymother’sdeath.

“Yourgrandfatherwasn’tthrilledatallaboutlettinghergoallbyherselfonthatlongjourney.ButMariasaid:‘I’llfollowthismananywhere.Ifnecessary,totheendoftheworld.’”

Mygrandmotherwassilent.Shewasfarawayinherthoughts—Icouldfeelthat.

“Totheendoftheworld,”sherepeatedsoftly.Thenshepulledherselftogether.Shelookedatme,smiling.

“Actually,Iwouldhavelikedforyoutoliveherewithme,”shewenton.“ButIrecognizedthatit’seasierforyouinKiel.It’salongwayfromheretothenearestschool.”

ThenmyauntHildeenteredtheroomandaskedcheerfullywhetherwedidn’twanttocookamushroomdishtogetherandinviteGrandmother’sfriendfromnextdoortoeatwithus.Andthatbrokethespellofthatmoment.

Itwouldn’tbethelasttimethatIvisitedSibichhausen.IlikedspendingtimewithmygrandmotherandenjoyedthegloriousweeksinthefoothillsoftheAlps.Atbirthdaycelebrationsorotheroccasions,Inowmetmyelevencousinstoo.Ialsotookpleasureinvisitingthefamilyofmyfather’suncle,wholivedinHanoverandlaterinLahr,Germany.

Ifounditwonderfultohavesomanyrelatives,andtheyallwarmlyacceptedmeintothefamily.Thereweresomanynewthingsformetoexperienceanddiscover,andIpostponedmyplanstoseePanguanaagain.

Thustimepassed.DuringthedayIstudieddiligentlyformyAbitur,andnowandthendidsomethingwithmynewschoolmates.AndatnightIdreamedIwashurtlingwithinsanespeed,asifequippedwithanengine,inadarkspace,alwaysalongthewall.OrIdreamedofadeep,roaringsound,andIknowthatit’stheturbinesandwe’replummetingintotheabyss.ForalongtimethesedreamswereapartofmelikethescarsIretainedfromthecrash.OftenI’mplaguedbyheadaches,butIacceptthis.WhatdoIhavetocomplainabout?Alltheothersaredead,soshouldn’tIbeabletobearalittlebitofheadpain?Formybirthdaymyfathersentmepreservedrainforestbutterflies.Anothertimehesentmeacamera,aMinolta,whichIwasextremelyhappyabout.Wewrotetoeachother,andbothofusendedmostofourletterswiththerequest:Writebacksoon!

ThetwoyearsuptomyAbiturwentfast.Ipasseditwithagoodgrade.Myfathercouldbeproudofme.Andasarewardhecamehimself.TwoyearsandsixdaysaftermydeparturefromPeru,Isawmyfatheragain….

It’stimetotryourluckagainwiththeauthorities.Afteralong-windedgood-bye,wesmileonelasttimeatthevariouscamerasandareallowedtomoveon.

Andloandbehold,wegetlucky.We’reabletotakecareofallour

affairs.Weevenfindinhisgeneralstoretheneighborwholetshiscattlegrazeononeofthenewproperties.HeandMorosettlethematter,andthenwecanheadhome.

Thateveningwedon’tmakeitbacktothevillageofYuyapichisbeforedark.Underaskythatlooksasifallyouhavetodoisreachoutyourhandtograspthestars,wecrosstheRíoPachitea.Ontheotherside,belowtheMódenafarm,thefaithfulChanowaitsforus.Isittheexhaustionorthesuccessfulday?Isitthemanymemoriesorthewarmthofthekindpeople?OnthiseveningIfeelalmostweightlessasIwalkbehindMoroacrossthepasture.ThemanytimesIwalkedalongthispathinthepastmergewiththepresent,withthefuture.ForIknowIwillcontinuetoreturntoPanguanacountlesstimes.EverystepItakeseemstomelikeoneofthoselongstepsthatarerequiredtofulfillmyparents’legacy.ButIalsoknowthat,justasIalwayscomeback,nomatterwhathappens,justasattheendofthejourneythelupunatreeiswaitingforusandunderitthehutsofPanguana,soIwillsucceedinprotectingthisplace,onceandforall,andpreservingitforsucceedinggenerations.

Iwonderhowmyfathermighthavefeltwhenhewalkedalongthispathforthelasttimebackthen.Washerelievedtofinallyleavethisplace,wherehehadbeenindescribablyhappyandlaterunspeakablylonelyandisolatedinhisgrief?Ordidhethinkhewouldcomebacksoon,perceivingthepartingasonlytemporary,fartoopreoccupiedwiththepreparationsforthelongjourney?Idon’tknow.AndIthink,howstrangeitis,andalsosad,thataftermystayhereinPanguanadirectlyaftermyaccident,Iwasneveragainherewithmyfather.

17AReunionandaReturn

Rainforestjewel:alargeMorphobutterfly,2008.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

OnApril12,1974,IpickedupmyfatherattheairportinHamburg-Fuhlsbüttel.Weweren’talone,andmaybethat’swhythereunionwentratheruneventfully.Myauntwasthere,ofcourse,andmyfather’sfriendswhohadreceivedmetwoyearsagoinFrankfurt.

Unfortunately,Ihavenoparticularlydetailedmemoriesofthisreunion.IrecallonlythatIhadwantedhimtobringmeafreshavocadoandamango.Myfathercamewithustomygrandmother’shomeinKielandspentoneortwonightswithus.ThenhewenttoHamburg,wherehe,inaccordancewiththeagreementhehadmadewhenhereceivedhisprofessorship,assumedanacademicpost.Thereheinitiallylivedintheguestroomoftheinstitute,untilbeforelongheboughtasmallrowhouseontheoutskirtsofHamburg.

AtfirsthesaidthathispresenceinGermanywasonlytemporary,andhewoulddefinitelyreturntoPanguana.LaterIlearnedfromcolleaguesatthenaturalhistorymuseuminLimathathehadnotsaidgood-byetoanyonethere.Onedayhewassimplygone.Beforeanyonereallyknewwhatwasgoingon,hispostattheuniversitywasoccupiedbyayoungercolleague.TodayIknowthatmyfatherwasatthattimealreadyworkingonthetransformationofPanguanaintoanaturereserve,andevenhadapromisingstatementfromtheministryofagriculture.Intheearly1970s,Panguanawasalreadysupposedtobeexpandedaboutfoursquaremiles.Butthen,thewholematterstagnated.Reportswerewrittenanddisappearedintoafile,whichgraduallygrewthicker.FromGermany,myfathercouldnotreallypressaheadwiththematter,andsoitallcametonothing.

WhymyfatherneverreturnedtoPeru—Idon’tknow.IsuspectthatonceinGermany,henolongerhadthestrengthforit.Peruwasthecountrywherehehadbeenhappywithmymother.Withoutheritwasn’tthesameanymore.Andeverythingthereremindedhimofher.InaletterfromPanguanaduringmyfirstyearinGermany,hehadwritten:…andin1975IwouldtakeatriptoPeru,mainlytovisitPanguana.Icannotmakeanypromisesyetatthispoint,ofcourse,butIcouldimaginethatitwouldbeniceifwecameheretogetherandalsoleftagaintogether.

Butthatnevercameupagainlater,andIdidn’tpresshimaboutiteither.However,adifferentjourneywascomingup,arealtripacrossthe

globe.FromAugust12to19,1974,theSixteenthInternationalOrnithologicalCongresswasbeingheldinCanberra,Australia.Anticipationfortheeventhadalreadybeenbuildingyearsbefore.Forthislong-standingconference,soimportantforornithologists,hasexistedsince1884andtakesplaceonceeveryfouryears(however,itwasirregularinthebeginningandthereweremissed

meetingsduringtheSecondWorldWaranditsimmediateaftermath,whichiswhythiswasonlythesixteenth).TodayIsuspectthatprobablyitwasoriginallymymotherwhowasplanningtoattendit.(Afterall,shewastheornithologistinthefamily.)ButafterherdeathitsomehowwentwithoutsayingthatmyfatherwouldtraveltoAustralia—andIwouldaccompanyhim.MyAbituroveranddonewith,fullofexcitementandwithaconsiderableamountofwanderlustinmyheart,IsetoffonAugust5,1974,withmyfather.WeflewviaFrankfurt,BombayandSingaporetoSydney.FromtherewewentontoCanberra—ofcourse,notwithoutfirsttakingafewexcursionstothemarinesandybeachandtheenvironsofSydney.Aboveall,wevisited,asinallplaceswetraveledto,thezoologicalandbotanicalgardens.

Forme,Canberrawasanimpressiveexperience—andnotonlybecauseofthecongress,whereIenthusiasticallyattendedeventsandmetmanyforeigncolleaguesofmymother’s,butalsobecauseoftheexciting,architecturallyinterestingcityandtheglorioussurroundings.MyfathergaveatalkattheconferenceaboutthebirdcallsofthePeruvianrainforest.Inotherways,too,thiswholetripwasnotavacationforhim,butratherservedapreciseplanforhisresearchwork.ForthatpurposewelatercontinuednorthwardalongtheEastCoast,spendingfivedays,forexample,ontheforestedanduninhabitedHinchinbrookIsland,locatedeastofthetownofCardwell,wherewecampedandrecordedbirdcalls.Myfatherhadinhisluggagewhatwasthenastate-of-the-arttaperecorder—thoughtodayitis,ofcourse,extremelyoutdatedandcumbersome—theNagraIII,alongwithareflector.TheThyssenFoundationprovideditforhim,andheandmymotherhadusedittocompiletheirbirdcallarchiveinPeru.Inmyfather’sview,onlyinthisway,recordedwiththesamedevice,couldtherecordingsreallybecompared.Forthatispreciselywhatheintendedtodo:WeweresystematicallyseekingoutrainforestsinnortheasternAustralia,NewGuineaandonvariousislandsofHawaiithathadcertainsimilaritieswiththatofPanguana,inordertofindorruleoutparallelsintheworldofbirdcalls.Myfather,whohadalwayskepthiseyeonthebigpicture,didnotwanttoruntheriskofbecominglimitedasascientistexclusivelytoPanguanaandtheformofrainforestfoundthere.

HinchinbrookIslandhasremainedmemorabletome,forthekindgentlemanfromCardwellwhoarrangedoursuppliesandprovisionsforthestayontheislandforgotthesilverware.Sowecarvedprimitivespoonswithourpocketknivesoutofthehusksofthenumerouscoconutslyingaround.Myfatherhadalwaysbeenamasteratimprovising.Besidesthat,ontheveryfirstdayIsatdownonmyglassesandbrokealens.Totopitalloff,itwaspouringrain,our

tentwasn’tleakproof,andthemosquitoeslovedus.WespentamonthaltogetherinAustralia,traveledontoNewGuinea,

tirelesslycollectedbirdcallsandotherdatathereforfourweeks,untilwecontinuedviatheFijiIslandstoHawaii.Becausewecrossedtheinternationaldateline,weexperiencedthedayofthisjourneytwice.

Here,onthegorgeousislandofKauai,Ispentmytwentiethbirthday.Myfathersurprisedmewithalovinglyarrangedgifttable,decoratedwithflowersandcandles.HemusthavecreptoutofoursharedroomatnightwhenIwasalreadyasleeptogetallthis.Itwasareallyspecialbirthday,whichIwillneverforget.Wetookataxiaroundtheislandtogainanoverview,andthenhikedthroughasubtropicalforestarea.Itwaswonderfultobetravelingtogether.Wehadthesameinterests,andmaybemyfatherfeltduringthoseweeksalittlebitthewayheusedto,whenhehadbeentravelingwithmymother.

Thistimespentsointensivelytogetherbroughtusclosetoeachotheragain.Onatripitbecomesclearwhetherpeopledowelltogetherornot,andwegotalongsplendidly.

WhenwelandedinFrankfurtinmid-October,Iwasonceagainonthebrinkofanewstageinmylife:myuniversitystudies.EventhoughIhadstillbeenvacillatingthepreviousyearastowhetherIshouldn’tperhapsstudyliteratureandartinsteadofbiology,Ihaddecidedtoremainwithwhathadbeenmydesirefromanearlyage:tobecomeazoologistlikemyparents.Myfatherwasreallyhappyaboutthat.HehopedthatIwouldcontinuehisworkandthatofmymother.Andindeed,therewasnothingIlongedformorethantofinallyreturntoPanguana.Myloveforalllivingthings,mycuriosityandmyastonishmentinthefaceoftheendlessdiversityofnature—Ihadfeltthisagaindistinctlyduringourtrip—werestilljustasstrongastheywerewhenIwasachildandhadexploredthemysteriesoftheforestwithmyparents.IhadadjustedwelltolifeinGermany;however,whenIbeganmystudies,itwasaforegoneconclusionformethatIwouldonedayreturntoPeruandlivethere.

