Each resident naturalist I met doubled as a guide and cultural attaché. They lead visitors on hikes, conduct workshops, show you how to milk a cow, teach you to dance the "cumbia", and tell you everything you ever wanted to know about butterflies, quetzals, or medicinal herbs. I could have stayed busy for weeks with the array of activities they offered.
Life at the Ecolodge starts before sunrise when the farmer and his horse begin collecting milk cans along the Valley's paths. It can end well past midnight, if you get caught up in a philosophical discussion over wine with the biologists in the main lodge. I started my stay at Ecolodge San Luis by opening all my senses to the cloud forest. Sight is our predominate sense, so Kerry, my resident naturalist for the day, blindfolded me to force my ears, nose and fingers to take over.
With only Kerry's voice and a string to guide me I blindly wandered down a specially prepared trail: touching tree bark; inhaling the aroma of flowering plants and listening to the calls of tropical birds all in the company of an expert biologist. I was amazed at the number of bird calls I could distinguish in my heightened state.
Three distinct calls came from the nearby mate long-tailed manakin or the "Toledo" bird. They were singing their mating cal] and dancing on the branch of a tree doing their best to attract a female. If she likes the song and dance she stays and mates with the oldest of the three. The others are manakins-in-training, duly recording what works in hopes of starting their own family.
Geographical Division 
