One of the very worst things I've ever read in my whole entire life is this poem by D.H. Lawrence called Bat. At evening sitting on this terrace, he then Florence. When the sun from the west beyond pizza, beyond the mountains of Carrara departs and the world is taken by surprise. D.H. Lawrence actually wrote some really great poems about animals, about goats and elephants and even snakes. But something about bats just breaks his brain. This poem is 100% trash-talking.
These creatures that disgust him. And the poem ends with the dumbest ending I've ever encountered in the work of a major writer. In China, the bat is simple for happiness. Not for me, exclamation point. From The New York Times, this is Animal. I'm Sam Anderson. Episode 6. Bats. I'm reading this stupid poem in a rental car. Hurtling forward into the jungles of Mexico. And driving the car is my dear wonderful friend, Alan, one of my favorite animals on earth. He's actually the one
who introduced me to this bat poem in the first place. Alan and I met in our 20s when we were young and innocent and had beautiful fluffy hair. But a lot has happened since then. There have been births and deaths and all kinds of big life changes. Now, Alan and I live on opposite coasts. But we're still always talking to each other about everything, including our dream of taking this big trip together to Mexico,
which is where Alan is from. And now we are here on that trip in the Yucatan, one of the most epic places on earth. This is the place where the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs hit, where Maya civilization rose and fell. And now it's this wild explosion of biodiversity. It's like lizards and two cans and monkeys and jaguars and manatees. Manatees? Alan, you'll see. Like you'll see. All animals I would love to spend time with. But that's not why we're here.
We have come to the Yucatan to meet an animal that I do not particularly want to spend time with. The bats. The bat. Because my attitude towards bats is pretty close to D.H. Lawrence's. I am slightly embarrassed to admit they're not for me. We are all driving into the unknown together. We're like, we're here for the fat. It's a pretty uncomfortable place to be. And I do sort of... My family actually likes to make fun of me for being afraid of bats.
Yeah, there's a famous story in my family at the time. Because one time a bat flew into a room I was in and I allegedly screamed and shoved my mother in law out of the way. I pushed her out of the way. And just ran, went running out of. But in my defense, it's not just me. Bats are spooky, like famously spooky. They live in the dark, they can carry diseases, they bite. If you want to turn a normal house into a haunted house, you can just put some bats on it.
All the others I was very drawn to all of those creatures. And this is the first one that I will run away screaming from. So why are we going to see them? At least because of that, no? Yeah. Because of that. But I didn't want to feel this way. I wanted to want to understand bats. I wanted to get close to them and not run away screaming. I wanted to give them the respect and curiosity that I have for all the rest of the animal kingdom. But how are you supposed to get to know a bat?
Well, you find someone who knows the bats. And that person is Rodrigo Medellin. Sam, very good to meet you. So Alan and I, along with my colleague, Caitlin Roberts, meet up with Rodrigo and his bat team in the lobby of a very pink hotel in the tiny town of Spuhil, which is in one of the more jungly parts of the Yucatan Peninsula,
down south near the border with Guatemala. So the students that we have here, I have three students here, and Kelly starting Rodrigo is a professor of ecology at Unam, the big university in Mexico City. Javier, who is gathering his data for his thesis. Being a student has been studying the bats in the Yucatan for years. So we're going to take them out. We're going to process them, which means measure, weigh, see the nature world, especially in the
bat world. Rodrigo is a real celebrity. He's actually famous for helping to save a whole species of bat from the brink of extinction. It's called the lesser long-nosed bat. And he's agreed to let us tag along with him and his students while they do their bat work this week. And while we're all sitting around chatting, getting to know each other, who's this on your lock screen of your phone? And notice the photo on the lock screen of Rodrigo's phone.
What? It's body? And how wide it's wings? What? No. Almost a meter. It is terrifying. If you've ever had a nightmare about a bat, this is probably what you saw. It has huge, veiny ears and beady black eyes and this long, snout full of murder teeth. I imagine bats always just eating like little mosquitoes. Not these guys. When they bite you, you really feel the bite. Its body is like the size of a small dog. And its wingspan is like a hawk.
