By Samantha Salazar / Multimedia Reporter
In the darkness of the night, a group of 14 students from Delaware Valley University hauled their suitcases into a coach bus bound for Newark Liberty International Airport. Twelve hours later, we were aboard another bus weaving through a tropical forest in Costa Rica. While I have visited South America before, I still felt an electric buzz of excitement growing within me.
Every spring, Dr. Greg George, a DelVal professor, teaches a tropical ecology course with a 10-day trip to Costa Rica during spring break. While the lecture prepares the students for the extensive voyage, there is nothing quite like this living laboratory experience.
Once I stepped foot into the terminal, I was greeted with an overwhelming rush of tropical heat.
At this point, I had been running off two hours of sleep and nervous energy. Despite our rush to the custom lines, it seemed as if half of America was lined up to get into the country.
Eventually, my entire class and I made it through with bags in hand, bladders empty, and hopes high. Once boarding the coach bus, I sunk into the soft seats and felt the chilled air on my skin. My eyelids became victim to exhaustion, only to flash open whenever a classmate exclaimed, “Look!”
After a grueling seven-hour bus ride, we finally arrived at Camaquiri Conservation Initiative, a rural biological station in Limon Province, Pococi. We were welcomed with a chorus of serenading frogs and a sky so full of twinkling stars that it looked like city lights. The following morning marked our first full day at CCI, and the beginning of our adventure. In the daylight, I could see that our camp was surrounded by the most vibrant and lush plants my eyes have ever seen. Nectar-filled flowers were breakfast for hungry hummingbirds, squawking parrots were flying overhead, and howler monkeys could be heard vocalizing in the distance.
At CCI, our days consisted of three to four hikes a day, with breaks to eat delicious food and reapply copious amounts of bug spray and sunscreen. Our binoculars, boots, field guides, and bottles were practically extensions of our own bodies. With my camera hanging from my neck, by default, I became the trip photographer.
Once we stepped onto the dirt trails, the jungle canopy seemed to swallow us whole, along with any stray beams of sunlight. The walls of foliage surrounded us entirely, and I suddenly became aware of all the forms of life that could see us, but we couldn’t see them.
On the last day, our class hiked for four hours in the jungle, crossing countless bridges and fighting mud-slicked routes. I had a few close calls, but luckily, I did not experience the Costa Rican slip and slide. While we fueled up for lunch, we prepared for a different kind of exercise: We would be playing the neighborhood boys in a match of soccer. My classmates and I arrived on the field to prepare ourselves against annihilation. While the other team was prepared with cleats, shin guards, jerseys, and soccer socks, our team sported regular sneakers and everyday clothes. Running on the field with all my might trying to beat a group of soccer boys filled me with a childlike need to win.
With flocks of colorful parrots flying above our heads, we played from peak afternoon heat into dinner time. Like my other classmates, my sneakers were coated with mud, and my entire body was dripping with sweat. Expectedly, we lost with a score of one through five.
The next location brought us to the higher altitudes of the Tenorio volcano. Our resting place for the next two days would be the Albergue Heliconias Lodge, a hotel equipped with a pocket of forest and natural trails. The nights were cool and the animals were plentiful. While walking around after dinner, I was on the hunt for the world’s largest cane toad that I had seen earlier in the day. This game of hide and seek was anticlimactic, as the cane toad had the same strategy as a toddler: Find a corner and stay still. With one swift snatch, it took both of my hands to restrain this monster. In the same night, countless species were found along with a much-anticipated velvet worm.
Our final location, La Ensenada Lodge in the city of Abangaritos, the change to arid air shocked my body and made me feel sluggish. In this new climate, the foliage appeared thirsty for a drink, despite being neighbors to the sparkling ocean. Without the protective canopy cover, I could feel the sun sizzling against my skin.
While waiting for our main journey, I took a refreshing visit to the pool with binoculars in hand, ready for spontaneous birding.
Once the time came, we cautiously stepped onto the creaky dock and filed neatly into our aquatic tour bus. With a crack of the engine, a jolt of motion sent the boat flying forward, like scissors slicing through paper. My hair was whipping wildly in the wind as the fragrance of saltwater filled my nose, and a cool mist sprayed my face. As always, I had the familiar weight of my camera and binoculars strapped to my side, ready for the chance to take a close shot of a seabird.
On the bus ride to our last hotel, we all passed around paper and pencil to write heart filled messages in our neatest handwriting, despite the bouncing bus. For the past two days, we had been working on a card for our tour guide Camilla, as we were her first tour group ever. During the trip, all of us had become close to her through sharing stories of romance, practicing our Spanish, or purely enjoying her company. She had become a part of our makeshift family, but unlike a souvenir, we couldn’t take her home.
Just as the country of Costa Rica became familiar, it was time for us to part. Before the crack of dawn, we were all gathered in Hotel Aeropuerto’s lobby giving our final goodbye hugs. As our luggage was organized like Tetris on top of the vans, we heard the last sweet song of the Clay colored thrush.
