Art Peekel

If you have read any of my previous postings on this blog you may well have noticed some apparent errors. I'm referring to those of a "typographical" nature. You may have wondered why they're there--why they weren't removed. I think you deserve to know so I'm going to tell you.

Among my former students and colleagues there are those who most certainly recall my telling them about the Navajo Indian blanket. Usually my explanation came shortly after I handed out something that I had typed out. Here's a typical example of how it went. First there was an announcement by one of my students that went something like this.

"Mr. Peekel, I found a mistake! I found a mistake on the test you just gave out. It's on page three...." the student blurted out with a mixture of satisfaction and stupefaction.

Fighting back my temptation to comment on the inappropriateness of speaking before raising a hand and being called on I smiled and simply said "That's no mistake!"

"But, Mr. Peekel, it's right here. It says ...." she continued with the hint of indignation that exists in some honors students on occasion.

"I said it's no mistake. I know it's there. I put it there intentionally. On purpose!" I calmly contended.

"What? You did what? On purpose?"

Another student chimed in with "An intentional mistake? That's far out! Hey, I don't get it."

"Well, maybe you'll understand if I tell you about the Navajo Indian Balnket" I announced with a particular pleasure.

Then I told them about the time I was in Arizona visiting a friend. We went to a presentation about Native American arts and crafts. The presenter explained that the Navajo Indian blankets with their intricate goemetric designs are woven intentionally with a mistake--a flaw that is so small that it's seldom detected. The weavers believe that it would be a "mistake" to attempt to create a "perfect" design because only the Great Spirit can do such a thing. Also, the flaw in the blanket lets the Evil Spiits escape.

"So, class, that's why I don't create perfect handouts. You wouldn't want any evil spirits trapped in there, would you?"

My account is usually greeted with a few congenial nods and winks mixed with many more moans and groans. And there's always the student who is quick to come to the inevitable conclusion.

"Mr. Peekel, does that mean when we make a mistake on something we hand in ...?"

I cut the student off at the pass and said with a broad grin "Stranger, not as long as this sheriff is in town!"

Now back to my postings on this blog. You deserve a further explanation. I'll be short and to the point. My dial-up connection in my "tree house" does not enable me to access Blogspot to create my postings.

So I have to type them out an my laptop and carry my laptop into town. Because I can't transfer them onto the computer there I have to read off my laptop and type them into the computer at the Internet Cafe. Furthermore I haven't figured out how to use spell check on Blogspot.

I try to edit as I go and proof read afterwards, but I'm usually in a rush to catch the bus or beat the rain home on my bike or get off the computer because someone has been waiting forever or because I don't have enough money with me to pay for any more time on the computer or for some other reason/excuse you may consider suspect. But, hey, that's my story and I'm sticking with it.

If you've read this far you deserve to know that I'll be incommunicado for the next 2 weeks. Sam, the son of long-time friend David from my years in Appleton, WI back in the mid 60's, is coming to visit me. The two of us will be heading off to Panama later this week. Costa Rican law requires me to leave the country for a least 3 days before the 3-month anniversary of my arrival here.

We'll take a bus from Puerto Viejo to the border town of Sixaola and walk across a bridge into Panama. From there it'll be a taxi, bus and boat ride to an island just off the northeast coast of Panama. You'll find details of our adventure in a future posting.

Sam and I will also travel together to the Bribri community in Yorkin. It will be my third visit there. I have arranged for Sam to stay for several weeks as a volunteer teaching English as a second language and helping to construct additional accommodations for tourists.

I am very envious. Only my obligation to "house sit" is keeping me from joining Sam for an extended stay there. There's something very special about the people I've met there and the place where they live. The friendships we've fostered mean a lot to me.

If it weren't for my plane ticket back to the States on March 21st I'd go to Yorkin when my landlady returns from her vacation. Perhaps my travels will take me back there next year. The idea of returning as a volunteer English teacher has crossed my mind, you can be sure of that. We'll see....

The Gandoca-Manzanillo Wildlife Refuge is located along the Caribbean Coast of Costa Rica. It extends from the town of Manzanillo to the Panamanian border and covers 5013 hectares of land plus 4436 hectares of sea. (A hectare equals 2.471 acres.)

While my former RMHS colleagues Lesa M. and Scott S. were visiting me in mid December, the three of us booked a tour to the refuge. We got up early one morning and drove in their rented car less than 10 minutes down to Manzanillo. It's the last town accessible by road along the coast.

