thursday morning wildlife

4:30am

I'm guessing that is the locally beloved   Howler Monkey ---like an asthmatic lion, growly, hyperventilating, honking.   It does sound like it's from a much larger animal than the guys I saw in the trees above my house.   They call and respond like the roosters in the other neighborhood. Then there's another growly honk, but NOT from far away. From Very Close.  By my open window, close.   (And keeping in mind that an "open window" here is a gaping 4 ft hole in the middle of your bedroom wall. When the windows are open, you are essentially outside.) 

Was I supposed to shut the house at night in case of monkeys?
Is he going to get in?
I was so relieved that there are no bad guys who break in at night up here, I didn't think about what else might ... 

It's VERY LOUD now, it's in the room....    it's Lou, the dog.
She has apparently been sleeping in my room all night.
(I'm a little glad to see her, even though she's not supposed to
be in the main house at Denise's.) I do like dogs. Except: when they join in with a howl that is shockingly loud and an accurate imitation of the monkeys.  She does stop when I sit up in bed and tell her to but then, can't seem to help herself when they call out again.

5 am.
It's not full light yet but then, it IS raining, there has even been some lightning and limited thunder.  I'm trying the stove again (maybe fresh eyes will change everything.)   Yes. It is still a stove.   No. Still no gas. Aaaand, the propane tank looks the same as last night when it didn't respect my wishes.   Okay. Well?
oh: the tree frog is now on the kitchen ceiling. That's fine but don't pee in the lentils. Say, maybe the overnight soak in cold water has softened them, even without heat from a stove.  They do look bigger but don't seem very soft and they taste ... um.. gee, maybe not like lentils.  (If the bag says "lentajes" what else can that be, right?)
Well, I could build a fire. I'm handy and it's not like there are Safety Standards here. Oh wait: everything is a sodden mess from the rain. Well, I could go sit on the sofa and look out at the sleeping, dripping hibiscus (right where a television would be. For that matter: where a  wall  would be.) 
Nearly 7am now
steady rain falling straight down, not even in drops just a lot of streaming toward the ground.  What's the line about (is it Mercy?) "droppeth from Heaven" -?  Well, rain here droppeth. I've been watching the hummingbirds before any flowers opened and they were still sleeping. Oh yes, hummingbirds sleep. They sleep like me: in short desperate bursts, probably yearning to sleep free. But now a few of the hibiscus lower on the tree have gamely opened, downward like bells and the hummingbirds are on their way.  At the top of the tree, those blossoms are getting the full impact of the rain and look it too. Like a bunch of wet washcloths hung over the faucet.
It's been 2 hours, maybe I'll wander back in the kitchen and look at the stove again (longingly.) 
Try the knobs.   Oh, you already did? 
Try them again.   
Now, try each one. 
Try each one and stick your face right down by the burner -- hear anything?  (not over this rain!) smell anything?  No. 
Try them all at the same time...
Stir the lentils some more.   Look  for  frog. 
Give up and have a PowerBar.
Bummer, I wanted to try my new "coffee maker".  This is a wooden stand, like a napkin holder on its side. On the bottom shelf you put your cup, on the top shelf there's a circle cut out (it does resemble an outhouse but don't lose focus: this is a culturally significant local tradition.) Then you get a cotton sack, like a tennis sock, that is hanging off a wire ring in the shape of a magnifying glass. Ring fits over hole in wood. Coffee sack hangs down to your waiting mug.  Grounds in sock, boiling water poured over: Voila (or whatever the Spanish equiv.)   All I need is the HOT in hot water. 
How is there no sign of life over at the other house?  They have a toddler.  
And now there is another sound from the trees, something that is also likely candidate for "Howler Monkey" (uhh, so what was the other thing? No more open windows at night.)

Hey! An umbrella ... someone is up... but the ubrella is leaving, that's not good ...  espera!
When Sondra said that life here makes you stronger because it is HARD, I thought she meant big things, real challenges, not constant, small things like making hot water.
Well, I'd love to stay here all day in my pajamas, cooking all day in chilly rain would be lovely but not without coffee (or cooking.)  (Hmm, is this headache from caffeine-failure or from using folded clothes as a pillow?)
When I finally do hear voices over at the house, I'm shy about going. No one wants to be a chore or the idiot who can't work a stove. Walking the ten steps over there, the voice in my head is pleading "Please, Please, let it be a legitimate problem with the propane tank! Anything but obvious."

Boiled Water! Boiled lentils, sauteed onion, it's a party.
The coffee project takes a little practice since the pans are a little ramshackle, missing handles or lids (or handles AND lids.)  The glass lid for the lentils has lost it's black knob, all that is left is the screw that once held it on and a chip of  broken material. Cooking is not for the weak down here. All of the coffee "equipment" is freshly scrubbed and ready -- it feels like a high school experiment but with more purpose. (This skill you will totally need later in life.) Spoonfuls of coffee into "bolsa", hang on wooden rack, cup underneath, use 2d mug to scoop hot water (since it is the same size and will hold the right amount of water ... see what I did there? right? Stay in school kids.)
okay, well, gee, okay. First time kinks, we can work those out.
(For the record, the second cup did go better and I took photos after lunch just in case my "two story out-house with tennis sock underneath" description was unclear. But how could it be?)