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Sunday, March 24, 2013

Farewell, Amazon Style

Yesterday I left Sacha Yacu Animal Rescue Center, my home for the past month, and made my way to Quito. I am now in Mindo, getting started on my last hurrah here in Ecuador, working at an artisan chocolate factory in the cloud forest.

Of course, this most recent visit was not my first time in the Amazon, I had spent two months there earlier in my gap year. During that time I was told a story about something called the Botfly, which lays it's eggs inside of open wounds or mosquito bites, and then leave the larvae to mature inside of your flesh.

Of course I thought it was an interesting fact, but never considered the possibility of it happening to me. Well, for the past few weeks I have had several infected bug bites bothering me. I've had this problem before, where a mosquito bite becomes infected and forms a pus ball under your skin. It is extremely difficult to get rid of, and I still have a couple from about four months ago.

So back to my story, I was on the bus heading to Quito, when one of my infected bites began to itch. I scratched it, and noticed a little white thing pop up out of it. I figured it was just some pus coming out, which happens a lot, so I squeezed a little harder. A little cream colored tendril popped up out of the bite, and I started thinking that maybe this wasn't just any ordinary pus. So I squeezed this time with a lot of force, and out popped a little white worm, fully intact, and still moving.

Turns out that I was indeed the victim of the Human Botfly. It is still difficult even for me to believe that this actually happened, but I have a witness in my friend Barbara who was traveling with me. And we both agree it's probably the grossest thing that has ever happened to me. But I suppose that's just what I get as a farewell gift from the Amazon, reminding me that I must come back soon!

Signing Up

Short post, just catching up on some things I was unable to complete during my self inflicted confinement in the Amazon.
Me and Andrea, machetes in hand.
So a few weeks ago we decided it was finally time people knew where Sacha Yacu was, considering that it's basically just at the end of a path in the middle of the Jungle. So we painted some signs, and went out to the main access roads, machetes and shovels in hand, to put ourselves on the map.

I'm happy to say that thanks to our signage, if someone can figure out how to get on the bus to Arajuno, they can probably find Sacha Yacu, which is more than we could say before.

Up Close and Personal

This is the first day in a month that I have been away from Sacha Yacu Wild Animal Rescue Center, and I already miss it terribly. I miss the rain forest, even though I'm in the cloud forest; I miss my old friends, even though I'm surrounded by new ones; but most of all, I miss the animals.
This is our baby parrot, out of his cage for feeding time.

This is one of our Amazonian parrots... their talons hurt a lot.
 I'm only realizing now just how unique an experience it was to be so close to animals that are usually only seen in zoos. At Sacha Yacu we have the opportunity to really get up close and personal with our animals.
Me with Grumpy, my favorite monkey.
Every day I got to have birds fly over and climb up my arm, have monkeys delice me, or pet some of the cutest little coatis the world has ever seen.
I got to go in the cage with our two female Coatis and pet them. I want one...
This time around I really developed some special bonds with our animals, and it was even harder to say goodbye then last time. But I can leave knowing that perhaps I made a small difference in their lives, that they are well taken care of, and that maybe, just maybe, I will see them again someday.
This was the first time someone (me) got pictures of our Tigarillo outside of it's cage. That was a lucky night.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Learning to Fly

My life has been a constant battle with gravity; ever since I was a child I've dreamt of flying. It is the main reason that I spent 14 years as a competitive swimmer, since underwater is the only place I can feel weightless and have the sensation that I'm as free as an eagle.

I think I first realized my desire when watching Saturday morning cartoons, seeing Superman take off like a missile and go shooting through space with no hindrance. So like any 5 year old kid, I went outside, straightened my arms over my head, clenched my fists, and launched myself off of our back porch. Unfortunately gravity got the best of me on that day. But I was not discouraged; the failed attempt simply redoubled my hunger for flight. I strapped garbage can lids to my arms: too heavy; I cut out some wings from cardboard: too flimsy; I found some big discs made out of woven reeds, and for a mere fraction of a second, I felt the air resistance lift my arms, stretch the muscles in my armpits, and slow my decent. From that moment I was hooked.
Of course out of nostalgia I had to do it like a swimming start.

As I got older I realized the irrationality of my dream of flight. I laughed at how ridiculous I must have looked strapping anything large and flat I could find to my arms and flapping them like wings as I leaped off of our porch and landed with a splat, crumpled in a heap of broken wings and broken dreams. I saw the comparison to the mad turn of the century inventors that had died attempting the same that I was, and I promised myself that I would stick to the back porch, and not jump off of cliffs or into ravines with my makeshift flying apparatus, now at age 19 I have broken that promise.