We arrived at 8:00 am as scheduled and were outfitted as recommended: high rubber boots, long pants, hats, binoculars, cameras, water bottles, granola bars and plenty of bug repellent! We were well prepared. But little did we know....

A man approached us as we emerged from our car. There was no greeting or introduction. It was all business.

"If you park there you can give me $500" were the first words out of his mouth.

I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly. Neither were Lesa and Scott. We looked at one another for some assurance.

"You can give me $500" he repeated in what appeared to be all sincerity.

"What?" Lesa cautiously questioned.

He responded "You part there under that tree and a coconut is likely to fall on your car. It will cost you at least $500!" Then he smiled.

We all smiled. That was Tino our guide. Clearly he had a sense of humor. And we were to enjoy it and him throughout our tour.

Another couple joined us. They were also from the States and teachers coincidentally enough. The three of us looked at one another after noticing that the two of them were wearing shorts and tennis shoes. Were they clueless?

Turned out they were delightful, inquistive and adventurous. I really admired his daring. But more about that later.

Tino quickly began by identifying the trees and bushes along the trail that lead us out of town. Soon we were hiking away from the sea and up into the secondary forest. Before long we came to the primary forest.

The way was not clearly marked. Frequently there were forks in the trail. At times it was difficult to see if we were actually following any kind of path. I discarded all notions of acting as a guide for other friends of mine who might want to hike there.

Plus the professional had so much knowledge to impart. We were shown how the inner portion of the banana tree could be used as a splint. Scott, RMHS trainer par excellence, found that especially interesting. Lesa and I were fascinated to see how the inner fibers of the banana stem between the fruit and the flower could be used for tea bags.

We were introduced to several kinds of birds. More were heard than seen, however. Some were difficult for me to locate even when Tino and my companions tried to point them out to me. The binoculars were of no help. Very frustrating!

We saw monkeys and sloths too. I was especially excited at the sight of my first two-toed (technically two-fingered) sloth even though it was only a big ball of reddish brown hair high in a tree. This species sleeps nearly all day long. So I shouldn't have been disappointed, right?

At the deepest point of our excursion into the refuge was a small pond. It was there we were told to expect to see Caimans. Sure enough one was sunning itself on a log. Again I was the last to see it and only after numerous failed attempts by all the other members of our party to help me. More frustration!

Caimans look to me much like crocodiles, only smaller on average I'm told. This one was maybe four feet long. Didn't appear all that threatening to me. Not from our vantage point anyway.

Tino stopped occasionally to look down into the large leaves of plants that stood 4-6 feet high along the sides of the trail. These were newly formed leaves shaped like a giant cone about 3 feet long and 6 inches or so wide at the top. Rays of sunlight hit some of them in such a way as to make them bright green and translucent.

It wasn't clear what Tino was expecting to find. After several unsuccessful attempts he asked if one of the guys would help. Scott and I hesitated long enough to give the other fellow an opportunity to step forward. He did.

He grabbed a particularly large leave and bent it toward him. The others of us gasped when we saw the dark image of a creature moving near the base of the cone. I assumed it was a huge spider.

To the amazement of the gringos in the group, especially our new amigo, out flew a bat. And almost immediately a second one followed. We could see there were more shadows still in the cone. And sure enough out flapped a third and fourth in quick succession. Before he let go of the leaf the fifth and final one escaped.

The whole episode lasted only a few seconds. The images will stay with me for a long time. Only my experiences with bats in the Maldives were more memorable. (That's a story for another time.)

There were plenty of insects on this tour. The Leafcutter Ant is among the most fascinating. They appeared crawling single file on the ground and on tree trunks carring small pieces of green leaves. (Did you know that they are actually "farmers" and grow their own food, a type of fungus, underground?)

The trail we were on passed right through a very large colony of these ants. It was nearly the size of a tennis court. There were countless little volcano like entrances. I was reminded of the 1998 animated film A Bug's Life.

Tino placed himself in the middle and asked us to gather round him. He then stomped his feet on the ground several times. Within a few seconds ants with very large heads came storming out of the nearby holes. These "soldiers" were ready to ward off the threatened attack.

Spiders were eveywhere. Many were big with interesting markings and intricate webs. Tino would point them out and tell us to stay clear. So it was shocking, to say the least, to see him grab one right off its web!

He proudly announced "This is a Golden Orb Spider! It's harmless!"

"Really? Really? Really? was my repeated response while I watched in amazement as it crept up his arm, across his shoulder, onto his neck and then his head.

He explained to us that the silk strands were used as cross hairs in gun sights. We each were given a piece of the web. (Did you know that a human hair is 30 times greater in diameter than the strand of a spider web?) I couldn't take my eyes off that spider.

