I toss and turn on the ugly mattress. But I can’t sleep. Around one o'clock in the morning, I finally get up, turn on the kerosene lamp, the only light in the room, and put it by my side while I sit on the steps. With my head resting on my bent knees, I look at the banks of the Rio Guaviare lit by a beautiful full moon.
Here we aren’t in the heart of the sss, but the trees appear fleecy and bright and the broad, calm water ripples slightly under a hot wind that refuses to cool down. At night, we forget the muddy latte coffee colour of the river. Serenity reigns. During the day, I noticed with surprise that the road passing near the camp is quite busy.
The cocoa trees sway their long oval leaves, the fish teeming along the banks leave circles in the water when they come to the surface to
