The soft swish of the kayaks’ paddles is now more apparent in the inlet. A small island squeezes the river branch to the mainland. Butia Yatay, or‘ curved trees,’ hang over the river. An ash-colored bird hops from leg to leg, a dusky-legged guan. Its sharp black eyes, just above its bright red frill, scan other trees for the fruit it eats. It releases a warble; at this time of the year, the guavas it usually enjoys fall from their trees and into the water, softly bumping off the kayaks. A little ways away, the melodious but clear chirping and whistling of Paraguay’ s national bird, the aptly named‘ bellbird,’ cuts through the morning air. Finally, the kayakers found what they were looking for. One reaches to the back of the kayak with a smile; they chose to rent the kayak with the most storage space. They carefully extract their camera from their bag. They raise it up, directly at their prize. A black-collared hawk, its baleful gaze raised from its usual sweep of the river, watching for fish. A whirring click and its inimical eyes and illustrious, twohued plumage are immortalized. Shortly thereafter, it rises into the air, soaring up and up, higher and higher, until it is far above the rusting and singing and baying of Paraguay’ s seemingly infinite wildlife.
The guide aboard the motorboat deftly switches off the engine; what lies ahead is far too important to risk damaging— Lily pads, as wide as a human is tall and rarer than a sunflower in a desert. Hundreds of Irupé, or‘ platter of the water’ surround the motorboat, now propelled by a one-handed paddle. These lily pads were thought totally extinct for nearly a century, but now they have graced the Paraguayan River again. Just as the sun begins to rise, the flowers of the lily pads start to bloom. Just as the sun sets, the flowers will be gone, pollinating the next generation. Off to the side of the boat, a stork languidly returns to its nest, symbolizing the lily pads’ arrival. Eventually, as summer wanes and the hatchlings begin their lives, the lily pads will disappear, only to return when the hatchlings start making their own nests. Nevertheless, for now, the emerald green and quartz white lilies and flowers cover the river like a blanket, leaving it in tranquility.
At the river ' s surface, ducks, storks, and fish skirt around the lily pads. Above, the cacophonous orchestra of birds, cicadas, and frogs of different colors, hues, and plumages. Wherever one looks, there is a different animal tucked away into a tree or a vine or a fern. For now, the sun rises and remains in the sky for many hours, but as the days go by, its time in the sky will wane. Along with it, the birds will follow their yearly migration, and the lily pads will hide in the waters of the Paraguayan Rivers. But even though the kayakers will slip their way back to Piquete Cue, and the motorboat will slide into dock, the memories of the Paraguayan River will always remain.
Travesía • revista estudiantil | 23