Myfirstopportunitytodosowasin1977,whenIhadtogetstartedonmythesiswork.Ineededatopic,somethingthathadnotyetbeenstudied.WhatcouldhaveservedthispurposebetterthanoneIcouldworkoninPanguana?

Ofcourse,Ispokeaboutitwithmyfather.Myinterestpleasedhim.TheexplorationoflifeinPanguanaremainedveryclosetohisheart.Mymotherandhehadsetoffinthosedayswiththeplanofdevelopingasystematicecologicalsurveyandascompleteaninventoryofspeciesaspossible.Somanyyearslater

thathadbeenaccomplishedonlypartially,sodiverseisthelifeinthisareaofrainforest.Amongotherthings,hementionedthattherehadnotyetbeenascientificstudyofthecamouflagecoloringofthecarrion-anddung-feedingbutterflies,thoughthereweremostlikelypublicationsonthewarning-coloredmoth.AndIthought:Yes,thiscouldbesomethingforme.MyfatherandotherscientistshadalreadycollectedalotofbutterfliesinPanguana,soIwouldn’thavetostartfromscratch.Andtheseinsectsarealsorelativelyeasytoobserveandattract,sothatIcouldmanagethetopicwithinthescopeofmythesiswork.Andsointhisway,anotherpartofthefaunaatourstationwasexploredandilluminated.

FormeitwasthefirstandverywelcomeopportunitytofinallyreturntoPanguana.Ididn’ttravelalone,butsetoffinearlyAugust1977withfourotherstudents.Wewereamotleycrew:Accompanyingmewereathesisstudentofmyfather’swithherhusband,whowerebothinterestedinreptilesandamphibians.Oneofmyfather’sdoctoralstudentsalsocamewithus,Andreas,whotodayworksattheStuttgartnaturalhistorymuseumasaherpetologist,aspecialistinamphibiansandreptiles.Hewrotehisdissertationonthebiologicalcommunityoffrogsinaforestpondandremainedthereforaboutayear.Andfinallywewereaccompaniedbyanotherstudent,whowantedtogettoknowthelifeintheAmazonRainForestandalsotokeepAndreascompany.

WhenwearrivedinLima,therewasonceagainacrowdofjournalistswaitingforme.Icouldhardlybelieveit.Afterall,I’dbegoneforoverfiveyearsandhadbeenhopingIwaslongforgotteninPeru.Iconstantlyreceivedrequestsforinterviews,andthatreallygotonmynerves.ForthatreasonIwasgladwhenmycompanionsandIsetofftowardthejungle,whereIcouldpursuemyworkinpeace.

HowhappyIwastoseePanguanaagain.AtthattimewecouldstillstayintheoldmainhousethatIhadlivedinwithmyparents,which,unfortunately,nolongerexiststoday.Itwassurroundedbyaworkhutandakitchenhut,andsomewhatfartherawaytherewasanotherguesthouse.Thoughthishousedidn’thaveanywalls,itdirectlyabuttedthejungleononeside,andhere,whereyouwerereallywellshelteredfromwindandweather,wespentthenight—onthefloor,ofcourse.Therewasenoughspaceforallofus.AtthattimeMoroandhisfamilywerestilllivingdownriverontheothersideoftheYuyapichisonhisfarm,LaPonderosa,namedaftertheranchinthetelevisionseriesBonanza.OnlylaterdidhebuildthehouseonthegroundsofPanguanadirectlyoppositethepresent-dayguesthouses.

IspentthreemonthsaltogetherinPeru,oneofthoseinPanguana.There

Icaughtandphotographednumerousbutterflies,whichIattractedwithvarioustypesofbait.Therewereatthattimemanywildratsandmicenearthehousesandattheedgeoftheforest,aboveallspinyrats.Morohelpedmecatchthem,andwhenanimalswereslaughtered,Igotothermeattoo.Theseoftenfist-sizedpiecesIputouttoattractthebutterflies.Thebaitwasmostattractivetothemwhenitbegantorot,aboveallforthemagnificentmorphosandthemysterious,palm-sizedowlbutterflies,withtheirbeautifuleyespotsontheundersideoftheirwings.Manyspeciesalsolikedfermentingfruitsandfruitjuicesordung.ThemostbeautifulspeciesIsawandcaughtinourtoilet,arealouthouse.ThereIwasunfortunatelystunginthethighonenightbyoneofthegiantants,aone-and-a-half-inchisula,orbulletant.Astinglikethatisextremelypainful,andyoufeelthepuncturesiteforseveraldays.That’swhythespeciesisalsoknownas“24horas”(“24hours”)forthat’showlongyouwilldefinitelysuffer.

Atfirstmymeatbaitwouldmysteriouslydisappear,andIfoundoutthatitwasbeingeatenbyturtles,armadillosandotheranimals.Rottingmeatisagenuinedelicacyforturtles.WhatcouldIdoaboutthat?Iwrappedthepiecesofmeatinwiremeshandboundthemtoatreeorpost.Thoughthisputastoptothefeastoftheturtles,Icouldbetterobserve“my”butterflies.OntheriverbankIfoundwholecloudsofglorious,richlycoloredyellow,whiteandorangebutterflies,sittingontapirdungandurineorontheexcretionsofspectacledcaimans—alwaysagorgeoussight.

Istillrememberwellhowmyfather’sthesisstudentandIwereassailedbymassesoftinyticksonedayintheforest.Wehadgrazedabushonwhichthesebeastsweresitting,andtheycompletelyinundatedus.Nothinghelped.Werushedhome,toreoffourclothesandremovedthetinylittlepestsfromeachotherwithtweezers,whichweplungedafterwardintoacandleflametoburnuptheticks.

Oncethethesisstudentandherhusbandcaughtaforestcrocodile,whichshewaseagertophotograph.Butshewasbotheredbyherhusband’shands,whichwereholdingontothecrocodileandshouldn’tbeinthepicture.Soherhusbandletgoofthesnoutandtailofthetwo-and-a-half-foot-longanimal,andwasholdingontoitonlybythelegs.Ofcourse,itbitdeepintohisarm.Luckily,thewounddidn’tbecomeinflamed.

AtthattimethereweremanysnakesaroundthehousesofPanguana,andoneoftheneighborswasoncebittenbyalance-headedviper.Thethesisstudentgavehimalargeamountofsnakeserumsothattherewasahugebump.Thatprobablywouldnotevenhavebeennecessary,butbettersafethansorry.Itwasimportant,however,tobecarefulwiththeserum,foritcouldleadto

anaphylacticshockifsomeoneisallergictoit—andthatcanbedeadlytoo.InthoseyearsYuyapichiswasnotyetarealvillage,butratheracluster

ofhutsonthehighbankoftheRíoPachitea,andduringtheweeknothingwasgoingonthereaftersundown.ButonSaturdays,therewasafiestawithdancingandeating,andwelikedtogothere.Itwasafuntime,whichpassedtooquickly,unfortunately.Wegirlsnaturallyattractedattentionasgringasandweresimplyidolizedbythemeninthevillage.WhenIwasinLima,IstayedwithmyfriendEdith’sparents.Theyhadasmall,one-storyannexinthegarden,inwhicharoomwithabathroomwasalwaysavailabletome.Thatwas,ofcourse,reallypleasant.InLima,IhadalsobeeninvitedtoaspecialeventduringthatvisittoPeru,aceremonyatRicardoPalmaUniversity.Theyhadnamedthebiologystudents’finalsemester“Promoción76BMariaKoepcke”aftermymother,andIwasinvitedthereasaguestofhonor,whichwas,ofcourse,onceagainalloverthepress.Iwasstillconstantlybeingaskedforinterviews,andmystayinPeruwasintentlyfollowedandcommentedoninthenewspaper.Aboveall,whenIpassedthroughPucallpaonmyjourneybetweenLimaandPanguana,mypastcaughtuptome.Theheadofthelocalradiostationhadbeenfriendlywithmyparents,andsoIcouldn’trefusetogivegreetingsandsuchrepeatedlyononeofhisprograms.

OnthoseoccasionsIlikedtovisitthekindmissionariesinYarinacochawholetmerecoverintheirhousesaftermyrescue.Ioncehadamemorableexperiencethere.

Iwasinvitedprivatelybyoneofthefamiliesoflinguiststotheirhouse.Itwasareallyniceevening,andIonceagainfeltreallysecurewiththesepeople.IwasstruckbythewayawomanIknewbysight,asIdidsomanyothersthere,askedmeagainandagain:“Areyoudoingwell,Juliane?Imean:reallywell?”

“Yes,”Isaid,nowstartingtogetabitirritated,“yes,I’mdoingwell!”Why,Iwondered,wasthiswomaninsistingonthisquestion?

Whenitwastimetogetgoing,shedrovemetomyhotel.Inpartingshepressedaletterintomyhand.

“Pleasedon’treadituntillater,whenyou’reinyourroom,”shesaid.“Anddon’tfeelobligatedtoanswer.”

Iwassurprised,ofcourse.Icouldn’timaginewhatthiswomanhadtowritetome.ButasI’dpromisedher,Ireadtheletterthatsameevening.

Shewasthemotherofoneoftheboyswhohadstooddirectlyinfrontofusinlineatcheck-infortheLANSAplaneonDecember24,1971,withwhomIhadjokedandlaughed.Likealltheothers,hehaddied.Shewrotethat

shehadlongwrestledwithherGodoverwhyIwasallowedtosurviveandnotherson.Thisquestionhadplungedher—who,likeeveryoneelseinthemissioncommunityinYarinacocha,haddevotedherlifetospreadingChristianity—intoadeepcrisis.Shehadstruggleduntilshehadfinallymadeherpeacewiththisfate.

ThatnightIcouldn’tsleepforalongtime.MypasthadcaughtuptomeafteralltheyearsinKiel.WhydidhehavetodieandnotI?Whydidmymotherhavetodie,andIwasallowedtolive?Atthenaturalhistorymuseum,aformercolleagueofmymother’s,whohadbeenclosefriendswithher,hadonlyrecentlysaidtomewithtearsinhereyes:“Whenweheardthenewsofthecrash,weallsaid:‘Ifanyonesurvives,itwillbethedoctora.Forsheknowsexactlyhowtohandleherselfinthejungle.’Ohwell.Andthenitwasthedaughter.”Iknowshedidn’tmeanitthatway,buthertearsandthatsoresigned-sounding“Ohwell”reawakenedinmewhatIhadfeltbackthenwithmyfather—thefeelingthattherehadbeensomesortofmistake.Thatthewrongonehaddied.Actually,mymothershouldhavesurvivedthedisaster.Orperhapsthatboy,instead.ButnotI,ofallpeople.

AtthattimeIwastwenty-threeyearsold.Thecrashhadbeensixyearsearlier.Iwasoverjoyedtohavereturned.Butforthefirsttime,IthoughtaboutwhethermyfathermighthavebeenrighttosendmetoGermany.ThereIhadgainedacertaindistancefromthedisaster.HereIwasremindedofitateveryturn.Still,Iwouldcomebackagainandagain,fortherestofmylife.DeepinmyheartIknewthateventhen.

BackinKiel,Isettoworkontheanalysisofmyinvestigations.Mythesisworkwasgreatfunforme,andIfinishedmystudiessuccessfully.TherewasnoquestionthatIwouldgoontopursueadoctorate—anothergoodopportunitytospendtimeinPanguana.ThoughIdidn’tknowyetwhatIwasgoingtoworkonthistime,therewasnobetterresearchfieldformethanPanguana.Despiteallthesadmemoriesassociatedwiththeplace,Iwasalwaysdrawnbacktoit.

Iwas,incidentally,nottheonlyonewhovisitedmyparents’researchstationonthebankoftheYuyapichisduringthoseyears.Myfatherrepeatedlysentthesisanddoctoralstudentstoourjunglestationwithtopicsthattheycouldworkonthere.Asinearlierdaysotherscientiststraveledtherewithmyfather’sconsentaswelltocompletestudiesalreadyunderwayortobeginnewones.Morowastheonewhoattendedtothevisitorson-site,whennecessary.ThusmyfathercontinuedtocontrolthefateofthisspotwhilehefoundhisfeetinHamburgand,toeveryone’sastonishment,neverleft.Still,hecontinued,of

course,totakenumerousexcursions.Mostofthetime,IwouldthenlookafterhissmallHamburgrowhouse.ButheneverwenttoPeruagain.

