My name is Hani Tahboub. I was born under the unforgiving sun of the Bedouin deserts in Jordan, with Palestinian roots deep in my blood. My earliest memories are of dry heat, endless sands, and the vast silence of the desert.
Life, however, has a strange sense of humor. It took me to the Netherlands. I learned to eat raw herring and smoked paling, and to balance on thin blades over frozen canals. I survived the cold, grey European winters. But Amsterdam, with its endless crowds and suffocating concrete, eventually became too much.
So, I made a choice that many thought was sheer madness. I left the orderly streets of Europe and traded them for the wild, untamed waterways of Venezuela.
For over 30 years, the Orinoco Delta has been my home. I have traded the dry desert wind for the heavy, humid breath of the rainforest. The contrast is extreme. Here, the rivers are as dark as tea, the air is thick enough to swim in, and the jungle is a living, breathing wall of green that can swallow a man whole if he doesn't respect it.
Today, my daughter Geilyz runs the camp. She has taken the helm, which has finally given me the stillness to sit down and write.
There is a deafening silence in the outside world when it comes to this region. Reliable information about Venezuela, the Orinoco Delta, and the Warao indigenous people is scarce, often misunderstood, or simply nonexistent. This website and this blog are my attempt to break that silence.
Everything I write here is strictly my personal view. I will describe our excursions, the battles fought with massive river fish, and the quiet moments in the jungle. I will also write about hunting. I have walked alongside my Warao friends in the deep forest to watch them hunt—I have witnessed the silent precision of their tracking—but I have never participated in the act. I haven't hunted since I left the sands of Jordan.
I am not a scientist or a travel agent. I am just a man who traded the desert for the delta. These are my stories. Welcome to the jungle.