I sat there, more than three thousand miles away from my home. The farthest I had ever been without my family, yet not the farthest I would ever go. Even at four in the morning, my surrounding were as bright as they had been during the day. At night, the moon simply replaced the sun and the world kept on moving. The air remained hot and humid throughout all hours of the day and night, like soup or more appropriately mud. Every once in a while an animal could be heard over the thunderous chatter of the thousands of insects just out of view. I peered out over the river which was spread out like an Anaconda, over miles and miles of rainforest. Leaning over the railing, I imagined diving off the boat into the river and swimming with the Caiman and Piranha and River Dolphins. Instead I turned my back to the river and walked back to my room. Sad that I would leave so soon but glad I had made it there at all, I went to bed satisfied. The next morning, only a couple hours later, I awoke to my roommates frantically grabbing their bags. We had slept passed our alarm and had to take all of our things to a smaller boat so that we could make it to the city on time. I barely had enough time to say goodbye to the people that had kept me alive for a week and a half while we studied the rainforest. The last thing I remember after the day became a blur of travel was looking back at the boat that had been my temporary home and wishing I could go back, do more to help them research, and stay just a little longer.