I,however,wasalreadylookingforwardtomynextchancetogothere.JustayearafterIfinishedmythesis,withthetitle“Species-SpecificPatternsofCamouflageColoringinCarrion-andDung-EatingButterfliesofthePeruvianTropicalRainForest,”Itraveledforfourmonthswithafewfriendsthroughthecountryofmybirth,andhadafewadventures.AtripovertheAndesturnedouttobeparticularlyeventful.Inasecludedareaanoff-roadtruckcametowardus.Oneofthepassengershadahandkerchieftiedaroundhishead.Westopped,andthenIsawthattheclothwasblood-soaked.TheytoldusthattheywereGermansandhadbeenattackedthatnight.Ithadhappenednearoneofthecopper,silverorbismuthandwolframmines,whensomeoneknockedonthecarinthemiddleofthenight.Atfirstthetravelersdidn’twanttoopenthedoors,ofcourse,andthenmachine-gunfirebeganpoundingthecar.Abullethitthemanandwentstraightthroughhisneckwithouttearingaveinorhisthroat,butthebloodwaspouringout,nonetheless.Despitehisinjury,themanimmediatelyflunghimselfatthewheelanddroveawayundercontinuedfire.

Whotheattackershadbeen,wedidn’tknowatthetime.OnlyaftertheterroristmovementaroundAbimaelGuzmánReynoso,calledthe“SenderoLuminoso”—the“ShiningPath”—spreadmorewidelyandturnedPeruforyearsintoacountrytowhichonewasbetteroffnottravelingwasIabletoplacethisincidentinalargercontext.Atthetimewefacedtheproblemthatwestillhadtogothroughtheexactareawheretheattackhadoccurred.Irememberclearlyhowtenseweallwere,forweweredrivingviaTingoMaríatoPucallpa,aroutethatwasespeciallydangerous,andwerecomingatnightaswell.Thedriverremarked:“Ifthecardiesnow,Godhavemercyonus.”Atthetimeitwasstronglydiscouragedtopassthroughthoseinaccessibleareasbycar,especiallytravelingatnight.Luckily,ourvehicledidusthefavorofholdingout,andwemadeitsuccessfullyoverthisperilousstretchwithoutoneofthefearedencounters.

ItwasanominoustimeinPeru.In1980,duringtheelectionyearfollowingtheendofthemilitarydictatorship,AbimaelGuzmándeclaredanarmedwaronthestate.InthespringhisfollowersburnedballotboxesinasmallvillagenearAyacucho,wherethemovementoriginated.Therefollowedattacksonpolicestationsandvillages.Finally,attheendof1982,thegovernmentdeclaredastateofemergencyandsentmilitaryunitsintothearea.Theensuingviolencewasofapreviouslyunknownbrutality,evenforLatinAmerica.The

leaderofthemovement,whosefollowerscalledhimPresidenteGonzaloorthe“FourthSwordoftheWorldRevolution,”demandedabsolutesubmission.Heandhisfollowershadabsolutelynoregardforindigenoustraditionsoranypropertyorhumanrights.Ifthepeasantswerenotwillingtosupportthemovement,thentherewerebloodyrevengecampaigns.Thusforcedtosupportthem,thepeasantshadtosufferaswellfrompunishmentsimposedbythemilitary,acyclethatwouldpersistformanyyears.

Weonlyperceivedadistantechoofallthisonourjourney,forthemovementinitiallyspreadacrossthecountryonlyslowly,butsteadily.Therehadalwaysbeenattacksinremoteareas.Myparentstoo,duringatripinthelate1950s—IwasonlythreeyearsoldandstayedbehindinthecareofmyauntandgrandmotherinLima—hadexperiencedanalmostdeadlyencounter.Thisonewasn’tpoliticalinnature,though,butwasduetoawidespreadsuperstitionamongtheinhabitantsoftheAndes.MyparentswerebackpackingbythemselvesintheAndesandwouldpitchtheirtentinsecludedplaces,whichusuallydidn’tcauseanyproblems.OnedaytheycametoavillagewherenooneseemedtospeakSpanishandapparentlynoEuropeanhadeverpassedthroughbefore.Therewereonlywomeninthevillage.Themenworkedinthefields.Thesewomenthoughtmyparentswerepishtacos.Accordingtofolklore,thosearesupernaturalevilspiritsthatappearinhumanform,haveblondhairandcarrybackpacksontheirbacks.Theycometokillpeoplesurreptitiouslyatnightandsuckouttheirbodyfat.Theterrifiedwomeninthesecludedvillagebelievedthatmyparentsweresuchcreatures.Theydidn’tletonanything,invitedtheunwelcomeguestsintotheschoolhouseandlockedthemin.Whenthemencamehomethatevening,theyappearedwithpickaxesandmachetestokillmyparents.

Luckily,therewasalsoateacherinthevillagewhohadstudiedinLimaandknewverywellthatmyparentsweredefinitelynotpishtacos,andalsomeantnoharm.Shewasjustbarelyabletopersuadetheinhabitantstoletthemlive.Theywereallowedtospendthenightintheschoolhouseandleavethevillageatonce,thenextmorning,underthesuspiciousglancesofthepeople.

Itwasn’tsolongago,Moroconfidedtome,thatsomeofthepeopleintheareaaroundPanguanastillbelievedthatweandourscientistguestswerepishtacostoo.Toputanendtothismistakenbelief,onceandforall,hesuggestedcomposingabroadcastforthelocalradiostation“LaVozdelPachitea”inwhichwewouldexplainexactlywhatPanguanaisandwhatgoalswearepursuing.SoIwroteatextthatwasreadrepeatedlyontheradiooverseveralweeks,andthatgeneratedagreatdealofunderstandingforourcause.Inthemeantimeeveryoneintheareaknowsallaboutourwork,andMoro,whoin

youngerdayshadhimselfbeenskepticalandsawtheforestmoreasasupplierofresources,istodaythebestadvocateforthepreservationoftherainforest.Fromthesurroundingvillagesschoolclassesregularlyvisit,whichMoroleadsthroughtheforestwithcontagiousenthusiasm.Thereheexplainstothechildrenasiftheywereadultsthepeculiaritiesofthefloraandfauna—andhowimportantitisforthemandtheircountrytopreservethem.

WhenIreturnedtoKielinNovember1980,Iwasgreetedwithsadnews:Mygrandmother,withwhomIhadlivedtogetherwithmyauntforsolong,haddied.Weburiedheradayaftermyreturn.

Itwasn’tlongbeforeIwasalreadyplanninganotherstayinPanguana,thistimelastingmorethanayear.Ionlyneededasuitabletopicformydissertation,onethatwouldallowmetoreturnagaintoPanguanaandthatwassofascinatingthatIwouldenjoyspendingseveralyearsofmylifeworkingonit.

Andthat’swhenmyfathercameupwithasuggestionthatcompletelysurprisedme.

18TheSecretSouloftheForest

Scaryspiritofthenight:avampirebatintheAmazonRainForest.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

“What?”Iaskindignantly.“Bats?Youcan’tbeserious!”Ihadalwayswantedtoworkonmammalsorbirds,butdefinitelynoton

bats,forIfoundthesenocturnalspiritssomewhatugly.Whatwasappealingorinterestingaboutthem?

“Don’tunderestimatethebats,”myfatherreplied,smilingslightly.“They’refascinatinganimals,possiblyeventhemostinterestingmammalsofall.AndinPanguana,there’sanabundanceofthem.”

Irolledmyeyes.IrememberedthebatsinPanguanaalltoowell.Justthinkingofthevampirebats,whichdrankbloodfromthecattleatnight,mademeshudder.OneevenbitmeinmybigtoeoncewhileIwassleeping,andIdidn’tfindthatfunnyatall.

“True,”myfatherconceded,“theydefinitelyaren’tamongthecutestanimals.Butjustconsider:YouwouldbethefirstpersontowriteabouttheminPanguana.Andwhatafascinatinglife-formthatactuallyis:They’remammalsandfly;they’renocturnalandorientthemselvesbyecholocation;andtheirbehaviorpatternsandecologyarereallyspecial.Justthinkaboutit.”

Ididso.AndthelongerIthoughtaboutit,themorepersuasiveIfoundmyfather’sarguments.Inparticular,thediversityoftheirfeedinghabitsandtheirchoiceofroostshadnotbeenstudiedatallinAmazonianPeru,letaloneinPanguana.Andincomparisontoothermammals,theycouldbecaughtrelativelyeasilywithnetsorobservedintheirroosts.

AndsoIenteredunknownterritoryandhaveneverregrettedit.TherewereonlyafewworksIcouldconsultforcomparison,andtheycamefromremoteareasofPeru’sneighboringcountries.ButwhoinGermanycouldadequatelyadvisesuchadissertation?

InMunich,therewasaprofessor,aSouthAmericaspecialist,whowasrecommendedtomefromallsides:ProfessorErnstJosefFittkau.SoIwentthereandpresentedmyprojectproposaltohim,andheacceptedmeasadoctoralstudent.Thenextyearsofmylifewerenowpredetermined:IwouldgotoPanguanaforatleastayearanddevotemyselftotheflutteringnocturnalspirits,andwouldthenwritemydissertationinMunich.

SoithappenedthatalmostnineyearsaftermyarrivalinKiel,Ipulledupstakesatmyaunt’splace,packedmythingsinboxesandputthemintemporarystorage.ForaftermyreturnfromPeru,IwantedtomovedirectlytoMunich.SittingintheplanetoLimainAugust1981,Ifeltagreateuphoria.IhadfinishedmyAbiturandthesis.NowIwouldwritemydissertation,andthenIwouldbefreetodecidewhattomakeofmylifeandwheretolive.

ThefirstweeksinPanguana,Ihadcompany.AnassistantprofessorattheuniversityinKiel,namedMichael,wasresearchingleaf-minerfliesandhadalreadygonetoPeruamonthearliertogettoknowthecountryandpeople.Unfortunately,Michaelwasoneofthosepeoplewhoseemtoattractbadluckirresistibly.DuringhisjourneythroughPeru,hewasrobbedthreetimes,andabushewasonsufferedanaxlefracture.WhilehewasspendingthenightinanIndianhutintheHighAndes,hewasactuallypeedonbyarat.Ontopofthat,hegotdysentery,whichgavehimhorriblediarrhea,andhelostatleastthirtypounds.WhenImetMichaelinLima,Iscarcelyrecognizedhim:Hewasterriblyemaciatedandhadgrownafullbeard.WhileIwasflyingtoYuyapichisontheplane,hehadsetofffromPucallpaafewdaysearlierbyboat,takingalongourluggageandatankofkeroseneforournewrefrigerator,duringtheacquisitionofwhichhehadalmostdrivenmecrazy.Forithadtobesealedabsolutelytight,whichisanenormousdemandinPeru.Butwithmuchpatiencehehadactuallyfoundthe“perfecttank”andwasveryhappy—andIwastoo,ofcourse.

Beforehisdeparturehealsoboughteightgiganticwatermelons.Ismiledatthat,becauseIfoundthisratherexcessiveforthetwo-dayboattrip.Therewasn’tunlimitedspaceonthoseboats.Youhadtosomehowmakeyourselfcomfortableonthecargoconsistingofcartons,barrels,boxesandpossiblyvariousmachinestoo,andthatwasmostlyanuncomfortableundertaking.Butit’struethattherewasnothingtoeat.Adayafterthedeparture,Michael’sboathadenginetrouble,andhehadtospendseveraldayswiththeotherpassengersonthebankoftheRíoPachiteauntiltheboatcouldgetgoingagain.Then,ofcourse,themelonswererightoncue,andhisfellowpassengersalsobenefitedfromMichael’sforesight.

InPanguana,heoncefelldownaslope,andanothertimehegotahugeloadofbirddroppingsonhishead.Thattimehehadbeeninvestigatingparticularlyinterestingfliesonalargeglob,andhadn’tbeenawarethatitssourcewasnearby—tobeprecise,directlyabovehim.Itwasaboatbill,alargeheron.Luckily,noneofthisledtoanythingworse.Itwasjustafunnyseriesofmishaps,andwelaughedalottogether.Incidentally,Michaelbakedexcellentbreadinacookingpotintheashesofourfireplace,andhewas,likemanyothers,excitedbytheimmensediversityofspeciesinPanguana,especiallyamongthegrassflieshespecializedin.Unfortunately,hesoonleft.AndIdevotedmyselfentirelytomybats.ThatmeantthatIhadtoadaptmyrhythmtotheirs.DuringthedayIlookedforsleepingquarters,climbedintohollowtreesorunderbanks,andnightafternightIwentintotheforestinordertosetupand

checkmytrapsintheproperplaces.Ononeofthosedarknights,Isawanocelot.Peopleencounterthesenocturnallonersextremelyrarely,andIconsidermyselfluckythatourpathsdidn’tcross.

