Zaza scares herself half to death at the bat cave

So I decided to visit the batcave. Well, I decided to visit it the moment I heard about it, but this week I actually did. I may have to go back, as you will understand soon.

I had been given rough directions by one of my professors, and when I couldn’t convince any of my classmates to go with me, I decided to go by myself.

The first day was a bit of a disaster. I found the entrance to the path at the far side of the soccer field and picked my way between overgrown thorn bushes and giant aloe vera plants, and tried to find a path that hadn’t been used in ten years. It wove away from the campus and I finally came to a long wire fence. There had once been a gate and it was tied closed with twine and wire. I managed to undo it and slipped through, entering what seemed to be a barren wasteland that existed only in movies, in my mind. I could hear wild goats bleating and the ground was littered in bony sun bleached carcasses, little cacti and cracks in the earth where water had once been.

There was a faded cement sign pointing towards the bat cave and I followed broken-down signs towards a jungle of hanging trees. Suddenly I heard my name being called. I turned around and there was a goat standing there. I know it sounds highly improbably, but I swear that that goat bleated my name. I began to feel my pulse quicken. Before me loomed this huge overgrown cement archway leading to the caves. I went around it, being careful about what I stepped on, and going under a canopy of hanging trees that only let a little sun filter through. The stairs over the rocks had long since crumbled and I pulled myself up on vines. A smell began to gather in my nostrils and the ground between the rocks was littered with bat droppings. I knew I was close. Then it was right there. A cave, with a massive tree growing over with roots draping over the entrance, and there were guano-covered signs pointing in. I could hear a far-away screeching sound and as I drew closer it grew louder and I realized it was the bats. It was dark, and one of the worst smells I’ve ever encountered. I started down the stairs, walking on about 4 inches deep of bat droppings, and suddenly I felt something wet from above drop on my foot. I didn’t have a light. It was the spookiest place I’ve ever been in. I turned around with the sound of screeching bats in my ears and I fled out of that place as fast as I could safely go. I ran almost all the way back to campus, sweat pouring and my heart racing.

Ah, that was yesterday. Today I decided to go again. I was better prepared this time. I brought a face mask, my camera and a little flashlight. This time I knew where to go and it wasn’t quite as scary…. But as I descended down into the belly of the cave I turned on my light and the cave was so big and dark that I couldn’t actually make out anything at all. Even through my mask I could smell the guano and the bats sensed I was there; their screams grew in volume. I could feel mosquitos buzzing around me but I was afraid to swat. Apparently bat droppings carry a disease called histoplasmosis which is very dangerous, and I didn’t want to chance brushing up against the dripping walls. I looked up above me and a sign on the cave wall said “to Guadeloupe” with an arrow pointing down into the cave. I’d heard that there was an underground tunnel going 30 miles under the sea that slaves had used to escape the island, and I suddenly realized it was here.

I couldn’t take it any more, not alone. I walked away from the cave and almost tripped on the carcass of a goat. Bones everywhere. I’ll go back, but with more clothes and a bigger flashlight. I don’t know how those slaves did it, going 30 miles in a pitch-black cave filled with screaming bats and the oppressive smell, but their freedom must have been worth it. Fear is a hard thing to overcome, but it is a small price to pay for what awaits at the other end.

See facebook for my pictures…. They aren’t very interesting yet, but next time I go back to the cave I’ll try to summon the courage to go a little farther in. Not all the way to Guadeloupe though.