Bridges and Caves
Part One: Hanging Bridges
As we step on the path, Auntie leads the way, and plants embroider the path. Around 10 minutes pass and a huge and tall steel structure is planted in the ground. I step on the bridge, slowly making my way across. Birds chirp, leaves rustle and sway. Mostly I look down, creak, creak creak, and I’m off. The hike continues. I see two orange and black butterflies delicately flutter by. I point them out and then I hurry along the path to catch up. The scent of damp and muggy air slithers down my nostrils. Then me and Clara start to run in the direction of the next bridge. I hear Clara exclaim, “They’re here,” and we hastily run on the bridge. The sunlight shines on my forehead and the roughly 150 high bridge sways ever so slightly. I stop and take a picture to remember what it feels like not having my feet on the ground. Now the ground feels steady and I know I am off. My flowy pants drag on the ground, then they pick up the wind and lift off. Bonnie says, “Come look,” excitedly, and points out a green, skinny, oddly slithering snake on a wirey rope that protects you from tumbling down the hill. I stay still, debating whether to touch it or not. It slithers on a leaf and I quickly prick its tail and giggle. The next bridge is maybe the tallest yet. Slowly I walk, admiring the mostly green rainforest. I stand. It’s not like a house, closed and busy with artificial light and made to block out nature. No, the jungle is a whole new world.
Part Two: The Caves
A man leads us down a stone path, speaking in Spanish to my mom. I appreciate my surroundings. “Whoa,” Bonnie says, as water drips from the cave’s ceiling.
“Good thing we are wearing boots,” I mutter under my breath.
The man says something in Spanish to my mom and she translates: “Turn on your lights.” We do and they flicker on only to reveal bats, snoozing on the ceiling. The water trickles from an unknown source. We walk for a bit, watching a few uninviting bats flutter around.
The man talks rapidly in Spanish and my mom says, “This part is optional,” and gestures to a tiny hole.
Bonnie says, “We are supposed to climb in there?”
My mom says, “He says it gets bigger.” We argue about whether to go in or not, so finally we settle on yes. The man crab walks into the hole, then my mom, followed by me. The hole claustrophobic hole is tight, and hard to squeeze into. The sandy water meets my skin and I am out or in-- because the tiny room has a hole on the right of the ceiling. Bonnie’s head pops out and I greet her. Bonnie’s face is panicked.
“See, it gets bigger,” I say to prove something “Come on.” Clara’s head pops out, followed by her limbs. “Hi,” I say.
“That was claustrophobic,” Clara says, grinning. “Ow, not yet,” Clara says, sounding annoyed. Then she fully climbs out and says, “Now you can.” Uncle Anthony’s head jolts out, followed by the rest of him and he tells the guys to help us get up. He lifts Bonie up and she climbs down to a room I cannot see. Next me, while climbing I see a tiny, itty bitty spider that would scare my mom a lot. I climb the rough and tan rock and find myself in a room that is no smaller than a bedroom with an exit on the left, and the whole room is made entirely of rock. My mom hops in and Bonnie claps for her arrival. Next Clara, then Uncle Anthony, and then Auntie Sarah. The tour guide is with us so he leads us through the opening. Around 30 minutes later, just after climbing through another wet, tight claustrophobic tunnel with sandy water, the tour guide randomly goes to a spot and picks up a huge scorpion spider. He asks if anyone wants to hold it, and Uncle Anthony volunteers. After I see him do it, I say, “I’ll do it.” The spider climbs on my wrist. It doesn’t really move unless you count his, her or their antennas, which move around, sensing its surroundings. I feel tiny pricks, feeling not so nervous, as it barely moves around my hand. When we reach the foot of the cave and I can see the jungle and light, I feel happy I did the caves because I got to hold a spider and climb through claustrophobic tunnels.
The End!
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