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The Day After the Never-Ending Day

1/18/2012

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      I don't have any photos from today, which is probably just as well.  Last night I slept naked with a baby monkey (also naked) curled in my armpit.  I got up every two hours to give her a bottle and find a dry spot to lie on.  This morning I took a cold shower - either the hot water was broken or I couldn't figure out how to use it (Alexa had a long hot shower in her room).  I had no mousse, no hair dryer, no curling iron and no hair spray.  And then I got dressed in the same sweaty clothes I took off last night.  We left the monkeys in the hotel room because the temperature was already in the 80s, and when we climbed into the hot vehicle Alexa handed me Paul's black comb, which was lying on the dashboard. 
      "Here," she said.  "Use this."  
       We met Hanzel in front of Banco Nacional, and drove a block to the attorney's office.  (The town of Siquirres encompasses about five square blocks.)  The afternoon before, when Hanzel called to make the appointment, I asked how much it would cost and was quoted 40,000 colones ($80).  I said it was too much, in spite of the fact that I didn't know if there were any other attorneys in town, and Hanzel spoke into his cell phone again .  Then how about 20,000 colones ($40)?  I said okay and gave the money to Hanzel, not realizing we would be with him at the attorney's office.  The attorney was pleasant, accommodating, and seemed impressed that I knew the scientific genus and species (ateles geoffroyi) when he typed up the affidavit.  Alexa and I took turns using the restroom, and Hanzel paid the attorney.  My favorite part of the story?  Hanzel volunteered the fact that the attorney only charged $30 because it was a worthy cause.  (He did ask if he could keep the extra $10 for gas for his motorcycle since he had made two extra trips to town and Alexa, being Alexa, said he could have $5.)
Picture
Alexa Sancho Castro
     We drove two blocks to MINAET and sat in the hall waiting for the boss to open his door.  One of the other gentlemen, who we had spoken with briefly the day before, came up to us.
     "I need to talk to you ladies," he said before heading down the long stairway and out the door.  Alexa and I looked at each other.
     "Don't lie, but don't tell them we have the monkeys,"  I suggested.  Alexa agreed.
     But he already knew.  His niece, who cleaned rooms at the hotel, heard Lolita chirping after we left and immediately called MINAET.  
     Which is a wonderful thing.  I wouldn't want it any other way.  But I was  REALLY thankful that we had spent the previous afternoon at MINAET and were back again.  He was very nice, and eventually found phone chargers for our dying cell phones.  And the morning dragged into the afternoon.
      At the rate things were going, the paperwork really was going to take a week.  The boss said every word out loud as he typed it, and he typed at glacial speed.  At some point Alexa pulled up a chair next to him and started dictating.
     The room was hot, and in addition to not having  any hair accoutrements on our day-trip-turned-into-overnight, I didn't have deodorant and was wearing yesterday's clothes.  Plus I had nothing to do except stare at the wall clock as the hours passed, since gnawing on the edge of the wooden table didn't seem politically correct.
      At noon, which was check-out time, Alexa called the hotel and asked for a grace period.  And at 1:30 we FINALLY went back for the monkeys.  (I had made two trips to check up on them and feed Lolita in the interim.)
      "I just have a sixth grade education," Alexa later said, "and I was telling him what to write."

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    Picture
    In the jungle with the monkeys.

    Michele Gawenka 

       Jane Goodall has always been my hero, and working with primates an aspiration.  Africa wasn't in the cards the summer I turned 16, when my parents offered to send me to volunteer,  and there was only one class (in physical anthro-pology) when I wanted to study primatology in college.  
         Decades later my husband and I retired in Costa Rica, and this is our journey with spider (and howler) monkeys. 

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