Monkey's for Neighbors . . .

(Warning, this is a long rant for a short day, so get a tall glass of water, a carb induced snack and settle down with this blog because by the end we'll be good friends - or you'll be asleep)

I live among monkeys, and I don't mean my nephews. Real live, black furred Howler Monkeys. They're known as "some of Costa Rica's loudest inhabitants," and even though they may be loud, I don't mind the sound. It just reminds me that we're living together in peace. For a moment I think of Adam and Eve, living among all the animals of creation and what that must have been like. . . .

Like a noise from Jurassic Park, it echoes through the tree tops, a cross between a growl and howl. I can't help but smile when it happens. Howler monkeys live among the tree tops near our compound, or should I say we live on the ground near them. Small, dark shapes that cling to the swaying trees their presence is so unique that you must stop and take notice. Living here, among them, seems so surreal. Monkeys in the trees, not always seen, but constantly heard.

Now there could be far worse neighbors then they. Late sleepers, howling at one another occasionally and sticking mostly to themselves. What more could you ask for when living together in a "community"?

I found a great site about them -

http://www.wildernessclassroom.com/www/schoolhouse/rainforest_library/animal_library/howler_monkey.htm

and it is also where the image came from. I've not been able to get a picture of them yet, but I'm improving my stalking skills and perhaps will snap a shot worth posting soon.

I've lived here a little over a month and a half now and I really haven't taken the time to do any research on them. But like all information in the digital age, simply type in their name and you'll have access to all sorts of personal data. Where they live, what they eat, even how long they sleep. Is nothing sacred? They really are fascinating creatures though, and what constantly wows me is that they're not in cages. They're free, roaming in their own habitat and there is nothing "tame" about them. I think for so long I got used to seeing animals behind bars, that I thought if I encountered them in real life they'd attack me. Bear, tiger, parrot, monkey always caged, separated like criminals for our own protection.

There are natural enemies to man here in paradise. Those that inflict pain and seek out after what we have. With segmented bodies of armor and hovering technology they hunt us down to take what one thing they need the most. . . . moisture.

Avispas (wasps) or the dark sentinels of the air as I call them, are that which I speak of. They hover outside our doors and windows, seeking cracks in the fortress. They wait with devious patience till there is an opening, a partially closed window, an opened door, and sneak in with stealth. Either that or they seek out their own way in. We'll be sitting, reading, blogging or perhaps sucking on a mango and they'll appear. From behind curtains they'll jet out, radars scanning, and ambush us for life giving water . . . .

. . . . Sure, sure there are wasps everywhere back in the States, but they're named after clothing items (yellow jackets) or are grinning mascots for football teams (hornets). Here in Costa Rica they've got names that strike fear into the minds of slightly out of shape adults and tropic burnt visitors. With names that translate into "Run Man Run!" or "Drowning Cow"(meaning they sting cows crippling them until they die by drowning in the spring which they came to drink from) how could you not fear for your gentle flesh?

With such ominous titles anything nearly resembling these flying assassins of pain incurs hollers and mad scrambles for doors, windows, and the safety of the bathroom. They tag along in cars until screeching to a halt all occupants bale out leaving the vehicle momentarily unoccupied except for a strong buzzing. If you ever want to evacuate a room, you don't say fire - that's just a common sight here in central america, you yell "Avispa." You'll see adults jump around like children and wave their arms like monkeys.

Should you encounter these water deviants, here is what you should know. Don't panic, as in all near pain encounters, it is seen as aggression and a sign for attack. Should they make a landing approach, don't swipe them off with your hand. Blow them off - literally. If you swipe at them you can make them mad and they'll retaliate. Should you ignore these valid recommendations then by all means "Run Man! Run!"

- Wow for a day that really didn't result in much activity I wrote a lot. Well I'm not done, I have one more thing I want to mention before ending. Its about the trees here. I'm a tree lover, not a hugger. I don't chain myself to them, or dance around them, but I do have a strange fascination with them. (Stairs too. Where do they lead? Especially spiral or old crumbling ones. Who has walked on them? Like doorways to different places, stairs seem magical. You can see where they start, but not where they end. Up to higher levels of learning, down to darkness and danger. Normal household stairs are boring, but spot a black steel spiral tower case, or hand carved dirt steps and the images pour in). I love different types of arbors for their beauty or majesty, but here there are the ancient gnarled barons, with their twisted vine trunks and dangling skin. Like wise pillars they just hold my attention. I have one that I've fallen in love with, on the dirt road short cut, that I'm desperate to photograph. It is massive, twisted and has actually grown into what a appears to be two trees with one trunk.

Anyways, getting side tracked, there is a tree in Costa Rica called the "Pterocarpus Officinalis" or more cooler known as the Dragon Blood Tree. Why, well I'll let you use your imagination . . . .no really - use it. I know it's been a while but give it a shot. Brush off those "realistic" adult restraints that seem to muddle it up and have some fun . . . . .

So what did you come up with? Something good I'm sure. Feel free to post it on the comments so I can read about it. I'm curious to see what creative fun I've induced. The great thing is pretending is not for kids anymore, partial grown ups can do it too!!

As this appears to be a country of novel inspired names, I'm thinking any author suffering from writers blocks should just start asking the names of things here. The Dragon Blood Tree actually gets it name from the blood red sap that oozes from it. Imagine the surprise of the first local that struck a machete into one. They'd wounded an ancient one, a forest soul and now a sacrifice must be offered. Why is it Dragon's Blood, and not the Tree's? What passed down tale was told to give the tree it's name? What powers do you gain from the bitter tree's sap? Couple this with the Eternal Children's Forest and you can feel the mythical magic of this place.

There is one more place that has a name with a story I have not learned. A large mass out in the ocean called Witch's Rock. It has no known story. I think things that are named as such need a story otherwise there is nothing to them, just a visual image. Give them a story, a legend, a history and you've created something with so much more. Perhaps I'll tackle it. I've already started an idea about the daughter of a great healer named Elania who falls in love with a warrior named Hectrus in her tribe. Only, you see, the chief's daughter, Solistia is also in love with him. Expected to honor his family by wedding the chief's daughter, Hectrus refuses instead confessing his love for Elania. Outraged and unwilling to see him marry the witch's daughter, he is stripped of his spear and it is thrown into the ocean where it strikes the side of a large rock. A warrior's spear is a symbol of his life, without it, tribal law demands that they be put to death. If the spear can be returned to him before the sun goes down, he will be allowed to live, forever indebted to the person who retrieved it. Both girls swim out into the ocean, but the rough waves and strong currents claw at them, trying to drag them down. Solistia, daughter of the chief, quickly turns back while Elania, child of the healer, swims on . . . . and that my friends is how the legend of Witch's Rock begins.

If you've read this whole thing, wow, thanks. If you haven't then you'll never read this either :)