AnothertimeIheardapproachingfootsteps,indicatingthatalargeranimalwasmovingtowardme.Istayedcompletelystillandwaited.Thenatapirsuddenlycameoutofthebushesandstoppeddirectlyinfrontofme.Withitssnoutitsniffedme,apparentlyjustasastonishedasIwas.ItwasprobablywonderingwhatsortofstrangeanimalIwas.ForalongtimeIdidn’tdaretomove,forIknewthattheseanimalscanbecomeunpleasant,especiallywhentheyhaveyoung.FinallyIclearedmythroat—andthetapirturnedaroundanddisappearedagain.Andthenextnight,returningtoPanguanafromapartyinYuyapichis,Ihadastillmoreincredibleencounter.IwascarryingacartononmyheadandfeelingmywaymorethanIcouldseeit,formyflashlightbatterywasalmostdead.Ideviatedabitfromthepathinthedarknessandendedupattheslopeleadingdowntotheriver.Andtheresomethingsuddenlygrowledverydeeplyandresonantlynexttome,likeaverylargedogandyetsomehowdifferent.Ishonemyflashlightintoasmallhollowbelowme,butcouldn’tmakeanythingoutinthedimlight.Thentherewasthatsoundagain,deepandrolling,sothatIthought:Ihavetogetoutofhere.ThenextdayIfoundoutthatitmusthavebeenajaguar,foratorn-opencalfwasfoundinthatspot.Apparently,Ihaddisturbeditwhileeating.Ifmyflashlighthadbeenstronger,Imightwellhaveshoneitdirectlyintoitsface.

Igrewaccustomedtobeingoutmainlyatnight.BeforedawnIwasagainonmyfeet,forIhadtofoldupthebatnetsbeforethebirdsawokeandcouldgetcaughtinthem.Thewoodcreepersareawakeespeciallyearly,andIdidn’twantthepooranimalswiththeirarrow-shapedtonguestogettangledinanet.Inthoseearly-morninghours,thegroundfogcreatesauniqueatmosphere,foritlieslikeawhitesheetoverMoro’spasturesandfields.Itcangetprettycoldandthemoisturecangetunpleasant.At100percentairhumidity,thedewfallslikerainonthetrees.

Icouldobservemanybatsatparticularclaylicks,orcolpas.Theseareareasatforestspringsoronriverbanksthatcontainespeciallymineral-richearth,animportantfoodsupplementfornumerousbirdsandmammals.Ihadfoundoneofthesecolpas,wherebatsflockedtodrink.IaskedMorotobuildmeasortofraisedplatformtheresothatIcouldbetterobservetheanimals.Therewerealsoswarmsofmosquitoes,however,andIhadtothinkofmymother,whohadsuchdiscipline.Shemanagednottomove,evenifthesweatwasrunningintohereyes.

Onespeciallydarkandsoundlessnights,Icouldsometimesheardeepinsidethejungleaseriesofthin,high,almostdisembodiedwhistles,whichwaftedthroughthesilenceasiftheywerenotofthisworld.TheycamefromtheTunshi,whichfrightenedmeasachildinLima,untilAlidacameandcalmedmedown.ThefactthatIwasnowhearingthosedistinctivesoundsinthemiddleofthejungle,allbymyself,abletoseesomethingonlyinthebeamofmyflashlight,wasalsoeerieformeasanadult.NowondertheTunshiisregardedinAmazonianPeruandintheneighboringcountriesasajunglespiritthatcanbeheardonlyonthedarkest,grimmestnights.Accordingtofolklore,itisasad,wanderingsoulthatfindsnopeace.Accordingtootherlegends,however,theTunshiisalsoaguardianoftheforest,foritwilldosomethingonlytothosewhoharmtheforest,chopitdownorkillitsanimals.Itcanmakepeopledeaforblindandalsobringmadnessorevendeath.Butinreality,it’saperfectlyharmlesslittlecuckoothatcanalmostneverbeglimpsed.Still,duetoitssoundlessnessandtheespeciallydarknightswhenitcalls,italwaysaffectedmestrangely.

MostofwhatIlearnedaboutbatswasthroughpersonalexperienceoncountlessnights.Tobeginwith,Ilearnedthatthoughthereareespeciallyuglyspecieswithsenilegrimacesandprotrudingeyesor,amongthevampires,withtinyeyesandsharpfangs,therearealsostrikinglyprettyones,withcolorfullymarkedfoxfacesorinterestingfurcoloring.AsasmallchildIalreadyapproachedallkindsofanimalsandwantedtotouchthem,whethertheyweresmallorlarge,dangerousorsafe,prettyorugly.Ioncepetablackjaguarthroughthebarsinazoo.Mymotherwasterriblyfrightenedwhenshenoticedthat.

Inthecaseofthebats,thewonderfullysoftfurwasacompletelynewandpleasantexperienceforme.Ilikedtopetthem,whichthelittleguys,ofcourse,couldn’tstand.Inthebeginningtheywereconstantlybitingme,butIlearnedhowtolettheanimalsoutofthespecialbirdandbatnets,whichwereknownasJapannets,withoutmakingtheacquaintanceoftheirpowerfulfangsalltoooften.Largenocturnalwaspsgotcaughtinthenetstoo,whosestingswereincrediblypainful,andsometimesbirdsofpreythatwantedtoeatthebats.Onceatapirevenmarchedliterallythroughthenet,withoutregardtolosses.Therewasn’tmuchleftofmyJapannetafterthat.Incidentally,withtheirsharpfangsandpowerfuljaws,batspenetrateeventhethickestgloves.Andoncethey’vesunktheirteethin,that’swhentheyreallyholdontightandbitedownevenmoreforcefully.SoIlearnedhowIhadtoholdthemsothattheycouldn’tgetme:Iputmymiddlefingerontheirbackandpressedthetwowingsbackwithindexfingerandthumb.Sincebatshavearatherthickneckmusculature,

theycannotturntheirheadsfarenoughtosnapbehindthem.Once,Iwasbittenbyavampirebat.Ilearnedsomethingsfromthat,

suchasthefactthatDraculaisalwaysportrayedfalsely:Itistheirincisors,andnotthecanines,thataresorazor-sharpthattheypiercetheskinwithoutcausingpain.Thesecretisthattheirsalivacontainsapainkillingsubstance,aswellasanotheronethatpreventsbloodclotting,sothatthebloodflowsheavilyandcanbelickedoffbythem,withoutthevictimwakingup.Therearethreevampirebatspecies.Oneisthe“commonvampirebat,”whichfeedsonthebloodofvariousmammals.Thetwoothers,however,drinkonlythebloodofbirds.Thesespeciesalsoinvadechickencoopsandbitethefowlinthesoftskinatthestartofthethighplumageabovethelegs,whicharehorny.Unliketheircolleaguesthatdon’tdrinkblood,vampiresstalktheirpreybywalkingontheground.Thatworksbecausetheycanfoldtheirwingskininsuchawaythatthearmbonesarelikesticks.Thentheywalk,asitwere,onthebaseoftheirpalms,wherethethumbsticksout.Ihaveneverbeenabletoobservethis,forvampiresareveryshyandonlyactiveinthedarkesthoursofthenight,butthereareexcellentfilmsaboutit.

Itdidn’ttakelongbeforeIwascompletelyfascinatedwiththebatsthatIhadoriginallyfoundsorepulsive.Andmyfascinationpersiststothisday.Therearesomanyaspectsofthesesecretnocturnalanimalsthatareextremelyexciting.Forexample,thevampiresareespeciallysocialanimals.Theyliveinclose-knitfamilygroups,engageinmutualgroomingandhavenurseryroostsinwhichthemotherslookaftertheyoungofothervampirefemaleswhenthesegoforaging.Butdealingwiththemisnotwithoutitsdangers,forvampirebatstransmitrabiesandotherviruses.ForthatreasonIhadmyselfvaccinatedagainstrabiesinGermanybeforehand.ThethirdboosterdoseIhadtogivemyselfinthebehind.It’sastrangefeelingwhenyouhavetogiveyourselfaninjection.Butafterthedoctorexplainedittome,itwasquiteeasy.

Thecallsofbatsarelargelyintheultrasonicregionandareinaudibletoourears.Withaspecialdevice,the“batdetector,”youcanrecordthemandlearntotellthemapart.Buttheseanimalsalsohavecommunicationcallsthatareaudibletous,andovertimeIgottoknowthisspectrumquitewell.Itwasareallyspecialexperiencetohearthecallsofthelargeleaf-nosedbatsontheflowersofthebalsatreesneartheriverduringthedryseasonandtoobservethemeatingthepollenfromthegiganticcream-coloredcalyces.Otherbatsflockedaroundthelargefigtrees,ofwhichtherewereseveralspeciesinPanguana.Alongwithcecropiafruits,thefigsofthesetrees,unpalatableforpeople,areanimportantsourceofnutritionformanyfruit-eatingbatspecies.I

wasreallyimpressedbythesocialbehaviorofabatspecieswhosemalesmaintainthemoodoftheirharemswithsongs,dancesandscentsignals,whichtheyemitfrompocketsintheskinonthearmbone.Whatlengthstheywillgotoforthelovelyfemale!

UltimatelyIcountedfifty-twodifferentbatspecies.Todayweknowthatthereisatotalofatleastfifty-three.ThatisquitealotfortheareaofPanguana,whichwasthenlessthanonesquaremile,ifyouconsiderthatthereareonlytwenty-sevenspeciesinallofEurope.

LatermybatdetectorwasstolendirectlyfrommysuitcaseattheLimaairport,whenIwasstandinginlinetoflybacktoGermany.Thesuitcasewastoofullandslightlyopenononeside–thathadbeenenoughforthethief.Undoubtedly,hewasn’ttoopleasedwiththedevice,foritproducedonlystatic,andhesurelyhadnouseforbatcalls.Soitwastoughluckforbothofus,thethiefandme.

AfterMichael’sdepartureIsoonhadcompanyagain.Manfred,anAustriandoctoralstudentwhohadfoundoutaboutPanguanafrommyfather,wasstudyingaspectsofthereproductivebiologyofthefrogspeciesatthelargeforestpondonwhichAndreashadalreadyworked,andstayedforawholeyear.Igotalongwellwithhimtoo.Wesharedthehouse—itwasanewonebythen,formyparents’househadunfortunatelycollapsed,ashadourformerworkhutandtheoriginalkitchenhut.Thenewhousehadnowalls,andwesleptontheflooronmattresseswithmosquitonets,eachinoneofthecornersfacingtheforest,sothatwedidn’tgetwetevenduringstorms,whichmostlycomefromtheriver-facingside.Imademyselfcomfortableallthewayintheback,screenedbytwobookshelves.LaterImovedintotheatticofourpalm-branch-thatchedhouse,whereitwasespeciallycozywhenitrainedandIcouldfallasleepwonderfullytotheregularrushingsounddirectlyaboveme.MostofthetimeIcameoutoftheforestaftermidnightoraroundtwointhemorning,bathedintheriverandthenwenttobed,butneverwithoutfirstreadingsomethingbycandlelight.

Manfred,too,wasoutinthedark,formostofthefrogsatthepondarenocturnalaswell.ButManfredandIwentourseparatewaysinaccordancewithourwork.Duringthedaywereviewedwhatwehadobservedandcollectedatnight,keptdiariesandcompileddata.Icaughtbats,whichIcarefullyplacedindividuallyinclothbagsandmostlyreleasedwhereIhadcapturedthem.Ialsocollectedtheirexcrement,todeterminetheirdiet,aswellasthelousefliesfromtheirfur.Forbatlousefliesarespecialparasites,whichIwantedtotakeintoaccountinmydissertationaswell.

Cookingwasalsoamongourdailytasks.Ialwayshadtostartonthatinthemorning,forittookalongtimeonthelogfirebeforeeverythingwasready.IntheeveningwecontributedtheleftoversfromourlunchtotheshareddinnerinacozycircleatthehomeofMoro’smotherDoñaLida,astrong-willed,capableandwarmwomanwhotothisdayremainsaninstitutionintheMódenafamily.Shesupportedusenergetically,welcomedmewithopenarmsandtookcareofthepeopleinPanguanawhenweweren’tthere.SheandPanguanaareinseparablyboundtoeachother,andIfondlycallhermy“aunt”tothisday.AtthattimeshewaslivingwithpartsofMoro’sfamilyclosetoourstationhouse,whileMorostilldwelledonthePonderosaontheothersideoftheYuyapichis.

