Paul Rosolie: Uncontacted Tribes in the Amazon Jungle | Lex Fridman Podcast #489
These notes were generated by AI and may contain inaccuracies.
Standing on the beach, everyone waiting because an arrow could fly through your neck at any moment, people holding shotguns. Anthropologist calls out "Enimole," meaning "Brothers." Then screaming "Mashco! Mashco!" Women lift children and run into huts, dogs and chickens go nuts. Fear grips everyone. "Look there. He has a bow. He has a bow." Clan walking down the beach with seven-foot bows, hunched over, pointing at us, communicating: "Look at that one. Look, there's a gun there." Butterflies swirl off the beach. They can hit a spider monkey out of treetops at 40 meters, sneak up undetected. Arrow through body gives only a moment to realize before falling.
Footage never shown before, a world first. Conversation with Paul Rosolie, third time on podcast. Naturalist, explorer, writer dedicated to protecting Amazon rainforest. New book Jungle Keeper releasing soon—pre-order recommended. Tells intense stories from past years, building to epic recent events including extended encounter with non-contacted tribe. Book and audiobook great. Support at junglekeepers.org via donations, spreading word, or gala in New York on January 22nd. Mission to safeguard rainforest, worth fighting for. Amazon one of most special, beautiful places on Earth.
Aside: Traveled to Amazon with Paul before, adventure of lifetime with crazy twists. Recorded podcast in jungle (Episode 429). Disparate footage from journey, wants to compile into cohesive video. Difficult to organize chaotic footage. Loves raw vlog-style to celebrate people like Paul. Will keep trying.
Lex Fridman Podcast—support via sponsors, links in description.
Survived challenging time in jungle 1.5 years ago. Life more intense since. Saved 130,000 acres of rainforest, goal 200,000 more acres. Faces extreme danger from narcos, narco-traffickers, Cocaine Mafia in escalating drug war, illegal loggers, gold miners, recent encounter with uncontacted tribe.
Jungle Keeper opens with killing of two loggers by Mashco Piro warriors in August 2024. Paul had dramatic encounter with tribe two months later in October 2024.
Opening read: Far on western edge of Amazon in Peruvian jungle, loggers cut ancient ironwood (shihuahuaco), giant reaching 160 feet, over 1,000 years old (Paul found 1,200-year-old ones). Tree started as sapling before Spanish in Peru, before US, during Leonardo da Vinci, Renaissance, World Wars, grandparents' birth. Crashed down in August 2024, shaking earth felt by tribe. Loggers killed by Mashco Piro.
Thousands of clans of uncontacted peoples across Amazon basin living nomadic isolation, want to stay that way. Locals warned loggers not to enter territories. Outsiders dismiss warnings, think jungle legends exaggerated, go with shotguns. Nomadic civilization uses bamboo-tipped arrows, lives naked, has unknown medicines, hits spider monkey at 40 meters, sneaks undetected.
Showing Instagram-posted arrows: six-seven feet (more like seven feet), incredibly sharp bamboo cured over fire, cuts meat easily. Spear-like, shot with gigantic bow. Twisted fletching for spin, plant fiber strings, incredible craftsmanship. Warriors pictured.
Modern world with airplanes, cell phones coexists with people predating history.
Perplexity query: Technologies modern humans have that Mashco Piro do not—energy/power (electricity, grids, batteries, solar, motors), metals/materials (steel, aluminum, alloys, plastics, composites, glass, concrete), tools/machinery, infrastructure (roads, bridges, buildings), weapons of war beyond spears/arrows, modern medicine/biology. They have jungle medicines.
No to all that list. No metal forging/excavation. Peruvian anthropologist: Not even Stone Age—no stones. Don't know water freezes or boils (no clay pots, just bamboo/string). Simple life; camera is miracle. Like thousands of years ago.
Chainsaw sounds like demonic destructive force to them. Encounter takeaway: Communicated "Why are you cutting down the trees?" See outsiders as destroyers.
Encounter on river at western edge of Amazon, high tributary less trafficked, remained wild. Few went up even during 1990s mahogany boom. 20 years ago (Paul first there), uncontacted tribes like tall tales or Bigfoot. Peruvian government in 2006 called them myth.
Stories of people shot with arrows. Jungle Keepers protects 130,000 acres of this river—plants, animals, ancient trees, ecosystem, butterflies, surveys. Inadvertently caretakers for Mashco Piro isolation mandate.
In October, working with indigenous people: Turn loggers/gold miners into rangers with better jobs to protect forest. Remote community calls on satellite phone: "Tribes coming out. What do we do?" They were terrified.
Phone call mix of skepticism and urgency—wanted to keep heads down for land concessions. Decided if real, go now. Canceled meetings with police, landowner. Core team: JJ, Mohsin, Stéphane. Called Ignacio, hardcore ranger shot in head by arrow in 2019, barely survived.
