What It’s Like to Meet the Young, Wild and Free
Musings on growing up, sloths and baggage
On a four-hour van ride in Panama (from Changuinola to David), I got chatting to a couple of American girls in their twenties. They had been volunteering at a sloth sanctuary in Costa Rica for six weeks.
As the bus zigzagged through the lush Panama countryside, the girls explained that sloths can have strong personalities, as can the staff at rescue centres. Their organisation being a non-profit did not make it impervious to egos and office politics. Far from it.
At the rescue centre, a couple of hours outside of San Jose, the girls shared a bunk bed room with other volunteers for their six weeks. And now, the two girls were travelling for a few more. Joined at the hip, with little organisation, planning or Spanish at their disposal.
After I got my myriad sloth questions out of the way, I still had one burning question.
How did you spend so much time with one other person, in such close quarters, without conflict?
Obviously, the assumption that there was no conflict is mine alone, a consequence of the rose-tinted glasses I wear from time to time. It says more about me then about them… probably.