AtthattimeIfoundPanguanaparticularlybeautiful,morebeautifulthanever.Thereweremanyanimals,batstoo,thatcanbeseenonlyrarelynowadays.Ilovedthemoonlitnightsfilledwithanextraordinary,ivory-coloredlight,andthegloriousstarrysky,whichcanbeadmiredinallitsmagnificenceonlyinareaswherethereisnoelectriclight.EspeciallyimpressiveinPanguanastilltodayisthebright,broadbandoftheMilkyWay,whichweoftencannotevenvaguelydiscerninGermanyduetotheilluminationofcities.

SoonImovedonthosebrightmoonlitnightsasconfidentlyasduringtheday.Andoncethatwasalmostmyundoing.IwasreturninghomefromoneofmyexpeditionsandturnedofftheflashlightwhenIemergedfromtheforest,sobrightdidIfindthemoonlight.Suddenlysomethingrearedupbeforeme.Itwasalance-headedviper,soclosethatitcouldhavebittenme.Ifroze,andthatwasinstinctivelyexactlytherightreactionduringsuchaconfrontation.Youhavetostandcompletelystill,andthenthesnakewon’tperceiveanymovement.Ihadbeencareless.Weactuallyknewthatitwasthere,forlance-headedvipersarefaithfultooneplace,andIhadn’tthoughtofthatduetothemoonlight.Nowitwasangry.OnceIpulledmyselftogether,Iretreatedslowlyanddeliberately.Thenitdisappearedwithoutasoundintotheforest.

Thatwas,incidentally,notmyfirstencounterwithalance-headedviper.In1969,whenIwaslivingwithmyparentsinthejungle,ithadalreadyalmosthappened.Backthen,Iwantedtocatchafrogformyterrarium.OnmykneesIwasfollowingitslowlyaroundasmallunderstorypalmwhenIsuddenlysawamovementoutofthecornerofmyeye—itwasalance-headedviper,aboutsixinchesawayfrommynose.Itwasalreadydartingitstongueaggressivelyandcouldalmosthavebittenmeintheface.Thatcouldhavehadadeadlyoutcome.

Ofcourse,lifeinPanguana—andthiswastruebackthen,stillmorethantoday—isalifewithgreatrestrictions.Wedidourlaundrybyhandintheriver,which

wasratherdifficult,especiallyduringtherainyseason.Theneverythingstayeddampandclammy,thelaundrybegantogetmoldy,andManfredandIgotfungalinfectionsbetweenourtoes,becausewealmostalwayshadtowearrubberbootsinthecompletelysoddenandfloodedforest.TheYuyapichiswasoftenswollenandbecamecoldandmuddy.Thenthedailybathwasoftenhardorsometimesimpossible.Andloandbehold,thingsworkedoutnonetheless.

InYuyapichis,ManfredandIweresoonacquaintedwitheveryoneandfeltathome.Inthejungle,birthdaysarelavishlycelebrated,andweattendedmostofthem.InYuyapichisandtheneighboringvillagestherewouldbeapachamanca,whichisalwaysafestiveoccasion.Theword“pachamanca”comesfromQuechuaandmeans“earthenpotmeal.”Youdigahole,coverthegroundwithstonesheatedoverthefire,pileonthemvarioustypesofmarinatedmeat,herbsandvegetables,withbananaleavesbetweenthem,andthenclosethepitagain.Dependingonthesizeofthepachamanca,itthentakesoneortwohoursbeforethewholethingisdoneandopenedwiththeparticipationofeveryonepresent.Morowasagreatpachamanqueroandhadmasteredcookingintheearthenholeperfectly.Thushewasalwaysbeingaskedtoprepareapachamancaatlargefestivities.Whenmybirthdaywasapproaching,wedecidedtocelebrateitinthevillageofYanayaquillowithMoro’sparents-in-law.Moroandhistwofamiliespreparedaraucouspartyformewithagiganticpachamancaanddancinguntilfiveinthemorning,towhichpeoplecamenotonlyfromYuyapichisandYanayaquillo,butalsofromthewholesurroundingarea,emptyingoveronehundredcratesofbeer.Oneofthepilotsfromthebushairlinestoppedby,too,andreplenishedthebeersupply.Sincethebirthdaygirlorboyistraditionallyresponsibleforfoodanddrink,thistoreadeepholeinmystudentfunds,butthatdidn’tbotherme.Everyonewashappy,especiallyme.

SincethattimetheMódenashavetreatedmeasamemberofthefamily.FromallofthemIlearnedagreatdealabouttheinhabitantsofthejungleandhowtheylive.Iwasalreadyfamiliarwiththerainforestandhad,afterall,heldoutforelevendaysinitonmyown,andyetonlynowdidmyknowledgedeepen.IlearnedhowtocookPeruviancuisineinthenativefashionwiththeproductsoftheforestandfields.Thatwasnotonlyextremelyexciting,butalsopracticalandcheaperthanbringingthingsfromPucallpaallthetime.Ofcourse,thatwasstillnecessarytoo,nowandthen,andIenjoyedtherequiredtripstothecity.InthosedaysPucallpawasnotyettheroaringinfernothatitistoday,forthereweren’tanymotocars.Ontheotherhand,theroadshadnotbeenasphaltedyeteither,andintherainyseasontheybecamesomuddythatyouwereconstantlyslippingandyourshoesbecameacouplepoundsheavierduetolumps

ofmudstickingtothem.HereIstayedwithMoro’soldestsister,Luz,whosehusbandworkedatthepetroleumcompanyPetroperúandhadabeautifulhouse,whichevenhadair-conditioning.Onlateroccasionsfriendsofmyparentstookmein.TheyweretheEscalantesisters,whosebrotherisaclothmerchantandusedtoownanairplaneforflightsinthejungle.TothisdayIvisitthesisterswhenIcometoPucallpa.

MostofthetimeIwentbymyselftoPucallpaandafewtimestoLima.MyfriendEdithgotmarriedand,obviously,Icouldn’tmissthat.ToextendmystayinPeruaftersixmonths,IevenhadtotraveltoTumbesontheEcuadorianborder.HereIbrieflycrossedtheborderandthencamerightback—forIneededonlytheentrystamponmypassport.ButIwasalwaysgladtoreturntothejungle.

ConsideringhowdifficultitisstilltodaytoreachPanguana,itiseasytoimaginethepatienceandadventurousnessitrequiredinthosedaystotravelfromtheretoPucallpaorevenLima.Atthattimetherewasagreatnumberofsmallairlines,someprivate,whichofferedconnectingflightsinthejungle,oftenunderthemostadventurouscircumstances.TodayIamfullofamazementabouthowundauntedlyIboardedtheserattletrapsaftermycrashexperience.Iwasseeminglyfearless.Therewasafifty-minuteflight,withasingle-engineCessna,betweenPucallpaandthevillageofYuyapichis;withoutbattinganeyelash,Igotonit.

Istillrememberwellareturnflightthatwassobumpythatthepilotwasconstantlycrossinghimself.HehadnotyetlandedinYuyapichisandaskedhissmallcrew—thatis,us—whetherwereallyhadtolandthereormightnotratherlandinPuertoInca.Therewasarealrunwaythere;whereasinYuyapichis,hehadtolandonapasture.IthadhappenedbeforethataCessnacollidedwhilelandingwithacoworahorsethathadnotgottenoutofthewayintime.Asaresultthepilotwassweatingblood.ButweallinsistedonYuyapichis,fornoonewantedtospendaneternityinPuertoInca,waitingforalift.Duringtheentireflightawomanwasclingingwithbothhandstomypants,andalittlegirlwascontinuallyvomitingonthefloor.Whentheairplanewasfinallyonsolidground,andonlyjustcametoastopattheendofthepasture,thepilotwassuchanervouswreckthathethrewusoutrightwherewewereandsaidhewasnotgoinganotherinch—allhewantedwastogohome.Icouldn’thelplaughing,eventhoughIwastheonewhowouldhavehadthemostreasontobeafraid.

AnothertimeIflewonaSpanishplane,anAviocar,averystrange,broadpropellerplaneinwhichabouttwentypeoplefit.Insidewesatonwoodenbencheswithourbackstotheouterwall.Inthecenteraislewerepigs,which

immediatelygotsick,evenbeforetheflightreallygotunderway.Thepassengersthrewbundlesoflivingchickensboundtogetheratthelegsontotheopenoverheadcompartments.Therewerenoseatbelts,ofcourse.Duringtheflightasortofairplaneconductorwentaround,collectedthefareand,asinastreetcar,pressedastubintoourhands.Nexttomesatawomanwhotoldme:“Youknow,Ipreferflyingtotakingaboat.BecauseIcan’tswim.”Ithoughtthatwasareallyfunnythingtosay,becauseshecouldn’tflyeither,afterall,ifsomethingweretogowrong.Itwasbetternottotellherwhathadhappenedtome.

Whyallthatamusedmeatthetimemorethanitfrightenedme,whiletodayflyingisneversoeasyforme—Ihavenoidea.Maybeinyourtwentiesyou’resimplymorecarefreethaninlateryears.Inanycase,duringthissointensivetimeinthePeruvianjungle,Iadjustedcompletelytolifethere.ThoughIalreadyhadlearnedtheSpanishlanguageasachild,IperfecteditonlynowandevendreamedinSpanish.MyloveofPeruandtherainforest,whichhadalwaysexisted,nowgrewdeeperandfuller.InthepastIhadalwaysbeeninPanguanaonlywithmyparents.Oursmallfamilyformedaperfectunit.Thoughourcontactwithourneighborswasextremelyfriendly,itremainedsporadic.AndIhadbeenonlyfourteenyearsoldbackthenandhadseenmyenvironmentwiththeeyesofanadolescent.

Asfarasourcuisinewasconcerned,itwasquitesimpleandfarfromasvariedaswhatInowlearnedfromDoñaLida.Whenitcametimefortheslaughter,ManfredandIwerealwayspresentandhelpedtheneighbors,andIlearnedfasthowtocarvetheanimalsandmakeuseofthemandwhichdelicaciescouldbeconjuredinthePeruvianfashionfromdifferentpartsofpigsandcalves,aswellaschickens,ducksandthefishoftheriver.Therewasalsoalotofgameandnativefruitsfrompalmsandvariousforesttrees.NowandthenDoñaLidaevenpreparedforusthegreatbullfrogs,turtlesandbeetlegrubsinthestyleofthenatives.HereIlearnedhowtocookorsmokecaimantails,armadillosandpossums,andIwasastonishedthatultimatelyevenmarsupialscanactuallybeeaten,eventhoughtheystinksoterrible.FromherandMoro,Ialsolearnedaboutwhatnaturalmedicinesthejungleprovides,whichtreesapscouldbeusedforwhat.Therearelianas,forexample,thatyoucutwhenyouhaveatoothache,fortheycontaincloveoil,abloodredresinthathealswoundsandmuchmore.InthiswayIbecamefamiliarwiththecustomsofthecountryandtriedeverythingthatIwouldneverhaveeatenotherwise.Ofcourse,todayIwouldstrictlyrefusetoeatmanyofthosemealsfornatureconservationreasons,butatthattimeeverythingwasfascinatingforme.Iwantedtolivejustastheneighborsdid,and

oftenIwassimplycurious.Moro’smothertrainedmenotonlyinthecuisineoftheIndians,butalso

inthatofthepeopleofGermanoriginfromthemountainforestsofPozuzo,whereshewasfrom.Therewas,forexample,astrudelmadeofbananasandraisins,asopadeknédales,aKnödel—ordumpling—soup,withmanioc,cornandallsortsofotheringredients.ButsuchmealswereonlypreparedwhenMoro’ssisterscametovisitfromLima.ThenDoñaLidacookedstillmoreelaboratelythanusual.Ofcourse,veryspecialoccasionswereChristmasandEasterandalsotheNativityofSt.JohntheBaptist,SanJuán,onJune24,forthesolsticehasitsowntraditioninthejungle.Theneveryself-respectinghousewifepreparesjuanes—smallpouchesofbananaleaveswithamixtureofturmericrice,withbraisedpiecesofchicken,blackolivesandhard-boiledeggs.Thisisatypicaljunglemealthatisnotevenknownonthecoast.InGermany,Ilaterhadtoreadjusttotheelectricstove,forIfoundcookingonthewoodstoveoronanopenflamemuchsimpler.

