The first few nights in the Bat Cave were interesting. We realized that we just needed to tuck our mosquito net under our bodies and then very few critters could get inside. Our favorite game was to wake up in the mornings and try to guess what the different insects were that crawled around on the net. That was after another unwelcome friend of ours went away. You’ll hear about It later. We also learned that we needed to shut and lock the shutters on our windows, because the howler monkeys and renegade chickens that fought each other in the yard could actually come inside, if they wanted. I’ve mentioned this before, but howler monkeys are not cute. They look and sound more like the trolls on “Willow”, and like to throw poo and rotten fruit at people who get too close. Maybe they bite people’s heads off, too. I don’t know, because I chose not to get that close.

On about the third night, I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. I was already scared because the shack was pitch black at night, I had to feel my way around and hope that I didn’t land my hands on a termite mound, while listening to the howler monkey trolls running around right outside the wall, which didn’t seem very protective. When I got to the bathroom, I flipped on the light (yes, there was electricity!) and immediately started screaming long, loudly, and shrilly. The bat, that had swooped down from its perch on the shower pole and hung in midair DIRECTLY in front of my face, also screeched loudly in a high-pitched, creepy, bat kind of way. Nate courageously came running from the bedroom and swatted it off, along with about 3 of its friends still hanging from the shower pole.

Remember the mysterious seeds glopped all over the bathroom? That was bat guava, my friends. Our little bat friends flew in from the warm, moist night and came into the house through the foot wide opening at the roof. They loved to glean and preen while hanging upside down from the shower pole.

I don’t know if they just came in groups after that, or if we had been too distracted by the World’s Largest Indoor Termite Mound to notice them, but they started hanging from all the rafters of the house, just gleaning and preening in that disgusting bat licking themselves way. Ugh. Then they would click their sonar sound thing and fly out to go look for something to eat. We stayed there for 10 days, and I could handle everything else, but the bats started to drive me “batty”, if you will (ha ha! I made a funny), by the end. We didn’t have a door on our bedroom, so every time a draft shook the bead curtain, I was sure one was about to land on my face.

We hung garlic from the rafters and that didn’t work. We tried to find sulfur to line along the shower curtain rod, but none was available and we couldn’t figure out how to ask in Spanish. Finally, we hung up one of my cross necklaces along the doorframe to our bedroom, hoping to deter the more vampire-inspired ones.

Nate eventually got tired of having to get up and bang on the ceiling with a huge stick to scare the bats away, then stand look out as I went to the bathroom every night, so he finally decided to take matters into his own hands. He went up to the third floor and found a large group of them up there. I sat huddled under the mosquito net in our room and heard the groaning and burgeoning of the stairs under his weight as he ascended the stairs. When he finally got to the attic room, which was directly above our bedroom, I could hear every sound he made due to non-insulation, which was accompanied by knowledge of every step he took due to the dust and dirt that rained from the ceiling in my room as he walked.

All I know is that I heard him say to the bats, “Oh, there you are. Well, here I am. Alright, it’s GO TIME!!” This was followed by random bangs on the ceiling, swatting sounds, karate screeches from Nathan, sonar clicking sounds in response, and an avalanche of dirt falling from my ceiling. At first, the dirt fell in a circular motion going clockwise. Then, a low moan from Nate. Then the dirt fell in a circular motion going the other way around. A cycle something like this went on for about 5 minutes. Every once in awhile I called up, “Nate…are you still alive?”

A low, muffled, “Yef…” was what would follow.

The shuffling upstairs stopped after awhile. Nate came backstairs, winded, and maybe a little defeated. He explained that when he banged the stick on the ceiling, the bats would go flying around in a circle. At first, he was chasing them. Then, they flew so fast that eventually they were chasing him. Then he would wave his stick of justice and try to chase them again, so they would change directions. Then they would be chasing him again.

We ended up just laughing it off. This was, after all, our honeymoon.

I’m realizing I will have to extend the story to a “Bat Cave: 3” part that was not originally intended, making this a four part series. Sorry if you find this story boring…cuz you’ve still got more to read, baby. :)

One of our furry flying friends [picture not ours…are you kidding?]. I think I’m going to throw up just looking at it. Now imagine that thing with its wings open and it SCREECHING 6 inches from your face.