Different Rescue, Same story!

Yesterday, I finally went to Merazonia Wildlife rescue center. It’s located in Mera, a small town between Banos and Puyo, in Ecuador. It is a five minute taxi ride away from the police check point, which is very convenient as they get most of their animal through illegal trafficking. The place is huge. First, it is similar to “La Ceiba” at the Jaguar Rescue center, in the sense that it is deep in the jungle. You cross a river, and you are still trekking a bit to get to the main part of the center. I had never been there, or even really done much research on what the place looked like, but I figured it out relatively easy, and I quickly ran into a volunteer coordinator, who must of seen my face and known I was the day volunteer. He introduced me to Jenna, the release coordinator volunteer who has been working there for 4 years and who worked closely with monkeys at the London zoo, and I also met Louise, their vet who was caring for a baby Tamarind at my arrival. I didn’t realize the extent of the land until I was walked around to see all the animals. The cages were very far apart for the obvious reason to keep the animals for sensing each other and the path were not paved. To my delight, I quickly got muddy. 

Jenna was my guide for the morning. She took me to her favorite monkeys, the wooly monkeys, and I got to meet Diego, Nina and Mona. Their fur was absolutely beautiful, shiny and thick. They looked like they were wearing little winter coats. They walked around their enclosure bouncing off the many branches, ladders and platform Frank had constructed for them. Frank was the original person I was in touch with, but due to a howler monkey emergency, he didn’t have much time to chat with me. I couldn’t blame him, as we have all been in howler monkey emergencies, and let him try to mediate between their three grumpy primates. 

I was also brought to their blue headed parrots, which they will try to release soon. They have 15 at the moment, and they all seem to get along, but she would like to be able to keep them nearby to track their progress as their as not been much recorded data on the release of blue headed parrots. So she explained to me that they will release them in groups of two, the dominant birds and then the rest.
They also have some big birds, including three Macaws, which were un-releasable, due to their habits around humans. It is a shame to see those beautiful blue and yellow animals stuck in a cage (no matter how big the cage is), but they are providing them with the best life they would get. They have a small group to socialize with, and they are in a space where they can fly.

Jenna then took me to their prized animals, the baby wholly monkeys. Jesus, they looked like stuffed animals. She is hopeful to release them with Diego and the two other females once they get a little more weight on them. The babies are still babies and need someone to be with them at night, and Jenna was worried for them. I kept on remembering how Encar or Nadja would sleep with Tonino, and he became a little beast of a monkey the moment he reached puberty. So I tried to reassure her that those little guys looked quite healthy and will enjoy their new surrogate mothers.

The main difference between this center and the Jaguar Rescue Center was their close tie with the ministry. Their animals came directly from the government, and the government decided the time, the location and the release format. The center did receive money from grants and from the Ecuadorian government in order to keep it running properly, but the restriction on the release could sometimes affect the animals. Some of their monkeys who couldn’t be release were brought to zoos. It was very interesting to hear the involvement of the ministry in their approach to release the animals, and their ability to keep up with the animals afterwards. They track all their releases and know immediately the success or failure. From my understanding, Jenna and Frank are doing an amazing job with the new arrivals at the center, and are very thorough with any release.

The center had many more animals, such as a puma (8 years old, so they will not release her), 5 capuchin monkeys, a tamarind monkey, a kinkajou (which was asleep), a lot of dogs, and the howlers. I was impressed by the dedication and independence of the volunteers. Everyone had their task for the week, knew their time, and just went ahead and did it. During the afternoon, I was allowed to help out with the wooly monkey’s cage, and we went out to get the leaves, and even chopped down a tree for their enclosure. No one checked on us, no one questioned the tree we had chosen, or even where it went. Frank and Jenna completely trusted us to make the right decision. 

I arrived at the perfect time for one of the volunteers, as Robin, a British girl, has been beaten by one of the capuchin earlier that week. She was glad to hear about my Othello (howler monkey) bite and how it happened. She showed me her wounds and I showed her my shoulder, which is now scar less. It is the danger to working with wild animals. You never know what their instinct is telling them at the moment. It is hard to put off the right vibes when your own instincts kick in, and you just have to react. Whatever reaction you have is not right or wrong, it is just is. Monkeys are wild animals, and like all wild animals they defend their troop from intruders, that includes us.
After my day of volunteering, I thanked everyone and gave them the chocolate they asked me to bring and more. The volunteers don’t really get to go into town for food. I brought some mac ‘n’ cheese, some blankets, a million types of snacks and some anti-diarrhea medication (Bovine collustrum so they can use it on the monkeys has well). I said good bye to the animal, and fed Selva (the little tamarind, a very very small monkey) a fat grasshopper before heading to the taxi.

The taxi dropped me off right at the police check point, where I waited for a bus to Banos to stop by for control, then hopped on it and went home. Bryan and Matt (one of the Canadians I met yesterday at the hostel) where on their way to the hot spring, so my last night in Banos was spent at the hot springs of Santa Agua, just like my first night in town.

Today, I am heading back to Quito for the night, as I am departing Ecuador to re-enter the real world of adulthood, where one most work and create lesson plans and be full of energy for the 20 little monkeys I have in front of me for 45 minutes a day. 

Let's loosen those muscles up!

I left for Banos yesterday mid-afternoon. The bus was incredibly easy to find and the transportation flew by. It was pretty like a Megabus, but with an actual bus terminal, not like that side street we have in Philly. I didn’t do much on my last morning in Quito. I felt worst the before, and I went out for ice cream and to the bank, but as soon as I returned I was so out of breath that I needed to sit down for a couple minutes before I could even have my second coffee of the day.

Bryan joined in the travel, which was nice to have someone to chat with on the bus, and even a familiar face in Banos. After three hours, we arrived at the bus station, I paid for a taxi to my hostel, which has a pug named Maya. Let me tell you, a pug does make all the difference. I have been obsessed with that little munchkin since day one.

The weather does not look very promising for much fun this week, but I am very happy to be done with the sun shining on my poor little skin. After gathering myself in my very own private room, I set out to have some dinner. I had some pizza with some patacones con queso. It was a lot of food, but I was starving as I didn’t have lunch! I walked over to the only thermal bath open at night: La piscine de la virgin. It was crowded. Full of Ecuadorians. Everyone was incredibly comfortable with the little space and brushing against each other. Expect for the occasional foreigner that was hugging himself/ herself trying to find a little spot of water.

I immediately started talking to three little Ecuadorian girls who kept staring at me, and for the full hour and a half we chatted about school life, their ambitions, and their favorite things to do. Jeez, were they talkative! I practiced a lot of my Spanish with them, but they also warmed up to me and asked me a lot of English questions. At the end of the night, we took a picture together, and promised to look each other up on Facebook.

I went out into town later that night, and it was hopping! Unlike Quito, which was dead when I was there, this little town has every shop open, and every restaurant is busy. I just had to try their sugar cane taffy, as it is their local candy. So after a nice warm bath, a nice cozy walk down city center, I went and had myself candy. It was 11pm when I went to bed, and I felt half normal for once. I was able to breath like a normal person, my cough has receded to disgusting phlegm infused fit, and I was out like a young person!

I went to bed completely satisfied with this little rainy town.

This morning I woke up extra early. I guess the teacher in me is still ready for school. Breakfast was a feast of bread, eggs, avocados, butter, jelly, croissants, and coffee. Except I had to take my dumb medication ruined any beverage. Bryan went water rafting, but I decided against it. My last two adventures were both pretty extreme, and I had no desire to continue testing the limit with this extreme activity.

Instead, I went on a little hike down to … I have no idea. I ended up having to ask someone to give me a lift back into town, because I had no clue where I was, or I had gotten there. If it helps out, the car ride took five minutes. My walk probably was 15 mns. Yet, this was a completely different part of Banos, more residential and very quiet. There were some very beautiful views and gardens, but nothing for me to do. I caught a taxi to the zoo, since it was near a waterfall and an actual hiking path. I was skeptical about the zoo, as this is a tiny town in Ecuador, but everyone on TripAdvisor was raving about it. So, I went. Aw man, was I disappointed. I will not go into details, but I will tell you the most upsetting thing I saw. There were two owls. Two different species of owls, in a walled off enclosure. One of them had killed the other, and was starting to eat his legs. I sat there for a while, waiting for the dead owl to wake up, because how could this happen right?