Istillrememberwellhowmydissertationadviser,ProfessorFittkau,visitedmeinPanguana,accompaniedbytwoGermancolleagues.Thatwasveryexcitingforme,ofcourse,butalsoenormouslyimportant.Ihadrealized,meanwhile,thatwiththemanifoldmaterialIhadgathered,Icouldnotonlyfilladissertation,butalsospendmywholelife.Henotonlyhelpedmesensiblynarrowdownmytopic,buthealsomadehimselftremendouslyusefulgettingfiresstarted,forthewoodwassometimesdampandhardtogetburning.HereProfessorFittkauturnedouttobeapersonwithextraordinaryendurance.Standinginthemiddleoftheacridsmoke,hefannedthesmolderingemberswiththelidofapotwithoutcomplaintuntilfinallyadecentfireemerged.Healsoimpressedmebygoingintotheforestwithouthesitationinthepouringraintosearchinthestreamsforthemidgelarvaehewasworkingon.Togetholdofatreecactus—hecollectedandgrewcactiathome—hedidn’tshyawayfromclimbingaroundondangerouslyrottenbranchesoverstreamsandponds.Thatwassomethinghehadincommonwithmyparents:Whenhewantedtoachievesomething,therewasnogoingback.Onsuchtripshewasgameforanything.

Alongsidehisteaching,ErnstJosefFittkauwasalsodirectoroftheBavarianStateCollectionofZoologyinMunich.Andsoithappenedthatasmallteamofresearchersfromtherevisitedusinourseclusionafewmonthslater.Apartfromthat,andfromthesurpriseambushbyagroupofEnglishjournalistswhosimplyshowedup,stayedwithusforaweekandannoyedmewiththeirquestions,itwasveryquietallyear.AndIenjoyedthecontactwiththelocals—Moro’sfamilymostofall,ofcourse.OvertimeIeventookonthesingsongof

thejungleSpanish,withoutrealizingit.OnthecoastIwasteasedforitandsometimescalled“charapita,”anaffectionatecolloquialtermforlittleindigenousAmazoniangirls.

Iwouldn’thavewantedtomissanyoftheseexperiences.SometimesIeventhinkwithacertainwistfulnessofthosemonths,whichcountamongthemostwonderfulofmylifetothisday.

Andmyaweoftherainforesthabitattrulydevelopedonlythen,duringmystudiesformydissertation.PreviouslyIhadfoundallthatinteresting,newandbeautiful,butnowIrealizedthatIhadstilllackedadeeperaccesstothisworld.AsanadolescentIhadmarveledateverythingwithgreatpleasure,andyetinthosedaysIwasamereobserverand“appendage”ofmyparents.Iaccompaniedthemallthetime,butremainedpassivemyself.OnlyduringmydissertationworkdidIputallmysoulandenergyintotheexplorationofnaturearoundPanguana.HereIfoundtimetoreflectontherainforestanditsstructure.AndgraduallyIhadthepeculiarfeelingthatthegreencosmoswasonlynowtrulyallowingmetopenetrateitssecrets.Anditreallyisaphenomenon:Foratfirstglanceyouthinkyoucannotseeanythingatallinthisforest—manypeopleexperiencethatwhentheyfirstsetfootinthejungle.Allaroundyouarecountlessthrivinggreenplants,nothingmore,forthenumerousanimalshaveadaptedperfectlytotheirsurroundings.Therearefingernail-sizedfrogssittingonaleaffromwhichtheircoloringscarcelydiffers,andyoucanstareatthisleafforalongtimewithoutnoticingthematall.Manygrasshoppers,bugsorspidersseemtovirtuallymergewiththebarkofatreeorwiththebranches.Snakeslyingmotionlesslyintreebranchescaneasilybemistakenforatwigor“disappear”perfectlyintheleavesontheground.Anyonewhoisunfamiliarwiththejunglesimplydoesn’tseesuchsubtleties.Butonceyougetintothisworld,itislikegraduallylearningawholenewwayofseeing.Itisasifaveilhasbeenliftedfromyoureyes,andyourealizethatyouaresurroundedbymultitudinouslife.Thisabundancecandefinitelybeoverpowering,inthetruestsenseoftheword.

TodayIknowthatmyparents,too,especiallymymother,feltthisintensely.FornowI,too,tookintheforestwithallmysenses,theendlessdiversityofthevegetationandwildlifeandtheiradaptations,nature’sincredibleplayofcolors,whichoftenliesintinydetailsandnuances,thesoundsthatsometimesenvelopedmelikeacloakandthatalwaysgivemepleasuretothisday,thesmells,thegreenandyellowtwilight,thewarmdampnessoftheforest.AndthenIfeelasifIwereplungingintotheenergyofapowerful,all-embracing

livingthing,sointimatebynow,andyetalwaysunfamiliarinnewways.Anditispreciselythisconstantrediscoverythatwescientistsfindsoextremelyfascinatingaboutthetropicalrainforesthabitat—andthisisespeciallytrueinPanguana,whichwehavebeenexploringforfortyyearsandstilldonotfullygrasp.

Itisthissecretsoulofthejungle,thesameforestthathelpedmereturntohumanlifeaftermyaccident,whichonlynow,duringmyone-and-a-half-yearresearchproject,revealsitselftome.OnlythendidItrulyunderstandthelifetaskIdecidedtotakeoninthedistraughtandsoboundlesslylonelyrainyjunglenightsaftermycrash.Backthen,IhadresolvedthatifIcouldkeepmylife,Iwoulddevoteittoameaningfulcause,ataskservingnatureandhumanity.Now,havingreturnedtothestationasanadultandfulfillingaresearchassignmentofmyown,whichIassignedtomyselfwithoutmyparents,everythingwassuddenlycompletelyclear:Mytaskhasaname.AnditisPanguana.

19KeepinganEyeFixedontheFuture

Symbolofadream:themajestic,sacredlupunatreeofPanguanawatchesoverthefieldstationintheAmazon,2008.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

InFebruary1983,oneandahalfyearsafterIhadsetoff,IreturnedtoGermany.Ihadspentmostofthattimeinthejungle.Thosemonthswereenormouslyimportantforme.Ihadreturnedasanadulttotheplacewheremylifehadtakensuchadecisiveturn.Ihadworkedasaresearchermyselfanddiscoveredinmyown,personalwaytheAmazonRainForesthabitat.Morethanadecadeaftermymiraculousstruggleforsurvivalinthejungle,Ihadgainedastilldeeperconnectiontoit.Ifmyeleven-daytrekafterthecrashhadbeensomesortofinitiation,duringwhichIalreadyhadanintimationthatmylifewasboundtothatofthejungleinamysteriousway,thoseeighteenmonthsduringmystudiesofthebatsofferedmeconscious,adultinsightintosomeofitssecrets.

InGermany,amoveandanewbeginningwerewaitingforme.MytimeinKielwasover,mybelongingspackedinboxes,andnowItookthemandmynewlygatheredexperiencesandmovedtoMunich,wheremydissertationadvisertaught.AtfirstIlivedwithmygrandmotherinSibichhausen,whereIhadalreadyspentsomanywonderfulvacationweeks.ButthedistancefromtheMunichcitycenterwastoofar,andsoIsoonlookedforasmallapartmentofmyowninNeuhausen.

ItookthenecessarysubjectsattheLudwigMaximilianUniversityformydoctorate.Paralleltothat,Iwasabletoworkpart-timeattheStateCollectionofZoology,aswellasanalyzethewealthofmaterialIhadgatheredinPanguana.

HereImetmanycolleagues,andamongthemwasonewhocourtedmeespeciallycharmingly.Hewasworkingonparasiticichneumonwasps,alwayshadadvicewhenIneededhim,andbestofall:Healwaysmademelaugh.Helikedtotreatmetomeals,wediscoveredthatwehadalotincommon,andbeforeweknewit,wehadfalleninlove.

Theyearaftermyreturn,IrealizedthatIhadtogotoPanguanaagaintocompletemyobservations,andduringthosethreemonthsinthesummerof1984,ErichsentmewonderfullettersinPeru.WhenIwasinMunichinSeptember,rightontimeforthebeginningofthelectures,wesaweachotherevenmorefrequently—duetomyworkattheStateCollectionofZoology,oftenevendaily.

Itwouldtakeanotherthreeyearsbeforemydissertation,entitled“EcologicalSeparationofBatSpeciesintheTropicalLowlandRainForestofPeru,”anditsoraldefensewerefinished.Aschancewouldhaveit,therewasanopeningforalibrarydirectorattheStateCollectionofZoology.Sincethispositioncorrespondedtomyinterestsandqualifications,Iappliedforit.Asagreatloverofbooks,Iworktothisdayinthatuniquezoologicallibrary,whichranksamongthelargestofitstypeinEurope,andherefindtheperfectbalance

tomycommitmenttoPanguana.In1989,ErichandIgotmarriedinAufkirchen,wheremymother

officiallyliesburied.MyhusbandwasinterestedfromthebeginninginPeru,andaboveall,ofcourse,inPanguana,buthehadnotyethadanopportunitytotraveltherehimself.Andnow,ofalltimes,itbecamedifficult,ifnotimpossible.ForinrecentyearstheterroroftheSenderoLuminoso,whosefirstexcessesIhadalreadyencounteredduringmy1980trip,hadturnedPeruintoacountryfullofchaosandviolence.ThoughitwasrelativelysafeinLima,travelingintotheheartofthecountrywasemphaticallydiscouraged.Toomanylocals,butalsoforeigners,touristsaswellasscientists,hadbeenbrutallymassacred.

InthoseyearswewouldwithoutquestionhavelostPanguana,ifMorohadnotworkedinanextraordinarywayforthepreservationoftheresearchstation.JustasIdid,hesawinitasortoflegacythathadbeenentrustedtohimandfeltthedesireandthedutytomaintainwhatmyparentshadbeguntheresomanyyearsago.Meanwhile,withmyfather’sconsent,hehadmovedontothegroundsofPanguana.Inthiswayhecouldbetterlendhissupportwhennecessarytothescientificguestsmyfatherpermittedtovisitandusetheresearchstation.AftermyfatherhadreturnedtoGermany,hestayedinregularcontactwithMoro,gavehimordersbyletterandremuneratedhimforhiswork.Butnow,difficulttimeswerebeginningforpeopleinPeruandforPanguanaaswell.

TheSenderoLuminosoitselfdidnotcomeasfarastheYuyapichis,butadifferentmovementdid,whichtookitsnamefromanIncasuccessorexecutedbytheSpanishoccupiers:“MovimientoRevolucionarioTúpacAmaru.”ThoughthismovementdistanceditselfemphaticallyfromtheSenderoLuminosoandofficiallysupportedtherightsoftheindigenouspopulation,itnonethelessdidnotshyawayfrombloodyrevengecampaignsagainstthetribeoftheAsháninkaIndians,whoweresupposedlytraitorstothecause.AndsincePanguanawasinthetraditionalareaoftheAsháninka,itwas,ofcourse,alsoaffectedbythoseconfrontations.ThemembersofTúpacAmarucollectedduesfromtheinhabitantsoftherainforest,eastoftheAndes,andthreatenedmanypeople,alsoinPuertoIncaandtheothersmallsurroundingjungletowns.Thereweremanydeaths,andforoneandahalfyearstheirrepresentativeswerealsobasedinthevillageofYuyapichis,wheretheymadelifehardforthelocals.ThatMoromanagedinthosedifficulttimestoprotecttheforestareaofPanguanaandtopreventanyoneelsefromtakingpossessionofit—forthat,Iwillalwaysbegratefultohimandhisfamily.

DuringmystayinPeruformydissertationwork,Ihadtriedtoresume

myfather’seffortstodeclarePanguanaanaturereserve,butwithoutsuccess.Still,Imanagedatthattimetoobtainfromthelocalauthoritiesafirstoptiononthesite.Myparentshadactuallypurchasedthelandlawfullyfromthepreviousowner,eventhoughitwaswithoutofficialpapers.Butnooneelseintheregioncouldproduceofficialdocumentsaboutthisareaeither.Andnowsuddenlyitwassaidthatallpropertiesbelongedtothestate,andonecouldonlyacquirethemifoneusedthemforagriculture.

SoMoroandIconsideredwhetheritwouldmakesensetoplantcocoainasmallsectionofthesecondaryforest.Fortunately,itdidn’tcometothat.Towardtheendofthe1980s,itreachedthepointwherethewholeareawasparceled,andstatesurveyingengineersnewlydividedtheland.Icouldn’tcometoPeruatthetime,forthejourneywastoodangerousduetotheSenderoLuminoso.Ontopofthat,Iwasinthemiddleofmydissertation.WhatcouldwedonowtoensurePanguana’ssurvival?

