ADVENTURES IN MEXICO, PART II

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Last week, Mike, his father, and sister had made it to the biological station in Mexico. We’re still waiting to see how the monkey almost killed him. Some of us are rooting for the monkey.

So after a few days at the biological station we had settled into a routine. During the day, my dad and I would head out into the outlying areas looking for animals. We even found a boa constrictor, which was quite cool. You know how people who have pet boas are always eager to have you hold them, telling you how nice and sweet they are? Well, they clearly do not get their boas from Mexico, as this was the meanest creature I had ever come in contact with. Think Jeffery Dahmer, only not as cuddly.

During that time, my sister would lie in bed, only getting up to sprint to the bathroom to remove what little food she had been able to hold down for a short while. Montezuma, 1, Sister, 0. Don’t worry. After a couple of days she was fine. In fact, one day, while we were out tooling around with our non-nauseous selves, my sister was walking around the station, never too far from the facilities, when she saw some Toucans fly up. I never got to see Toucans when I was there. So you see? She was lucky that she was sick to the point of near-fatal dehydration.

After my father had a complete crew again, he decided that we would take a little jaunt to a nearby zoo. You know how zoos in the US have big, spacious pens where giraffes and zebras and elephants frolic and play, carefree as the day is long? Well, revers that image, turn it upside down, and look at it with your eyes crossed. That would describe the zoo we went to. In fact, I’m not even sure you should call it a zoo. It was more of a pound for wild animals.

We wound down a small trail in the jungle and, while standing at the entrance, could pretty much see the whole zoo. Or pound. Basically, cages were set up, housing various local animals. In the biggest cage were the Spider monkeys. (Oddly enough, on top of this cage were spider monkeys as well.)

These were by far the most fascinating of the 10 or 12 animals in the zoo. For one thing, when you approached the cage, the monkeys ran up to the bars and extended their hands. Our evolutionary brethren were reaching out! How sweet!

Turns out they just wanted to rub the sweat off your arms and lick it. Turns out they were just gross little freaks.

As I began to share my sweat with one monkey (I’ll call him Frank), we stared in each other’s eyes, and, I’m pretty sure, made a connection. He looked at me, and then looked at my hand, where I was holding a Coke bottle. Frank moved his hand towards the bottle and motioned, as if he wanted me to give it to him. The Coke bottle was empty, but I still could see no reason that a monkey would need an empty glass bottle. (Hey, I saw "The Gods Must Be Crazy.") So, I began to back away, out of his little monkey reach. At that moment, Frank lunged at the cage, extending his hand as far out as he could, barely getting his hand on the Coke bottle. I twisted the bottle away from him and took several steps back out of his reach.

This really ticked him off. He immediately began to spit on his hand. I guess that was his way of showing me that my sweat was no longer good enough for him. He stuck his hand through the cage towards my dad, who for some reason moved his arm towards the cage. Frank furiously rubbed my dad’s arm and then angrily licked at his little monkey hands. Again, a sweat message, I guess. As I watched the interaction between Frank and my dad, I guess I wandered a little closer to the cage, because in a flash, Frank had thrust both arms through the cage towards me.

With one hand, he firmly gripped the Coke bottle. With the other, he firmly gripped a chunk of hair on the back of my head. He put his feet up on the cage, and began pulling with all of his monkey might, which is quite a bit. My dad and sister began grabbing me, trying to ease his death grip from my hair and the Coke bottle. Eventually, his fingers were pried loose, and I reeled back away from the cage, Coke bottle and hair still in tact.

Frank was not happy about his defeat. He began screaming at the top of his lungs, which caused all of the other monkeys – in and on top of the cage – to begin screaming at the top of their lungs. We decided the best thing to do was to move on out, lest they get organized.

The rest of the trip was incredibly exciting and fun, but nothing that can compare to assault and battery with a deadly monkey. We made it back to the States (obviously) and you’ll all be please to know that I became violently ill on the plane ride back, much to my sister’s delight. Despite the zoo attack, I think I would like to head back to Mexico at some point, maybe even back to the biological station. For one thing, I’m pretty sure that monkey will have forgotten what I look like.