It’s pitch dark and I’m standing on the bow of the boat as it sails through the lagoon. Behind me are a handful of tourists and the driver operating the outboard motor. Suddenly I see eyes sparkling above the surface of the water, and the driver steers the boat towards my flashlight beam. As I roll up my sleeves, he slows down.
Then, bang, I reach resolutely into the water below me. The boat’s engine stops, and I switch off the torch too – absolute silence. When I pull my hand out of the water and turn towards the tourists in total darkness, everyone is on tenterhooks. I switch the flashlight on again and hold a calm caiman in my hand. It’s a special situation for the visitors, some are excited, others calm. Then, as I do almost every evening, I continue with my presentation and explanations about the animal, threats and nature conservation. I also check the animal for parasites such as leeches before putting it back or relocating it due to lack of food.
But how did it all start?
All travellers these days are confronted with the terms digital nomad and online work. There are dozens of forums and discussions about working online. Some jobs work better than others. We are constantly asked if we work while travelling. When we say online, their curiosity is fed. But what many travellers forget these days is that you don’t have to be a translator or a programmer, there are still good old-fashioned offline jobs out there. Of course, the pay varies from country to country, but there are all sorts of jobs you can do. You just have to ask, be motivated and open to new things, sometimes in exchange for board and lodging, sometimes for a wage.
Personally, when I was asked at home if I would work while travelling, I always said that if I saw something I liked, why not, for a while. Often I would do small maintenance jobs around the house of people who offered us a place to stay or even food in exchange. I repaired the rotten garden gate at Toni & Nena’s in Bolivia, fixed the shower at Breno and Rosana’s newly opened campsite in Brazil, or even built a new platform on their pond.
Doors and windows often have to be adjusted, as they are often poorly made and wrongly installed, and the weather and damp do the rest. The DIY work you sometimes see is unbelievable, a lot of it just works with tricks and no repair or maintenance is ever done. However, I got my first real job on the road by chance.
We ended up camping for a while in the Bolivian Amazon basin in a lodge run by a Swiss-Bolivian couple, but didn’t really take part in the organised tours. We just went into the forest on our one and looked for animals. We found some and then told the boss what we had seen, she jokingly said: ‘Ah, you know the animals very well and speak three languages, don’t you want to work for us?’ I replied that I had been interested and fascinated by animals and nature since I was a child, but that we had to move on.
After a few months, however, I still thought often about the offer and Cora kept encouraging me to just do it, as I often got upset about the other tour guides. So, it was time for me to do it better. As Cora was flying to Europe for a few months anyway, I asked if they were still looking for someone for the high season? She said yes and explained to me via WhatsApp exactly what to expect. I liked it and agreed.
When Cora flew left Peru for Europe, I went back to Trinidad in Bolivia. But as there weren’t many guests there yet, I made a stopover and spent a week in Rurrenabaque, where it rained a lot and there were lots of tourists, but also a cosy café where I settled in and prepared for the job, learning about animals and other things online.
You’ll find out what it’s like to be a tour guide and whether it hurts to be bitten by piranhas in next week’s second part.