Just Like a Movie

“Ask him what it is.”

I wanted to make a joke, but my high school Spanish in combination with a last-minute Duolingo binge had not prepared me for making jokes about R.O.U.S.es. I figured The Princess Bride had made it down here ages ago, but I didn’t know the word for ‘princess’ or ‘bride,’ or even ‘pirate,’ and I didn’t think mentioning a “ratón gigante” would quite get my meaning across. 

We had flown over the mountains to the Pacific coast of Colombia on a 12-passenger plane from Medellin. When we landed in a clearing hacked out of the thick vegetation, I couldn’t help but imagine I was in Indiana Jones or Romancing the Stone. The airport was the size of a post-war tract home, and we were greeted by a dozen young men in military garb carrying machine guns. A couple were young enough to still be in braces.

The jungle was just what one would imagine a jungle to be if they had seen any movies. We’d had to get several inoculations to be able to come here, and there were malaria pills waiting for us back at the beach hut. I wiped sweat from my upper lip. I’m a total wimp when it comes to heat; one look at my pale, ruddy skin and it’s obvious my family should have stayed in the bogs from whence they came. 

Carlos laughed and turned to me. “It’s a capybara.”

“Why is that funny?” 

“He made a Princess Bride reference.”