Then Tino looked directly at me and said "Would anyone like to hold the spider?"

"Art!" Lesa or Scott or both of them were quick to suggest. What an perfect example of that old saying about the best defense is a good offense.

At first the suggestion simply didn't compute. Then I looked at them in disbelief. "Who needs enemies with friends like this?" I thought. There was no way...!

"I will" said the other fellow and he stuck out his hand. No sign of fear whatsoever. He seemed to relish the opportunity.

After experiencing the "thrill" he approached me with his pet spider. His motives were clear. So his offer came as no surprise.

"Here, Art, it's your turn!"

I mumbled something. Clearly it was incoherent. Even I wasn't sure what words came out. In any case nobody seemed to care what I said. All eyes were on me.

There was a chorus of "Go ahead, Art!"

Even the tour guide chimed in. Perhaps he considered it encouragement. I considered it betrayal.

I was about to say "How could you turn on me, Tino?" when all of a sudden it was as if I was transfixed. My muscles were no longer receiving messages from my cerebral cortex. I was witness to the unthinkable.

"Okay!" I stammered. There were smiles on all the faces. (Could the spider have been smiling too?)

"There's nothing to fear"Tino said to me and perhpas the spider as well.

"Nothing but fear itself" I was tempted to say.

The spider easily made the transfer and eagerly began to move up my arm. What on earth was I doing? What was it doing? My senses were on overload.

Does arachnophobia mean anything to you? The photograph taken by Lesa of me and the Golden Orb Spider could well be the classic illustration. You'll agree when you see it.

That's my most vivid and lasting memory of the Gandoca-Manzanillo Wildlife Refuge tour. The bats come in second. And the Eyelash Palm Pitvipers are in a category all by themselves. (See previous posting.)

The rain fell gently as we neared the end of our hike. What would a tour of the rain forest be without it? Tino joked that he was prepared to refund our money if it hadn't rained.

The last few kilometers were along the coast, much of it on cliffs overlooking the Caribbean. There were impressive coral outcroppings just off shore. The panoramic views were particularly picturesque.

Words cannot explain how grateful I am to Lesa and Scott for coming all the way down to Costa Rica to spend a week with me exploring the wonders of wildlife on the Talamanca Coast. In another posting I'll write about the tour the three of us took through the Moin-Tortuguero inland waterway. It too was an awesome adventure!

In a previous posting I wrote about scorpions. Snakes are another story. And to state that poisonous ones merit special attention is certainly an understatement.

I can honestly say that snakes, in general, don't frighten me. Don't get me wrong; I'm not like some of my former students who seemed to enjoy hnadling them. Steve C., while a student at Exeter Academy, sometimes carried his pet Boa Constrictor around with him in a pillow case. Can you imagine?

Back when I was in grade school there was this kid who carried a garter snake around in a front pocket of his jeans. He liked to scaare the girls with it. Makes you wonder what course his life took.

Until recently I had never seen a poisonous snake except in a zoo. I can remember as a young boy watching Marlin Perkins on TV. At the time he was employed by the Lincoln Park Zoo in Chicago. I was very impressed by his careful handling of reptiles on his show Zoo Parade. The fact that he was betten by a poisonous snake and almost died left a lasting impression on me.

There is a poster on the inside of the door to the porch at my jungle "tree house" with large bold lettering at the top which reads "SERPIENTES VENENOSAS." On it are photographs and descriptions of 17 poisonous snakes found in various parts of Costa Rica. Four are categorized as coral snakes and one as a water snake. I haven't seen any of them, though my neighbors told me that a friend of theirs almost stepped on a coral snake when walking up the path to their house.

Of the 12 others 8 are listed as Pitvipers, and of the 8 there are 3 Palm Pitvipers: the Black-speckled, Side-striped and "my favorite" the Eyelash. You can look them up on the Internet as I did. Frightening to read just how poisonous they are. Worse to know you are living among them.

My story involves Lesa M. and Scott S., both former colleagues of mine at RMHS, who spent a week with me here in mid December. One of the highlights of our time together was a hike through the Gandoca-Manzanillo Wildlife Refuge which is just down the road from where I'm staying. You can read a detailed account of that wonder filled experience in another posting.

I must tell you, however, about our guide Tino, who was born and raised in this area of Costa Rica. My neighbor told me "he's the best!" And that he was!

