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| Last moment with Osama |
Osama, as I affectionately called him, is an adult spider monkey at the rescue center. He's the lead and only male in the large enclosure of 6 spider monkeys in last stage of rehab before they're released back into their natural habitat.
From my first day, this curious little guy caught my attention - not only because his brachiation and agility inspired my movement creativity, but he's also pretty outgoing and talkative, coming to check out anyone who walked by the enclosure. Sadly, most workers would do only that - just walk by.
During my time at the center, Osama and I managed to build a bond thru the fence which kept us separate. Despite Monica's words of caution when I was first introduced to the center's facilities, I approached the fence to offer my hand. From that moment, every time I walked by, I would either stop for second or talk/exchange vocalization with him. He would move along with me on the other side of the fence, getting my attention by offering his back for grooming while making sounds characteristic of spider monkeys. A sound almost like a kiss from an alien... Because I know what a kiss from a alien sounds like.
My interactions with him would be spent mostly feeding him with worms or simply grooming his back while holding his surprisingly baby soft 4 fingered hand.
We affectionately gave him the name Osama for he was a bit of a "terrorist". Sometimes he would reach thru the fence to grab you or whatever it was you were carrying at the moment - maybe as a sign of dominance, or simply to get your attention.
Today, during what would most likely be our last day at the center, we decided to get some worms to treat the capuchins, the coatimundis and finally the spider monkeys one last time.
They would all love it. It was shown in the way they excitedly reacted when they saw the small plastic container full of the little meal worms destined to be food. The alphas, of course, claimed as much of them as they possibly could. This was Osama's time of "terrorism" - using his slightly longer reach, he'd quickly snatch the worms (which were intended for someone else) out of Monica's or my hand.
It was after this last moment of feeding-terrorism-frenzy that my communication with him went beyond any words I could have spoken. While Monica spent some time with "Lil Mama," another sweet spider monkey, I spent my time with Osama, just a few feet away from them.
Laying his tender hand over mine and resting his face on the fence, he wrapped his tail around his body and held onto the wire with it, hammocking himself comfortably. I sat on the ground on my side of the fence and groomed his shaggy hair while having homie talk. Realizing that we were soon about to leave, my energy shifted from homie talk to a sense of departure. It was right at this moment that his behavior changed. He became more eager to feel my touch, to pull me in as if wanting to hug me. His hands held tightly yet gently onto mine. His eyes fixed on me as he continued to vocalize. I had never seen him so eager to be groomed and to have me close as he now had. Does he know? I wonder....
This interaction went on for a few minutes. At this point there were no words from me; our communication went beyond them. Slowly and getting ready to leave, I stood up. With a quick climb on the fence he matched my height. We were looking eye to eye as I said, "Ok Osama, portate bien" (which translates to "behave well"). With these words, it was as if I had just taken something from him. His pull became stronger and his vocalizations much more excited. He let go of me and, like a kid throwing a tamper tantrum, he walked backward and forward, falling on the ground, rolling on the dirt, always keeping his eyes on mine. He repeated this behavior over and over. And I knew then that he knew I was leaving. I called him close and he approached me, still excited. I knew he'd soon be back in a place he would know as his home.
It became harder for me to leave, but it was something I had to do. As I walked along the fence on my way out, he ran with me, screaming and seeming sad. A couple of tears ran down my face as I felt the passion of his reaction. I had connected with this creature beyond any words. And with his long arms, he had reached all the way into my heart.
Eventually I walked away, but only a few meters from his enclosure I found something that I knew would appease him. I walked back and handed it to him. He delicately grabbed it, looked at me and started munching on it. Who says a sweet fresh mango can't heal a momentary heartache?
This experience won't be forgotten. It's a reminder of how much we can actually impact not only our human interactions, but in everything else that we touch as well. Let's touch delicately, let's touch with our conscious awareness and a heart full of love. We are constantly leaving traces behind our steps, whether we like it or not.
