OK, so we’ve been in Costa Rica, at the Rescue Center, for nine days now. And this is where it all began 18 months ago. This is where the seed was planted to give up our careers and spend the next 6 years or so, volunteering around the world.
It’s a bit like watching Back to the Future again after 40 years. You remember it being brilliant, but is it actually as good as you remember? Have we made the right decision? Do we regret giving up our old lives?
Well… not so far.
It’s no secret that I was considerably more enthusiastic than Noms about making the Rescue Center here our “home away from home”. Noms was quite happy to come back for three months, but wanted to see whether it was actually as good as she remembered before committing to anything longer.
Well, actions speak louder than words.
This morning she booked flights back here for another three months in March. So I reckon she’s chuffed with it.
Our role this time is also rather different. We’re not volunteers anymore — we’re co-ordinators. Which basically means more responsibility, more hours and only one day off a week. No pressure then.
One of the biggest challenges is remembering which animal can eat which fruit, vegetable or meat. Then there are the supplements, egg days, seed days, vitamin days and goodness knows what else. It’s a lot to take in, and frankly, my brain was hurting after the first week.
But we’re getting there.
Every animal here — from the sloths and birds to the monkeys and the coyote — has its own personality. And sometimes it’s very easy to forget that, despite looking incredibly cute, they are wild animals and need to be treated as such.
Human contact is kept to a minimum, and for good reason. It can be dangerous for both us and them. The aim is to keep the animals as wild as possible, particularly those that might eventually have a chance of being released back into the wilderness.
So far, Noms has been concentrating on the sloths while I’ve been co-ordinating the wider animal team. Tomorrow, though, we swap. Noms is moving into the Rescue Hospital to work with the vets, while I’m moving across to the sloth team.
More animals, more things to learn, more chances for me to accidentally feed something the wrong vegetable.
So… regrets?
Not one.
It’s hard work. It’s dirty work. It’s occasionally risky work.
But blimey, it keeps you fit. We’re up every morning at 5:30am — sometimes even earlier — and some days we don’t finish until around 6pm. We have lots of breaks, as we have to fit in with the feeding rythms of the animals but still, its knackering!
Six days a week.
By about 8pm, I’m ready for a kip. In fact, I’ve quite literally turned into Rip Van Winkle. If someone says, “Fancy a beer?” at 8:15pm, I answer with a snore.
Our accommodation is basically a tin roofed hut open to the elements, with mesh walls rather than proper windows. And honestly, it’s fantastic. Every night I’m lulled into my slumber by the sounds of birds, insects, wild pigs and the occasional coyote howling somewhere in the darkness.
I’ve never slept so well.
Although I suspect the 12-hour days might have something to do with that.
Am I feeling my age?
Well… a little bit.
I’m by far the oldest person here. Most of the volunteers at the moment are between 18 and 22, which is a little bit like having teenage children again, but they are not yours!
On the other hand, being around people that young, does make you feel a bit younger yourself. So far, Noms and I have hosted one of our quizzes in the evening. I was particularly pleased with the music round, mainly because I didn’t know the answers to a single question. Fortunately, I was presenting it rather than taking part.
Tonight I’m hosting a movie night, and we even have a popcorn machine. It is currently working harder than I am, churning out the snacks for later.
…Priorities.
Then there’s the hazards…
Of course, the experience isn’t entirely without its risks.
Two days ago, I was bitten by a bullet ant while feeding the peccaries (basically a sort of Costa Rican wild boar).
The bullet ant gets its name from the description of its sting being comparable to being shot.
I can confirm that its name is very very bloody accurate. The pain was shockingly horrible. Imagine a thousand bee stings concentrated into one tiny area. After two days I can still feel it, although thankfully the pain had mostly subsided.
And the bullet ants aren’t the only things to watch out for.
There are scorpions.
There are mosquitoes.
And then there are the Fer-de-Lance snakes.
You really do have to be careful where you put your feet around here.
Just the other day, we were releasing a non-venomous snake that had somehow found its way into the baby animal hospital. While we were doing this, a young Fer-de-Lance suddenly reared up less than a metre away from us and lunged at the vet I was standing with.
Which was nice.
These snakes are the most dangerous venomous snakes in Costa Rica and are sometimes nicknamed the “Costa Rican Landmine” — which feels like a fairly accurate description, accounting for 99% of all venomous snake bites in the Amazon basin. Luckily, this one was young and nowhere near the 6ft size an adult can reach.
Still…Gulp.
So, apart from…
The snakes.
The ants.
The scorpions.
The hard work.
The long hours.
The mosquitoes.
The heat.
The dirt.
And the occasional feeling that something in the trees is watching you…
Are we enjoying it?
Absolutely bloody loving it.
And, as we might say back home in Yorkshire:
