It was 9 am and my clothes were already sticking to my skin as we strolled down the cracked streets towards the riverbank. I needed to make one quick stop at the little money exchange kiosk at the end of the block. A man in a white t-shirt and jean shorts sat on a wooden chair with a crate propped up beside him. I needed more pesos, so I plopped down a crisp fifty-dollar American bill and a used looking twenty. He pushed the twenty back and pointed at the folded corner; damaged bills were not accepted. I was told this was a common request among rural exchanges.
I caught up with the rest of my study abroad group and jumped into our boat. We were finally leaving the city of Leticia and onto the Amazon portion of our trip. The boat was basic, built out of wood with a tarp roof and a single mo...
