More Ecoparque Magic

Marilyn, January 13, 2015

We've been at Ecoparque Uruguay for a week now. I'm feeling kind of ridiculously like I belong here, and I'm already starting to be a little sad about leaving a week from today. So much magic here!

 The evenings are particularly special times, and the beautiful sunsets with accompanying frog chorus continue to fill me with awe. The other night the sky was beyond extraordinary. A bank of tall pinkish clouds was spread across the western horizon, and an apparent lightning storm filled it with flashes of light. Explosions like fireworks lit up a portion of the clouds every few seconds, and every once in awhile, a jagged bolt of lightning cut through from top to bottom. I sat outside and watched until the mosquitos drove me inside; a couple hours later as I was walking back from the boys' bedroom, it was still going on. I've never seen anything like it, but Steve, our host here, says such a display happens from time to time.

 Last night, we decided to let the boys stay up later than usual so they could see the magnificent night sky. It's not getting completely dark until after 11 p.m., so we had awhile to wait. The boys and I started out in a hammock pleasantly reading together, and after the sun set, we traded our reading for star gazing. We could easily identify Orion, and with the help of Gene's on-line, interactive night sky map, we could pick out other stars and planets. It was quite a display, but almost as grand was the show the fireflies were putting on for us lower to the ground. The lawn and woods were full of the little blinking lights, and the boys could identify three or four different colors. Also, once, we saw a slightly larger, continuous light that moved much more quickly, though clumsily, and up higher than the fireflies. Gene and Teo had seen something similar the night before, and of course Gene is dying to know what creature can do such a trick. His best guess is that it's a bat with its belly full of fireflies.

 Speaking of bats, we have one that has taken up residence in our kitchen. Yesterday morning I was getting breakfast ready and heard something banging around in the sink, and there it was, and not looking any too happy finding itself amongst dirty dishes. Gene removed it on a stick and placed it on the trunk of a tree outside the kitchen, where it staggered around for a few minutes before spreading its batty wings and flying off. Today, again as I was preparing breakfast, it flew past my head and did a crash landing on the table, where it lay all limp and exhausted. Teo later found it hanging from the thatched ceiling, and it again got relocated to the tree outside and flew off. I'm hoping it gets the message that it's not welcome. Most of the other wildlife has been more respectful of our space, with the exception of a large toad that came into our bedroom uninvited. We continue to enjoy seeing the large variety of birds, and love watching the huge lizards plod across the lawn. We're still hoping to get a good glimpse of a fox. Insects haven't been as plentiful as we expected, but we've seen ladybugs in a kaleidoscope of colors. Gene was happy to discover a mole cricket in the garden, and Javy was fascinated by a parade of leaf-cutter ants outside the bedroom door.

 Our work here has in its own way had a touch of magic as well. A morning of non-stop raking in the hot sun leaves me bone weary in a way I don't often experience, but it's a good, honest kind of weariness that tells me my body is still capable of pushing itself. Today we weeded the garden in the rain, grateful for the break in the heat and for the chance to share a rainy-day peace with the birds who came in looking for a worm or two. As I weed, I enjoy thinking about the volunteers who came before and did the planting, and the ones who will follow us and bring in the harvest. It's been a long time since I've done any serious gardening, and I am very much appreciating the chance to get my hands dirty and feel the satisfaction of a row well-weeded. Keeping the boys engaged in the work is more of a challenge, but singing songs ("The Garden Song" and "All God's Critters" top the list) and listening to stories from Gene's college days help.

 Also high on the list of magical encounters have been those with the people whose paths have crossed ours here. Steve's girlfriend Diana, who is Uruguayan, joined us earlier in the week. She is an English teacher who is very patient and encouraging with my Spanish. Sunday, Steve and Diana invited us and seven friends for a potluck lunch that turned into a delightful all-afternoon affair. Including our two young Guatemalans, the thirteen of us represented seven different nationalities and were conversant in probably a dozen languages. One man had worked all over the world and had built a hotel out of shipping containers near the pyramids in Egypt. Another grew up in French Guiana and spent part of his life guiding tours through the Amazon rain forest. Gene quickly bonded with a Dutch biologist and the two of them set off like a pair of little boys to explore the woods together.

After lunch, dessert, and more talk around the table, someone suggested we move down to the riverbank. Javy, Teo, and the Dutch biologist were interested in taking a swim, and talked Gene and me into it as well. From Steve's boat ramp, it was about 30 yards across the river to a sandy bank, much of the way too deep for me to touch bottom. Although we had to keep ducking underwater to avoid the horseflies, it was a lovely way to cool off. Other local folks were also enjoying the water, with canoes and kayaks and the occasional motor boat. We swam for close to an hour and were just coming back to join the others on the bank when Steve showed up with his boat and two oars. He let Javy and Teo climb in the boat, and, surprisingly to them and to Gene and me, just pushed them out into the current on their own. They struggled a bit but eventually figured out how to more or less navigate the thing. I was watching from high up on the riverbank, wondering if someone would be able to get to them in time if there was a problem, but also appreciating the great Huck Finnian experience that this was for them. Gene made his way closer to them just in case, and so was on hand to intercede, as much as his limited Spanish would allow, when a young local man asked if they'd like to kayak with him. He gave them turns riding in front of him on the kayak and paddled them around, much to their delight. Meanwhile, his sisters and Gene did their best to converse, and they asked him all the usual questions, where are we from, where are the boys from, etc., and Gene was able to stumble and gesture his way through adequate answers. Then the sisters told Gene what Steve, up on the riverbank, was also explaining to me: that the young man who was spending his afternoon paddling my boys around on the Santa Lucia River is a world champion kayaker. Teo and Javy were appropriately impressed by that fact, as well as by their new friend's incredible, rippling muscles. I'm pretty impressed by his kindness toward a couple of strange kids who showed up out of nowhere on his river.

Gene's laptop is in need of some magic right now -- the humidity or something less definable has disabled it. When he gets it up and running, we'll post some pictures of these adventures. Thanks for reading!