Whole river knows. Two-day boat journey flexed to one night. Sacks of rice, tuna, dry bags, tents. Boat at 6:00 PM, rode through night. Paul at front with headlamp. Clear first hours, comet in sky. Then lightning, downpour till 8:00 AM. Star Wars rain, moths, hypothermia in tropics (80°F rain/wind/night). Used caiman eyes to navigate channel, jumped waterfalls. Arrived morning, howler monkeys calling.
Little naked children scared. Hug from Bacho. Tribe came yesterday, gone now. Collapsed, slept. Rained all day. That night searched beach—footprints only on balls of feet, fled as we arrived, listened. Anthropologist calls "Nomole" (brothers) in Yine language, "Come out, lay down arms, it's okay." Nothing happened.
Next morning 5:00 AM, prepping to leave for land concessions. Stefan stayed in town for paperwork/interviews (50+ years in Amazon, never seen them). Ignacio to Paul: "You'd be an idiot to leave. They're coming." Convinced to stay.
Mohsin, JJ shooting community (monkey eaters, fishermen). Paul working on laptop/book. Screaming "Mashco, Mashco!" Women/children to huts, dogs/chickens nuts. All past encounters violent.
Tribes survived via violence like Spartans/Comanches, first response to contact. Historical: Late 19th/early 20th century rubber barons' private armies violent encounters. 1600s-1700s colonial missionaries, then rubber barons' extraction/cruelty. Grandparents taught: Shoot first to survive.
In Paul's lifetime: Ignacio shot in head, friend Victor survived murder on beach, shot helpers with clothing/bananas. "Porcupining"—body with arrows sticking up. Even out of curiosity, like Teddy Roosevelt shooting birds.
No modern moral system, truly wild.
Ignacio: If see shooters, "wouldn't say anything, would kill as many as could." Hid in guard station peak from midday greenhouse heat, soaking mattress, deciding "probably die" better than "definitely die." Two hours terrified as they inspected items.
During encounter, Ignacio PTSD, breathing heavy, behind trees, "Look there. He has a bow." Clan of naked men down beach with seven-foot bows, hunched, pointing, communicating, butterflies swirling. 30-40 meters away, arrows reach 300 meters. Ignacio pulling Paul behind tree.
Paul afraid, with two best friends, no help, 26 people vs 50 visible tribesmen surrounding. Chills reliving, burned in memory. Stefan photographing, Mohsin videoing. Community loading shotguns. Anthropologist Romel only peaceful communicator (2013 beach talk via dialect overlap). Butterflies up as approaching.
There are men on the other side of the river with guns looking back towards the jungle because they knew they were being surrounded. This is the story of someone's uncle, brother, or cousin happening in broad daylight. They're walking out onto the beach like the first time seeing dinosaurs in Jurassic Park.
Walking on a knife's edge: fascinating yet extremely dangerous. Two approaches: 'If I die, I die. I'm going to take some good pictures,' which was their mission as directors of Jungle Keepers. They work with the community to ensure their lifestyle continues. The indigenous community deals with raiders stealing stuff, women, and killing hunters. Now the uncontacted are coming out, wanting them to see and document it.
Those guys were shooting seriously. Mohsin's wife and Paul joked, 'If the tribe ever comes out, you stand in front of him, take the arrow. He has kids.' They strategically positioned: 'You, down. You cannot get killed.' Planning safety from arrows, running to the river, jumping in with bag containing tuna and flashlight. Days upriver if floating down.
Mashco-Piro thinking the same. They're initiating contact, coming out of the jungle confronting them, giving peace a chance, trying peaceful contact first. No violent element sensed initially, but caution in their emergence: fear visible as they hunched over with bows ready.
Romel stood closest at the river's edge, like shirts versus skins, two tribes with a thousand years of civilization between. Romel said, 'Put down your bows and we can talk,' repeating 'Namole, Namole'—'brothers' in a language they understand. They refer to themselves as the Namoles (brothers). Anthropologists post-event: Piro group, Mashco means 'wild Piros.' Self-identity: Namoles.
Shredded gigantic warriors with seven-foot arrows. First, offer peace: piled canoe with plantains, endless green bananas. Anthropologist walked canoe out in dry season (river 3-4 feet deep), pushed towards them. They rushed, grabbed bananas fighting and yelling, pushed boat back.
He asked, 'Where have you come from? What do you want? Who's your leader?' They talked at once like a flock of birds. No women visible.
Moment of panic: noise behind, shotguns swung, Mohsin went down, Paul ran to check for attack. Women of the tribe silently pulling yucca, ruining farm behind while men talked at river. Raiding during diversion. Completely surrounded, outnumbered five to one at least. Could have murdered all easily.
They didn't know depth of backup. Asked, 'How do we tell good guys from bad guys?' All outsiders same. Who cuts trees? Big trees offensive on religious level, like killing gods. Spirituality to trees. 'Why destroy our home?'
Uncontacted tribes represent deep jungle; if threatened, jungle threatened. Human voice of jungle. Demanding: clapping, waving, 'Send more bananas.' Second boat with plantains and rope. They love rope: some homemade brown/reddish, some pillaged modern nylon paracord as belts. Some might have murdered loggers months before.