No, no, once I brought it up to the ticket employee, she assured me they already knew and thanked me to bring it up to their attention. I was pretty dumbfounded, and left the zoo early for my hike. I didn’t need to see the lions, the reptiles or the fish to know that this was just going to continue making me mad. 

I went on my hike to see Cascade Ines Maria. The hiking path barely looked like a hiking path, but I figured that I already got lost once today, what are the chances of a second time. Not very high. I followed the path and found the waterfall right away. I collected some rocks and laid down for a bit. Above me were flacons and condors flying around, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how happy they were compared to the ones in that miserable zoo.

I came back to the hotel and had Maya give me a second shower. She was so excited to see me, and I was so excited to see her, we both looked like big dummies. I relaxed for a bit, and then decided to go to El Mercado, a huge market for lunch and to the hot springs again for this afternoon. So far, it is been quite the relaxation trip here in Banos! 

High Altitude Bronchitis and Sunburns will not stop me

The great thing about hostels is the people you meet. In order to make some quick friendship, you have to be open to accepting the help of some strangers. As I said last, I was looking for a lunch spot, and I had seen this man talking to the front desk, a lot. I saw at breakfast, and here he was again. So, naturally, I approached him with a pretty far-fetched question such as “Are you the owner of this place?”. With a chuckle, he replied no, and asked me why and if I needed help and he quickly gave me the name of a local place to eat. It was a restaurant right down the street from our temporary residence. I went ahead and ordered the fish soup, and the fried fish. While I was on my phone, trying to figure out where I was staying in Banos, my next city, my new friend popped in and sat next to me.

Michel is from Quebec. He is a carpenter, and most importantly a huge world traveler. He lived in India for five years in total, and has been in Ecuador for two months. I tried to get as much information out of him as possible. He told me about three great museum to get check out, the first was the Gayasamin  museum, one was the museum of contemporary art and instrument and the last one was  the museum of astronomy which was pretty close. The only museum open on a Sunday afternoon was the Gayasamin.

And boy was I not disappointed. Gayasamin is an Ecuatorian artist who mostly painted the agony and languish of the South American people. He started with the colonization, the mezclados, and continued with the enslavement of the African people and in later years even the Vietnam war. His painting are so simply painted, blocks of colors, sometimes just primary colors, yet there is such details in the hair, the long fingers and the eyes, that it is hard to be pulled away from one of his giant work of art. At first, I thought that it would be a small museum, mostly something to do on random. I’ve been to most of the major museum in Europe millions of time, and not once, I had heard of Gayasamin, so how important could he be?

After his museum, we were given a tour of his house. There were hundreds of donations from some of the most famous painters. His picture was posted on the wall with some of the most important leaders around the world. Didn’t I feel like a silly little white girl, waking around thinking she knows best about art. I did end up buying some postcards which I will send on Monday when the post office is open. 

I took a taxi back to my hotel, as Quito is a very long city. Stuck in between two mountains, it takes up most of the valley. We passed the American Embassy, which is tucked away in the forest behind barbed wires.

Once back at the hostel, I went for a little coffee and tried to relax. The view of the city is so spectacular that all I wanted to do was get back out there. I took one look in the mirror though to realize how badly sunburnt I was. I did put on sunscreen, I promise. On my face, and my arm. I forgot my chest and the back of my knees (I am white. Every part counts). Even my face had streaks of red across it, marking me as a bigger foreigner than I already am. The sun in Quito is not forgiving, especially high up in the mountain and at noon. I decided to rest up and rehydrate before I got sun poisoning and ruin my little adventure.

So I stayed on the terrace, and enjoy the company of two other Canadians. As the temperature dropped, I realized I had brought only a light jacket, and pants were out of the questions as the back of my knees were burning up (Ironic, uh?).  So we sat and played quizzo with my two new roommates, two goofballs from the United States. Needless to say, we didn’t win trivia, but to be fair we were all pretty tired from our respective day, so we were not looking forward to staying past our group activity.

The Canadians and I were hoping to go out into the city at night, but it has been recommended to stay in unless you know exactly where you are going. Many times, and many people have warn us how dangerous Quito can be at night. It was so hard to see the shining light by the church and the twinkles of people walking around while being stuck high up in a hostel. Really, all I wanted to end this day was a delicious ice cream cone and a quick walk through the beautiful European architecture that is Historical Quito.

That night, our fourth roommate arrived at 1 am. His arrival was abrupt, very similar to mine. Lights were turned on, the security guard spoke with his outdoor voice and keys were jiggled. The poor man felt the shame that I felt barely 24 hours ago and tried to undress and get in his bed as quickly as possible. The American guys left this morning for the amazon, so I will be left to make new friends again. Michel, my go-to guy is composing me a list of places I should go from his Lonely Planet guide book as I was typing this (7am- the teacher in me is not quite put to rest yet).

Early in the morning, before my free walking tour, I went to the Basilica del Voto de Ecuador. If you go prior to 9am, you get to go in for free (otherwise it is two dollars). I wanted to wait to climb the tower, but I have developed a cough, and shortness of breath, so I vetoed it. I have been up plenty of church towers, and I went to see Quito from up high on Sunday.

The walking tour was incredible. I have been incredibly lucky in stumbling upon celebrations by accident. We started at the Basilica, and went to Plaza Grande, where they had the most intricate changing of the guards I have seen. Not only was there a lot of guards, but the president is required to be present, and wave at the people and blow kisses (well, I am not sure if he is required to do blow kisses, but he did). We tried a foamy dessert made out of eggs called Ponche, which is very Ecuadorian. It. Was. So. Sweet. Turns out South americans love sweet things, but like rotting-your-teeth-on-the-spot sweet. I couldn’t finish it, and I can’t imagine someone finishing it ever.
We headed over to a couple covenants and another plaza where Quito is starting to build their metro. So in four years, Quito will have much better common transportation.

After the adventure I went to La Rhonda, a little merchant street. They had toys from back in medieval time. I went to the only local looking place and had a local soup you are supposed to have on Easter. It is called Fanesca, and it is made out of 7 Ecuadorian seeds (Yes. Corn is one of them). I had my first empanada as well while being here. Jeeze I couldn’t finish my meal. It was so filling and so delicious.

I went back to the hotel after a bit of souvenir shopping and finding the post office. Everyone will receive postcards, no worries. I had to rest due to my lungs. I went to the pharmacy to try to get help, and receive three medications, ranging from asthma to bronchitis. Later, I will google it and find out I have high altitude bronchitis, so as soon as I arrive in Banos I should start to feel better.

In the evening, my new roommate, Brian, and the two Canadians I met earlier went to a microbrewery called “Los bandidos” to enjoy some real beers. If I had to have one more glass of Pilsner or Brahma I would have lost it. We did take an adventure later to Mariscal Sucre, where everything was absolutely dead. I went back to the hotel to try to rest while the rest of the group went back out.

Today, I am not sure if I will go to any museums, but the teleferico is out of the questions (altitude: 14000ft) and the parks are a big no-no (I got the white people curse, where I get sun burnt at any contact with the sun). But I must re-pack, pay for my meals and room, and depart for Banos by public bus, which I am sure will be another adventure!

First day- in travel and on the ground.

 I am not sure if I can call travel day the worst day, but we will for now. As excited as I was to return to my favorite airport (PHL) in the world, I was going through the long list of things that could go wrong, and things I could have forgotten. A typical ritual for anyone boarding a flight really.

Michelle and Pat dropped me off at the airport on their way to a flyers game. I wish I could say that I had never seen an emptier airport, but having been in airport at the wee hours of the night, I have seen nearly abandoned airports. I didn’t have suitcases, and had checked in early. My new Iphone warned me that my flight was delayed, and all my brain could tell me was “oh, and here is the first thing.” I had a connection in Miami to Quito, and with this 30 minutes delay, I had a guarantee of a light jog to my next gate. I sat myself at a bar by my gate and enjoyed my book, lunch and a couple Bloody Marys. It seemed like the most appropriate drink to celebrate my departure of the state, and maybe the country.

