More crazy adventures

I’m sitting at my dining room table right now, supposed to be studying. Outside it is pouring so loudly that it sounds like thunder on the tin roof. Every 20-30 seconds there is a massive bolt of heat lightening that lights up the sky, then the thunder that shakes the windows. The wind is blowing through the house and even though I’m nice and dry I feel like I’m in the middle of a hurricane.
Yesterday I paid another visit to the infamous bat cave. We’ve made friends with a really nice man named Arnold who runs the resort down the road; he is an adventuresome type and brought masks and flashlights to go with me. I brought a ball of string and wrapped my hair in a turban and convinced my classmate Vem to come with us. It had been raining a bit and we picked our way down the overgrown trail to the entrance of the cave. We stopped at the entrance to put on our hats and lights; I had a headlamp and I tied the end of the string to the rusted railing at the entrance to the cave.
We hadn’t gone more than a few steps into the cave before I realized something was wrong. I heard a shuffling noise and when I realized there was something in that cave other than bats I just about wet myself.
“Goats.” Vem said grimly.
I shone my light down into the blackness and it reflected off the wild eyes of a goat standing right there. It nervously jumped away from me and then towards me as if it wanted to run up past me out of the cave. Arnold was just outside the cave and Vem and I stood to the side of the entrance and suddenly they came in a rush. There must have been a few dozen and they suddenly all came out in a giant herd, pouring out of the mouth of the cave past us. It was a little eerie.
I shone my light around to make sure they were all gone before we proceeded. The last time we’d been in the cave we’d taken a route to the right; this time we went left, unwinding the string as we went. Arnold and I took turns leading the way with Vem following behind. It was late in the day and Burton had refused to come because apparently at dusk all the bats come out of the cave all at once (several thousand?) and he didn’t want to be stuck down the tunnel when they all emerged. Well, the bats weren’t coming out yet, but they were certainly more agitated than normal and we tried to keep our lights down and not shine them at the ceiling of the cave.
We climbed for ages, the sweat pouring down our faces and clambering over the guano-infested rocks, trying to breathe through our masks and avoiding the odd bat that flew too close. At times we had to duck down for a minute until they calmed a bit. We made it into a second cavern and I shone my light up once and saw the ceiling covered in the furry gray bodies of a million bats. I could feel their guano dropping down on me as I went, but I kept my head down, avoiding the nests of massive cockroaches. We came into a third cavern and then I climbed into another one by sliding on my belly. The passageway was too narrow and I felt the instant release of adrenaline as I suddenly imagined the ceiling collapsing in on me like in the movies I had seen as a child.
“I can’t go any farther.” I told Arnold, who was right behind me. “Let’s try the other direction.”
We came to the end of the string and left Vem, who was almost beside himself, holding the end, while Arnold and I went on. The bats were stirring even more and their screams were a little unnerving.
“I think we should go back.” Vem kept saying. “The bats are really starting to move, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
You only live once, I thought. I was trembling with excitement. Arnold suddenly shone his light at one of the walls.
“Hey! Crystals!”
The walls of the cave were encrusted with sparkling crystals, like you see in those giant rocks that are split open in jeweler’s shops. Arnold used the butt of his flashlight and I cupped my hands and he knocked off some crystals into them. The biggest one he put into his pocket. I wondered if they were worth anything; or more importantly, if anyone would brave the bats to come get them. We took some photos (watch facebook, I’ll try to post them soon!)
We’d gone far enough away from Vem and the end of the string and it was getting late, after all, so we decided to turn back. I turned around and suddenly right in front of me was a huge white rat, staring at me with unblinking red eyes. I gave a squeal and then he started coming straight for me, completely unafraid.
“Go away!” I shouted at him, shining the light at him. I jumped sideways and clambered up on a rock and just about put my hand on a giant cockroach that quickly scuttled away. The rat kept coming and the bats were beginning to get more agitated and I felt the cold rush of air as their wings brushed past my face. I looked back at where we’d come from and in the darkness, the small passageway we’d come from was completely obscured in the craggy rock walls. The only clue to where we’d come from was the white string emerging from the blackness. A bat hit Arnold in the head and he shouted.
“Let’s go!” I said, shining my light at the ceiling and suddenly feeling a small bit of panic.
Vem began to run, with me behind him, and Arnold bringing up the rear. The bats were swarming. We were panting as we rushed through the passageways, pulling up the string, leaping over the cockroach nests. It was like a bad Indiana Jones movie. Arnold dropped one of his flashlights but he didn’t stop. We didn’t stop until we made it to the entrance of the cave and clambered out, breathing heavily. We were covered in slime and sweat and I felt like I was crawling in bugs and it was so wonderful to breath the fresh air and see light. You don’t understand true darkness until you are trapped in it, smothered in it.
We cleaned up a bit with some wet leaves and then Arnold and I went exploring the side of the mountain a bit before heading home. I felt exhilarated, exhausted, and filthy, but it was wonderful.
This morning was Sunday and Burton, Arnold and I drove to a Lutheran church on the other side of the island, which was pretty interesting (the pastor wore a long white dress!). It would have been your typical North American Lutheran service, except instead of a solemn organ there was a steel drum and a guy on a pipe organ playing jazzed-up gospel music, and there were little blue and green lizards skittering over the walls. In the afternoon we studied, and since Asa had the car, I decided to walk to the grocery store with my cue cards (about 6 km). By the time I got to the grocery store I was exhausted; I got what I needed and started back. I had several people stop and offer me rides, but I told them I wanted to walk. Halfway back home I was stopped by an older British man in a car who needed directions. A few minutes later he stopped going the other direction and I talked to him for a while. He was already drunk (had a beer between his legs) and he invited me to come to a party he was singing at that evening in English Harbor. It was hosted by his friend Sam, who was a millionaire, he told me. I didn’t doubt the part about Sam, because there are a lot of extremely wealthy people that hold parties in English Harbor, but I politely declined his offer even after he told me was a true gentleman and kissed my hand to prove it.
I kept walking and about 2 miles from our house I saw three donkeys by the side of the road and decided this was my lucky break. I approached them and started petting them and talking nice. Then I came up beside the biggest donkey and started trying to climb on her. If you can imagine me in a little sundress with a bag of groceries trying to climb on a donkey, you’ll have an idea how funny it was.
I got on the donkey and then suddenly thought, now what? I didn’t have to worry for long; she began to run. Straight towards a thicket of thorn bushes. Not only that, but these donkeys here are a little bony and with each step I was bounced on top of her backbone. I wondered which would be worse: being bucked into the thorn bushes, or breaking my tailbone on the donkey’s spine?
I bailed, groceries and all. Picked myself up and limped to the road.
Well, I made it home, and lay in the swimming pool for awhile to recover and then tried to make some supper. As I was cooking I noticed flies beginning to collect around the stove. By the time we sat down to eat there were more than just a few: there were several thousand termites collecting all over the table, around the lights, all over the walls, falling into our food, all over the beds. We searched in vain for their nest but they are in every room of the house, so it is hard to tell. I stood in Burton’s room while he sprayed OFF all over the walls and tried to shake out his sheets and then I just started to laugh. God, I love this place. It is the adventure of a lifetime.