Romel said this group called him 'Grandfather,' but didn't know these; first contact. Ages 12 to banged-up 40s, no old people, no women. Particular clan never contacted before.
Communication: clapping, yelling. No single leader speaking. Passed through anthropologists and ethicists: okay to talk? Misconceptions lead to unwanted contact. They're speaking out: 'Stop cutting trees. Leave us alone.' Advocating requires footage to protect river, then leave alone.
World first footage: previously only blurry cellphone images from 100m. Used 800mm with 2X teleconverter, R5s. Thousands of butterflies. Way they move, point, bow ready. Didn't know cameras there. Looking back for women in farm. Shotgun for farm, not effective.
Coming closer, laying down bows, understanding. Warriors ready for violence initially, then relaxed, smiling. One seemed leadership, did most talking. Different hand gestures, holding hand to face. Red/yellow smeared on faces. Two dominant guys, gesturing a lot. Desperation, hungry, fighting over bananas immediately.
After several boatloads of bananas/sugarcane, calmed. Romel: 'We've given what you asked. We don't cut trees, indigenous, not loggers.' Ignacio danced, they danced, human joking moment. Gave shirt, pants—Ignacio in underwear. JungleKeeper shirt with logo over warrior's shoulder, upgrading status.
Romel: tribe asking about Paul (taller, big shoulders, looks like warrior). 'Come forward, show palms.' Paul held up hands, they sang back, raised hands.
Watched them walk off with goods. Next day downriver, community: now understand fear, duty to protect from them, figure their future (farming?).
Video: George in blue shirt confident, 'Don't be scared.' Next morning back in town, learned 200 tribe ran out at boat upriver, fired arrows. All hid, George driving fast, arrow through above scapula to belly button. Medevacked, helicopter, survived. Boat covered in blood.
Gave sugarcane/bananas, invited back. What happened? Peace to attack. Maybe hid women (not allowed to see?), spooked by boats/motors around bend defensively.
Two had identical necklace: Brazil nut casing with animal teeth, grapefruit-sized container/totem on tree fiber, Brazil nut sacks. Machete: raided, swung at butterflies. Bacho: 'Drop the machete,' warrior: 'Come get it.' They know machetes, raids for them—power of sharpened metal.
Animal calls for commands: Capuchin, Tinamou. Rangers found Nomole trail, Ignacio whistled, answered but left. Questions: old people? Marriage/reproduction? Rescued children forget past, value secrecy.
Brutality: eating monkeys/turtles, hungry, wife/baby stolen, botflies. No gear. Spirituality/ideology unifies, origin stories, guesses about outside world.
Aperture into history. Myths of Paul: great gringo/monster. Now protecting them in 130,000 acres. Ensure no contact, no narcos/machine guns, no hippie gringos.
How much land they move in within 130,000 acres
Most of the additional 200,000 acres they're trying to protect is territory belonging to the uncontacted tribes. Landowners already own these forests and will sell to logging companies if not bought first. Third-generation jungle landowners living in cities contract narcos, loggers, or miners, getting little money; these intruders kill locals with shotguns, machine guns, and introduce germs.
All money raised protects deep jungle by buying land from owners to prevent logging, allowing natural ecosystem recovery if logged or flourishing if intact.
This is the last great jungle, the last endless forest, massively intact with ancient forests where trees like shihuahuaco host thousands of species—Avatar on Earth. Sweat from skin rains down and can be drunk from the river; it's a chemical physical reality, one of the last untouched places.
Discovery revealed not just butterflies, monkeys, jaguars, trees, but a human culture facing extermination without protection. Protecting the river undoes past injustices against indigenous cultures worldwide by letting them live uncontacted or contact if they choose, for another 10,000 years.
Protect unique places like Yellowstone, Yosemite, sequoias. This 300,000-acre watershed (already 130,000 acres protected) has global historic significance; story plays out in next 18 months. Loggers become rangers; thousands worldwide donate $5-$1000/month to employ locals, including Nomoles and indigenous people as park rangers so kids don't eat monkeys.
Treehouse access is minimal—like two blades of grass on a football field—allowing sharing without harm. Podcast exposure protected spider monkeys, jaguars, giant anteaters, ancient trees.
"Junglekeepers.org"
Gala in New York end of January.
First conversation surged support, enabling expansion, major/small donors trusting Lex's endorsement. Need competent teams like Stefan (runs/organizes efficiently in complex, lawless jungle) and JJ (local indigenous perspective). Systems connect donors to ranger program (shirts, tuna); Paul admits he's a caveman good at machete-fishing, not organization.
Primary foods: monkeys, turtles, turtle eggs, small game like paca (beagle-sized rodent), capybaras, tapir. Don't fish much. Indigenous trackers/rangers find camps, thatch beach structures, bones, turtle shells (used as bowls), destroyed ceramic bowl post-interaction.
