Rain in Eden

It’s been two days since the rain started. Everything is totally waterlogged. Water on the ground is rising, my clothes are damp and my hair hasn’t dried since I washed it yesterday. I’m here in the Yucatan to assist on a shoot about jaguar conservation in El Eden Ecological Reserve. While the rain comes down, it’s impossible to go about our task because one: we can’t exactly shoot in the rain, and two: jaguars don’t hunt in the rain. Despite the frustration about not being able to film, it’s been quite relaxing. There is no phone line or Internet here, so I’m finding ways to fill the time by reading, sleeping, and getting to know the people who are working here.

Trip and I are staying in a cabana high on stilts at the edge of the research station. It is high enough that from our little porch, it is possible to look out above the treetops for miles and miles. I’m not sure how long it’s been since I’ve been in a place so remote that it’s impossible to see any other man-made structures. Inside, is a little room with two bunk beds shrouded in Mosquito nets. There are three light bulbs, a sink and a gravity shower coming from a large black tank at the top of the palapa roof that covers our cabana. Each evening, we fall asleep to the sounds of frogs croaking and purring, and wake up to an orchestra of various birdcalls that range from chirps and whirs to distant sirens that reverberate above the treetops.

We arrived in Mexico on the evening of June 18th, and spent two days in Marco’s house in Punto Morello, a small town just south of Cancun. On June 20th, after a three-hour drive with Marco and Cuoltelmoc the scientist in a huge white suburban without air conditioner, two of which consisted of the bumpiest ride across a road cut on the rough limestone landscape, we arrived in El Eden. The first two days were really hot. We batted away mosquitoes as we set about the task of filming the preparations for the capture – the arrival of Sandra the veterinarian, Don Poncho the hunting expert and his son, and the goats that will be used as live bait. We also strolled into the savanna, a patch of desert where we filmed in the purple sunset.

One day, we woke up at 5:30 to film at sunrise. I didn’t wander far from the cabin when I saw a large bird walking on the limestone path in my direction. I quickly set up my tripod and camera and crouched down to keep my eye level with the viewfinder. I stood still. As the bird approached, I saw that it was a large turkey with a bluish bald head and iridescent black body. It strolled toward me at a steady speed until it was about thirty feet away. Then the turkey suddenly stopped and turned its head sideways to point an eyeball in my direction, then swiveled its head several times to look at me with both eyes before it trotted off into the brush.