There was no doubt that he knew a lot about the flora and fauna in the rain forest. He amazed us with his ability to spot all sorts of things even at a great distance. As teachers we especially appreciated his enthusiasm in sharing his knowledge. And he had his own special way of telling us what he wanted us to keep in mind.

"Don't grab onto anything as you walk along" Tino instructed. "Even if you are falling don't reach out to catch yourself!" His voice sounded very serious.

I wondered why and thought of how natural, how instinctive it would be to try to grab something, anything. What was the danger? His explanation followed.

"First you might well end up with a bloody hand from the sharp thorns on the branch or tree trunk. There's also the possibility of fire ants and you don't want to mess with them. But most important you cold be bitten by a snake hiding on the other side!" he warned. "A poisonous snake!" he added for emphasis.

Well, needless to say that got my attention. I found myself repeating under my breath "Don't grab anything! Don't grab anything! Not even if I'm falling down! Not even if I'm falling down! Not even...!"

Our hike took us into a primary forest. There we saw trees that towered above the canopy. The six of us joining hands could not have reached around any one of the trunks. They reminded me of the giant redwoods I had seen for the first time last year just north of San Francisco in the Muir Woods.

Tino was the first to see the snake. He invited us to come take a look. On the trunk of one of those trees I saw my first Eyelash Palm Pitviper.

"Don't get too close!" he said as if he needed to. "It's nocturnal and reacts to the body heat of its potential victim. But you really don't have to worry if you keep your distance. It can strike only about half its length" he said in an attempt to reassure us.

None of us seemed all that comforted even after judging it to be about two feet long. Sleeping or not it made me nervous. Fearful wouuld be more accurate!

I did manage to take several photographs. Yes! I used my telephoto option! We saw a couple more later that morning. Someday you'll be able to see them on my "blog."

My story doesn't end there unfortunately. Part Two takes place back at my jungle "tree house" a couple days later. Credit for the discovery goes to Scott.

"Art, come here! I want to show you something!" is more or less what he said. He and Lesa had been taking photographs and shooting a video of my place and the surroundings. I didn't know what to expect.

I don't recall what I said when I say it there curled up in the branches of a small bush along side the foundation of the house. If memory serves me right my first thought was one of disbelief. It really didn't look real. But it certainly did look exactly like the Eyelash Palm Pitvipers Tino had shown us on our hike through the Gandoca-Manzanillo Wildlife Refuge.

I do remember thinking "What is that snake doing here?" Silly of me of course because we were only a few kilometers away from the refuge. And we were in the rain forest after all.

"What are you going to do, Art? was Lesa's question.

"I don't know! Do you think I should kill it?" was all I could think to say. But trying to kill a poisonous snake seemed beyond me. My heart was racing!

Scott or maybe it was Lesa said something like "Don't you have a machete?"

I still couldn't see myself trying to kill that snake with anything, even on the end of a 10-foot pole. Well, maybe a bazooka!

Then the thought occurred to me to call my neighbor Noble. So that's what I did. He wasn't there but his wife Alaine was.

"I wouldn't kill it if I were you, Art. Noble wouldn't. Just let it be" was her advice.

Lesa and Scott were keeping their eyes on the snake. I went back to them to explain. The snake was making a move. No doubt now that it was real!

"I'm going to let it go"I heard myself tell them.

"You're going to do what? either one of them said out loud or I told myself. In any case that's the message I got. My heart was racing more than ever.

A quick bit of calculus in my head and I concluded there was a distinct possibility the snake was going to take up residence (if it hadn't already) under the house in which I resided. That was more than a bit disturbing. And that's the feeling I was left with as I saw its tail disappear into the darkness behind one of the support posts.

Here I am almost a month later and there's been no sign of my "pet"Eyelash Palm Pitviper since then. You'd better believe I don't walk around the outside of the house as carefree as before this episode. And yet Noble and Alain walk between our two houses barefoot even at night. Ah, there are some things in this world that were never meant to be understood.

There are reasons I haven't added a posting in the last four weeks. For one I've been busy hosting friends. That has meant lots of fun, including several excursions around CR.

I went with Lesa M. and Scott S., both former colleagues of mine at RMHS, on a tour to Gandoca-Manzanillo National Wildlife Refuge, Tortuguero National Park and the Irazu Volcano.

Matthew D., former student teacher of mine, and I went on the overnight Yorkin Estibrawpa Indigenous Tour and hiked to "Buena Vista."

I went back to the Yorkin Community with Steve P., former student of mine at RMHS, and we hiked across the border into Panama to see "La Catarata."

Rick H., a college fraternity brother, and his wife shared several carefree days with me frolicking along the Caribbean shore and fraternizing with my new found Costa Rican friends.