Make fire despite wet conditions (hard even for experts); cook meat for parasites. Little excess berries/nuts/fruits (monkeys, birds, bats eat first; fruits ripen to advertise for seed dispersal).
Picture in book: 6-year-old Dira on Los Piedras eating monkey for lunch (looks like cannibalism due to human-like eyes/form). Babysitting her; parents away. She pulls monkey head, asks help; Paul pulls ear with teeth, they share. Video: favorite food "monkey," not cake. Pulls lips off grilled head in static agony.
Millions eat primate bushmeat in Africa, Latin America, Asia. Tastes good if prepared right, but jungle method (over fire) poor even for chicken.
Still processing; felt like voice of jungle speaking. No separation between humans/nature—we're part of it. They depend 100%; gives perspective on human origins, privilege of technology (airplanes, pictures as miracles requiring rubber, metal, dye, springs).
They use oral tradition only, like ancestors. Returning to fast world, fixates on basics like drinking puddles.
Both worlds magical: jungle's biological majesty; technology's (pen, computer, light bulb). Humans achieved mind-blowing feats from ground elements.
"Given all the death and destruction I've witnessed, it would be easy to slip into the popular anti-human narrative that we are a plague on the planet and there's nothing that can be done, but my career in conservation has given me a glimpse into an alternate narrative. I've met people who are proving more and more that something can be done. I'm talking about real heroes, people who have dedicated their lives to redeeming the evil that is capable of being waged by the human soul, people who are guarding the flame amidst the storm, proving every day what so many have forgotten. There is still hope."
Speaks against cynicism/apathy; humans with technology can do good.
"The greatest danger to our future is apathy." — Jane Goodall
Jane Goodall passed October 1st; opened eyes to world's beauty.
Parents read Lord of the Rings, Sherlock Holmes, Jane Goodall nightly despite dyslexia. Saw her speak at NYU; gave manila envelope with chapters "Lulu the Giant Anteater" (Mother of God) and anaconda-catching with JJ, Pico. Asked for endorsement despite feeling like a loser.
48 hours later: endorsed once publisher found. Publishers rejected until HarperCollins accepted due to her; led to Mother of God, Junglekeepers. Her compassion launched career, protecting thousands of acres/heartbeats.
She did this for everyone; now Paul has responsibility to inspire youth similarly. Follows her: stops for fans wanting conservation jobs, as she guarded hope against apathy/poison of darkness with conviction/passion/fire.
Inbox full from Finland, Spain, Georgia: "How do I get your job?" Throw yourself headfirst into adventure—just do it. No PhD; failed high school, took unmatriculated classes, went to jungle with JJ for sheer adventure. Less qualified people live dream lives; Paul is poster child.
Paul Rosolie pursued conservation for the sheer love of it for almost a decade before anything surfaced. There was no established path—no schooling or training leading to becoming a conservation biologist. He was told he couldn't be one without grades, a PhD, or family money, and that he couldn't protect rainforests. He decided selfishly to just see it, got trained by indigenous people, and progressed like starting as a dishwasher in a restaurant: eventually restocking, managing, and starting his own. You have to sweat and bleed; you can't just search it on a computer.
Especially if you fall in love with the journey, the path is full of difficult periods with pain and suffering. Rosolie has a post about advising kids messaging him on how to do what he does:
How honest can I be? What do I tell these kids who message me asking how they can do what I do? It's not David versus Goliath. There's no sword or sling that can hold back a dragon this big. You're going against the current of global economic entropy and human apathy. Swimming against the current is tiring, a great way to drown. Every day we don't win, we lose, and when we do, worlds burn. The more you know, the more it bleeds. The heartbeats all stop when the flames come through. Constellations of species turn to ghosts, and we're the only ones saving them. Cupped our hands around a candle in the howling darkness.
People want inspiration and to hear we're winning, but right now we're getting slaughtered—at the end game. Thoughts and prayers won't stop a chainsaw; the motor needs gasoline or we drown. Take warm light from helpers, not bothered by those who could buy a planet but claim to care. As a kid you'd rather be Aragorn than carry the ring and pay the cost. > Whatever it takes, whatever it takes. It's that time of year again. Here come the flames.
They've watched a lot of forest burn and pulled animals from flames. He wrote that during heavy losses: no funding, miners, months alone in jungle, huge invasion burning the whole side of the river—forest he loved with known animals, gone forever. They live through this weekly, day-to-day. Taking responsibility means sleeping thinking if they don't do it, worlds burn. Sadness surrounds happy moments: how to go to a party or sleep when failure means millennium trees die, and they're the only protectors. Black scorched earth silences the cacophony of life into horrible, violent silence—it makes you sick. They're practically doing it, black and white.
Advice to young people: it's not easy. When they ask how to get his job, he says you don't want it—with botflies, dengue, no normal life. Lived out of a backpack 20 years, ate monkey faces when no other food, alone on boat with broken motor, sleeping under leaves in rain. Home, people have jobs, kids, happiness, question what he's doing. Now after rises, falls, wins, failures, recent rolling success protecting 130,000 acres, moment of hope like in 300 with Leonidas before slaughter. A dear person said if it happened harder, it would have killed him; easier, not so divine.