Yeah. And it is a hawk because the wings are very broad and he's very maneuverable. A little question. Are bats social animals? And it's clear that Rodrigo just lives for bats. He gets so excited telling us about this big, freaky bat and not just that bat. He's excited about every bat on earth and he wants to tell us about all of them. And then he comes back, lands on top of the females and he sold them. What they eat, where they live, how they mate. That disgusting mix that he has in his sack
fall on the females. He's marking his females that way. What the hell? Bats are gross. I'm sorry guys. Can you tell me why you are not terrified of bats? I would trade you and ask you why are you terrified of bats? I don't get it when people out there are flying a bat. I really don't. You've never screamed and run away from a bat. Me? Absolutely never, never, never, never, never. Rodrigo isn't only a bat scientist. He is a bat evangelist.
I started my first bat gaming to my house when I was 13 years old. What is that? Do the math. It all started when he was a tiny little kid. He loved animals. He says the first word he ever said was flamingo. He told us he pronounced it gluglingo or something like that. And he was actually kind of a prodigy. Rodrigo knew so much about animals that he ended up on this famous primetime game show in Mexico called El Gran Premio de los Sessenta Equatro Meal Pesos,
the 64,000 Peso Grand Prize. And so this little kid is on primetime TV answering every question they could throw at him about animals. And a biology professor from Unam was watching. And he invited Rodrigo to come out with him into the field. So little Rodrigo ends up going out with scientists to study all kinds of animals. And eventually one of them takes him into a cave. And this is when Rodrigo Medellin holds his very first bat. He told us that the moment shook him
inside. And he suddenly understood why he was here on earth to protect and advocate for bats. Which is what he's been doing ever since. So originally the image of bats was positive. According to Rodrigo, bats are not only not disgusting or dangerous. They are beautiful and smart. And because they play a crucial role in pest control and pollinating and dispersing seeds, they're also good for the world. But then something happened that made it negative.
What was that? Basically they're just victims of bad PR. Dracula. Which is an amazing novel. Dracula and vampires and stuff. It's an unfair world, seriously. And it really is an unfair world. Like many animals on earth right now, bats are in trouble. Not only for the usual reasons, like habitat loss and climate change, but for special problems all their own. They're devastating diseases. And they get annihilated
by the big turbines at wind farms. And there's also this issue of the bad PR. People like me are afraid of bats because of the whole flappy spooky bitey thing. Which is then used as an excuse to do all kinds of violent, horrible things to them. People poison them or seal them up in caves or even burn them alive. But it wasn't always this way, especially not here in the Yucatan. In pre-Colombian times, bats had a very positive image. You see the archaeological remains,
pottery, temples, etc. You are going to find bats represented. In the culture of the Maya, this ancient civilization that thrived here for thousands of years, bats are everywhere. In stories and paintings, they even had a month called Zots. The month of Zots roughly coincides with the month of October. Which is the month of happiness and wealth and abundance because it's the month of harvest.
And in Maya mythology, bats represent a living link between our world and the underworld. Death basically. Your soul goes to rest after you're dead. And bats help you get there. The Maya called the underworld Shibalba or the Place of Fear. Which if you ask me, bats are a perfect mascot for a place like that. Okay. Huh. Alright. So we're doing this show about animals. And every animal we've gone to has been something that I love and feel drawn to. And the bat is the first that I'm not drawn to.
That I search is cream, and I run away from. You are not going to run away from bats after we're done in this tree. Okay. Okay. I'm open to it. Oh. I'll convert you. I'm absolutely convinced of that. Conversion story. Okay. Let's try. Alright. Let's go. Which of the bats are there? Oh. Even the pot holes have pot holes. Alan and Caitlin and I follow Rodrigo and his students down the most pot holy road I've ever been on. The underworld trying to open up. Yeah.