At this point, my brain couldn’t let me enjoy my traveler’s light reading without having to check if the flight was even more delayed. My favorite part of flying so frequently is the miles that come along with it. But the true best part is my little “Gold” member card. While everyone stacks themselves at the boarding gate, similarly to cattle, I waited to the side until they called out propriety seating. 

That’s right, while you guys lined up like idiots, blocking the way and trying to rudely be first on the place, I destroyed your concepts and beliefs and jumped the line to be right in front of you.

NOT THAT IT HELPED, AS I SAT IN THE PLANE FOR A GOOD 45 MINUTES.

Let me tell you, we left an hour later. My anxiety took the best of me, and I sat in my spacious seat, overwhelmed with the thought of having to stay in Miami for a night, when I already have such a short vacation. How dare you American Airlines. How dare you.

Well, in the good fashion and tradition that is American Airlines flight, my next flight was also delayed. So I did not stay in Miami.

I encountered two girls from Philadelphia who were also traveling to Quito on my second flight, and were teachers. What a coincidence! I helped them get through customs as they knew no Spanish, and one hadn’t traveled in years. But, after a good 12 hours of travel in the air, and in airports, I found my way to a very quiet and sleepy Quito. My taxi driver was my height (which is apparently common in Ecuador), and the most patient little man in the world, as I forgot to take money out to pay him and I had him drive around the city to find an ATM.

My poor roommates got awaken by my hassling around the room to get my stuff and myself situated. After a good night of sleep, I explored my hostel, which is absolutely beautiful. Breakfast is offered on the terrace, and I enjoyed an inspiring view of Quito. After breakfast and a much needed shower, I decided to take it upon myself to get lost and get familiar with the city.

Suddenly I decided I would climb up Mt. Panecillo and go see El virgin de Quito up close and personal. Of course, I was not going to take a bus, or taxi, or even the familiar route. It is a mountain. All I would have to do in theory is to go up, and I will get there.

On my way, I encountered a parade for Palm Sunday, and followed along as tons of worshipers where singing hymns and carrying a statue of dead Jesus sitting on his throne. Some of the citizens were weaving palms leaves and making them into little crosses or bouquets for people to offer at their church. I followed the parade until it took a turn down the hill. They had brought me to Parque Lineal, which is way south of town. It was still at the base of this gigantic mountain, therefore, I could still test out my theory.

I climbed up what felt like a million stairs, and found myself in the ghettos of El Panecillo. As I said, I just kept climbing the hill. It was me and one old Ecuadorian who was doing much better than me in terms of cardio. That hour of Yoga a week is a joke. 

As I was two minutes away from El virgin, a pack of dogs stopped me in my tracks. Those little bastards were obviously protecting their territory, and at the same time, about to ruin my valiant efforts of seeing my first tourist attraction. Hold and behold, my little old Ecuadorian shows up to nowhere and tells me to keep on trekking. She throws a branch my way, and continued to her house. I stood there, texting my friends to make sure they would know why I got mauled and by what, and how I wasn’t truly to blame. Little did I know, dogs are scared of branches. They scattered and ran up the hill while their owner came out and was surprised to see me standing with no bites. She walked up with me the little path while we chatted about her dogs, which she rescued and how I was their leader now. Sure enough, they followed me around, and fought other dogs nearby. If I didn’t stand out before, now I sure did as the queen of dogs.

I didn’t realize today was the Equinox, and so after admiring the giant status and trying to lose the pack of dogs, I sat myself down to observe a traditional dance performed by the locals. It was quite a beautiful contrast between El domingo Ramos and El equinoccio. After enjoying it for a bit, I noticed the dogs had run off, probably to fight someone else or some other dogs so I quickly hopped on the local bus to get back home.

If anyone knows me, or has tried to get anywhere with me, we know the one skills I do not have is the skill of direction. After asking a couple cops, I made my way back home. Next is to find a delicious lunch, which I think I deserve, and I am definitely going to a museum and staying away 

from packs of dogs (even though I kept my branch).

But for now, 

Hasta luego amigos! 

Pre-Ecuador

Here I am. Off to another trip again.

This time, I will try my hardest and bestest to keep this blog alive, unlike the other two trips I took, which were hectic.
The truth of the matter is, I am much more inclined to keep a blog alive when I travel alone. There is a good chance you will have reading material for a week starting Saturday.


With that said, there is a little bit of information that I have no revealed to a lot of my friends. I was diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder, and even though, most of my generation can relate in some way shape or form to this crippling disorder, it has recently turned me into a crabby individual.
See, I could have told you I had anxiety, everyone can. At the age of 6, I remember having belly pains about going to school. At the age of 10, I remember inviting everyone at my birthday party so no one would feel left out. At the age of 16, I remember pinching my arms, waiting by my boyfriend's class to see if he got a good grade on his test. At the age of 21, I remember canceling my birthday party because I couldn't endure the imminent lack of interest. At the age of 22, I remember booking a flight to Costa Rica in order to get away from the crushing pressure of adulthood. At the age of 23, I remember being on medication so I could go through my daily routine without a panic attack. At the age of 24, I remember not eating because my stomach was back at twisting itself. At the age of 25, I booked a flight to Ecuador and drowned myself in work so I wouldn't have to glare at my harsh reality.

This trip isn't just a fun spring break trip by myself. I am taking this trip to Ecuador, as a sort of mental/ emotional rejuvenation. Since the school year started, 2015-2016 has not been very kind to this little cat lover. I have lost my dearest and closest living thing, Kitten/ Nala, to a sudden and inexplicable illness. I've had countless failures at my new teaching job, failed relationships, fading friendships and unfortunately, in the most recent events, two more deaths to add to the list. Those were people I admired greatly for their work ethic and the passion they carried out with zerp expectation from society.
This has left me in shambles to say the least, and I know understand when people say "When it rains, it pours."

If I was still talking to my therapist, she would reiterate " You don't mind getting stabbed, but you are afraid of the paper cuts." With years behind me now, I know exactly why I don't mind getting stabbed.

First, biologically speaking, your body releases endorphin after a stab. The body protects itself from the tremendous pain that it suffers. For a paper cut, the body does nothing. For that matter, in my experience, a paper cut doesn't even heal within a week, it is bothersome and it gets infected one way or another.
Second, statistically speaking, I am much less likely to experience a stab than a paper cut. This year has been full of paper cut. Every month, I've sliced my finger on a piece of blank paper.
Third, from metaphorical experience, getting stabbed makes for an awesome story. Paper cuts are just downers.

Don't get me wrong, I have had plenty of joyful moment. I have had the luck to have a new little furball, Rebel. I've worked hard enough to be accepted into Graduate School. My principals and department head are giving me glowing reviews across the board. I've been lucky in many ways.

Unfortunately, the chemicals in my brains and my current interactions are not conducive to my happiness, and so it is with a very light heart and very much anticipation that I will be boarding that plane (even though American Airlines canceled all my miles. Effing Noodle Heads).
I can't wait to share my experiences. As always, this will be blocks of texts rather than pictures.
(One day, I will get on the pictures thing, for now, enjoy the good old medium of imagination)

Vegan Chai Chocolate chip cookies

A little recipe to keep under my wind.
Fully vegan, but not gluten free.

1 1/4 cup of brown sugar
1/4 cup of sugar
2 1/4 cup of flour
1 teaspoon of baking soda
3/4 teaspoon of salt
Ground cloves
Ground ginger
Cinnamon
Nutmeg
Chocolate chip

6 Tablespoon of almond milk
1/4 cup of apple sauce
2 teaspoon of vanilla
1/4 vegetable oil

Mix all together.
Refrigerate for an hour.
Bake at 375F

Animals for everyone!

