My semi last dinner in Santa Cruz, about 2 weeks ago, I was with Dom, Miguel (Doms friend from home who was here traveling for 2 weeks) and Liza, the girl from Ireland who came on the road trip with us. We were all talking on the way to dinner and somehow the topic of yellow fever came up. I think I might have brought it up because I was curious how many of them had gotten their yellow fever vaccination. When I realized I was the only one who hadn´t recieved my yellow fever vaccination I started to become extremely paranoid, became sick to my stomach, and felt as if I was going to throw up…I was sure I had come down with the symptoms of yellow fever and that this was only the beggining. Liza assured me, because she had seen me take my molaria medicine before we left the hostel, that I was only feeling ill because I had taken the medication on an empty stomach. I accepted this explanation for my what-I-thought was yellow fever symptoms, and continued on with dinner, which miraculously cured me of everything. I still delayed my departure to Villa Tunari for one day so that I could get my vaccination the folowing morning.

My first day at the refuge, after receiving my tour, Bosh showed up on the back of a motorcycle. Bosh is the English guy that we traveled with from Calama, Chile to La Paz, Bolivia. Bosh is working with Baloo the bear and is staying here for a month.

Its been about 2 weeks since my last post and this time its not because I have been moving too quickly…its actually quite the opposite. I have been waking up every morning for the past 2 weeks at 7am, eating breakfast before, the majority of the days, bringing buckets of bannanas up for the monkeys in the ¨monkey park¨. Upon arriving with the buckets of bannanas the following scene resembles something like the scene in Ace Ventura after he tells his landlord there are no animals living in the apartment. Monkeys come from all directions and jump on the buckets we are carrying, some taking more than their share and running off, and others grabbing a bannana and climbing up on my shoulder to peel and eat their breakfast.

The type of monkey that I am working with is a Capuchino monkey (Capuchin in Spanish). It is said that Capuchino monkeys have the intelligence of a 4 to 6 year old child. Just like a child they have short attention spans, they play with their food, show jelousy for attention, and some of them will whine for attention.

They will also do things such as holding the bottom of the broom as you sweep, pushing and pulling it, as if they were helping you clean. One of my first days here one of the monkeys urinated on one the benches in the tourist monkey park, where I have been working, so a girl I work with took a leaf off a tree and started to clean it up, but before she was able to come back with another leaf, the monkey had already retrieved her own leaf and was cleaning the bench herself….clever little things. Sometimes when they are eating, if you make a smacking sound to mimick them, they will offer you some of their food. More often than not, pretending to take a bite will successfully trick them, but sometimes they drop the food in order to find something else that may suit your pallete.

I had to start keeping my keys on a shoelace because they were almost about to break through the necklace i was wearing, since the monkeys are unable to bite through the shoelace they would often get frustrated and start banging on the keys. I started mimicking them when they were trying to bite through and, I guess, after seeing that my teeth were bigger than theirs, they would hold the lace taut with both hands and hold it up to my mouth to see if I might have a go at it.
I have also been doing my best to get the video footage I need to successfully make a documentary about the refuge. In doing so I have had the opportunity to spend some time with Baloo, the bear, as well as Sonco, the jungle puma . Baloo is an Andean Spectacle Bear who was captured from a dealer in La Paz who was planning to sell him right before the people from the refuge brought the police in to stop the deal. He can be about 1.5 meters high when he stands but he is only a year and a half old. Basically he looks like a big teddy bear, big teddy bear. One day, the volunteer that worked with Bosh didn´t come in, so I volunteered to walk the bear for a day. This is not when I captured the video and pictures because when working with a bear, this is pretty much common sense, you have to have your guard up at all time. One person would walk in front of Baloo while the person behind him held the rope. We would speak various word commands in spanish, such as ¨vamos chico, no mas chico, bueno Baloo¨, but im not sure if they had any effect on what he did. If the bear changed directions at any time on the trail the person who was behind the bear, now in front, would toss the rope to the other volunteer. A tactic that will not work once the bear gets any bigger because he is supposed to grow to about 2 meters when he is standing up. The bear, surprisingly, does start to trust his volunteers and Bosh handled him well. As you can see in the picture, Bosh can get him to stand up by motioning with his arms, then the bear walks over to him and Bosh would take him by the paws, being careful not to touch the bears claws (which dont retract, unlike a puma) and dance with Baloo.
A few days ago I got the chance to join a nice couple from Israel on their morning walk with the jungle puma, Sonco. They were very helpful in letting me know, from previous experience, when the cat was about to do something such as stretch or scratch his claws on a fallin tree which meant I was ready for every kodak moment. The cats, technically, are only supposed to meet someone new at the minimum of every month and many volunteers, if not working with a cat, never get the opportunity to see one, so I was very fortunate to experience walking through the jungle with one. If you two read this, send me an email at zacharyamorris@gmail.com so I can stay in touch and relay the video footage that I captured of the two of you working with Sonco because I have a lot of it.

