Bienvenidos a la Selva

Wake up at 6am for trip to Parque Carasco. Only the Americans and the organizer are on time, the rest trickle in around 6:30. Soon we're crammed into taxis and headed toward the park. It is still dark out, yet our driver is blasting reggatone, which is basically Latin music from Central America with a heavy bass beat and repetitive lyrics, usually including words like: 'mi corazon,' 'baby,' and 'no puedo vivir sin tigo.'

Short delay when are cab gets a flat tire-- too many heavy Americans. We roll over to the Gomería and a guy opens the garage door from the inside, sending chickens scattering in the early morning light.

Air pumped into tire, we're off again. The taxi speeds off on this narrow road through the jungle, passing people sitting outside their homes, and beeping at dogs, chickens, and people transporting unwieldly loads on bikes.


We cross several small rivers and finally arrive at a small station which is apparently the guardaparque office. We are told about the guacharos [oilbirds] and orchids for which the park is famous. We start the hike by crossing the river in this platform-contraption strung up on cables. The locals just sling a rope loop over the cable and hand-over-hand across the river.



Our guide seems to be about 15 years old, but he is knowledgeable and friendly, and he complimented my Spanish, so he must be a good person. It's dark under the leafy layers of vegetation, but the light filtering in is gorgeous. We do catch a glimpse of the infamous guacharos, they scream like mad-felines. We also check out a cave full of vampire bats. It's pretty cool to see them hanging up there on the ceiling like rats in scratchy-1970s polyester. Our presence freaked them out, so I spent most of the time in the cave covering my head with my shirt to avoid getting rabies as they flapped around.