Coati Don't Give A...

It’s 5:00 p.m. on Wednesday, June 3, 2015, and it’s raining for the second time today. It’s a light rain, which is quite the contrast from my first night (Monday) here on Carate Beach. We received a good soak then, just shy of two inches. It was the first descent rainfall of the season, but much more is needed for the area to reach its annual average of 285 inches. It’s hard to imagine this number in comparison to the record-breaking rains my home state of Texas experienced during the month of May with approximately 17 inches falling in the Dallas-Fort Worth area alone.

I slept only a few hours that first night, but it wasn’t because of the rain. I’m simply not used to sleeping in this type of humidity without air condition, but I imagine things will get better with time. Maybe, I’ll ask Rafa, the local guide here at the Lookout, if there’s a plant he recommends for sleep deprivation. Hopefully, it tastes better than the last leaf he had me try when we went on our birding tour.

That first night, I laid inside the confines of my mosquito net and listened to the rain pound against my tiki hut, while the thunder rumbled in the distance and an occasional flash of lightning illuminated the nighttime sky. It was just shy of midnight and one side of me—the left side that I typically sleep on—wanted nothing more than to get a few more hours of shut eye, while the other side, however, was content on staying awake and just listening.

Naturally, Tuesday morning started out a little soggy, and my foggy binoculars did little to help my tired eyes. But as Rafa started pointing out different species of birds—everything from a yellow-headed caracara to a roadside hawk—I had to imagine their night was much worse than mine. As we progressed on our hike, Rafa progressed in his level of expertise by describing the medicinal uses of various plants, which intrigued me all the more since in my book Tallie Falco, Head Nurse of the Tree of Life Hospital, uses similar herbal remedies to treat her patients.

Mosquitos were in full force, so I mindlessly sprayed my exposed skin with a second layer of bug repellant and then offered some to Rafa, who shook his head in objection and proceeded to pinch off a small piece from of a termite mound. “Que es un repelente natural,” he said as he rubbed it over his arms. A few yards later, he bent down and picked up a round black seed about the size of a walnut known locally as “bull’s eye.” The scientific name of the plant is Mucuna pruriens, a tropical legume known to release dopamine in the brain that can counteract the effects of Parkinson’s disease.

Finally, Rafa introduced me to the Gavilana plant, which is used medically for a range of ailments, including upset stomach and intestinal parasites. He put a leaf in his mouth and then offered one to me. It had a bitter, biting taste, and after a few chews, I couldn’t help but spit it out. I later learned another name for the Gavilana is “Jackass Bitters.” At least one of us got a good laugh.

Each day so far out here in the Osa has taken me by surprise. You never know what you’re going to come across, and such was the case after my tour with Rafa when a sock I was drying fell off a railing in my room and landed on the ground below. I was just about to hop down and grab it when I saw what looked like a mix between a raccoon and honey badger. It was searching for food by using its snout to dig holes into the ground less than two feet away from my sock. Come to find out that the animal I saw was actually a white-snouted coatimundi, or coati for short. Thankfully for me, it is far more laid back than a honey badger, although one look at its long claws was enough to keep me at a safe distance.

Tomorrow will be another writing day for me before I head to Corvovado National Park on Friday for an overnight stay at the Sirena Ranger Station approximately 20 kilometers deep into the jungle. I found a great writing spot on the third deck of the main lodge, where I’ve been able to watch scarlet macaws, vultures and black hawks fly by every few minutes. The macaws always fly in pairs, their flight synchronized perfectly to one another. This trip sure does beat watching YouTube videos from home!

Follow me on Instagram at @Joshua_Maven or @HonchotheVan, on Twitter @MaventheRaven or Facebook at Facebook/TheLastImperial.

Pura Vida