We entered the cave greeted by 2 huge rats which seemed unphased by our presence. They disappeared into the walls.
The 3 of us, and no one else in the cave, walked through curles of stone curtains rippling across the walls and ceilings, some parts moist some dry.
There was an array of colors and textures from calcium carbonate reactions imposed onto the stones, some round, some ribbed, all mysteriously shaped by time.
Bat shit everywhere. But they came out only at night. We were there during the day.
One gets the sense that the stones were alive and breathing over the course of eons inside the belly of this cave. There was a mini silky waterfall that poured into a pool floored with smooth peanut butter mud, which I grabbed like a toddler with my rubber boots. Another waterfall had dried up but left a trail of shimmering crystals.
We walked along gigantic poop columns and passed clusters of dew along the cave walls. The dew gave some stones a translucent colorful depth when contacted by the flashlight of our helmets.
A huge hairy long-legged spider centipede thing scurried around the rock when we came. It seemed more startled than we were. I’m not sure what the creature is called, I think it’s called dont-you-ever-touch-me-or-I’ll-scream-like-a-little-girl.
At one point we turned off our helmet lights and a purely dark silence thickly wrapped us. Eyes open or closed made no difference in that darkness. The aloneness shaped my voice when I spoke.
Author
Arya Salehi is a storyteller and growth coach, helping people foster trust and behavioral change in themselves and their relationships. He believes in asking the right questions, rather than having all the answers.