Loggers were local, simple people with families needing work for $30/day in harsh environments—not evil. Rosolie and JJ would approach, share beer or meal, ask about family, then hire them. They'd drone clearings, get intel, bring to police. Jungle Keepers supports police logistically (boats, gasoline) as Peruvian government struggles with Amazonia resources, three days from civilization.
March, hours upriver, flew drone over big new clearing with huts. People ran to boats, chased them (their 60hp vs. narcos' 40hp). Guests (potential funders) scared, like Pirates of the Caribbean. Crashed drone to escape. JJ realized it was bad. Found police camp, armed up with ski masks, called support. Narcos turned back when seeing guns.
Shook police friend's hand, thanked him. That night, call from Stefan: friend shot in chest with shotgun while unloading boat—dead. Had to hide grief, smile at dinner with guests.
Threat escalated: narcos realized wilderness for impunity, no police. They got mad at drone. Police confirmed narcos, serious drug mafia.
Rosolie in New York for donors. JJ delayed return; driver Percy sent back alone. Tree across single-lane jungle road, men with guns pulled him out: "Where's JJ? ¿Donde está el gringo volador?" Took phone, sent message: missed this time, get you next time. JJ called howling in adrenaline. Changed everything—now drug war on river, can't approach people, they're hunting them knowing names.
Police intercepted phone: WhatsApp chat said if you see JJ or gringo, kill them, rewarded. Hit out on both. Can't walk/swim/drive freely; always look over shoulder. Trained with pistol useless—they strike when least expecting (cafe, broken motor). On top of ecosystem weight, now hunted.
Directed at Rosolie and JJ. Fear: every call "Did something happen to JJ?" Dreams of being shot. JJ's terrified shout "They almost got us!" Affected deeply. Swimming in river, boat around bend—run, dive, hide? No gun nearby. Not like anaconda risk; people want to kill you. Saw young friend's body after three days floating—viscerally terrifying. Hands sweat even now. Daytalk tough, but 4AM wake sweating, heart racing—sinks into subconscious. Not what they signed up for; unprepared for violence scale.
Recent call from JJ at 9PM jackhammered heart—another loss?
Twist unrelated to rainforest fight, but pristine remoteness enables airstrips, lawless. Only place narcos operate with impunity; saw Jungle Keepers helping police, aimed to cut head off snake. Examples: Chico Mendes, Dorothy Stang—huge list of assassinated Amazon environmental defenders yearly. Shoot leaders to end resistance.
Working closely with Peruvian government/police—not corrupt, good people protecting citizens from narcos bringing human trafficking (steal indigenous girls for prostitutes). Reports narcos contacted uncontacted tribes, will mow them down with machine guns.
Posted video in rain: endgame. New road from north jumping ancient forest to new area. Stefan's map shows 130,000 acres light green protected area, metastasizing roads. Police fighting along northern boundary—full drug war. One post raised $150,000 in 48 hours, bought concession stopping that road. Now threats from further north.
Adventure like Mission: Impossible monthly—rangers patrol with donor support. Protected land (light green): police arrest intruders instantly. Gray areas: narcos plant papaya hiding cocaine, build case takes time, they kill officers. Two more police boats could solve.
Playing defense, sustaining losses. Need donor program explode: 50,000 donors, $20 million for rest of corridor. Or one Batman donor gives $20 million, names park, done tomorrow, make documentary. Now begging for change to buy bullets. Narcos distributed network pretending farmers, plant cocaine slowly, build airstrips.
Narcos subsidize the poorest people, directing them up rivers to clear land for illegal farms with cash, gasoline, and chainsaws. When these settlers establish farms, narcos establish safe houses, leveraging prior aid to coerce labor. Safe houses are scattered throughout the jungle for bosses to collect produce. Police busted a narco operation deep in the jungle, involving foot hikes with sacks to ancient forests.
Airstrips are hidden under the rainforest canopy (150-160 feet tall), where trees meet overhead, concealing them from satellites and planes. Bush pilots duck under the canopy, land, load up, and fly out—expert maneuvers making detection almost impossible.
Counter-efforts involve an arms race. Drone programs include a 16-foot solar-powered glider drone using thermals, recharging itself to fly for two weeks, providing near real-time canopy disturbance imagery as a first-alert system. However, response requires two-day boat expeditions, and local police hesitate on multi-day jungle missions facing gunfire.
Global cocaine industry is a multi-thousand-ton, multi-billion-dollar operation fueled by money and brutality. Produced in Colombia, Peru, Bolivia, moved north and east through Americas, Caribbean, Atlantic to markets. ~25 million cocaine users worldwide create demand.
Paul climbed the tallest tree (~160 feet, base as big as the room, massive buttress roots) after 18 years of eyeing it, training as a rock climber. Trunk vertical for 70 feet before branches; climbed a vine gorilla-style (no shirt, no shoes, back strength) at 4 AM with J.J. belaying. Placed webbing and carabiners every 30 feet—strength climb, no rest, extremely exhausting; clinging hurts, toes smeared on bark.