The Jaguar Rescue Center is PACKED with volunteers, to the point that it is annoying and stressful. At La Ceiba, it is so relaxing and we are alone in the jungle, where I don't have to hear people constantly complaining about the amount of people there and their right to do whatever they want. I don't have to be frustrated and surrounded by people.

The very first event I got to experience at JRC was the neutering of the deer, Xoi. I really only got to look at it from far away, but it was so cool to see the vet operate on a sleeping animal. As much as I enjoyed it, I was very stressed, and kept calm by washing dish after dish.

While everyone is hustling and trying to act like they are the busiest person on the center, I am just trying to keep my six tiny volunteers busy. They are so wonderful in the sense that they are always willing to help, and doing the best they can. It is hard to make them realize that this opportunity is not only wonderful but they are six in thirty to be able to be near the monkeys, the margay, the anteater, the raccoons, the sloths and the birds all in the same week.

I do find some quiet moment at the center as well though. The police has just brought over a giant turtle which was hunted for its meat. It was found in the trunk of a car, fins tied, holes from harpoons in his shell. The center quickly constructed a "little" bassinet in the back of the new nursery (away from the tours and the people) and the kids grabbed sea water for him. Our job was to count his breath. This was my first time seeing a sea turtle (THEY ARE HUGE), but it was also seeing them breath. They sound like they haven't breathed in ten minutes... oh wait, they catch their breath every ten minutes! And boy and oh boy, they catch their breaths. The first time I heard it, it made me jump. I did think he was dying, but that's just what they do. Turtle's gonna do what turtles do.

The center also has the cutest little kitten Margay, McCarthy, who is making me miss my kitten so much. I know she is well, and she is loved, but not seeing everyday whenever I want to is hard. Having a whole bed to myself is just not the same. I did get to play with him which was incredibly lucky, but I would still rather play with little baby kitten Nala. August 12th will be a great reunion of two souls, whatever she truly wants it or not.

I have been here for two weeks, and even though I feel like I never felt, the rescue center feels very different. It is not quite the same with all of my campers, and even with the rest of the volunteers it is not always as enjoyable. There is too many strong personalities that I do not enjoy, and too many people who are not there for the good of the place.
And then, you encounter the one person who revives that serenity in you. That one volunteer who is here for just the right reasons, and it makes me feel like where I was two years ago, with all my friends, and all my babies.

I do miss the peace I felt back then, and this does feel like a job, but it is really not the worst job to have!

Jaguar Rescue center, Welcome back!

Today was my very very first day at "La Ceiba".  This is truly a magical place that I have only heard of is out in the jungle, with no phone service and no internet. It is a very secluded little community of one family and two volunteers at the moment (about to be zero volunteers by next Wednesday).  

The group had to split up as we were such a big group, there wasn't enough work for us at just the rescue center. I decided to go to "La Ceiba" to make sure that my 6 little volunteers were not struggling alone. Of course, they were mesmerized by the jungle, and by the beauty of the community in general. All the houses being built by hand, without cranes and the roofs being made out of woven banana leaves. 

I was also, and remembered why I fell in love with this town. The one long term volunteer (Dayana) had recently adopted a little orange kitten who was nearly just as wild as the ocelot. I wish I could have brought it to our hotel with me, and just kept him for six weeks. Borrow-a-kitten in Costa Rica could be an easy hit. 

 We spent the day doing a lot of maintenance work, which I forgot how tired it was. I should say I "conveniently" forgot. My body quickly remembered the proper way to rake which was taught by non-other than Jimmy, the only man I know to be drinking coffee out of water bottle and to be raking at the same time. My blister came back, so I will have once again peasant hands, instead of my dainty lady hands. But we were rewarded with some time with the animals, feeding them and spending some quality time with them. 

I was a little sadden to hear that Shaki, the sweet little one eyed monkey had grown to attack women, and that like so many, after sexual maturity could not be around humans anymore. Tonino, who was a cry baby when I left him and had to be in someone's arms at all times, attacked a volunteer the week before we arrived and bit him in the neck. 

This is a good reminder that wild animals are wild animals. No matter their behavior as babies, once they reach that hormone level, their instinct will kick in. They both will be released shortly, and will live happy lives with their little troop where they wont have to deal with human competition. 

I also got to see Stanley again, the blind kinkajoo. I knew he would never be released, but I was happy to see that he was in a quieter environment, with still very loving volunteers. He was napping away as he is a nocturnal animal and it was good to see him actually have his little old man life- sleep all day, eat whatever he wants, hiss at whoever is on his lawn. 

After our very hard day, we deserved some ice cream and I obviously went back to my favorite ice cream shop (which turns out, our driver recommended!). 

To continue with the treats, the husband of the hostess at the hotel cut all of us coconut so we could slurp on the water and eat the meat. Turns out the couple is from Michigan and decided to move here for good. He was a digital/ technology teacher for four years until he came here, and produces some pretty sweet music video, including one showing off his skills and called it "Black Amish". 

I promised him a shout out and therefore, here is the link to "Black Amish". Add it to your play list amigos!

Weathered the storm

Pfew, I knew I would say it someday, but Costa Ricans are very aggressive and terrible driver. This is coming from me, who has had her fair share of accidents this year. Apparently, driving is not about sharing the road, but more about selfishly driving around the road to get to your destination.
If you get in a little accident in the process, that's why we have American Engineers to make crumble zones and lovely airbags.

While we are going through a tropical storm (okay I might be exaggerating, it was really heavy rain that felt like a tropical storm), and our dear driver Luis could barely see ahead of him, the campers kept on laughing and joking around.

My heart stopped a couple times on the road. Eventually, after 6 hours of driving, we made it to our little Cabinitas which are in the middle of the jungle, yet right in front of the beach.
None of us needed to even think of the Wifi password, as all we wanted to do was sleep.

The next day we woke up bright and early and were ready to see the animals. After a chaotic moment at the center, where it was quite obviously they were not ready to have such a large group of people coming to help, and yet, after taking charge everyone had a little job. Whatever it be scrubbing down the walls, or raking the leaves, everyone was hard at work contributing to the little community.
The kids joined in the tours, while I went around and said my hellos to everyone who I had missed so dearly.

Marloes was working the tours, the nursery and enrichment, which takes care of making sure the animals were kept healthy mentally.
Nerea was now in charge of the volunteers and giving everyone a job.
Picchio was still being his silly self, getting into motorcycle accidents and bothering the Nerea monkey and Nerea human.
Encar and Sandro gave me a big hug and a big kiss on the cheek, surprised to see me again. It felt I was coming back home from college and everyone had change, yet nothing had change at the same time.

We finished early, as there was a lot of us, and not enough jobs. The kids got to babysit some of the animals, but we had errands and everyone was STARVING. Luis, our driver extroardinaire, recommended us this great little restaurant and everyone ate, went groceries shopping (some for the first time) and tonight we will all have to cook our lunch for tomorrow.
It is cute to see the teenagers having to pick their own food and decide on something to eat other than ramen noodles or pasta. Yet, they all managed to come up with a little something.
Today is beach as it is the first sunny day in a long time and then it will be cooking and a night out in time!

Pura vida mis amigas.

Back in Costa Rica. Back on Tico Time

After two years of absence from Costa Rica, I finally made my way back.

This time with a group called Travel For Teens. I have been working for them since I was 17 years old, but, typically, I am sent away to France (not a real surprise here).

Anyway, I will be in Costa Rica with 12 students and my new favorite vet, Sally, who has already performed surgery twice on my little Kitten-baby-dummy, Nala. I have been stuck in San Jose for two days, as I'm waiting for my group to land. Today is the day that I start the journey to Puerto Viejo.

I. could. not. be. more. excited.

Two years ago, I felt like I had missed out by never staying in San Jose. It is the capital of Costa Rica. It has the international airport. It should be interesting right?
Well, I've been proven wrong. Turns out, I am not always right. San Jose is boring, dirty, and there is no green space, no wildlife.
If you are looking to bump into a thousand people a day, you'll love it here though.

Yesterday, I spent my time walking up and down streets in the hope to find something intriguing. I found a little hole in wall bakery where I had my lunch for 2$ and their version of Chinatown (which is composed of warehouses full of red lanterns and shoes).

