Down in the depths

The last few days have been an exhausting mixture of studying, adventure, surprising new developments and a very steep learning curve. Sometimes that learning curve is exponential.
Several days ago I paid another visit to the bat cave. Dr. Gilbert, one of my professors, had met a man who is one of the owners of St. James Club, the most exclusive resort in the Caribbean. They got to talking about historical sites and Dr. Gilbert invited to take Arnold to the bat cave. Then in a panic Dr. Gilbert came to me for help, since I was the only person he knew who had actually been there.
I got flashlights and face masks and we met late one afternoon and headed for the bat cave. Dr. Koepsell, my ethics professor, and Burton also came with us. We waded down the overgrown trail and it was the funniest thing ever to see Dr. Gilbert, Dr. Koepsell and Arnold in their white slacks and shirts, mopping their foreheads and struggling to pick through the thorn bushes.
We got to the cave, put on our masks and began to ascend. Dr. Gilbert and Dr. Koepsell stayed at the entrance to the cave, but Arnold was intrepid and wanted to go in farther. Him and Burton and I picked our way through the mounds of bat waste and goat skeletons and took pictures, shining our weak lights into the inky blackness. There were too many thousands of bats to count and they hung in rows on the roof of the cave, fluttering up and screeching when we shone light on them. I picked my way through the cave, trying to step on rocks and not sink a foot into the bat poop. Arnold was entranced by the cave and wanted to go farther, which of course meant Burton and I had to follow. We went deep into the darkness….. Finally we found our way to a narrow crevasse in the rocks, and shining our flashlights down the crevasse I could see that it opened up into another large space. The tunnel itself looked about 15 feet long and I thought I could make it.
Our entire bodies were slippery with sweat and caked in filth. Burton and Arnold shone their lights and I slid down the rocks into the crevasse and began to go down the tunnel. It was hard to breathe through my mask. Ahead of me I could hear bats screaming and there was a waver of a breeze. I made it through the tunnel and it opened up into a large cavern. I shone my dim flashlight and as far as I could see the cave went on, and there were hundreds of thousands of bats hanging off the ceiling and fluttering around. I felt like I was in a horror movie.
“How does it look?” I heard a faint voice.
“It’s fine.” I called. “Come on through.”
Arnold is a little man, about my size, and he slipped through the tunnel into the cavern with me. The bats were stirring. Burton started to come through the tunnel and I shone the flashlight down the tunnel so he could see the way. Burton is a big guy- 6’3”, 200 pounds, wide shoulders. Suddenly he stopped, there was sweat glistening on his face and his eyes had a wild look.
“I think I’m stuck”. He said.
He got down onto his hands and knees. It is amazing what panic will do for you. He got through that tunnel into the cavern and he was coated in bat poop and collapsed on a rock and shone his light into the darkness.
“Good Lord.”
You had to have been there, pictures just aren’t enough. We stayed in the cavern for a while but then figured we’d been in the cave long enough and it was time to get out. The bats were becoming more lively and I was starting to feel nervous. I started back down the tunnel. I was halfway through, hunkered down. Suddenly I felt something hit me on the head. I screamed. Another one hit me. I screamed. A third bat hit me on the head and I started to hyperventilate. My light was dying and all around me was inky blackness. There was no way to tell what was up or down, backwards or forwards. I have never experienced darkness like that before. I had to make it out of that tunnel.
“Are you okay?” Burton shouted.
“Yes!” I shouted back, gasping for breath. I started to scramble through the tunnel and I hauled myself up out of the crevasse into the first cavern. The guys followed. I struggled to find footing on the rocks and suddenly I saw something skittering at my feet. I gave a little squeal and jumped. There were tons of them.
“Cockroaches.” Burton said grimly. “Hundreds of them. Just don’t look.”
We made it out of the cave and climbed up into the daylight and stood there, filthy and soaked with sweat. Arnold looked radiant.
Our trip to the bat cave actually turned out to be quite profitable. Arnold gave Dr. Koepsell a room number at the resort and invited him to take out his sailboats whenever he wanted. Yesterday I got out of class early so I went with Dr. Koepsell and took out a Hobie Catamaran around the bay for an hour, surf spraying up and the wind filling our sail.
I’ve done other adventurous things this week- driving into town on an empty gas tank with six people in the car, the island out of power and a rain storm so bad I couldn’t see three or four feet ahead in the road. Volunteering to take blood pressures at a community outreach and finding myself assigned to the counseling station with a sick patient sitting in front of me, and realizing that I was the doctor and had to interpret their lab results and tell them what to do with themselves. Realizing just before school that my roommate’s car tire was flat, and getting down in the dirt with her and struggling to change the tire on the side of the road with a monkey wrench. Putting my shorts on in the morning and discovering a giant cockroach in them. You better believe those shorts came off real fast.
Actually the cockroaches are getting to me. Yesterday we had a guest over and we were all standing by the door and I opened a cupboard and a huge one came out at me (about 4 inches long, including his antennas). I was hardly aware of what I was doing, but suddenly found myself having literally climbed over two big men and was standing on top of the washing machine. My only consolation was that the cockroach attacked them too and seeing a football player dance is pretty funny.
At any rate, there is plenty of adventure here. I’m thankful it’s Saturday because I desperately need a chance to sleep, think, pray and catch up on homework, and tomorrow we have a day off. I know God does not send things our way without giving us grace to handle it, but sometimes the sum of everything feels overwhelming. At least I’m not bored.