Puerto Viejo and the Buttercup "Incident"

Rachel here! Well, today was our day off. Therefore, it was the most un-slothful day we have had to date here at the sanctuary…with one significant exception, which I will explain a little later. 

We celebrated our day off from sloth wrangling with a luxurious morning of slumber, staying in bed until almost 9:00 AM. Having adjusted to a 5:30 AM alarm clock this week, I am surprised we were able to sleep in even that late. At the suggestion of the sanctuary staff, we decided to take a public bus into Puerto Viejo to have lunch and wander around for a bit for the day. Unfortunately, the public transit system was a bit more complicated than we had anticipated. The bus stops here are completely unmarked, and there are no posted schedules of any kind. We sat at the sanctuary bus stop for a long time, waiting to be picked up, where we watched several buses whiz by without stopping. Nearly 45 minutes later, we were close to giving up, when a local woman sat down at our bus stop. Within a minute of her arrival, a bus began to approach, and the woman stood up and flagged it down. Lo and behold, the bus pulled over and picked her up. Apparently, you have to hail a bus the same way you would hail a cab. Otherwise, the driver apparently assumes you are enjoying a leisurely rest on the bus stop bench and have no immediate interest in transportation. We were able to flag down the next bus like old pros, and we were on our way. 

The drive to Puerto Viejo was about 26 kilometers, but took almost an hour to complete due to the number of stops we made along the way. I spotted a wild sloth during our trip, which was of course exciting, even with 150 of them waiting for me back at “home”. After some confusion surrounding where we were supposed to get off, we ended up exiting the bus at a stop alongside the beach. Town was about a half a mile away- the bus has already made a loop through town, but we apparently missed our stop- so we decided to walk along the beach and backtrack to where we should have gotten off. The beach was mostly deserted, and surprisingly unappealing. I may be spoiled, having grown up in South Florida, but the sand was covered in a thick layer of something that almost resembled dirt, or mud. Our feet and legs were covered in dirty muck in no time at all. The waves crashing onto the shoreline were much bigger than the surf I have seen in other Caribbean destinations. I understood today why Costa Rica is a major surfing destination. We made our way into town, and quickly discovered that this “icky” beach gave way into a small but pristine stretch of white sand beach, which was swarming with Americans. A handful of small restaurants, bars, and scuba rental shops dotted the shore. It was immediately apparent that Puerto Viejo is a popular, if not large, tourist destination (at least compared to other towns in this part of Costa Rica). We wandered around for a bit, and quickly learned that Puerto Viejo is relatively tiny. It consists of almost exclusively open-air bars and restaurants, some small local markets, and vendor stalls lining the beachfront. Interestingly, we noticed that a huge number of businesses did not open until 3:00 PM; apparently, this tiny little beach town has a big nightlife scene, though we never would have guessed it. We exchanged some U.S. dollars for Costa Rican Colones, and set out in pursuit of lunch. We were able to track down a spot that was recommended to us by a full-time volunteer at the sanctuary, and we decided to give it a go. It was a cute little open-air cafe called “Bread and Chocolate”; interestingly, we were one of 6 tables of guests dining in the restaurant, ALL of whom were American. We had a nice, light lunch of sandwiches and potato salad, and everything was very fresh and very tasty. At the insistence of the lady who recommended this place to us, we split a piece of ridiculously decadent, dense chocolate cake. It was fairly amazing. We didn’t do much “wandering” around town after lunch, since so many of the businesses would not be opening for a few more hours. We are thinking that we will go a bit later in the day on our next visit, so that we can get a better feel for what it’s like when everything is in full swing. I should add that we have no pictures from our Puerto Viejo day due to the fact that everyone advised us against bring our camera into town…apparently they have a bit of a pick pocketing epidemic, and I suppose a giant camera on a camera strap might identify us as tourists…though I am thinking that two white people walking around with a map probably contributed to that idea a little bit, even without said camera. 

Now. The sloth “thing” I was going to tell you about. First, before I launch into my story, I need to back up for a moment and tell you about Buttercup. Buttercup is arguably the world’s most famous sloth, if there is such a title. I met her 10 years ago when I visited the sanctuary on a day trip, and she made a lasting impression on me. She is the reason this sanctuary exists. 21 years ago, three little Costa Rican girls found an orphaned baby sloth, and brought her to their neighbor, an American lady named Judy Arroyo. Judy had taken in other orphaned animals before, but did not know anything about sloths. She attempted to do some research, and quickly learned that NO ONE knows anything about sloths. She was determined not to let this little baby- whom she named Buttercup- die, and Judy tirelessly experimented with a variety of around the clock care methods to ensure that Buttercup continued to thrive. Buttercup DID thrive, and for that reason, somebody else brought Judy another sloth…and then another…and so on. The rest is history. Due to the fact that Buttercup was the first sloth Judy ever attempted to raise, the care she was given was quite a bit different compared to the way sloths are being cared for today. Judy reasoned that baby sloths cling to their mothers, so she ensured that Buttercup had a human to cling to most all of the time. Buttercup was even allowed to sleep in bed with Judy and her husband! Clearly, the sloths that live here today are treated a bit differently. The point I am leading up to is that Buttercup still lives here at the sanctuary today, and her standard of care continues to be a bit different. She is the oldest known 3-toed sloth in captivity, and she widely considered the “Grand Dame” of the sanctuary. Buttercup spends her days lounging in a wicker basket, nay throne, which is suspended from the ceiling of the beautiful verandah located on the second level of the sanctuary. She peers down at her subjects, with her smiley little sloth face, and you get the impression that she truly believes that the entire sanctuary exists for her alone. She is frequently treated with hibiscus flowers, which is not something the other adult sloths normally have access to. For all intents and purposes, Buttercup is a cherished pet. To that end, nobody really handles Buttercup other than Judy herself, and a trusted full-time volunteer of the sanctuary. In fact, Buttercup’s hanging chair is boxed off by a red rope that surrounds her area, preventing anyone from getting too close. 

Fast forward to my story. This afternoon, we had just returned from town, and we headed up onto the verandah to buy a cold drink from the gift shop. Buttercup peered down at me as I paused to say hello to her, and I decided to take the opportunity to snap a quick picture of Her Majesty using my iPhone. As I waited for the camera to focus, Buttercup reached an arm out toward me. I didn’t think anything of it- sloths will do that- and I decided it would make a cute picture, with her reaching for my camera. As I waited for the lens to focus, Buttercup grabbed one of my fingers. She wrapped her three little claws all the way around, and held on tight. I quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching, and nervously attempted to place Buttercup’s hand back onto the edge of her basket (“No, no! I can’t pick you up- I’m sorry!”). She took that opportunity to grab my finger with her OTHER hand (“Buttercup…I can’t!”).…and, then, still clutching my finger, she began to climb OUT OF HER BASKET (“BUTTERCUP!!!!”). Suddenly, I found myself in a flustered power struggle with this highly off-limits (yet very sweet) lady sloth, and the next thing I knew, she was in my arms. I held her for a few seconds that felt like an eternity (just long enough for Paul to snap an elicit picture!), and then I quickly solicited help and ushered her back into her basket. Apparently, from what I understand, this was a very rare occurrence, as Buttercup doesn’t normally ask to be held by people who are not on her “approved” list. I think I should count myself among the lucky and the chosen, but I will also probably be keeping a safe distance from her “grabbing zone” for the remainder of our stay…though from now on, I can exchange a knowing look with her when I pass by, since we now have our little secret. 

The elicit picture I am technically not supposed to have...Shhhhhhh!!!!!

-Rachel