After being disappointed for an hour, I decided I might as well return to the hotel, because at least there is a TV there. So, I went back to hotel, and turned on the TV while preparing for my trip.
The trip being ready, I went to the pool and started reading a little bit.
OF COURSE THERE NEEDS TO BE CONSTRUCTION AT ALL HOURS OF THE DAY.
Try relaxing by the pool side they said...

So, instead of howler monkeys, or even just passing cars, for the last two days I have been listening to the harmonious sound of a jackhammer drilling into something. No one truly knows what, not even the receptionist.
That in itself is enough to turn a sane person, insane.

Now, I am waiting at the hotel, listening to the Spanish version of "Pirates of Caribbean" and typing my first blog post in a long time, watching time slowly passing by.

Can't wait to get back on the road and arrive in the jungle.

Second day as a tourist...

My first morning in Bangkok was greeted by the sunlight and the cool breeze and air conditining. I woke up on the top bunk of the bed, and immediately started googling my Thai phrases. I was going to be ready for this amazing sunny day in the capital. I put on my sunscreen (a prerequisite for any outings) and went downstairs to the lobby. We had a continental breakfast, but most importantly some coffee. I have to say that I am impressed with the lack of jet lag I have experienced so far. I fell asleep at 3 am, woke up at 8 am, and went about the day as if it was any other day. There was no strange feeling that I was 12 hours into the future.
Our first and most anticipated cultural activity was Wat Pho (The reclining buddha temple). While Anne Marie was yoga-ing it up at the gym, I was doing heavy research on how to get to the temple. As someone who has been to major cities before, and been to Asia, I expected Thailand to have a much more exciting metro system. But, from where we are staying (Silom district, the old red light district during the Vietnam war, and still kinda today), there was no easy way to get up the river and to the beautiful place of worship. So we hopped on the metro, paid a wooping 100 baht (3 dollars) on way up the river and got to see the contrast of this developing city. We see side by side decaying buildings, ancient temples, modern architecture, and western hotels. Once we disembarked our dinky little boat, we couldn't miss the temple, and the dozens of street vendors ranging from dried fish to grilled squid to fresh strawberries. We opted from some refreshing coconut water, as the sun was beating down on our faces.
Wat Pho or Wat Po was particularly impressive but I think my favorite part of this cultural experience was the "outfit man", his entire job was to check the ladies' outfits and give them bright green neon robes, as if to call them out on their unappropriate clothing decision. We were spared from the shame, and even given a thumbs up from "outfit man". The reclining buddha is an amazing sight. Not only is the temple itself huge, and filled with small buildings offering meditation and golden buddha statues, but The Reclining Buddha was the most impressive. The legend says that it represents Buddha on his death bed. Wat Pho is also the most ancient and largest temple in Bangkok, and was the start of Thai massage and medicine. There is even a medicinal school inside the temple still operational to this day.
While we were there, Anne Marie and I did some meditation in front one of the smaller temples. During our ten minute mediation session, I couldn't help but break out of my relaxed state to listen to a tour guide. In front of Buddha, there was fruits, coconuts and banana to by specific. Pregnant ladies bring a banana as an offering in the hope to have a baby boy, while a coconut was meant for a baby girl. After I listened to this little fun fact and the ten minutes were up, we continued walking around the sacred place. As I expected, cats were napping everywhere; in the sun, in the shade, on rocks, by fountains. If I was reincarnated as a cat, please make it a thai buddhist cat.
Once out of the temple, we couldnt ourselves and had to buy pork on a stick. We each had a stick of pork and snacked on it until I haggled for some sunglasses. Exhausted from the sun and our walk around the temple, we returned to our hotel to relax in the air conditioning.
The minute we felt better, we went right back out for some shopping in the weekend market, Chatuchak market. The moment we got off the BST (skytrain- sorta the Thai metro but above the roads) we were greeted by stalls after stalls of shirts, jewelry, souvenirs and other crazy little knick knacks. We tried our hardest to haggle, but because we went out closer towards closing time, the shop owners were extremely irritated with hagglers and we failed at haggling. We did buy some article of clothing, rings and sunglasses, and obviously some spicy squid, which resulted in an immediate purchase of Chrysanthemum tea to cool down. During our little walk around the market, everyone froze all of the sudden. At first, Anne Marie and I thought it was a flash mob, and then quickly realized the National Anthem was on. While the national anthem is playing, no one is allowed to do anything, including talking or walking. You must stand still and so, we followed the custom and froze in our path.
After our Thai experience, we were starving and needed to get some food. The truth is closer to the fact that we walked near a stole of broth, smelled it, and our stomach called out to us. We approached the stand and they asked us what we wanted. We hadnt made a decision yet, and we learned at that moment that Thai street vendors have no patience for indecisiveness. The lady started cooking for us a noodle soup with beef and pork. It was delicious and we didn't get food poisoning. As this is my biggest fear, it has opened my mind to try more street vendors food.
That night, we planned our next few day over some Chiang, the equivalent of Natty light.

The next day, our plan fell into the water due a monk's funeral. I say "a monk" but this was a senior monk that was so revered by the Thai population that the Thai royal family attend his funeral (at the Golden mountain). We had been walking all the way to a near protest site, which had turned the street into a ghost town until a man stopped us. He seemed nice enough, but after a talk with a tour guide, he had scammed us. He had recommended a floating market to us, and with our naivety, we agreed to go. After bargaining the price down, we went and enjoyed the boat ride through the canal and saw the old city of Bangkok, the temples at every other block and fed some fish for good fortune. It was a nice boat ride in general, but the fact of being scammed into it was a little upsetting to me. We did have the good conscience to go to Wat Aru, which is a temple that looks like it belongs in the Mayan era. It provided us with a beautiful view, and to be honest was way cooler than the Golden Mountain. The steps were steep and seemed dangerous, but once at the top, we were rewarded with a view that I could only compare to Notre Dame's view of Paris. Obviously as in any temple, I got to pet some fat cats. At the top, we were able to sign our name on this golden tarp they had wrapped around the temple. Our names will be on Wat Aru probably for the next 6 months, or until they switch that tarp.
We took a boat to the other side of the river, and had some Pad thai (agaiiin) and some broccoli rabe rice noodle at a local restaurant near Wat Pho. It was, as usual delicious and revitalized us.
The heat was getting to us, and so we went back home to rest, shower and really plan the rest of our trip. We had two more days in Bangkok and still had so much to do.
After we figured out our trip (and book hostels/ flights/ buses), we went out to a nice-ish restaurant, and had the most delicate salads and tuna bruschetta (an expensive meal for little food, but our taste buds were so sympathetic for something other than rice and noodles. We obviously were still hungry and went to our little market on our street. While Anne Marie was picking snacks for the two of us, I was too busy petting the dirty alley cats, who were so obviously in need of a good rub (unlike the monk cats).
Once back at the hotel, we both struggles with sleep, but we still have a busy schedule ahead of us, including eating even more street food!

Off to the unknown, one more time.

And here we go again. 

March came around and I am off to some new country again. This time I'm going to Thailand, to visit a good friend. As exciting as it sounds, I felt the too-familiar pang of anxiety at the bottom of my stomach before I left. 

Thailand is the promiseland for backpackers and world-the-round travelers. I have been promised cheap cheap meal, and fun fun activities. 

The flight was just a shy of 21 hours, but I flew my favorite airline: United Airlines! Their flight attendants are always willing to help, and the ground staff has always gone beyond the minimal to make sure my trip goes well. 

Not only that, but they have the most important amenity for a long flight. Plugs in their plane! 

Yes, yes, I am charging my Ipad as I am typing this at above 32000ft in the air. Technology nowadays is impressive, and making my travels so much more exciting. I have not had the chance of having a long flight with free Wifi yet, but I am sure I will get to experience it in my lifetime, and then I will be able to post blogs from the sky. 

