Yesterday, Krista and I teamed up with a guy from the Netherlands named Tjerk who at first said his name was C.J. because people always laugh when he tells them his name has the word jerk in it. His last name sounded like "Rubemraw", but he didn't even try to change that.

Anyway, Tjerk and I went down a cave together. The entrance was all grandiose with bamboo ladders and bridges leading down to it. Big Tarzan vines draped down from up above creating a natural curtain. There were so many cut-outs in the rock, it was hard to find the main tube. After several dead ends, we finally found the intended path. It felt like somebody left the refrigerator door open. I envisioned locals keeping their butchered beef and their beer cold in there. Tjerk had his rented head lamp with its five pound battery attached and I had my mini L.E.D. flashlight that I purchased from Wal-Mart before I left The States. Our lights barely lit enough of the floor to make our way through the muddy chamber. Tjerk's light went out only three yards into the cave, so I was forced to lead the way.

As we proceeded, the tube got smaller and smaller and my worries got bigger and bigger. About a week ago, I saw a special on the Discovery Channel about subterranean crocodile nests. It showed researchers crawling into little caves where these crocodiles dwell. Sometimes the crocs would get mad and the researcher would have to crawl out on his belly backwards narrowly escaping a bloody death. All this raced through my mind as a black-eyed green frog resting upside down above my head gazed at me.