Once in a Life Time Journey through the Panamanian Jungle
My Journey to the Isolated Indigenous Community Deep in the Guna Yala Jungle
In October 2024, I was invited to join a small group of visitors to an isolated indigenous community in the Comarca Guna Yala. This particular community is located in the mainland jungle of Panama, within the autonomous territory of the Guna Yala people.
To get there, we took a canoe from the San Blas Islands up the Río Azúcar—an upstream journey of about five hours through untouched, lush rainforest. We were a group of six adventurous foreigners, our Guna guide Bredio, and the one-eyed captain Alex. Despite having only one working eye—and never once removing his sunglasses, even at night—Alex expertly steered us through the winding river like a true jungle veteran.
At several points, the river got too shallow to navigate, and we had to jump out and push the canoe through the mud. Along the way, we saw zero tourists. The only other people we encountered were a few local indigenous farmers tending to banana fields along the riverbanks.
Ridding up stream in a motored canoe Pushing the canoe in the shallow parts
Arriving at the Village
After nearly four hours, we reached the edge of the village. We jumped off the canoe and walked into the jungle. The first thing we passed was the cemetery—an incredible sight in the middle of nowhere. Wooden huts with palm-leaf roofs sheltered raised graves—just small mounds of earth. What struck me most was the fresh food—rice, beans, and small gifts—left on the graves. It seemed the families regularly returned to care for their departed loved ones. It was both surreal and deeply moving.
We continued walking another 30 minutes through dense forest, beneath towering banana and plantain trees, until we reached the village itself. As soon as we arrived at the outskirts, curious eyes peeked out at us from behind trees and huts. The villagers were just as excited to see us as we were to see them.
The word “Mergi”—which means "foreigner" in Guna—spread through the village like wildfire. Within minutes, the entire community came to greet us. They call themselves “Dule”, which simply translates to “people.”
Our first steps in the village Guna kid in his home
Warm Welcome & Chicha House
The locals welcomed us with huge smiles and bunches of bananas as gifts. They offered us a public hut to sleep in for the night—"La Casa de la Chicha."
Chicha is a fermented corn drink they prepare during a monthly ceremony. The process takes two weeks, after which the entire village gathers to drink it. The shaman conducts a spiritual ritual using the drink to connect with the spirits.
We set up our hammocks inside the hut. Sleeping on the ground in the jungle isn’t an option—not with snakes, spiders, ants, and other creatures around. I picked a spot in the corner—right next to the fermenting corn. I was strictly instructed not to fart during the night, as it might spoil the chicha. So, I held it in for three days. No joke. There were even carved wooden dolls placed around the corn to ward off bad spirits. That made me feel marginally safer. 😄
The "Chicha guardians"
Dinner & Jungle Dreams
That evening, we had dinner with the family hosting us. They served yucca (cassava) soup and hunter’s meat: a local deer and a jungle rodent they call “Conejo Pintado” (Lowland Paca). We shared some rum, traded stories, and eventually retired to our hammocks. I slept like a baby.
Hunters meat cooking Our Hammocks in the Chicha house
A Village Unlike Any Other
In the morning, after breakfast, we explored the village with the shaman, who also serves as the community's spiritual healer. About 300 people live there in simple wooden huts. Their homes are bare, except for handmade hammocks. There’s a fascinating absence of personal ownership. Everyone has a home, but everything else—chairs, tools, items—is shared freely. Need a chair? Just take one. You don’t “own” it.
Between clusters of homes, we saw a unique device: they hollowed out a coconut palm trunk, inserted two large wooden poles like giant tongs, and used it to press sugarcane. One person would jump on the top pole to extract juice. We got a taste—pure, sweet energy—and kept exploring.
Family hut in the village Sugar cane extract device
Living With Nature
As a hunter-gatherer community, they rely entirely on nature for food, shelter, and medicine. The shaman showed us herbs and plants used to cure various illnesses—from leaves for skin rashes to strange fruits for stomach issues. It was incredible to see how much they trust the land to provide everything.
Walking through the village, we played with some local kids. One adult told us we were only the second group of foreigners these children had ever seen. No tourists had come for 12 years.
Later, we cooled off in the river—essential to daily life here. The locals bathe several times a day, using the river to cleanse after nearly every activity.
While we swam, the kids returned with a gift: tiny red bananas. I'd never seen bananas like these before. They tasted like banana-flavored gummy candy—sweet and completely unique.
The Shaman of the Village Guna girl with her pet Titi Monkey
Tiny red bananas
Deep Conversations & Football Fever
After lunch, I took advantage of our translator and had a beautiful conversation with a 90-year-old woman. I told her I was Jewish, and we talked about God, the afterlife, and spirits. Despite the differences in our worlds, the connection felt natural and honest. It reminded me how similar we all really are. I asked her for how long have they been living in this jungle, and she said "a very long time!" I asked "how many years?" and she said that Her grandfather's grandfather lived here too!
The Guna were originally based in the inland areas of the Darién and Colombian regions. Archaeological and oral histories suggest they have been in the greater Isthmus of Panama for many centuries before the arrival of Europeans.
The Guna were documented by Spanish explorers as early as the 16th century, by which time they were already established in the region. While direct archaeological evidence is limited due to the humid climate and migratory history, it's safe to say the Guna have had a continuous and adaptive presence in the area for centuries, possibly more than a millennium.
Walking through the village, we also met a group of athletes who had walked three hours through the jungle from a neighboring village to play a football match. The entire community came out to cheer. It felt like a festival—no popcorn stands or cotton candy, but there was fresh sugarcane juice, coconut water, and hunter's meat shared freely among everyone.
The home team won 3–1, and the kids went wild. After the game, each local player hosted a visiting player overnight—it’s too dangerous to return through the jungle at night. We spent the evening around a bonfire, telling stories and sharing another bottle of rum.
Elder Guna lady cooking plantain Football match between two native villages
Women's Power & Sacred Spirits
The next morning during breakfast, we heard a loud horn echo across the village. It was the village alarm, calling women to their weekly leadership meeting. In Guna tradition, women are considered holier and more powerful than men. They serve as decision-makers, gathering weekly with the Syla (chief) and shaman to discuss community matters.
Men are expected to work hard—hunting and gathering—while women manage the home, the children, and the community. Perhaps because of this reverence for femininity, transgender individuals are widely accepted in Guna society—unlike many other indigenous communities. Guna also have the highest rate of albinism in the world. Almost every family has an albino member, believed to be closer to the gods and spiritually gifted.
A strong Guna lady
A Wet and Wonderful Goodbye
We said our goodbyes and walked back to the canoe. The villagers gifted us a colorful bundle of bananas in various sizes and shades as a farewell token.
As soon as we exited the river and reached the open ocean, we spotted a massive black cloud heading our way. I asked Captain Alex, “Where are we going?” He pointed straight at the cloud and said, “Ahí mismo” (Right there). I asked, “Will we survive it?” He replied, “Sin duda, nada serio” (Without a doubt, nothing serious). I smiled and said, “I’m all in.”
The skies opened up and the rain poured harder than I’ve ever felt in my life. While others huddled under flimsy umbrellas, I lay back in the boat, arms open wide, letting the jungle storm soak me to the bone. I loved every second of it.
It was the perfect ending to a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
I can't wait to go back.
Contact me if you`d like to join me on a once in a lifetime experience in the jungle!
Riko.