After four movies watched, and some solitaire played I finally landed in Japan. I had a bit of a layover, which consisted of a sushi-only menu. The airport in Japan is absolutely my favorite. It is heaven for everyone. They accept american dollars without prejudice, continue to speak to you in Japanese (or my rusty version of chinese) and the bathroom are spacious enough for carryons.

There is ALWAYS a staff at EVERY counter, who can help you with anything (including purchasing triple A batteries because this traveler was too stubborn to pack some) and finally they have the best people watching. 

I enjoyed a beer (sapporo, nothing fancy) in the company of a navy man who had just been to Korea on reserve for 18 days. He was heading home now to colorado, and was ready to eat some well made burgers with his family. While I was about to embark in a journey sans burger.

But the best part of this whole airport is the free uninterrupted wifi, which permitted me to contact my mother at 2am to reassure her that I had landed, gotten out of the plane and was sipping on a beer, while she was trying to anxiously go to bed. 

I had to do one thing this time that I had revisited the Japanese airport. Now that I was 23 years old, there was no shame in trying to use those technologically advanced toilets. And so I did. As someone who had spent the last 18 hours crammed in a chair in cotton panties, let me tell you, I feel refresh and ready for another 7 hours on a plane. 

There is something about airplanes that puts me to sleep. I am not sure it is the vibration or the pressure, but as soon as the plane takes off, I pass out. While the babies around me howl, my brain decides to take a nap. Thirty minutes later, I am up and confused as how I got here and why does everyone have a cup of water exepct for me. Yep, it is now my gift to bear along with my curse. 

Well, I arrived in Bangkok at 10:40pm on friday night. After losing a whole day to travel, and having an interesting and confusing sleep schedule, I wasn't sure if I was ready to sleep or energized enough to walk around. I found my bag, found a taxi and headed to my hostel. I have taken taxis before, and I have had drivers who didn't speak english before. This experience was on a whole new level. As nice as my taxi driver was, I think it is time that I learn a bit more thai before I venture into a private car with a stranger. 

As I arrived at my hostel, I met up with Anne-Marie who was waiting for me. After a month apart, we both had so many stories we kept cutting each other off, and before we knew it it was 2am. Yet, driven by the desire to have solid food and our never ending appetite, we left into the empty streets of Silom district of Bangkok. Right around the corner there was a cafe open. Again, the language barrier was a minor obstacle, but the international symbol for hunger (a rub of the tummy with big eyes) got the message across. We sat down and within minutes ordered some food (Pad thai and cashew grilled chicken). Within minutes, I found a stray cat to examine as well. And within minutes of finishing my dish, the little stray cat (named dirty kitten) was given the remaining prawn meat. 

After this well-deserved meal (I had been eating airplane mush for the last 48 hours), we headed to bed, but not without chatting from our bunk bed for another bit. 

3 Days left

With three days left until I must go back to the real world, I am slowly  realizing how much I am going to miss the Jaguar Rescue Center. It's been wonderful to meet so many people, and to watch so many animals go from unhappy to healthy and ready to release.

Otelo is one of those pets. When Otelo first came to the center, he didn't know he was a monkey. For that matter, he was kept in a house with no windows, and so he didn't even know what a tree was. You can imagine how scared Otelo was when he first came to the center, an open space with people who cared about him. At first, Encar tried to interact with him everyday , but everyday she would get bitten badly. It wasn't until she finally had a breakdown and yelled back at him that he started to calm down. When I came to the center, he was accepted into the troop, he could go to the forest, and he was doing better and better. He still  had to be separated at night, but during the day he had learned to interact with the monkeys, and could be near them. It seemed like he was on the road to recovery, and everyone was happy to see quick progress being made. He enjoyed going up trees, and could even be around the little monkeys. Until a few days ago. Chipito, our alpha male, attacked him, and so the rest of the troop attacked him. He was shaken up by it and feeling a little depressed. Each volunteers tried to take a few minutes out of their day to spend time with him so he would be reminded that he was still loved. Unfortunately, his old habits kicked in after being ostracised by the rest of the troop. I was spending some time with him after he had bit three other volunteers. I had been able to say that he had never bitten me, until that fateful day. Otelo doesn't attack because he feels threatened, he bites because he doesn't know how to cope with his feelings, just like humans have many various way of dealing with their emotions. This is mostly due to his past. I came in and everything was fine. He was cuddling with me. I scratch his tummy and was gently petting his head. Suddenly, he wanted to go on my shoulder. A lot of times, when monkeys feel like they are going to be abandoned they climb on our shoulder, so we can't leave without them. I thought nothing of it. He was a bit restless, but this was Otelo, who knows what was going through his head. And this is the problem with him, whatever was going through his mind stressed him out enough to bite me. He bit my shoulder, which caused my reaction to swat him off my shoulder, and that's when he bit my hands. Now, I was alone in a cage with him, and he was blocking the door acting agressif. I started calling people's name and it wasn't until Giseala came that I was able to be relieved of my duty. What I haven't mentioned yet, is that in my terror, I decided not to check out check my hand, which was bleeding quite a lot. I wrapped it up in my bandana and tried to ignore what was happening there. My hand is fine, it was a few small scratches, which made it look more dramatic than it truly was. Obviously, I cried as soon as I got to the nursery. I didn't cry because it hurt, but because I was upset that Otelo would not want to be my friend. I know how ridiculous it sounds, but my feelings got hurt because a kid on the playground pushed me and made fun of me- and it wasn't even the popular kid.

Anyway, a few days later, Chipito took my revenge and bit Otelo pretty badly on the arm. The poor little monkey needed five stitches. I got to help witness the operation since I work in the nursery, and all I wanted to do was hug Otelo to tell him that I knew how badly he felt. The problem with Chipito repeatingly biting Otelo is that they will never be able to interact. Otelo will have to be alone forever, or he will have to find a new troop. Without a healthy mind, Otelo can't form his own troop, but without the interactions he has with the rest of the monkeys, he can't be healthy.

While Otelo was in the nursery being healed back to health, I had another sick animal. Fernando didn't seem like his normal self in the morning. His eyes were clouded and he was reacting to my movements. I presented him to Encar with a knot growing in my stomach. Immediately, she gave him some anti-biotics and some other medication, while I was making some apple juice. Between the chaos of Otelo and Chipito, Fernando was to the side, and I was checking on him, cheering on every bite of his leaf. As the day went in, he was put in "intensive care" which means he was put on a thermal blanket and offered apple juice every 30 minutes. It seemed that he was waking up a bit more, and that he was eating a little more. My muscles relaxed and if he made it through the night, I would be a little more hopeful that he would make it. The next morning, I came to the center to see his cage empty. My heart dropped to my stomach, and I rushed over to Encar.
"Where is Fernando?" I was really hoping her answer would be "Upstairs in my bed. He is sleeping peacefully." Instead, she didn't answer and just shook her head. I repeated the question, clearly not understanding what she meant, or not wanting to. She explained to me that he died the night before around 9pm. It hit me right in the heart. Fernando was the baby of the nursery. As much as Palma is my favorite, Fernando was the cutest. He was much smaller, and had the whole weaker-adorable-ness to him. As every volunteer came in to ask me how Fernando was doing, I cried everytime I had to tell them that there was no more Fernando. I cried at least six different times with six different people. As the saying goes "Grief is a luxury", and while I was crying for Fernando, I had five other babies who needed to be cleaned, fed and medicated. So the day went on. I might have not been as talkative or as joyous as usual, but I always tried to give extra love to the animals I would encounter. This attention was meant to be for Fernando, and so, every animal got to heal my grief.

This week has been terrible with animals. We lost our talking parrot, Lola. Tuki Tuki, our terrible tucan, chased her out of the center. While we were all looking for her inside the center, she actually was on the road, terrified and quiet. Finally, she heard someone, got scared and flew into the jungle. For the last two days, we have been looking for a green parrot, in the fiolage of the Costa Rican jungle. I hope everyone can see the humor in this situation, so that Lola can go in style. She probably watches everyday, giggling to herself.