Even as I got into my teens, I have not been able to escape the dreams of flight. I often wake up remembering myself soaring high above my house, feeling the wind rushing past my ears and drying my eyes. But dreams are a cruel substitute for the real thing; always giving me a taste of the sensation but never satisfying my appetite. In my dreams I am in the park outside of my house. I take a running start, and then leap, catching a draft of air and climbing up, up, up into the sky. I hover before assuming the superman position and speeding around in circles, passing low to the ground, performing loops and acrobatics. But as the dream progresses, my new found powers are sapped by the rising sun outside my window. I being to lose my speed and falter; it feels as if I am in a car that is running out of gas. As I pass lower to the ground my imaginary engine sputters and I scrape against the ground before momentarily regaining lift. But I can feel the inevitability of complete failure; and my fears land me back in the park, where I find myself on the ground, repeating the running start, leaping up, grasping for that indescribable feeling, trying to recapture just a taste of the magic that I had felt. I am unsuccessful. I have been grounded.

Despite my many letdowns I am determined to keep hope alive, and always search for that momentary exhilaration; the weightless feeling that takes the place of all worries, fears, and uncertainty, and leaves you unburdened. That was what gave me the motivation and courage to jump from a 100 meter bridge into a ravine, with nothing but a rope to hold me to the earth. It may have only been for two seconds, but in that short time you feel all that is profound, meaningful, and meaningless in life flash through your head and spread out to your extremities, like lightning striking a pond and spreading out to the shore. It may not be the same as flying, but it's a start.


Sunday, March 10, 2013

Old Friends and New

I left Sacha Yacu about three months ago, since that time a lot has changed. New animals have arrived or been born, while others have escaped, died, or been set free, but it's not all different. I still had a welcome homecoming from several of my favorite animals in the center, and the new ones are really a joy to have around.

Me with my old friends Grumpy and Naughty.

It took about 15 minutes to get Grumpy to let go of me on this day.
Since my time away one of our tyras died, one monkey escaped and another died, one parrot escaped, one coati escaped, and one peccary escaped. Heaping all those things into one sentence really does not give a great impression of how things have been going at Sacha Yacu in my absence. But when you consider that... two boa constrictors were liberated, a coati was saved from near death, an alligator was liberated, a tortoise was cured of a nasty shell disease, a baby parrot was born, a baby peccary was born, two peccaries are currently pregnant, and that we were entrusted with the rehabilitation of a tigarillo ("tiger cat", a very close relative to the ocelot)... it really puts things in perspective.
This was the first thing I saw when I arrived for the second time at Sacha Yacu... pretty cool caterpillar.

This is our Tigarillo, what should I name him?

I feel so at home here that it makes me sad to think I only have two weeks left. But after that I have an exciting adventure in Mindo to look forward to, before my return home, which I have been anxiously awaiting for several weeks. I had a nice little chat with Marie Gingher and Andy Madore last night that made me feel very nostalgic about the good old days back in Happy Valley. See you soon SC!
Fun in the pool with my old friends, and plenty of new ones.

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Highlands High

There's something in the air in the highlands of San Cristobal island that just makes you feel right. Or perhaps it's not in the air, but in the daily cup of joe we all have that gives you the energy to go cut Guava trees with machetes for four hours. I've now left the Galápagos, but I feel there is one thing I failed to mention; where I was living is one of the worlds best producers of gourmet coffee.

In fact, about 95% of the coffee grown on San Cristobal is bought by none other than the ubiquitous Starbucks corporation; one of their blends is almost entirely dependent on the coffee that we grow at the Hacienda I stayed at.
The peeled and dried coffee beans, before being roasted.
During my time at the Hacienda we picked coffee beans off the bushes, peeled them, dried them, roasted them, and finally ground the beans into what makes for a very strong, rich cup of coffee. Unfortunately I didn't get pictures of the peeling or roasting process, as I was quite busy during that time. But I have to say that it is very surprising how good the coffee we made really was, given that it was roasted in a big iron pan over a campfire.
Our roasted coffee beans, being ground into a fine espresso grind.
Better than a $100 burr grinder!
I hope to post soon on my new adventures in an old place, Sacha Yacu Animal Rescue Center. But being at such an amazing place has it's downfalls, namely that I only get access to internet during weekends. But I will try my best to get those posts up!