Despachos de Paraíso - Day 2

Monday, March 18, 2008

Monday March 10

Paradise: Noisy as Fuck-All

Sunday we both woke up in the middle of the night and could barely hear each other laughing. The din was somewhere between the decibel level of a noisy classroom and a jet engine. I no longer wonder what it would sound like if Jim Hensen was in charge of Mardi Gras. I will attempt to lay down the tracks for you:

Hola, Ban-yan

There are two constant sounds above and below everything else. To start with, there is the steady metallic ringing of the katydids. Imagine crickets with a cheap Peavey amp, except these crickets are made out of titanium. Then there is the surf, which sounds like 9/11 coming out of a seashell. We're at least half mile from the shore, but part-way up a large hill, so the ocean sound carries to us incredibly well. Call me sheltered, but all the oceans I've ever heard (17) have made gentle shushy sounds at night. The ocean here sounds like a 26-lane highway (not the reedy tenor of those elevated highways, either), punctuated by controlled demolitions under a gigantic woolen pancake.

A jutty-thing on the way to Punta Uva

Then there are about 600 kinds of intermittent shrieks, chirps, cackles, hoots, barks, beeps, howls, caws, rustles, thumps, crashes, and squawks from the various jungle creatures, which include but are not limited to dogs, geckos, frogs, all manner of insects

"Be-ware the White-Face Monkey!"

and birds, kinkajous, not to mention our "neighbors" — a camp of Nicaraguans who for some reason seem to extremely happy to no longer be in Nicaragua.

That's RIGHT, motherfuckers! Jesus was pure WHITE! And don't you forget it!