Last Monday, in preparation for our week in the jungle, we planned on spending the day in Puyo’s two incredible botanical gardens to learn about the flora and fauna native to the Amazon. But when our guide at the first garden didn’t show up, we found ourselves with half of a day to kill, and happily fell back on our backup plan—the monkey rescue center/sanctuary just outside of Puyo. This center was set up in 2001 by a Swiss couple who had a concern for the degradation of the environment, and wanted to do what they could to help out. Because monkeys are awesome, they chose to set up this rescue center/reserve to protect the furry little critters who suffer from a horrible variety of abuses at the hands of human beings. There’s a fairly large market for illegally trafficked monkeys, and they are often horribly mistreated and even mutilated. The center does what it can to rescue monkeys from the hands of their abusers, and offer a sanctuary where they can be medically treated and psychologically rehabilitated. Many of the monkeys are unable to return to the wild due to either psychological/social or physical damage, but here they’re offered a quality alternative with veterinary healthcare, a ton of space to roam, monkey companionship, and constant affection from the staff/visitors.
This monkey—aptly named Bruja (Witch)—has clearly adapted to the injuries left over from her past abuses well enough to thrive in the sanctuary (she’s stealing chapstick out of my pocket in the first photo). Despite warnings that she wasn’t very friendly, she rode around on my shoulder for most of our time in the reserve—letting me pet her and even falling asleep in my hand at one point. A lot of the squirrel monkeys (of which Bruja was one) are free to roam around the sanctuary while some of the larger or more aggressive species were contained in large, lush, fenced-in swathes of the jungle. Because it was a slow day and we were getting along quite well with our new monkey friends (one of the refuge employees named me “monkey whisperer”… kind of a big deal, I know), we were allowed into one of the enclosures to meet Sandra and Bebe (pictured below). Bebe was a typical teenager—too full of energy and jealousy–so he’d climb all over you, nip at your fingers and feet, and pull your hair, especially if you ignored him to pay attention to Sandra. Sandra, on the other hand has a reputation for being docile and affectionate—one of the staff members described holding her as the closest thing she’s felt to holding her own kids. I’ve clearly never had kids of my own, but after Sandra spent 20 minutes latched onto my face a la “Alien” (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, Google “Facehuggers, Alien”) in an affectionate—although admittedly somewhat smelly—hug, I’m not sure the staff member had ever held a kid either. Not to mention, the whole time she was latched onto my face, I was blindly fighting off Bebe who thought it’d be a nice moment to start removing chunks from my calves.
It was a pretty overwhelmingly awesome experience, worth a dozen times over the $2.00 price of admission, and it’ll definitely remain one of my treasured memories from my time here in Ecuador.