Today we got two new rescues. Some French tourists came in with a dead bat. Two little baby bats were attached to the mommy bat. They are the size of my fingernail. Their feeding is tedious, and like any baby animal, I would like to reduce the transmission of disease and for that reason, I refused to do their feeding. Encar will be the one handling them, or Dora the new nursery volunteer. Baby bats need to have the liquid put drop by drop on their mouth, and then they will lick it off. I am hoping they will grow big and strong as bats are my favorite night animal/ flying animal.

I will be long gone before they will be adults, and I hope my volunteer friends will keep me up to date on all my babies' progress!

Ci-Ciao
Hasta Luego!

See you in the United States my friends!

Panama's disaster

Friday was my last day before my big trip to Panama. I consider three day a big trip, as the nursery will be out of my hands, and the last time this happened, we had a disaster (which hopefully had no real consequences, but I'm still expecting sneezing and scratching in the rest of the babies). The planning of the trip was rather simple, I let the hotel know that I needed a shuttle, and they booked the cheapest shuttle for me. All I was told was to hop on a shuttle at 8:30. I didn't ask for more questions, and I had a feeling this was going to be like the bus in Turkey all over, where I will have to rely on the first person who tells me he is my bus driver.
As my day at the center approached an end, and I would have to deal with the hard questions (such as "where will we be staying in Bocas Del Toro?"), Encar has one more favor to ask me. A cameraman and his annoying assistant came to do some filming of sloths. They weren't gonna be longer than an hour, she had told me, but she wanted someone to be able to handle the animals. I was to be that person. I delayed my lunch to be able to feed the sloths leaves and place them where they wanted, facing the camera, eating leaves, eating flowers, on the ground, cuddling with each other, away from the blankets, etc, etc, etc... All the while, the annoying assistant was making absurd sound to sloths as if they were puppies. When it came to Stanley, my poor little blind Kinkajoo, I had to tell her to stop, because the sound she was making was scaring him. Can you imagine being blind and hearing snake-like sound? Yeah, Stanley had to endure it. After I asked her politely to stop, she understood for about three seconds, so I had to let Stanley go right back to his blanket so he could calm down and continue his nap (he is a nocturnal animal). She then moved on to the frogs, which are another nocturnal animal that have no desire to be awaken to be filmed. Yet, I took a deep breath and let them film on of our red eyed green frogs. They actually ended up getting a really cool shot of one jumping. The kicker of the whole shoot was when they asked me to get the two deer together and to lick each other. They had seen it happen but their camera was not ready. I sat there, trying to think of what superpower they thought I possessed, all the while looking at Xai and Xo. I am not sure they realized that those were animals, which meant I had no power over them. After a few attempts, they got distracted with the return of the monkeys. This meant it was 3:00 pm. I had not eaten lunch, my babies had not eaten lunch, and the little owl (Buhito) had not eaten lunch. I saw Encar come down the stairs and asked her to take care of them as I dealt with my own responsibilities. After more absurd requests, they left happy and in ecstasy from all the animals they had been able to video tape. After the long day at the refuge, I was ready to go home and pack my bag.
That is when I realized I was out of clean underwear. I was gonna have to go to Panama in one pair of underwear, and my swimsuit. I plan things out so well. It was less clothes to pack, so for three days, I had to figure out how I was gonna survive underwear-less. The answer is with a lot of dresses.
Anyway, while I had my dinner at the restaurant in my hotel, the news blasted that they had caught the second Boston Bombing suspect. As glad as I was, I couldn't help but be surprised by the comment of other Americans in the restaurant, being derogatory towards Muslims. I understand racism exists everywhere, but to feel it down in a place where I have, personally, felt nothing but care and compassion, was shocking. I have grown a pair of balls for people who are disrespectful to others' face. Unfortunately, when no one is hurt directly by the comments, I feel no need to get into an argument with bigots. I can tell you how it ends, just like they can tell you how it ends. No side feels like they've won, but no side feels like they've lost.
They shut the TV off and went to bed after I made a comment about how there is bad people everywhere, and I went to bed shortly after. I had a shuttle to catch at 8:15.

On Saturday morning, the shuttle showed up at 8:45. How Costa Rican... After a short ride to the border, we arrived at this small building. The fruit and vegetable store down the street is bigger than border patrol. We got our passport stamped out of Costa Rica, and had to walk across a shaky bridge. It had been raining, and was still raining and all I could think about was how I could slip and drop my passport in the murky water. Once we made it to the other side, we had to get our passport stamped by the Panamian border and paid 3$ to get a sticker on my passport. Simen had to show his plane ticket twice and all I had to do was hand over my passport for the stamp. I was allowed to stay in Panama/ Costa Rica forever. Once we arrived, in the lazy traveler I had become, I didn't plan a hotel to stay at, and therefore, we went from hotel to hotel trying to find a private room with a terrace. We found a very nice man who took us around until we had found exactly what we wanted. The hotel was a little grimy compared to the one I was staying at in, but it had a terrace, two beds and a private bathroom/ shower that was promising hot water (I say promising, because it was barely lukewarm water).
The biggest problem in Panama was not the rain, that I could deal with, but the lack of update on Trip Advisor. I kept on finding amazing restaurants that were closed, which forced us to eat at other amazing restaurants, like Wine Bar and Tapas.Goodness, I was making love to me goat cheese over apple tatin on a puff pastry. I will forever hold the memory of putting that delicious pastry in my mouth...
Alright, back to reality, the rain was really an issue though, and dampen my trip. We were suppose to enjoy a boat ride to the dolphin lagoon, then snorkle for a bit, sunbath on the red frog beach and go to one last beach. This trip was starting at 9:30 and ending at 4:30. We came home at 2pm, soaking yet, and freezing. We did see dolphins, but the snorkling lasted about 30  mns (even though the reefs were absolutely gorgeous) and the red frog beach was spent at the restaurant trying to warm ourselves up. After that, we obviously wanted to go home, and the moment we arrived at our hotel, the sun came out. We spent our time wisely on the terrace drying off and reading. It was relaxing but not the most enjoyable vacations from the animals.
We finally made it home today (Monday), and I enjoyed a nice breakfast and a day back in my bed, on my computer and back in my familiar space. I went to do a bit of shopping and to enjoy the town at night.

The one thing I need to mention because everyone has been asking me for pictures of the animals. As much as people have enjoyed pictures of Palma, I must show you real amazing pictures. So everyone head over here: http://annapsalmond.com/#/160531 for Anna Psalmond's pictures. It is the photoshot I helped out and the pictures are magnificent. I am jealous of her skills with a camera, while I try my best to be artsy with the animals (and they even make fun of me for it). 

Long time no see

It is been a few days since my incident at the center. For those of you who didn’t read my last blog post, I ended up crying after a huge misunderstanding. It was silly, but everyone needs to cry every once in awhile. It was necessary for my mental health, and after a month and a half of smiles and laughter, I needed a moment of blues.

On my free day (Sunday), I was invited to chanting and meditation with Ron and Diane. I met Ron at my hotel’s reception desk. He was trying his best to communicate with the security guard, Alex. Between Alex’s poor English and Ron’s inability to speak Spanish, they were both glad to see my sleepy face. In my somewhat broken Spanish, I asked Alex where the black chair was, and within minutes the mystery was solved. Ron was amazed at my timing and ability to speak Spanish (the whole "donde esta la silla negra?" is obviously Level 5 Spanish) and asked me where I was from. From then on, he would show up to my hotel, on and off with his wife, Diane took care of my sunburns and would invite me places. On Thursday, I saw them in the street, and we started chit-chatting about my sunburns and future plans. That's when they invited me to do some chanting and meditation. I use to meditate two years ago, and I haven't been able to since. Eager to try again, I agreed to wake up at 8:30 on my day off to attend the 9AM session. 

