Water spills over the sides of our canoe as Deomar plunges his oar into the river. We lurch forward, riding low in the dark waters under the light of the full moon.
I’m sitting cross-legged on the wooden floorboards, clutching my boom microphone, a sound recorder strapped to my chest. Miguel, my partner, perches on the edge of a wooden seat, filming Deomar in the bow. Deomar’s wife Mariluz is in