InthiscriticalsituationMoro’swife,Nery,declaredherselfwillingtohavegroundsofPanguanatemporarilysignedovertohernamesothattheywouldbesecure.Forsomeneighborshadalreadybeencastingcovetousglancesattheforest,knowingastheydidwhatarichstockofprecioustimberPanguanaboasts.Butourfriendsdefendedthevaluabletrees,aboveallourgloriouslupunatree,ifnecessaryeven“withtoothandnail.”AtthetimeMorogotalotoftroublefromtheneighbors,whodidn’tunderstandwhythisguywasguardingaforestinthiswayforfarawayGermans,insteadofchoppingitdown,sellingthevaluablewoodandturningthelandintopastures.ButMorohadmeanwhilegraspedwhatPanguanaisabout.Todayitiscertain:Withouthimandhiswholefamily,Panguanawouldnolongerexist.

Theyearspassed,atriptoPeruwasoutofthequestion,andsoMunichbecamethecenterofmyandmyhusband’slife.WetookvacationssuchasIhadscarcelyknownbeforethen:toItaly,GreeceandSpain.IdiscoveredEurope,sotospeak,onlynow,andenjoyedthatverymuch.Atthattime,duringwhichIincreasinglyshiedawayfrompressinquiriesandgavenointerviews,whentherewasnothingIwantedlessthantotellthestoryofmyplanecrash,overandoveragain,Iwasoftenovercomewithagreatlongingforthecountryofmybirth,butIputthatoffuntillater.Iwasdoingwell.Ifinallyhadahome,whichwasfundamentallydifferentfromtheoneIhadoncehadinthejungle.Onlytheexuberantabundanceofplantsonourroofterracehintedatwheremyheartstillsecretlybelonged.APolishhandyman,whooncehadsomethingtorepairontheroof,wasamazedbythelushgreeneryandspoketothelandlordaboutit.Afterward,hesaidextremelysympatheticallytomyhusband:“Iknow,Iknow:

wifecrashed—needsjungle.”ItwasultimatelythephonecallfromWernerHerzogthatpromptedme,

afterafourteen-yearinterval,toreturntotherainforestandPanguana.Ihavealreadydescribedthesignificantrolethistripplayedinworkingthroughmyaccident.Asecond,nolessimportantaspectwasthatIfinallysawPanguana,Moroandhisfamilyagain.Itbecamecleartomethatthetimehadcomeformetoassumeresponsibilityfortheresearchstation,theforestanditsinhabitants.Thathadremainedfirstandforemostthecauseofmyfather,whohadmeanwhilereachedtheripeoldageofeighty-four.Hestillattendedtoallmatters,wrotedetailedletterstoMoroinwhichheaddressedhim,ashehadoverallthepreviousyears,as“señor”—intheend,atsomepoint,as“estimadoamigo,”meaning“esteemedfriend.”MyfathercontinuedtoadvisestudentsanddoctoralcandidateswhentheywereinterestedinatopicthathadtodowithPanguana.AndhestillhadresearchresultstoreviewandanalyzefromhistimeinPeru.DuringhisretirementhestillvisitedonceaweektheinstituteofzoologyinHamburg,whereheofferedhisservicestothereptilesection.

Hestillhadsomanyplans.Alongsideabookabouttheformsofhumanlife,aboutwhichhehadalreadybeenspeakingwhenIwasstillateenager,hehadalsobeguntowritehislifestory.Unfortunately,heonlygottothefirstchapters,andtheunfinishedmanuscriptbreaksoff,ofallplaces,shortlybeforehisdepartureforPeru.Inthemiddleofthesevariousprojects,hewassurprisedbyasevereillness,whichwouldleadtohisdeathintheyear2000.

Afterthat,Idecidedtotakeupmyparents’legacyandenablethestudiesthathadbeenbegunsuchalongtimeagotobecarriedon.Itwasagreathelpthatmyhusbandsupportedmeinthisfromthebeginning.EversincehehadcomeforthefirsttimeduringthefilmingofWernerHerzog’sdocumentarytotheplacethathadsodecisivelyshapedmylife,andwasalsoresponsibleformysurvivalafterthecrash,he,too,hadbeenseizedbyenthusiasmforthisspot.

AsafirststepweofficiallyappointedMoroasadministratorandmylocalrepresentativeandputthatinwriting.InthiswayhehasanentirelydifferentstatuswithneighborsandauthoritiesandcanrepresentPanguana’scausestillbetterthanhealreadydid,anyhow,allthoseyearswithoutanofficialmandate.Formyparents’motivationforexploringtheforestwithoutexploitingitwasstillcompletelyforeigntomanylocals.Meanwhile,Moro’sworkhasbornefruit.AndofcoursearethinkinghastakenplaceinPeruaswelloverthepastthirtyyears.Nowadaystheschoolsofferthesubjecteducaciónambiental(environmentaleducation)andinthisconnectionteachersoftenvisituswiththeirclasses.Slowly,butsurely,thethoughtisbeginningtocatchonthatitis

perhapsnotsuchagoodideatochopdowntherainforestsoastoraisecattleonpastures,whichdon’teventhrivethere.Meanwhile,therearealreadyevenreforestationprogramsandenvironmentalspecialiststoensurethatnoteverythingisdestroyed.

ThevillagecouncilofYuyapichisvisitedustooandwantedtobecomeinformedon-siteaboutwhatwedothere.TheywerereallytakenwithwhattheysawandalsolearnedwhatMoroisaccomplishingthere.Meanwhile,Morohasturnedouttobeanoutstandingguideinthejungle.Hehasnotonlybeenacquaintedsincehisearlychildhoodwithalltheanimalsandplants,butinthemeantimehehasalsoembracedtheideaofnatureconservation.HowdelightedIamwhenIwitnessforthefirsttimehowenthusiasticallyandthrillinglyheisabletoexplaintheforesttothechildren.Meanwhile,ithasalsobecomeatraditionthateverytimeagroupofscientistscomestoPanguana,theschoolssendaclasstolearnaboutwhatthepeoplefromEuropeandotherpartsoftheworldareactuallydoinghere.

Thisunderstandingamongthelocalpopulationandtheacceptanceofourneighborsareenormouslyimportantforourwork.ForwhatgooddoesitdoifwecreateatinyidyllicspotinPanguana,butallaroundittherainforestisdestroyed?

Totrulystopthisdevelopment,Irealizedquiteearlyon,werequireallies—andinPeruasmuchasinEurope.Weneedresourcesthatfarexceedmyprivatepossibilities.ThatbecamecleartomeatthelatestwhenIgottoseethelong-sincemothballedfilesattheministryofagriculture.Theyhadbeencreatedinthe1970swhenmyfatherhadalreadybegunpursuingthisgoal.

AmainargumentoftheassessmentagainstanaturereservewasthatPanguanawastoosmall,sowehadtoenlargeit,acquireland,expandtheresearchstation.Forthat,weneededmoneythatIcouldnotmusterprivately.Thereseemedtobenosolutioninsight.

Then,asofteninmylife,awonderfulchanceopenedupasifonitsown.ThroughanarticleonPanguanathatIwrotefortheMunichacademicjournalAviso,incollaborationwithmycolleagueProfessorErnst-GerhardBurmeister,themarriedcoupleMargarethaandSiegfriedStocker,whoaretheownersoftheHofpfisterei,thebiggestmedium-sizedecologicallyproducingbakerybusinessinGermany,becameawareofPanguana.WhenwehappenedtomeetpersonallybychanceintheStateCollectionofZoologyatanopeningfortheartistRitaMühlbauer,whoregularlycreatesartpostcardsfortheHofpfistereiandhadalsopaintedinPanguana,SiegfriedStockertoldmethatwhilereadingthearticlehehadspontaneouslythought:“Iwouldliketogetinvolvedinthis!”

Itwasalongtimebeforewetrulydevelopedourworkingrelationship,whichwecultivatetodayandaboutwhichIamreallypleased.Firstwegottoknoweachotherovertime,andtheStockersthoroughlyweighedalltheprosandconsofsponsoringPanguana.Butintheendadreamcametrueforme:In2008,SiegfriedandMargarethaStockerdecidedtosupportPanguanathroughtheadditionalpurchaseofareasthreatenedbyslashandburn,andtomakeavital,long-termcontributiontotheexpansionoftheresearchstation.

Itisapartnershipthatiswellmatched.Asmyparentswerepioneers,theStockerswerenolessso.Tobetonapurelyecologicalbakerybusinessintheearly1970swaswidelyregardedatthetimeasquiterisky.Withtheirself-commitmenttosustainabilityintheirbusinessmodel,theecologicalcultivationofingredientsforthebreadsandtherenunciationofallchemicalsupplements,theywerefaraheadoftheirtime,verymuchlikemyfather,whowasalreadyreflectingonecologicalcontextsatatimewhenecologystilldidn’tmeananythingtothebroaderconsciousnessofoursociety.WhentheStockersdecidedtosupportPanguana,itfinallybecamepossibletotakeadecisivestepforward.

InPeruvianenvironmentalpolicytoo,somethingshavechangedforthebetter.Natureconservationusedtobeunderthejurisdictionoftheministryofagriculture.However,since2009,thereisanewlycreatedministryoftheenvironment.Withthisrestructuring,itbecamepossibletoclassifyprivateandsmallertractsoflandasprotectedareas.Thoughthismeantstartingoverfromscratchonceagain—afterall,Ihadalreadyfiledanapplicationwiththeoriginalnatureconservationauthorities—Isawthatitpaidtoredoalltheworkandinevengreaterdetail.Formeanwhile,thankstooursponsors,wecouldexpandthepreviously460-acrelandto1,730acres.Wehaditsurveyedagainandhopetobeabletoturnitassoonaspossibleintoaprivatenaturereserve.Forthen,oureffortsfortheconservationofthelandwillhaveanew,officialstatus,intheeyesofthesurroundingpopulationaswellastheauthorities.Itwillbestillmorerespected;for,unfortunately,therearestilltodayfartoomanypeoplewhoseekonlyshort-termprofit.AlotofanimalsliveinPanguana,andtherearealsopeoplewho,unfortunately,seeinthemnothingbutgametobehunted.Butforus,ofcourse,thatisoutofthequestion.Ontopofthat,ourforestcontainsagreatdealofprecioustimber,andthereareprospectorswhomovethroughtherainforestsinsearchofmahoganytrees.Whentheyfindone,theytrytowheedleitoutoftheownerforfiftydollarsorless,onlytoresellitataprofitmanytimesthatamount.Suchatreerequiresmorethanonehundredyearstoreachasizethatmakesitinterestingtotimbermerchants,andthenitendsupin

Europeaswindowcrosspieces.Thewonderfullupunatrees,towhichtheIndiansascribedmagicpowers,aremanufacturedintoplywood.

WithhiscommitmentMorohasmanagedtoprotectouranimalsandplantsalltheseyears.ThereisnoquestionthatitwillbesimplerforhimwhenPanguanareceivestheofficialstatusofanaturereserve.OurIndianneighborslivingatadistanceofafewmileshavealsocometounderstandouraimsandhavepromisedtorespecttheland.Weinvolvetheminourplanstoo,andinreturnwesupportthemintheirconcerns,sothatthewholethingbecomesacommoneffort,whichcanonlybeadvantageousforallpartiesinthelongrun.Formanypeoplehavemeanwhilegraspedthat:Oncetheforestisdestroyed,itwillrequirecenturiesforittogrowback—ifthathappensatall.

Meanwhile,theclimateischanging,andtheriversaredryingout.Theyoungerpeoplemightseethatmorethantheirelders.ButIamcertainthatwecaninfluenceagreatdealthere.Today,Panguanaalreadyservesasamodelresearchstation.Itcandefinitelyachievethesameasanaturereserve.Itdoesn’talwayshavetobegiganticnationalparks—smallareas,too,havetheirsignificance,and,ofcourse,wewilltrytosteadilyexpandthegrounds.

Onceagainwearepackingoursuitcases.OurtimeinPanguana—forthisvisit—isapproachingitsend.NowitistimetoheadbacktoPucallpa,andfromthereovertheAndestoLima.Heresomepivotalmeetingsattheministryawaitme,andIamalreadylookingforwardtobeingabletotakeanothersteptowardourgoal.

Everythingbeganhereinthejungle.Duringmyodyssey,betweendeathandlife,Igainedacompletelynewrelationshiptothings.Ilearnedthatnothing,aboveallnotlife,canbetakenforgranted.Sincethen,Iliveeverydayasifitweremylast.Thatalsomeansnevertakingquarrelswithmeintothenight,followingmyparents’example.Andtheaweofnature—thatwasburnedintomyheartalreadywhenIwasachild.Irealizedlaterthatnotallbiologiststhinkthisway.Myparentsneverinstructedme;theyimpartedtometherespectfornatureasamatterofcourse.TodayIregardthatastheirmostimportantlegacy.