I was not disappointed. The meeting took place at Casa Amma, which is named after the whole belief that with love, peace on Earth is possible. It is not a crazy concept, and the songs in old sankrit are quiet amusing to sing along to. At first, I felt extremely out of places. The people there where very hippy and not as welcoming as I expected. I think Diane noticed it and tried to get me to sit next to her. As ironic as it sound, I was so tense, I barely noticed I had dug my nails into my knees. Here I was trying to relax, and I couldn't help but be stressed out. This is why I tend to be a mess. It wasn't until the moment the reunion between old friends turned into the actual "service" that I started to feel better. After listening to Amma's views on the world and on oneself, we started chanting the mother's many names. Such as "Mother who cares for the blind." or "Mother who touches lepers." I mean you get the picture. The cool thing was that because this was all written in phonetic sanskrit, this experience could be juxtaposed to any religion. The point of going was to have a spiritual experience again, and to feel refreshed from it. After the chanting, we had ten minutes of meditation. Those ten minutes were the easiest ten minutes of meditations I have every performed. The open balcony provided us with the sound of the wave crashing on the black sand of Playa Negra, and the baby birds in the nest nearby started to chirp. Those are barely distraction when you can focus on your breathing and feel every muscle in your body release the stress and anger from earlier. 

After our meditation circle, we had a ritual to perform. Everyone seemed to have done it before, and I tried to pay close attention in order to be able to repeat it. I am not sure what I just agreed to, or what I just express through my performing of those actions, but I robed myself in incense smoke, and dotted my forehead with ash and a red pigmentation powder.  After the whole ordeal, which I think I handled pretty well, we were invited to Leo's house (which is on the same premises) for banana bread, and chai tea. I accepted the kind offer since I did truly want to try to befriend those strange people. The Chai tea was absolutely incredible. I barely talked to anyone, because I was too busy drinking cup after cup. The banana bread was impressive for being home made, but I was not to fill myself up on banana bread as I was determined to have my eggs benedict later. 

Surely enough, after a few bits of communication with others and trying to relate to a group of people that was not fully my own, I went home. That's right, last time I hunted down eggs benedict without knowing that downstairs, Dulce knew how to make them. How silly of me. Kaya's place is constantly surprising me. I sat down with some of the staff and waited for my freshly home made eggs benedict. After a chat about Panama (which I will be going to in a couple days), I discovered where to stay, and which island in Bocas to go too. Not only that, but all those websites warning you about yellow fever are wrong, and you don't need to worry about much. Silly internet. 

After my delicious brunch, I went to get my hair braided. I, now, have a long colorful braid with seashells attached to the end of it. Very beachy. And therefore, I went to the beach afterwards. For the first time in the month and a half I have been here, I did not burn. Or I didn't get worst I should say. On the beach, I found Marloes, who trained me for the nursery. She invited me to go to her apartment for dinner. I bicycled until we hit this terrible hill, where I had to walk the rest of the way. her apartment is very charming expect for the fact that it is far away from the main road. Most of the volunteers do stay here and it makes a nice family style dinner. Marloes, some of the tour guides and I had some dutch pancakes, which are really like French crepes, but the butter is melted on the pan instead of the being already in the batter. Our small choice of toppings was not a problem, as when everyone showed up it was late into the night and we were all starving. 

On Monday, I learned that Encar was leaving for San Jose to bring the baby sloth to a specialist. She tried to show me how to give everyone the medication, but between giving tours and trying to keep myself sane, we barely had time. It wasn't until the end of the day that I could finally breath and she could finally try to show me. As she was exhausted, she decided to show me in the morning, right before leaving. I was alright with that since I very much wanted to go home. We got a new arrival, a tiny little Lola (which I call Bebe lola). It is a little exotic parakeet who is still a baby and is still growing his feather. Similar to the baby owl, he was kicked out of the nest, most likely because of his little infectious beak. Birds tend to kick out their contagious siblings in order to limit the disease, even if it means death for that sibling. 

At night, I decided to do a night tour. I was quite excited since I hadn't seen much wild life in the wild (which is somewhat of a lie). After putting on my hiking boot, and taking my nearly-dying flashlight, we hopped in a truck to Manzanillo at dawn. It was me and 6 other friends and we were excited to see the river at a passable level. The last two times they had done it, the girls had decided to take off their pants to pass the river, while this time we could just hop over it. Once on the other side, we started to look for little critters. Robbie, our tour guide, was fantastic and could pretty much see anything, while I had my nose pointed at the ground- checking for Fer-De-Lance snakes. Snakes come out to play at night, and looking at the ground was my main concern for the first half of the trip. We saw a few little non-poisonous snakes, tarantulas, tons of ants, lizards (including one name Jesus Christ Lizard, because he can run on water) and tons of frogs. At a certain point in time, I thought I saw two glowing eyes in the forest, and I urged Robbie to go check it out. As soon as Robbie came closer, my heart was pounding, hoping for a Kinkajoo. He announced he had found an incredible rare animal and I quietly rushed over as to not scare it. A minute later, I find out he was only jocking and we had found a wild dog who had a pretty nasty infection on his groin area. Leave it up to me to find the sick animals around here. The tour was coming to an end, and we found a beautiful kitten who quickly ran away from me as I was babbling about it hugging it. Once home, all I wanted to do is sleep, and that's all I did. 

On Tuesday, Encar left. Before going she showed me how to give medication, to who and when. Everything was pretty much spelled out on the board for me. It seemed fairly simple enough, and I was not worried about having problems with medication. I was worried about people coming in with sick animals, or Picchio forgetting to turn on the baby's light. The whole day was spent telling Picchio that if my babies got sick it was his fault. He got the idea, because the next day the lights were on. My day was spent with the monkeys. I was glad to be able to lay down on the blanket and cuddle with the little monkeys rather than guide people around. I enjoyed my time very much, and spent some extra time with Othello, one of our male monkey. Othello recently got casted out from the troop. Chipito, our alpha male, attacked him and the rest of our little troop followed. Only Shaki, our little one-eyed spider monkey, now wants to play with him, while the rest would attack him. This means that Othello is going to have to go to La Cieba so we can try to rehabilite him in a different manner. Othello was a pet and has mental problems. He has random fits and bites us. He casually bite my wrist after I kissed his head -the noise must have surprised him. After the center, we had a get-together for Daniela and Robbie since they were moving to Honduras. Both were great tour guides, and will be missed dearly, especially since they had such big hearts and always made me smile (even the day I cried). 

Today was a whole ordeal. It is the third day since Encar is gone. It was a bit hectic for me, as it was raining, and my sloths were not going to come out, and the roster had been changed so many times, I didn't know who to give a sloth to. Not only that, but I was to be a tour guide today. So I quickly handed my sloths over, and I went to give my tour. When I finished my tour, someone came up to tell me they had let the scabies-sloth out with the others, and when I went to check on them, I found out Tyson, our non scabies sloth, was wrapped up in Dante's, the scabies sloth, blanket. I was fuming, and tomorrow I am making sure everyone knows not to touch my babies. 

After an upsetting day at the center, I took a bike ride with Angelica, our kitchen lady. She is a delight to talk to and in Spanish as well. We had a long conversation on the ride to Puerto Viejo (we both live in Puerto Viejo) and talked about our favorite animals, about the town back in the days and what Philadelphia looks like. Her first comment was that Philadelphia was filled with blacks. Now Angelica is not white, her skin is much darker than my tanned skin, and her saying something like that made me laugh. She asked me if I was the only white student at my university and if black people fight all the time in Philadelphia. For the record, I tried to keep it as politically correct as possible, but this woman had seen/ heard about the worst from Philly. Then she asked me about our dances, and the corsage. We laughed when I told her that indeed, I would get a little flower at prom, and the tradition is to also have one for the guys. She said she wanted one, and her birthday is coming up, so I must go out in town and find something, or stitch something together. Especially since her birthday is on Saturday. She showed me a quick tour of the city, so I could see the one side of town I had fully seen yet. She showed me where she grew up, and told me that every thing was just grass when she was younger, and how there wasn't any tourists here before. She called the town much bigger than it use to be. I am not sure if the town could be smaller and still be considered a town. 

Tomorrow is my last day at the center for a little bit. I will be going to Panama on Saturday until Monday. So I will have to leave my little babies in the trusting hands of Laia (which is the only real way for me to relax), and hopefully I will have plenty to blog about. 

Ci-ciao!