There's also the matter of my Internet hookup. Following my friends' departure I tried to access the Internet from my jungle "tree house" but to no avail. The dial-up connection has been down for several days now. UGH!

The weather while my friends were here was ideal. Since they left it has been raining almost constantly. Noah would definitely have built an ark by now. I keep telling myself that it is the "rain forest" after all! But I don't care to ride my bike into town in this weather.

So I have been waiting for my Internet connection to come back up and for the rain to stop. Your guess is as good as mine as to which will happen first. Hey, as my friends have heard me often say down here, "It's just another day in Paradise!"

If the rain lets up at all this afternoon I'll take the bus into town. That will mean waiting by the side of the road for awhile, no doubt, because the bus schedule is rather unpredictable. The return bus is scheduled to leave town about four hours later.

With any luck I'll post this later today. Plus I have one to share with you about scorions. You'll have to wait for the one about snakes. Others about the Yorkin Estibrawpa Indigenous Tour and excursions to Gandoca-Manzanillo National Wildlife Refuge and Tortuguero National Park will follow. Thanks for checking in!

Scorpions are menacing looking cretures if you ask me. Even the tiny ones floating in bottles of tequila look deadly. People who wear them encased in amber or globs of plastic on chains around their necks must think they look threatening, right?

No one ever mentioned the possibility of encountering scorpins when I visited here last April. And none ever crossed my path. So I was not "on the lookout" when I arrived here in early November.

It wasn't until mid December that the first scorpion made its dramatic appearance. Lesa M. and Scott S. had spent a week visiting with me and were packed for the trip back to San Jose. They stoped briefly under my "tree house" and put their baggage down on the cement pad. Just a few moments later out from under the pile crawled a rather large insect.

"Scorpion!" yelled Scott, jumping back several steps.

Lesa and I quickly scattered, then looked to where Scott was pointing. Sure enough it was a scorpion. There was no mistaking that cute little turned up tail. It was heading for the bathroom.

"Kill it!" I nervously shouted. The thought of it residing in my bathroom struck fear in me. "Hurry, Scott, step on it!"

"You step on it!"was his instant reply.

"You've got shoes on! I'm wearing sandals!" I argued.

"Just go and crush it with your shoe, Scott!" Lesa urged from a safe distance.

There was more coaxing. Then Scott did the dastardly deed. The first stomp was sufficient. The crushed remains lay just inches from the opening under the dorr to the bathroom.

"Scott the Scorpion Slayer!" I announced in gratitude.

I wish I could tell you that was the end of the scorpions instead of just the beginning. To date there have been a total of half a dozen. Regrettably only five were exterminated.

Steve P., a friend and former RMHS student, discovered a rather large one crawling in the kitchen sink. Together we attacked it. I wounded it with an empty wine bottle and he went on to drown it.

Another appeared under the sink a few days later. It surprised me when I went to get a pan that was stored there. A quick maneuver with a wooden spoon eliminated it.

The mother of all scorpions was hiding behind the monthly calendar on the wall by the dry box that contains my computer. When I went to rip off December it greeted me. Fortunately a can of "Baygon" was handy. I had already used it to kill cucarachas and termites. It took several direct blasts to bring this one down.

The lifeless body of the fifth one was found on the floor by the door to the outside porch. The cause of death remains a mystery. Could I possibly have stepped on it without knowing?

The last one got away. It was near my bed when I first spotted it. Before I could react it scurried behind some boxes stacked in the corner. I decided not to go looking for it by moving the boxes around. No sense asking for trouble.

Locals have told me there's no reason to be "deathly" afraid. They assure me the sting is not fatal. These scorpions are not like the ones found in Mexico.

"It's like getting stung by a wasp or hornet" one neighbor told me. "The first time a scorpion stun me I took some Benadryl and went to bed like the doctor said. I was fine twelve hours later. The next time wasn't nearly as bad."

Another neighbor told me of getting stung when putting on his pants. "You've got to be careful at all times! Make sure you check your shoes before putting them on too" he advised.

His wife said she got stung when she went to dry her hands on a towel. "Scorpions like to hid in the folds of fabric" she warned. "Shake them out careflly before using them."

I now inform all my friends who come to stay with me about the dangers of scorpions. I explain that the sting is not fatal, but painful like that of a wasp or hornet. A bottle of Benadryl is on hand should the need arise.

"Welcome to my jungle tree house!" I say. "Be prepared to enjoy the wonders of Nature. And be on the lookout for scorpions twenty-four, seven!"