For many years, I searched for the truth.

What was the correct thing to believe in? Did the Catholics have it right? Were the Buddhists on the path of choice? Perhaps the Pagans knew best. Or the Protestants in their various forms. What exactly was the right thing and where was faith?

I had traveled far and wide in my quest. Copious notes composed my logs, during my adventures. The answer was out there but where?

I had heard of a tribe deep in the jungles of the Amazon rain forest that celebrated their life by worshiping a stuffed monkey.

Researching this act took time but finally after three and a half months, then another month of preparation, we were ready to begin our journey, our adventure.

By our, I meant the group that had been invited to join based on some stipulations. The group was comprised of a Catholic Priest, one Buddhist, a Wiccan couple, some Methodists, Baptists, three followers of the Latter Day Saints, and one Jewish couple. I was surprised when I received interest from two Jehovah Witnesses. Each member, regardless of their belief or faith, knew they were responsible for two things- their health insurance which included inoculations for any potential diseases and that they each covered their own costs for special foods. The recommended vaccines were for Hepatitis A, Typhoid, Yellow Fever and Malaria. Most of those in the group decided to go above and beyond by following the guidelines of the World Health Organization and the Central Disease Center.

The guidelines were simple. Each person was free to practice their belief but were not free to try to influence others. I would provide the transportation, the general food, the needed guides and carriers of our supplies. This was after all, my research group.

I had been born to an affluent family and my business was very profitable, so I did indeed have the time and money to do what I wished. And right now, I wished for answers.
Everyone was to meet at the Miami Airport, so we could all depart on the same plane. I had arranged for flights from several countries to facilitate this. Some had just an overnight stay while others had a few nights.

The itinerary, after all who were going had arrived, was to go from Miami to Manaus, Brazil, then on foot to the Brazilian Amazon.

As there was a two hour wait before we were able to depart, we each had our own concept regarding the worshipping of a stuffed monkey. There were after all some belief systems that honored and worshipped an animal source. Leaving all religion out of the discussion, several theories were addressed. Most were directed at the prospect of a native form of taxidermy. After all, there were head hunters or rather head shrinking in the areas we were travelling to. If they were able to shrink heads, it was highly probable that someone could stuff a monkey.

It was decided that everyone would keep their own passports and vaccine records, although some did expect them to be collected and held by me. Surprise was etched on the faces of the few when this was announced prior to our Miami departure.

By the time, everyone boarded the plane, we had all agreed on the taxidermy theory. Our flight would be approximately six hours, so most in our party decided to nap, others decided to pray for our safety, to each his own.

We landed and made our way through the custom gates, the agents were both impressed and pleased with the idea of our adventure. Some even offered advice for our journey. We had to wait for our guides and the carriers, so the group pulled together small tables and enjoyed our tropical juices.

I took the opportunity to address the hazards that awaited us. Bullet ants were known to sting one, but it would not kill you, unless you were stung by over 2000 of them. It was worse than a fire ant and the pain involved was excruciating.

Next on the list was the Brazilian wandering spiders or banana spiders, which were venomous and not only caused intense pain but also erections that outdo Viagra but may lead to impotence. Oh, there is an anti venom, but availability is doubtful deep in the jungle.

Then there is the poison dart frog, which is toxic, death is within ten minutes if the poison reaches your blood stream. They tend to be a variety of beautiful neon colors. Don't touch.

Rattlesnakes, piranhas, jaguars, green anacondas and electric eels round out the list of threats.
Otherwise, the journey should be easy peasy. Some of the group did turn various shades of green and promptly upchucked their juice on the ground beside their chairs.

Fortunately, our guides and the hired carriers were familiar with these hazards and could either guide us around them or protect us.

Just when I finished my warning and those who needed to vomit had done so, the crew I hired arrived. Everyone spoke English and were eager to be of service. The ladies of the group were further advised not to under any circumstances venture away from camp sites without a guide. Within seconds of this announcement, there was protests from both the ladies and their husbands. It was quickly covered by the hazards that had been mentioned, also that women were frequently kidnapped in the blink of an eye.

It was agreed that we would start our travels in the morning at dawn, after a good rest.

The next day we began our journey. The plan was to have two guides leading with machetes, myself followed by a couple, then a carrier who was equipped with a machete, three more people, then three carriers with machetes, and so on with two guides at the end. This was to be our pattern for several weeks and of course our return.

For long days we trudged in single file through the jungle. Each night, our tents circled a campfire. Hammocks were strung from the trees that surrounded us. The carriers and guides slept in these. Meals were prepared each morning by two of the carriers and a different two prepared dinner. The Jewish couple had two pots, one for their meal and a smaller one for their water, which were kept as kosher as possible.

Our exposed skin was coated with vaseline, which prevented insect bites. Everyone in the group wore long sleeves and long pants tucked into socks and boots. Wide brimmed hats protected our faces. Bathing was every third day as was a change of clothes. We stopped mid-afternoon to facilitate these chores and to allow the washed clothing to dry overnight.

Finally, we were close to the tribe. They had rare exposure to Caucasians and of course were cautious. It took almost a week for them to feel comfortable enough to approach us and then a couple of more days before we were invited to their village.

We noticed that all of their homes were tree dwellings, with fire pits scattered around. The ground had been swept clean of clutter. Most amazing was the fact that monkeys were everywhere.

Some just sat on branches, some scampered on the ground, others clung to their mothers while some clung to both the women and the men. There were indeed more monkeys than humans. They were also curious about us.

Within a few moments we were all bombarded by monkeys of all sizes. Our clothes were investigated, buttons undone and redone, glasses removed and replaced. The people just sat waiting for the monkeys to finish before it became their turn to check us out.

Large pots were noted over fires, some filled with a thick paste of green, others had some sort of meat and vegetables as a stew or soup. We were thus invited to dine with them.

It was both surprising yet not so, that the monkeys were served first from the pot of paste. The soup pot was provided to us, followed by the men of the tribe then the women and children.

Each member of the group offered their own form of blessing, even the Jewish couple, who knew the meal was by no means kosher, partook after their prayers. The village people watched our curious array.

Then to our amazement, the tribal leader rose from sitting cross legged before the pot, climbed the tree ladder to a shelter, entered and came out with the stuffed monkey.

Everyone of the villagers bowed before the upheld monkey and muttered their chants, prayers, respect in a language that no one understood. One of the guides was able to loosely interpret what they were doing and saying.

The group was astonished. In fact, they were speechless. I was speechless. We were all wrong in our assumption.

Before us, being held in extreme respect, with a gentleness that was totally unexpected was a stuffed monkey or rather what was commonly referred to as a sock monkey.

Someone had left this monkey behind when they had passed through this village and the peoples had interpreted it to mean that this was their God to worship.

The tale of the Stuffed Monkey and its worshippers was solved.


1543 words.