The refuge had a community of almost 40 volunteers with people leaving every couple of days and new ones showing up randomly at the cafe (as did I) saying they want to volunteer. The majority of the group would have a beer at the cafe after work which was a rewarding beer after a 10 hour work day. The people that volunteered were all ages with a concentration of people under 30. Some people had been there for 9 months while others were just finishing their two week stay when I arrived. The volunteers were from all over the world, some off the top of my head are: England, Canada, Sweeden, Malta, Israel, New Zealand, Australia, Argentina. For the most part everyone got along well. I definately had to swallow a few words every now and then with some of the long termer´s ´I-have-been-doing-this-for-5-months-so-I´m- going-to-correct-you-and-order-you-around´ attitude, but other that I enjoyed myself. Depending on whether or not it rained (being cooler when it rained) the temperatures were in the 90´s Frnht. and the humidity was high. Every day I would put on pants and a long sleeve shirt (often the same ones) to go to work in attempt of protection from mosquitos and all the other infamous beasts, such as bora bora, a moth who lays eggs under your skin, or the ¨24¨ ant, who, when it bites you, puts your body out of commision for the following 24 hours. It didn´t matter how dirty the clothes were, they all felt the same after an hour in the sun so you had to pick your battles. And washing work clothes was a pointless task because with the humidity it would take days to dry and counting on two days of sun without rain was a pipe dream, so every now and then I bought some clothes from a second hand clothing store in town. Just to clear up any confusion, thanks to the guys at high country (a camping store in atlanta) who convinced me to buy the overpriced quick-dry underwear, I was able to wash them every night.
My two week stay ended yesterday and it was sad to leave the friends I had made and the monkeys behind. At the beggining of the two weeks, just as with any animal, I would be careful about how I acted around each monkey to avoid being bitten. By the end many of the monkeys would recognize me and I had learned how to handle/play with them.  Last night I said my goodbyes and a few of my friends walked with me to where, I was told, would be a good place to flag down a bus to have some beers with me while I waited,  which was a gesture that, though minute, meant a lot. There is no bus station in Villa Tunari and I was told my best chance was between 11PM and 2AM and also a few times in the morning but given that I have a flight on the 6th I didn´t want to take any chances in waiting until the morning of the 5th. I saw some Bolivians sitting with bags and asked them if they, too, were going to Santa Cruz. After their too much information answer about there had already been five buses come by going to Santa Cruz but they were full, I enjoyed one last cold beer with my friends. Before we finished the can a bus arrived and they agreed to bring the 5 Bolivians and the sole Gringo aboard. My price (the tiered gringo pricing system) was 50 bolivianos, about 6 bucks, and they had me sit up front in the passenger seat with one person sitting on the window in front of me who was working (they often had a runner to get out and pay tolls, register the vehicles at check point, etc.,) and about four people between me and the driver on sort of a stadium seating made out of the stairs leading to the rest of the bus. The 5 bolivianos who boarded with me all slept on the floor board of the hallway leading to the main seat and I think they paid about 50 bolivianos for the 5 of them which they so cleverly got out of paying in full because the bus driver didn´t have change for three 20´s when he dropped them off right outside of Santa Cruz. It took a while to fall asleep on the 6 hour bus ride because my nerves were a little high for sleeping with the guy stepping over me to go pay tolls or get a toll ticket what seemed like every 20 minutes. And every time we dropped someone off and I heard the cargo latch open, i couldn´t help but watch to make sure my bag wasn´t snagged (everything that meant anything was clutched tight in my arms as I tried to sleep, with my arms through the straps, so my bag in the back really didn´t have anything in it but clothes and toiletries-expendable items if I were to chose something to be robbed. I arrived early in the morning and took a taxi to the hostel I had stayed in previously, and tomorrow I fly to Buenos Aires.