Yesterday, Adam and I took a horseback ride to the waterfalls up river. Adam had contracted with Luis for the pack horses, but Luis was double booked (everyone here has two or three jobs) and so he was going to just give us the horses…..oh no. I managed to convey to him that that might not be such a good idea, since we didn’t know where we were going. A man was walking down the path the other way, leading some horses. Luis hailed him and told him to be our guide. He gave Luis a dirty look, but turned back up on foot. Be sure and give him a good tip, Luis, to whom I had just paid 600 pesos, said.
Good thing, too. We would have been in some kind of pickle without Rigo. He led our horses up a narrow path that followed the rio. The main pueblo and tourist spots are on the mountains and beach, but the river valley is another world. Here there are broad plains, ranches and small communities. The jungle and mountains recede. It is brighter and dustier. Women wash their clothes in the river, pigs wander it, fabulous egrets and birds alight there. As Rigo led us, he would give us the names for the fruits and plants we passed along the way. We came to a small cluster of cement block homes with laundry strung alongside, and saw the elementary school—a nice building set back from the river surrounded by flowers. The flowers! Every primitive dwelling boasted a garden and some of them were pure artistry. 
We crossed the river and began to climb up a narrow path strewn with boulders. Adam was on a white horse (he’s a good guy) and just having the time of his life. Rigo was holding onto my horse and I just had to hang on for dear life and not look down at the boulders and treacherously narrow path. Here, set back from the river, was a fancy terra cotta casita that Rigo told me was for rent. He said a horse came with the rental! It continues to startle me seeing the primitive and the exclusive side by side, but it didn’t seem to bother Rigo. I suppose people here operate with a certain fatalism. I told Rigo he lived in paradise, and he agreed.
We finally arrived at the path to the waterfalls, another half hour hike in. I was doing fine on the horse, but having to hike in and climb over boulders just about did this asthmatic middle-aged woman in. Rigo was very gallant, carefully guiding me along the narrow path way above the river. Adam scrambled like a mountain goat. Finally we came to the waterfalls and the natural pool. We all were happy to hit the water! Rigo cautioned Adam to not go under the waterfalls—in the rainy season two years ago, a tourista went under and couldn’t get up and that was it for her.
On the return trip, Adam was in ecstasy on his horse, with whom he’d bonded. Rigo took us to his community, el Paseo, near the estuary, and pointed out his house, his uncle’s house, his mother’s house. He said his wife had the medicine for the scorpion, if we needed it. Good to know. Along the path a horse with a giant, giant man came towards us. “El Jefe,” Rigo said. The huge man passed us without any change of expression on his stonelike face. It was like something right out of Don Quixote.
We were so happy to have come through our adventure that Adam and I went straigtht to the beach and ordered lunch. We looked for our Jefe but couldn’t find him. Little did we know that Todd had panicked when we weren’t there and had gone running up river to try to find us. He had pictured me lying at the bottom of a ravine with more broken bones, and even fantasized having to have me air lifted out. But thanks to Rigo, all went well. 