Risks: trad climbing fall doubles distance (30 ft up = 60 ft fall, head smacks tree); unknown wasp nests, venomous snakes. Took over an hour to reach branches (each thick as minivan, mature oak size). Traversed vines to crown, called down to J.J. 85 feet below. Reached 120 feet in pre-dawn, jungle waking: howler monkeys, macaws chirping.
Sunrise lifted mist off canopy, revealing the Mist River—invisible river above Amazon with more moisture flow than the river itself. Flowed over canopy in golden rays; deep blue in troughs, electrified gold over taller trees; birds flew through currents. Monkeys below looked confused. Felt like seeing God; intense beauty, tears, wanted to share with world, J.J., mother. Felt like gift of the tree; risked death alone with J.J.
"Now, in the branches of the greatest tree in the jungle, I watched as the Mist River caught the morning rays, illuminating golden currents, swirling as it rushed over the canopy like a stream from heaven. In the troughs and basins in lower areas, the river was deep blue. But then, as it flowed up and over the taller trees, slow rapids washing over the canopy, the Mist River became ignited, electrified in the gold magnificence of the sunlight. Scores of birds flew up, in and out of the churning currents. The life and breath of the Amazon was flowing from north to south along the basins of Las Piedras over the jungle. My God. My God. I thought of everyone I loved, of every creature contained in the leafy distance. The jungle itself was like a great being, a monstrous leviathan of warm green might. I wanted to call down to JJ and tell him to find a way up. I wanted my mother to see it. I wanted the world to see it. The light filled my eyes, and I found myself wiping away tears."
Early work: 6 hours daily macaw research pre-dawn by river, observing screaming, bickering (communication), affection sounds (preening, nuzzling), calls for others/joining flights. Learn macaw language.
Macaws monogamous; nest in ancient ironwood trees (500+ years, car-thickness+; branch falls create hollows). Limited nest sites: only 17-20% reproduce yearly, slow replacement rate. Ecotourism boosts local jobs (guides, cooks); macaws draw visitors as flying rainbows over canopy. From high branches, hear wind in feathers as they fly under, glance over shoulder.
Evoke dinosaur-era wildness: savage canopy horizon, no humans.
Studied Eunectes murinus (lowland green anaconda, largest/heaviest snake). Caught biggest ever: ~19-20 feet, mid-shed (blue eyes, scale over eyes turns blue). Head bigger than Great Dane's. 10 people lifted/measured her; flexing flung them side-to-side. Mouth opened to reach back; if purchase, wraps/crushed like bag of chips (guts out like crushed mouse).
Millie just wanted release down stream. Anacondas: ambush predators; at size, apex, prefer flight over fight, not food mode on humans. Calm handler keeps snake calm. Caught 90+ anacondas; big females (20-26 ft, 4-5 handled) Leviathan-like, non-aggressive. Smaller ones snappy. One untackleable at Floating Forest (bigger than hands).
Team essential; solo at night = suicide (continuous wrapping, slow powerful squeeze). Big females reliable prey in secluded swamps, decades old.
Killpopper007: "Anacondas are ambush predators. If you approach them, they will usually try to flee and will not register you as food. There's other reasons too... They're pretty much apex at that size, so their fear isn't as prominent. He was calm, so the snake was calm. It's insane to do and still risky, but he might actually be the most qualified anaconda handler on Planet Earth. Paul is one interesting cat."
Recurved teeth hard to detach, head to danger risky. Paul radiates calm, senses animals (caiman, crocodiles); becomes non-threat in ecosystem.
Elephants: close via language/boundary respect (mock charges). But hands around anaconda neck = death (anaconda handcuffs, multi-wrap squeeze to goop; neutralizes threat).
Santiago's story: glowing eyes by fire, told Pico of horned anaconda (~36 feet) on blackwater stream in Floating Forest—place to shed doubts/skepticism.
Paul initially skeptical (no horned anacondas), stood up dismissing. Learned: indigenous never wrong (e.g., uncontacted tribes). Recent: worker claimed spiked green snake in water tank; Paul mocked (knows all species). Found Helicops water snake with algae spikes (perpendicular when still, collapse when moving)—not wrong.
Thus, horned anaconda claims (multiple witnesses) warrant expedition. Post-uncontacted tribe emergence, open to anything (e.g., giant ground sloths, T. rex).
Lex Fridman mentions a conversation with Michael Levin at Tufts University, a biologist who creates biological life forms in the lab and studies unconventional intelligences on Earth, highlighting intricacies of biological systems. The floating forest is a soup of organisms with giant snakes and isolated ecosystems. Tepuis, like the Venezuelan cliff jungles with straight walls around Angel Falls in the movie Up, feature allopatric speciation where isolated communities diverge. The floating forest has unique ecosystems with animals on grassy islands and palm tree tops. Beneath the rafts is a nightmare soup with unidentified insects and lizards. Decay is minimal due to low oxygen. Scientists and hydrologists brought there are baffled by its formation and the creatures living under it.
