Alright, let’s talk about this whole “jungle confidence course” idea. Most folks picture some hardcore training, maybe swinging on vines, learning to survive with just a knife. Sounds pretty intense, right? Like something out of a movie.
My So-Called Jungle Confidence Building
Well, the experience I stumbled into wasn’t quite like that. It wasn’t advertised as a “course” at all, more like a… an opportunity that came up when I was really at a loose end. My previous project, a small eco-tourism setup I’d poured my heart into, had just gone bust. Funds dried up, partners bailed. I was back at square one, feeling pretty low, honestly.
A guy I knew, more of an acquaintance really, heard I was looking for something, anything. He was involved in setting up a remote research camp deep in a forested area. He said, “We need people to help blaze some new trails, map out some zones. It’s tough work, basic living, but you’ll be out in nature.” Sounded better than moping around.
So, I packed my old rucksack, not with fancy survival gear, but with sturdy boots, a good machete I already owned, and a ton of mosquito repellent. The first few days were just about getting there. We travelled by a rickety bus, then a long boat, and finally, we started trekking for what felt like forever.
The “confidence” part? It wasn’t about learning to make fire with sticks under pressure. It was about these things:
- Getting up every single day when every muscle ached.
- Dealing with the constant damp, the insects, the sheer monotony of clearing undergrowth.
- Figuring out how to work with a small, sometimes grumpy, group of people in close quarters for weeks.
- Learning to trust my own footing on slippery, uneven ground, hour after hour.
- Realizing I could actually handle being uncomfortable and isolated for way longer than I thought.
There were no instructors barking orders, no certificates at the end. One day, our main task was to locate a specific watershed. We got lost. Not dangerously lost, but lost enough that we wasted half a day. Tempers flared. That evening, sitting around a smoky fire, nobody said much. But the next morning, we just got on with it. We re-checked our rudimentary map, debated, and then we set off again. We found the watershed by lunchtime.
I remember one particular afternoon, I was scouting ahead alone, just trying to find the easiest path through a dense patch of bamboo. It was hot, I was tired, and I slipped, gashing my arm. Nothing too serious, but it bled a lot. My first instinct was panic. But then, I just sort of… handled it. I used my water to clean it as best I could, wrapped it with a strip of cloth from my bag, and kept going. It wasn’t a dramatic survival moment, it was just… doing what needed to be done.
When I eventually left that place, I didn’t feel like a jungle hero. I was mostly just tired and really looking forward to a proper shower. But something had shifted. It wasn’t about newfound “skills” in the traditional sense. It was more a quiet understanding that I could endure more than I thought, that I could navigate tricky situations – both physical and interpersonal – without falling apart. That, for me, was the real confidence gained. Not from a course, but from just doing the hard, unglamorous work, day in and day out, in a place that didn’t offer any shortcuts.