Thosedaysaregone,andyettheyshapethepresent.Andthepresent,likewise,shapesthefuture.Therainforestissoindescribablymanifold,andeventhoughpeoplehavebeenworkingonitfordecades,weunderstandonlyafractionofwhatmakesitup.InPanguana,too,afterabouthalfacenturyofscientificwork,thereremainendlessthingsforustodiscover.Therearecolleaguesofourswhostudyasinglefallentreetrunkforweeksandfindhundredsofnewinsectspecies.TohavePanguanadeclaredanaturereserve—

formethat’sonlythebeginning.Ihavemanymoredreams;oneofthem,forexample,issomedaytobeabletoperformcanopyresearchatourstation.

Ioftencannothelpthinkingabouthowwonderfulitwouldbeifmyparentscouldseewhatwehaveachievedtoday.ThefactthatPanguanastillexistsaftersuchalongtime.Howtheareahasgrownandwillcontinuetogrow.Thefactthatsomanyscientistscomehereeveryyearfromallovertheworldanddotheirparttoconstantlyimproveourunderstandingoftherainforest’swonders.Iamsureitwouldmakethemhappy.Ihavetakenuptheirlegacyoneverylevel,keepinganeyefixedonthefuture.ThefutureoftherainforestoverwhichIcrashed,whichreceivedmeandsavedmeandgavemesomuch,isalsothefutureofhumanity,ourclimateandourplanetEarth.SomeoneasdeeplyboundtoitasIamwillneverstopworkingforitssurvival.

Acknowledgments

PanguanaremainsaninexhaustibleShangri-lafornaturalistinvestigatorsandscientists.MycolleagueandIstudytherainforestofPanguana,2006.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)Myparentstaughtmetolovetheboundlessdiversityoftherainforestandultimatelymadeitpossibleformetosurviveinit.

MynewlifeIowewithcertaintytothefivewoodcutterswhofoundand

rescuedmeafteralmostelevendaysinthejungle.InparticularIwouldliketomentionMarcioRiveraandAmadoPereira,whobroughtmebacktocivilization.

ThedoctorsattheInstitutoLinguísticodeVeranoinYarinacochaandtheirfamilies,whosocompassionatelytookmein,wereresponsibleformyswiftrecovery.Iwillneverforgettheirselflessdedication.

WithoutthefamiliesofEdithNoedingandGabyHennig,aswellasmanyotherfriendswhosupportedmeinLima,Iwouldnothavebeenabletoreintegratesoquicklyintomylifeafterthecrash.

InKiel,myauntCordulaKoepcketookmeinandhelpedmefindmywayquicklyandsuccessfullyinGermanyandespeciallyinschool.SheplayedadecisiveroleinensuringthatIcouldsoonfindanew,appealinghome.

ThewholeMódenafamilyinPeru—butfirstandforemostMoro,hismother,DoñaLida,hiswife,Nery,aswellashissisters,Luz,PolaandGina,wereconstantlyreadytohelpandtookmeintotheirfamiliesasifitwentwithoutsaying.ThefactthatPanguanastillexiststodayafteroverfortyyearsisduesolelytothem.

Sincemychildhoodourfamily’sgoodfriendAlwinRahmelinLimahasstoodbymeandhelpedmewithouthesitation.Herescuedmefrommanydifficultsituationsandledmethroughthelabyrinthofthebureaucracy.

ProfessorDr.ErnstJosefFittkauadvisedmeinMunichonmydissertationonbatsandmadeitpossibleformetoreturninsuchanintensivewaytotherainforestofPanguana.

ThedirectorWernerHerzogledmebacktothesiteofmymemories,anditisthankstohisscrupulousfilmworkthattodayIcandealmuchmorecalmlyandopenlywithmyfateandthereactionsofthepublic.

IamextraordinarilygratefultoSiegfriedandMargarethaStockerfortheirgeneroussupportofPanguana.Withouttheirlong-termcommitment,ourgoalofturningtheresearchstationintoanaturereservewouldstillbeunattainable.

Myagent,ChristineProske,fromAriadne-Buch,inMunich,aswellasBettinaFeldwegandhercolleaguesatMalik-Verlagencouragedandreinforcedmydecisiontopublishmyexperiencesindetailaftersuchalongtime.Butwithouttheexcellent,sensitiveworkofBeateRygiert,thisbookwouldneverhavecomeintobeing.Oureditor,GabrieleErnst,putthefinishingtouchesontheGermanmanuscript.

TracyErtl,ofTitleTownPublishing,workedwithgreatdedicationto

makethisbookavailabletoEnglish-speakingreaders.MystoryhasbeenservedexcellentlybyRossBenjamin’smeticuloustranslation.StephanieFinnegan’sattentiontodetailastheeditoroftheEnglishversionwasalsoindispensable.

Myhusband,Erich,sharesmyenthusiasmfortherainforestandismysourceofstrength.Manyatime,hisenergeticencouragementandhisendurancehavekeptmefromgivingup.

Index

MyparentsattheirworkplaceintheNaturalHistoryMuseumofLima,Peru,1960.(PhotocourtesyofJuliane(Koepcke)Diller)

IndexofPeople,Family&KeyPlaces

Note:FamilymembersarelistedindividuallywiththeirgivennamesintheIndexofPeopleandarelistedbytheirfamilialnamesundertheheading“Family.”

PEOPLE

AAlida16–17,45,196Amasifuén,Nestor101–102Andreas184–185,199Andreas-Salomé,Lou165Asheshov,Nicholas121

BBinder,Theodor,Dr.119Burmeister,Ernst-Gerhard214Buss,Hero121–122,144

CChano171,179Cobb,Jerrie104,144Cordier,Charles12Cuto(seeLozano,NicolásLukasevich)48

DDávilla,Ricardo48delCarpio,Manuel117,119,121,133delPino,Amanda(seealsoSisterAmanda)104Díaz,Lionel48Diller,Erich7,210,220DonAmado102–103,117,219DonBeltránParedes101DonCarlos101–102DonElvio77,171DonMarcio69,102–103,110–111,117,119,172–173DonVittorioMódena(seealsoMódena,Vittorio)49

DoñaJosefaSchuler(seealsoSchuler,Josefa)48–49,160DoñaLida199,203–204,219

EEricson,Dave133,140Escalantesisters202

FFittkau,ErnstJosef193,204–205,219Forno,Carlos123

GGina219GrandmaMódena48Grzimek,Bernhard162Grzimek,Michael162

HHeidemann,Gerd121–122,138,144Hennig,Gaby55,219HerrWyrwich(seeWyrwich,Peter,Sr.)Herzog,Wernerix,61,64,69–70,79,83–84,105–111,113–114,140,156,175,

212–213,220Holston,Fran105,133

JJuliana(seealsoKoepcke,Juliane)55,83,109,111,150,172

KKoepcke,Cordula9,19,138,151,162–163,165,219Koepcke,Hans-Wilhelm4Koepcke,Joachim9

Koepcke,Julianexiii,5,9,12,30,38,44,56,83,99,109,117,119–121,127,130,137–139,144–146,152–153,167–168,174–175,187

Koepcke,Maria4,8,19,24,29,119,134–135,137–139,167,174,177,187Krieg,Hans166

LLindholm,Dr.Frank105,117,133López,MaryElaine84Lozano,NicolásLukasevich(seealsoCuto)48Lyon,Nathan133Luz202,219

MManfred199,201,203Maulhardt,Hannelore122,143Maulhardt,Heinrich66,122,143Michael194–195,199Mikulicz-Radecki,Hildevon176–177Mikulicz-Radecki,Johann-Georgvon,Dr.136Mikulicz-Radecki,Mariavon(seeKoepcke,Maria)Módena,CarlosAquiles

Vásquez(seeMoro)Módena,Vittorio(seeDonVittorioMódena)Moro(seealsoMódena,CarlosAquilesVásquez)46–49,52,55,77,83–86,

107,110,143,156,157,160–161,169,171,175,178–179,185,188,191,196,199–202,204–205,210–213,216,219

Mühlbauer,Rita214

NNelson46Nery83,86,143,157,161,211,219Noeding,Edith55–56,150–151,187,202,219

OParedes,Beltrán(seeDonBeltrán)Penhaligon,Susan172–174Pereira,Amado(seeDonAmado)Peters,Clyde95,119–120Pola219PresidenteGonzalo(seealsoReynoso,AbimaelGuzmán189–190

RRahmel,Alwin17,33–34,38–40,55,108,174–175,219Reynoso,AbimaelGuzmán(seealsoPresidenteGonzalo)189–190Ribeiro,Elisabeth123Rivera,Marcio(seeDonMarcio)Roveredo,Dr.LuisFelipe137

SSaldaña,Adolfo78SanMartindePorres150Schuler,Josefa(seeDoñaJosefaSchuler)Scotese,Giuseppe166,172,173SisterAmanda(seedelPino,Amanda)Söllner,Erik107Stapelfeld,Christian48Stein,Edith165Stocker,Margaretha214–215,220Stocker,Siegfried214–215,220

VVásquez,Carlos(seeDonCarlos)Villacorta,Rodolfo84

W

Wenninger,Robert84,117Winter,Rolf144–145,147Wyrwich,Peter,Sr.17,95,101Wyrwich,Peter,Jr.17–18

ZZarbe,Mario140

FAMILY

Father(seealsoKoepcke,Hans-Wilhelm)4–5,8–10,12,15–20,22,24–31,33,48,43–44,46–48,53,56–57,66,76–77,79,91–95,101,104,110,118–122,124,128,131–141,143–153,158–159,163,165–168,173–174,176–179,181–184,186,188,191,193,199,210–212,214–215

Mother(seealsoKoepcke,Maria)vii,xi–xii,4,7–11,14–15,18–20,23–24,27,30,33,36–38,41,43–44,46–52,56–57,61–62,65–67,71,75–80,84,86,90,92–93,95,102,110,119,124,128–131,133–138,140–141,145–149,151–152,155,158–160,163–164,166,168–169,172,174–177,181–184,187–188,196–197,206,210

Husband(Diller,Erich)7–8,23–24,29,33–34,38–39,54–55,57,63,73,86,107,109–111,113,141,163,181,210,212–213,220

Aunt(Koepcke,Cordula)9,19,45,135–140,151–152,162–169,173,176,181,190–191,194,219

Uncle(Koepcke,Joachim)9,19,Aunt(Mikulicz-Radecki,Hildevon)19,120,176–177

Uncle(Mikulicz-Radecki,Johann-Georgvon,Dr.)136,167

PETS

Ajax12Amor176–177Böcki12Florian45Kastanienäuglein/LittleChestnutEye11,14Kazuco12Krokodeckchen/Crocolizzy11Lobo13,45,94,98Pinxi52,145,147Piups11Polsterchen/LittlePillow11,14Professor/Franziska13Punki52,147Skadi12Tobias/Bio11–12Ursi146–147

KEYPLACES

Germany3,8–11,13–19,24–27,33–35,41,43,45,48–49,52,54–57,94,111,127–129,136–139,143,147–148,150–153,162–167,173–174,177–178,181–182,184,188–189,193,198,200,204,209–210,212,214,219–220

HumboldtHouse8,12,14–15,18,44,56,176

Limaxi,4–5,7–10,12–14,16–17,24,26–27,29–31,33–35,37–38,41,41,45,47,49,52–58,62–63,69,79,85–86,93,108,112,122,137,139,141,143,146–151,153,57–158,162–164,174,181,185,187,190,194,196,198,202,204,210,216–217,219,222

Panguana4,5,13,30,37,40,46–58,65,73–77,84–86,89,91,97,104,107–108,110,141,143,145–147,150,155,157–163,167–169,173,175–176,178,179,181–188,191,193–195,198–200,202–206,209–217,219–220

Peruvi,vii,3–4,7–11,14–19,24,27–30,33–34,36–37,39–40,47,54–56,62–63,66,72,75,78,108,117,119–121,127–128,133,137–139,150,152–153,155,159,164–168,172,174,176–178,181–185,187,189,193–194,196,201,203,210–215,219

Pucallpaxi,37,45,48–50,53,56–58,61,63,66,69,80,82,84–87,95,101,108–109,112,117,119,122–124,132–133,137,139–146,149–158,160–161,172,187,189,194,202,216

RíoPachitea11–12,37,46–47,49,103,143,159–160,172,178,186,191,194

Tournavista37,46–48,78,83,103–104,110,117,144,172

Ucayali37,84,87

Yuyapichis37–38,46–47,49–51,59,75–77,86,143,155–156,160–161,169,171,178,185–186,188,194–195,200–202,211,213