I woke up to the flute-like sound of an ocarina. Through squinted eyes I could make out my new roommate, Alfonso, propped up on his bed, shirtless, serenading the world with the whimsical melodies of the Shire.
“Goodmorning, Jonny!” Alfonso called across the room. “It’s a beautiful day. Wake up! Joder, tío it’s time for breakfast, we’re going to be late!” he said. It would prove to be a pattern for us, staying up late hiking through the cloud forest looking for nocturnal olingos and margays, only to miss alarms the next morning.
“Oi, and look what I found in my bed this morning.” He said this with a sing-songy jollyness that belied the terror I felt as he held up a small tub with a jet-black scorpion inside.
Hailing from León, this bearded Spaniard had an undying optimism and an unquenchable thirst for adventure, and to this day I’ve never met someone like him. We became fast friends and spent our free time together photographing hummingbirds, hiking the campus grounds, playing guitar (and the ocarina, of course), and going for jogs around the neighborhood.
With around one hundred houses, the town of San Luis, Costa Rica, had little in the way of a youthful night-life scene. The nearest club, Bar Amigos, was an hour-and-a-half walk up a steep mountain road, which in truth wasn’t so bad; but the hour-and-a-half walk back down, at night, after a few too many pints of Imperial was just plain stupid (though, we did do it once, and actually saw a sloth on our way down, so I guess it was worth it).
Instead of making the trek up the mountain, Alfonso and I, along with our crew of fellow naturalists, researchers, and organic farmers, decided to bring the night life to us. And thus, the Casita Crawl was born. It was to be a tour de force of our gang of nature nerds, easily one of our greatest collective accomplishments. Each casita, or little house, was home to a different intern (or pair of interns, like Alfonso and I), and each casita was tasked with hosting the party for a short period of time before the gang would move on to the next casita.
Sticking to Alfonso’s Spanish roots we decided to make a Sangria for our time to host. Alfonso and I assembled a collection of fruits, soaked them in a pitcher of the finest boxed wine our colones could buy from the corner store, and a passable, vaguely fruity beverage was born. That evening as the party passed from house to house laughter grew and bonds of friendship formed stronger. It was a comically low budget affair, but the lack of things any of us could buy was simply an invitation to be creative with what was at our disposal.
The final stop on our tour led us to Sam’s casita, nestled the furthest back into the forest. With our headlamps on, we scanned the footpath for critters, many of us arm in arm, drinking deep the realization that this moment, this time we shared in Costa Rica, was a rare gift. As we stepped into Sam’s place, monstera plants hung from the walls, epiphytes dotted the window frames, and vines dangled across the room; he had brought the cloud forest inside, and it felt like magic. Nearing the end of his six month stint Sam was preparing to leave, so that night, as the culmination to our Casita Crawl, Sam raffled off all the belongings he did not want to take with him. Among the prizes were a favorite shirt, books, a pair of flip flops, cloud forest art, and a pair of sweatpants. After Sam left, new naturalists arrived, new friendships were formed and the cycle of rotating six month interns at our Costa Rica field station continued on.
When I think back to my time there, it feels like a blip, as short as six months could have been. But also, when memories resurface of friendships, of creative nights of mischievous fun, there’s an inkling of eternity in them, as if they’re still happening, currently happening, existing on within me. Those were the nights when time disappeared and the present moment lingered like the taste of Sangria even after having swallowed.
Jon Gorter (‘17) graduated from Calvin with degrees in English and environmental studies and holds an MS in natural resources from the University of Michigan. He enjoys fly fishing, mushroom foraging, and waterfall scrambling near his home in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina.
