Cowboy Tourism

Then we saw it - a giant anaconda - the snake that kills its prey by squeezing it to death with its powerful coils and then swallows it whole. From a distance, it looked like a telephone pole gone limp. Raymond let out a holler and led the charge toward the snake. He and his cowboy buddies wanted to capture it; the rest of us would be happy with a good picture, preferable one that contained both us and the big snake. After a bit of prodding, the anaconda slipped into a nearby pond covered with lily pads. If the members of the group were going to realize photographic fulfillment, someone was going to have to go in after the creature.

Giant anaconda

How could we resist? The giant anaconda is the heaviest snake in the world. From Collier's Encyclopedia: "One 19-foot (5.8 meter) specimen measured three feet (90 cm) around and weighed 236 pounds (107 kg). The snake's accepted maximum length of 28 feet (8.5 meters) makes it second only to the reticulated python of the Old World, whose record length is 33 feet (10 meters)."

The day began at first light when Raymond picked us up with his truck. We left Mantecal, an obscure little town in southern Venezuela, and drove to his tourist camp a couple of hours from town. The fabulous wildlife of the Los Llanos area was waking up (along with the Drago passengers after an all-night bus ride from Caracas) and Raymond was eager to show us everything.

Los Llanos (the plains) is a sparsely-settled part of Venezuela that consists of billiard-table flat, low-lying savannas. Lonely Planet Venezuela described it as enormous expanses covered mostly with grass and ribbons of forest along the rivers and scattered pockets of woodlands. Rivers are numerous and, in wet season, voluminous. May to November is characterized by frequent and intense rains. The rivers overflow, turning much of the land into shallow lagoons. Since the land is unusable half of the year, the main economic activity is raising cattle and the people who do it are tough, resistant cowboys. Over the years, the Llaneros have developed a distinctive culture and folklore of their own.

The rainy season was long over so only scattered ponds and drainage channels along the road held water. All were chock full of waterbirds - snow-white cranes, pink flamingos, various other black and white birds I could not identify, and the stunning scarlet ibis. The corocoro, or scarlet ibis, with its bright red plumage, is a spectacular sight when it appears in large colonies during dry season. As the truck rolled by, large clouds of these birds rose into the air, often intermingling to create a flying patchwork of color. If the birds didn't jump, Raymond encouraged them by making noise.

Since the terrain was flat and open, most of the trees and bushes grew along the road, making it easy to spot the birds that inhabited the foliage - brown and black hawks, other large predators with red beaks, vultures, and a plethora of tiny, brightly-colored birds. When I saw a pair of beautiful red, blue, and yellow macaws drone noisily overhead, I felt like I was in bird heaven. No wonder Latin America is often called the bird continent! Too bad I know so little about identifying them or this story would read like one of Redmond O'Hanlon's lengthy biological descriptions.

And there was much more to see than birds. Since disturbing the wildlife never disturbed our host Raymond, he made sure nothing escaped our view. For example, when a big, black anteater was spotted in the bushes beside a ditch, he stopped the truck, jumped down and ran after it. Grabbing the creature by the tail, he pulled it from the bushes and chased it across the road into the foliage on the other side. Then Raymond repeated the maneuver to ensure a good photograph for everyone. Since anteaters are nocturnal, the sighting was very fortuitous. Hopefully, the anteater learned never to show its face again during the day.

The ranch where Raymond's family lived was not fancy. Plumbing was functional but electricity was not available unless you counted the thumb-sized light bulbs powered from the battery in Raymond's truck. Sleeping quarters consisted of several screened cabanas - round structures with a center pole from which hammocks fanned out to the wall. The enclave of buildings, the open-air dining hut in particular, overlooked a lagoon/swamp filled with birds and caimans (South American alligators) plus one mysterious aquatic creature that surfaced briefly from time to time. It was later identified as a fresh-water dolphin.

A sleeping hammock plus meals and guide services cost each person thirty dollars a day. The food was basic - fried plantains, rice, noodles, and oddly-cut meat, usually with bones, skin, and fat still attached. During meal times, a baby tapir and a small capybara scoured the floor beneath us, tickling toes in their search for scraps.

At night you could easily see the reflection from the eyes of caimans in the swamp if you held a torch at eye level. If the twinkling dots appeared in a pair, you knew the creature was looking right back at you. Despite the presence of so many alligators, several people eventually slept outside under their mosquito nets to escape the snorers in the sleeping huts. Raymond said that some species of caiman grow to 15 feet in length but he had never seen one that big around his compound.