Big anacondas are truly the apex, unbothered and not using their power unnecessarily. Wild ones have steel-cable-like muscles from constant flexing, unlike soft captive ones. Even when chilling, their power is evident. Their strikes are telegraphed like a haymaker from a big fat guy, making it possible to duck or catch, usually.
Paul Rosolie plays with snakes a lot, sensing no fear, which they detect. Snakes are like a dangerous highway you can drive safely on if you know what you're doing. With non-venomous small snakes, he lets them freak out until they calm in his hands. Snakes lack camaraderie, unlike whales, monkeys, elephants that sense helpful intent and relax.
Paul recounts an Instagram video where a spider monkey was drowning in a rushing river at 7 AM. JJ spotted her struggling in whirlpools and currents, head going under. Despite animal rights arguments to let nature take its course, she needed help. Paul jumped in with a paddle, speaking broken spider monkey language learned from raising orphans whose mothers were shot by poachers. Orphans curl up on necks, making sounds like "Oh, oh, oh, oh." She initially smacked the paddle away, terrified, but after going under again and hearing the sounds, she grabbed it with her tail and hand, allowing Paul to lift her out gently. She made a "Whoa! Guh!" sound, accepted help, looked confused but connected via eye contact. On shore, she jumped off and ran into the forest.
Spider monkeys are highly socially intelligent, understanding connections like humans saving a drowning person. Paul's broken language signaled "you're in network," like a foreigner saying "Helping, helping." Orphans prioritize body warmth and connection over food, wrapping tails and arms around necks, hugging like with mothers. They huddle in rain or cold, pulling leaves together, very tactile and loving, holding babies.
On a trail setting a camera trap, a jaguar walked by casually, kicking leaves, mouth open, making eye contact with bottom teeth out, saying "'Sup?" without breaking stride. Paul froze, sweating from the beauty and power—bright yellow, teeth, muscles. He radiated non-threat, smelling like an animal from river showers without deodorant or shampoo. Humans smell foreign and scary to animals with superior senses due to products like deodorant, conditioner, detergents.
Standing alone with a wild tiger in India, its back like four jaguars, bigger than expected with dinner-plate paws. The tiger avoided eye contact, looking around as if Paul was insignificant as a stick or sparrow, insulting him profoundly. Like fighters squaring up without looking, pretending the other isn't there. Paul felt profound insignificance from this god-like animal.
Tigers and polar bears top the rock-paper-scissors of land predators. Tigers can't be outrun, outclimbed, or escaped by car; even a 9mm won't stop one determined to get you. Polar bears are scary, especially on ice.
Small things like hornet nests can kill via anaphylactic shock. Jungle density means one machete whack to escape, but vines trip you onto black-spiked trees, leading to stings and death. Open wounds from spikes cause infections, the biggest danger. No human-directed violent jaguars in their Amazon region; mosquitoes are worse. Venomous snakes like an 11-foot bushmaster just warn "Don't make me do it."
Trying to safely watch elephants across a 12-foot deep stream, Paul hit a cement wall behind a harassed male elephant. It turned with a "What the fuck?" look, smacked a tree, and charged to kill—not a mock charge. Paul ditched his backpack, zigzagged through woods amid tree-shattering pursuit, bushes, vines. Threw himself off a cliff into the stream; elephant nearly fell in, threw a stick that smacked nearby. Paul gave it the finger, alive. Nothing like an elephant.
Paul enjoyed Lex's podcast with the dinosaur expert noting babies learn elephant, giraffe, T-Rex alongside banana, water, sky blue—initial concepts. T-Rex and Stegosaurus didn't coexist, breaking hearts over imagined battles.
Paul suggests showing Lex wild African jungle elephants or a protective boat trip down mapped Amazon rivers through no-human zones with JJ, enjoyable not survival. Rivers connect the story from mountains.
Paul journals daily for accountability, tracking hopes, dreams, mundane moments like cooking with mother or dog walks, forgotten otherwise. Piles of notebooks capture cool stories, etchings of extinct tree leaves, remarkable events for memory or writing. Facts preserved aid recall. Doesn't follow Stephen King's daily pages; writes when inspired, brain to paper to laptop. Starts with intense moments, carpe diem, references notebook pages.
Writing like sculpting: make clay first by getting story out with pen, outline if needed. Inspired by great (and bad) storytellers who hook, pace info perfectly. Then dozens of editing passes for details—where writing sucks. Never finishing a book that way again.
Paul Rosolie describes his improved writing process after the demanding experience of his last book, where he hiked ten hours a day, dealt with narcotraffickers, and edited at night. Now, he writes chapters as remarkable events happen, edits them, and sends them to his sister, an expert editor immersed in literature. She marks them up with feedback. He sets them aside, so future books start with ready material instead of 300,000 words from scratch.
