Palm fronds drifted past the boat as our ferryman, known only as El Gato to me, guided us gently around mini-whirlpools in the brown river. El Gato hummed to himself, the only noise audible over the water’s rush. We drifted down the winding river, advancing deeper into the Amazon Rainforest. The morning fog dissipated to reveal the small Peruvian pueblo where three leaders had recently been charged for kidnapping an expat. When the boat docked on the sand bar it sank in: I was in way over my head.