Kissing Frogs - A Tropical Fairytale

Wild Ride

I spend the whole morning at the center interviewing Lola, who's turning out to be the perfect source for my paper. She knows everything about frogs and the local legends of Panama. I'm growing fonder of the little guys, and not just because they're the only things that can save my butt from failing bio. The more I learn about them and the other frogs, the more I realize the importance of individual species to biodiversity as a whole, not to mention their place in Panama's cultural landscape.

God, I'm beginning to sound like Juan.

I look over at him with a smile. He's filming some of the interview for his documentary and my report while Harp watches us, cutting up most of the bamboo alone. She looks amazing, her glossy straight hair now pinned back.

I ask my last question. "Do you think that the golden frog and others will ever be reintroduced to the wild?"

Juan focuses in on Lola, who contemplates it with a serious expression on her face.

"Of course I hope to see them in these forests again. And there are new developments every day in the fight against chytrid." She looks at the camera, her voice husky. "But it depends on us. Many species are on the verge of going extinct and the golden frog is only one of them. They are an ambassador species, similar to Sumatran orangutans and tigers or polar bears. People need to realize that once these creatures are gone we can never get them back. They're lost to us forever, and with them we lose a piece of our humanity."

Juan lingers on her sincere face for a moment then turns the camera off.

"You sure know how to work the camera," he says.

"I used to be an actor." Lola dimples modestly.

"Really? That's so cool!" Harp says from behind her massive bamboo pile. "When?"

"Before I went to college in the US. It was just for some silly Spanish novela," she says, dismissive. "I think you call them soap operas?"

"What made you go into conservation?" I ask.

"I've always loved animals, but to tell you the truth, it was Kenny," she says. "He was just so passionate. I was really inspired by him."

"It sucks you guys live so far apart," I say.

"Sí." She's somber.

"Have you ever thought about moving back to the US?" Juan asks.

"The frogs need me here," she says. "My country needs me. I cannot turn my back on them." Her voice breaks. One hand goes to her mouth to muffle a cry. "Perdóneme." She hurries out the back door with a murmured, "Un momento."

Harp and I watch her go and let out a little sigh at the wrenching sacrifice of it all.

Travis pokes his head in the doorway. "How's it going?" he asks, pushing the hair that's forever falling into his eyes off his face.

"Good." I take a step toward him.

"You ready?" he asks, smiling, and my heartbeat involuntarily picks up tempo.

"Um, I think so." I turn to glance at Harp and Juan.

"We're done anyway," Harp says as we walk outside with Travis. Clouds have rolled in since this morning and the air is refreshingly cool. "Where are you going?"

"It's a surprise," Travis looks at me, green eyes sparkling with their familiar mischief. I feel like I've just stepped off a roller coaster at Six Flags. Something inside me that I didn't even know I was fighting finally and completely gives way.