The agricultural frontier state of Rondonia in Brazil is a byword for deforestation in the Amazon jungle, much of which has been cleared in the northwestern state for cash crops and a cattle herd that has grown to 12 million head.
There are no toy stores or electronics shops in Brasiléia, a city in Brazil's northwestern Amazonian state of Acre. To buy toys or computer items, the city's 20,000 inhabitants have to go to neighbouring Cobija, across the border in Bolivia.
"Put yourself in God's hands," his mother told him just before she died. Only later did he understand that as she was dying of kidney failure, she was urging him to continue her work as a Catholic evangelist.
Acre, the small Brazilian state that is a symbol of the struggle to preserve the Amazon rainforest, is facing the challenge of ensuring that the development ushered in by two paved roads that will link the state to both the Atlantic and the Pacific oceans will be sustainable.
The Zolinger family, a typical example of those who migrated from southern Brazil to the Amazon in search of land and fortune, now has a second chance in the lumber industry, after contributing to the devastation of the forests in Rondônia state, where they settled in 1979.
Construction workers are fighting the clock to finish the last stretch of the Southern Inter-Oceanic Highway, in southeastern Peru, apparently unaware that about 100 kilometres of this road connecting to Brazil will be covered by water once the Inambari hydroelectric dam is built nearby.
In southeastern Peru, a message is circulating that has left some dubious, and others hopeful: "The Inambari hydroelectric dam will end illegal mining and coca crops, and bring development and jobs."
"Better 'dendê' than cattle," says Violeta dos Reis, who cooks and serves meals in the small eatery she runs with her husband in the community of Arauaí in Brazil's northern Amazon jungle. In this rural area, a new world is opening up for poor farmers.
Every year, more than a million Amazonian turtle eggs do not make it to the hatching period, nor do they serve as food for humans in the Tabuleiro de Embaubal, a series of beaches along the final stretch of Brazil's Xingú River.
Seen from up high, the route to Puente Inambari looks like a green serpent -- long, robust and sinuous. The Amazon jungle that dominates this landscape will be underwater if one of the largest hydroelectric dams in Peru (and all Latin America) is built.
Sugarcane could replace the energy produced by three hydroelectric dams like the Belo Monte in the Amazon, claims the Brazilian sugarcane industry, which remains relegated to marginal participation in the national electricity matrix.
Herculano Porto de Oliveira, of Brazil, said he felt forced "to live in hiding on my own land, though I never fought with anyone or stole anything," just for making a living from the biodiversity of the Amazon's Xingú River Basin, where he was born 66 years ago.
"There will be two years of abundance, and then famine," says Brazilian indigenous leader José Carlos Arara, laying bare his opinion of the promises that the Belo Monte hydroelectric dam will not alter the living conditions of the people in this part of the eastern Amazon.
At dawn, the "captain" fired on the village leader and the shooting began. "The forest trembled," says one survivor: the local indigenous people fled, leaving their dead behind. Only one young girl remained. But she sank her teeth into the chest of one of the assailants with such force that they slit her throat to pull her off him.
An energy deal that Peru and Brazil signed this week in the Amazon city of Manaus in Brazil is opposed by environmentalists and local indigenous communities in Peru where the planned hydroelectric dams will be built. What is at stake?
Electricity consumption in Brazil will rise by 5.9 percent a year until 2019, and hydroelectric plants will continue to be the main source of power because they generate it at a lower cost, the government announced.
The 74 pillars that will hold up the bridge over the Negro river to join this major city in Brazil's Amazon jungle to nearby urban districts have mostly been laid, without environmental protests or major debates on the impact of a fast-growing metropolitan area in the heart of the Amazon rainforest.
The Olmos megaproject, which will divert water from the Huancabamba River through a trans-Andean tunnel to a desert area along Peru's northern coast, is being touted as a catalyst for development, but disputes are heating up over land, crops and water.