If Death saw you struttin’ down the street…

What an amazing weekend! Lets start from the beginning. At 5pm, 23 of us, minus Katie (because of the stitches on her noggin) headed from Cahuita. It was a 4 ½ hour bus ride packed full of music, chatting, drinks, and the cliche back-row bus drunken make-out session. We all stumbled out of the bus, whether from exhaustion, motion sickness (moi!) or intoxication and headed to our rooms. I, along 9 others, were staying in a house, while the rest paired up in cabinas. In hindsight a cabina would have been the better arragement. The house was less than home-y. But for a place to sleep after days at the beach, it was just fine. As soon as we got settled the drunken caverly rallied the troops to head to a bar we passed coming in. We were on our way until someone yelled out, “Wait guys! Will can’t find his shoe.” Shoe? A huh, not shoes, shoe. He was walking around with one green crock on. So as good friends we searched around the house for it, no luck. Outside, maybe? Nope. AHA! In the bus?! A peek in the window revealed not likely. We concluded that it was possible that when he crawled over seats to get out of the bus for an “emergency!” pit stop, he lost it outside. We were a little too tired, and some of us a little too intoxicated to notice he returned one shoe lighter. Oh well! Were on vacation, right? So he was scooped up on someone’s back who was no more sober than he was, and carried to the bar. Party on, Wayne!

At the bar we drank a little bit, danced a bunch to the Reggaeton DJ, met some Americans, chased Shoeless Joe and his companion home around keeping them safe from themselves, and finally went to our home away from home.

I was so excited to get into that bed. It had been a very long week with Spanish classes in the morning and practicum in the afternoon. I needed some well-deserved sleeping in. So Catherine and I, both very tall girls, climbed into bed. We laughed a bunch as we tucked the sheets under dangling feet and our mosquito net under everything else in an attempt to protect ourselves from a mosquito attack (which, by the by, didn’t work!). Okay, all tucked in....now we’re ready…sleepy time…zzzzzzzz…


WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!? “Catherine, did you hear that?” No response. WAHHAAHAHHHAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!! What the heck WAS that??? WAWHHHAAAHAHHAAAAAAA. Oh god. There it goes again. It sounds closer this time. Okay, Amy, pull yourself together. It’s only 3 in the morning. You can go back to sleep, get a good 6 hours...WAAAAAAHHHHHHAAAHAAAAWAAHHA!!! OH GOD! I’M GONNA DIE! IT’S COMING FOR ME!!!...

Some how managed to block out what only can be described as Death’s cat -call. I have never heard anything more terrifying in my entire life. Haha It’s funny now but at the time I really thought that that was the end. So when everyone was up I asked “Did you hear that really crazy scary noise last night!? ““Oh yeah, those are howler monkeys. They live in the trees right outside the house. They even threw poop at the house last night. Come look.” Oh good. Not Death, just poop-throwin’ monkeys. Mystery Solved. Hehe
1 Response
  1. Matt Says:

    Ha! Howler monkeys are amazingly loud. Like a wookie taking a kick to his little wookies... they'd start up and dawn and dusk when we were camping in Guatemala. I'm glad your monkey experiences have been reasonably tame so far. :D
    We miss you! So glad you had the cajones to go snorkeling! Keep the great stories coming.