After our first siesta, we climbed aboard trucks for a game drive on the road. The bird life was still prolific but we were after reptiles, which brings me back to the big anaconda in the pond.

By the tail

Raymond and his cohorts waded into the weed-filled pond, gingerly poking around for the snake's nest, lair, or whatever you call it with long sticks. When they found not one but two big snakes, the adventurous members of the group were overwhelmed by excitement and rushed down to help pull the snakes out by their tails.

The snakes were good-sized - at least 15 feet in length and as thick as a dinner plate in the middle. It took four people to pick one up and a fifth man, one of the cowboys, to keep a tight grip on the snake's head and mouth. After much photography, we let the snakes return to their lair. Seeing a creature that has evolved to the top of its food chain, without any predators to fear, always impresses me.

Anaconda with cowboys

Moving further down the road, we discovered another lagoon completely surrounded by caimans of all sizes. The cowboys pulled a five-footer from the water and bound its jaws so we could all pose with it. Then they decided it wasn't big enough so they captured a second one and subjected it to the same treatment. It was oddly refreshing to see the local people interacting naturally, rough as it may have been, with their environment instead of pretending otherwise to effect the ecological view that tourists want to see. In most places that you can go, the guide points to a speck in the sky and says "that's a toucan." In Los Llanos, if you express an interest in a caiman, the boys wrestle one up for you to pet. However, that's no excuse for tossing a caiman back in the water without untying its snout, which the boys did because they couldn't undo the knot.

Caiman with cowboy

The Drago group spent a couple more days on the ranch, going on more game drives, boating down a nearby river, fishing for piranhas, riding horses, and lying comatose during the heat of the day. The river was packed with more birds than I have ever seen in one place. Every fifty feet or so we would flush a big one from the bank or a branch and it would swoop over us to the other side of the river. And, like the savanna, there was more than birds. When our guide spotted some just-hatched baby caimans no bigger than my hand, we pulled ashore so we could hold them. Another time Raymond caught some piranhas and used them as bait to lure hawks down to the water.

One day Raymond decided we needed to see a little Los Llanos culture so he organized a florioco (music and dance) show that evening.

"The musica llanera, also known as joropo, has its origin in flamenco, although it has changed considerably over the centuries. It's a rhythmic form written in 6/8 time, usually sung and accompanied by the arpallanera (a sort of harp), a cuatro (small guitar) and maracas (gourd rattles). A modern joropo ensemble usually includes the double bass as part of its rhythmic section...Every second inhabitant of the plains sings or plays one of the instruments, and every village has at least one joropo ensemble." - Lonely Planet

The music was fast but the dancing was even faster with very little movement above the waist and lots of quick stomping with the feet. After watching the locals, the Spousal Unit and I gave it a shot but one dance left us drenched in sweat and exhausted. When is the last time your partner danced to high-speed harp music? The next day we met the guitar player bicycling down the road and he complemented us on our attempt. If you want to meet locals, Los Llanos is a good place because there aren't a lot of people there, especially tourists. Just look out for the cowboys whose boots move like jackhammers when they dance to joropo music.

One of the best things the Unit and I did in Los Llanos was quietly stroll down the road, early in the morning to listen to the birdsong, and in the evening to escape the mosquitoes from the lagoon. Thanks to Dragoman we had the good fortune to be in the right place at the right time for maximum wildlife viewing. Before getting on their truck and off the beaten track, I had never even heard of Los Llanos. Its frontier atmosphere, its empty plains and lonely roads, and the marvelously unfamiliar sounds and smells emanating from the side of the road on a moonless night were great. although I enjoyed sneaking about trying to get a perfect picture of waterbirds taking flight, I will not forget being very startled one night by the sudden swooshing sound of a formation of birds skimming overhead in the darkness. Perhaps I was caught off guard because my eyes were occupied looking for telephone poles lying across the road.

P.S. - Yes, yes - there are environmental issues here. Los Llanos is a new destination for Dragoman and their CERT (Campaign for Environmentally Responsible Tourism) is not yet in compliance. Certainly their driver/leader did his best to deter what many would deem wildlife abuse by the Venezuelan cowboys. It is their country, however. One point of this story is to show a local attitude about the ecology, especially when one's backyard is full of alligators, piranhas, and huge snakes. Keep in mind that conditions would probably be worse without tourism, eco or otherwise. The preceding is, as usual, my humble opinions only.

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