Upcoming books include Mother of God, Jungle Keeper, and Endgame, covering recent events. Right before Lex's visit, Paul and JJ explored the back end behind their river, a lawless area ten times worse than theirs, like Amazonian No Country for Old Men or Sicario. It involves oil companies, missionaries, and newly contacted tribes like the Nahua, small people recently pulled from the forest, standing with bows and arrows amid brutality.
JJ and Paul felt unsafe at a river port eight days upriver. Locals eyed their camera, watch, clothing, and backpack, calculating if killing them would be inconvenient. They decided not to camp there. A Nahua man asked JJ for food; JJ explained money with coins, which worked, but then 60 half-naked Nahua with bows swarmed him, hands out. That chapter will be called River of the Dolphin Fuckers because multiple locals warned that dolphins will pull you under if you fuck one.
The lesson we learned in the jungle: horned anacondas, believe 'em.
Paul draws from Cormac McCarthy, Anthony Bourdain, and Hemingway. He sometimes flexes with flowery metaphors but finds modern readers prefer straightforward storytelling like Bourdain's: "We found ourselves on the side of this river and we knew we were in danger." Hemingway's minimalism packs power through spacing and silences, as in For Whom the Bell Tolls: "The air was crisp, and the water was sweet, and the wine was good, and the afternoon was warm."
Paul detects ChatGPT in messages instantly. AI generates well but lacks something indefinable, like F. Scott Fitzgerald's crystalline human moments, e.g., a scream where the voice wobbles and cracks at its highest register. AI can mimic styles, like The Jungle Book as McCarthy, but humans sense the difference. As AI floods content, human art, literature, and authentic interactions will become more valuable, forcing raw, real connections. Movies are too polished; independent, risky films are needed.
Reference to Dead Poets Society scene where Robin Williams rips out the page graphing poetry's quality (subject x accuracy) and makes students scream descriptions, emphasizing messiness over formulas. Robin Williams exemplifies complicated beauty; his suicide despite bringing joy is scary, highlighting life's rollercoaster and mental illness.
Paul's friend Gleb, as a kid in NYC, asked Robin Williams for an autograph without paper. Robin waited despite his irate manager, signed a diner napkin with a smile and wink.
You can bring a lot of joy to the world. Never forget that. All those little interactions.
Jane Goodall: You don't realize how much daily actions matter; to those around you (kids, parents, partner), you are their entire life experience. Add magic: surprise kids, curate experiences like Vinnie waking his daughter for rooftop stargazing with candle, warm tea.
Dax saved Paul's life, built a fortune, then used it for good via Age of Union. Supports Junglekeepers, Sea Shepherd, Jane Goodall, sea turtles, Indonesian orangutans, Congo, Sumatra. Wrote Echoes from Eden, signed: "Thank you, brother, for your love of the wild. This book is about the heroes fighting on the front line for nature. Together we can protect Earth's last wild places. Speak soon, Dax." Book covers conservation strategies' differences.
Paul quit conservation during COVID, divorce at 32, no job; JJ's mom, shaman Don Ignacio had COVID; Pico's leg issue; loggers rampant. Called Mohsin: "I quit." Four days in depression, then Dax called with 10-year Junglekeepers commitment after reviewing budgets. Not just money (tuna cans, gasoline, shoes) but belief. Dax visited, saw progress from mess to systems, ranger teams, boats, donor program, annual reports.
Having someone like Dax in your corner is a miracle.
Life events sound like bad writing (deus ex machina saves), but it's a good life.
Dan (@lifewithdan on Instagram), wildlife photographer, joined after first podcast, came on Tamandua Expedition. Boat broke; Paul helped. Dan's exceptional talent led to collaboration: drone shots of Paul in giant tree, tracking white-winged sparrow with 800mm lens, emerald tree boa in sideways dawn light, macaws exploding off clay lick. Requires patience, discipline, hiking with gear, fogged lenses.
Protect 130,000 acres now, aim for 300,000 in 1.5 years for tidal wave protection, documentary on wildest place on Earth. Then: kids, PhD, teach conservationists worldwide, expeditions, books, treehouse visits for rescued animals (river monkey, toucan Lucas, giant anteater). Transition from Blood Diamond intensity to Indiana Jones-style professor. Pressure like carrying Lord of the Rings ring is exhausting; excited for security.
Lex thanks Paul for his mission; third podcast, more to come. Paul thanks Lex: first conversation brought people, lifted him from despair.
Paul responds humorously to a mention, saying, "The Lex fucking Fridman podcast?" He credits Lex with changing the narrative and making this a reality. Lex encourages everyone to pre-order The Jungle Keeper, the book, available everywhere, and to donate on junglekeepers.org. He emphasizes that this is an important mission led by an ultra-competent team to protect a beautiful part of the world. Lex thanks Paul for the conversation and suggests they go eat. Paul responds, "Thank you, brother."
Lex thanks listeners for the conversation with Paul Rosolie. He directs them to check out sponsors in the description, links to contact him, ask questions, and give feedback. He expresses gratitude for support, love, and listening, hoping to see them next time.
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