Into the jungle, which is just overwhelmingly dense. It's like a solid block of trees and vines. And apparently inside of it somewhere is a Maya ruin called El Ormigaro where bats live. I'm just like a ten excitement. Ten excitement. Oh, I'll know. There is like an animal part of me that is screaming and running away right now even as we go there. These are bats that Rodrigo and his team have been studying for years. And today they're going to check up on them, catch them and tag them
and record a bunch of data. Oh, it's so big. The temple is magnificent. I've never seen anything like it. That is the one in front. It's this crumbling structure built out of white limestone roughly 1500 years ago. Okay, come and let me show you what I'm covered with or neat carvings. If you look at the temple from this side and the front door looks like a giant mouth with huge stone fangs. So when you go inside, it's like you're being swallowed. You look just above and you can see
the teeth of the jar were coming down. Rodrigo leads us up these ancient stone steps, past a no-trest passing sign right to this very dark and intimidating hole in the stone about waist high. I'm putting two gloves on because the bite of these bats is really something out of the scale. And then Rodrigo and his students get all geared up. They put on headlamps and grab these long handled nets and they stoop down and disappear into the darkness. I'm actually helping hold up a
tarp against the opening so the bats can't escape. And after a little while, looking very dusty and sweaty. Rodrigo and his students pop back out. One thing I never big pop. I cannot believe that that model is even flying in here. He's so excited he's out of breath because he's found his bats. And he and his students are holding them in these bags. These checkered cloth bags. They look like they're made out of tablecloths from an Italian restaurant. And the bags are all swinging
and flopping around. And they carry these bags outside the temple back down the steps to where they've set up a little science station out on a folding table. So we're going to proceed then. But I want to process first and foremost the mother. And he's so excited. He tells us this is a bat he's named Big Mama. She's probably big time and she's probably big mama. Okay, she knows the drill. Rodrigo grabs one of the squiggling bat bags and very tenderly he reaches in and he pulls out
the first bat. But I'm going to wait. I have to say even if you are a bat lover, this is a strange looking creature. It's called a woolly false vampire bat. Big teeth, big ears, big eyes and a big nose leaf. It's got fuzzy brown fur in this sort of tall pig snout called a nose leaf. If they have this nose leaf, that means that they can carry the fools in their mouth. Rodrigo told us this is so they
can echolocate while their mouths are full. They can fly around with a big rat or a mango in their mouth and still shoot these noises out of their nose leaf so they can fly through the jungle without smashing into trees. So if you look at the nose leaf like that, it's a perfect segment of a parable. Oh yeah, it's very directional. It's very easily directed by the bat. The bat team weighs the bat and measures its wingspan and they punch out a little tissue sample from its wing. How?
Oh! And Rodrigo puts it back in the bag. And then one by one pulls the other bats out of their bags. And the whole time they keep biting the crap out of them. Oh, I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. And he does not seem to mind at all. He just loves these bats so much. That's a lot. Say you're a blutter, it's blood. I think it's mine. I'm standing at a distance and I'm freaked out but also fascinated. And then this is the baby. I have one of the bags. Rodrigo pulls out a baby bat.
It's so freaking cute. It's fresh and fuzzy. Look at the milk. It has little pink feet. And it's stomach. And Rodrigo flips it over to show us that you can see through the baby bats pink belly skin, milk in its stomach that it's been nursing from its mother. Oh, there it is. Because these bats are part of a little family. They're a family of bats. And seeing all this just unlocks my general feeling of love for all animals. These bats
suddenly seem vulnerable and out of their elements. Let's take them all and put them in the shade in the temple. And so when Rodrigo and his students climb back into that dark hole and put the bats back into their temple, I see the darkness a little differently. It's not only a horrifying void of death. It's also just where the bats are. Big mama and her fuzzy little family. It's actually not even dark to the bats. I mean, yes, it's littered with bones and guano and
severed mouse tails, but it's their home. And I'm kind of curious now. I can almost maybe sort of imagine going in there myself into the bats world to see the darkness with my own eyes. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe? Maybe. Did they miss the turn? That was that though? Damn. What's happening? We're on our way to visit another bat roost with Rodrigo at a temple called Oacle Weats. And on the drive there, we see a small fire.
We're patches of the jungle are being cleared. There's tractors and white dust everywhere. And what we're seeing is a gigantic project that's going to change the Yucatan forever. It's called Train Maya. This railroad that will circle the whole peninsula right through the wilderness. A clear cut and the level. Breaking up habitats and supercharging development. The whole thing is very controversial. Alan told me that it's creating a lot of jobs.
It's really helping the Yucatan economy. But Rodrigo is worried about the impact of all this on the wildlife here. Especially, of course, the bats. We follow Rodrigo off the main road, deep into the jungle, and then we hike. It's like the million and a half degrees. Later monkeys. But then we see it, the temple. 600 years of abandonment. This one is even more ruined than the first one. There are jungle plants growing right out of the
stones. It feels secluded and totally abandoned. It's like we've slipped into some secret back pocket of the universe. This is the temple of Auculloites. As you can see, a whole wall of the temple is missing. But the bats love it here. It's channeled, it's protected, it's cool. It's beyond the reach of any predator. So they love it here. We all take turns peaking in there through an old doorway, whispering so we don't bother the bats. Can I go in to the bat temple?
What now, limit? The bats are up in a high corner. They're just a cluster of dark shapes hanging upside down against the gray stone. What is this temple? I don't think anybody knows. Who's here? I don't know. Where are they now? There doesn't come. See the years. Do you think they're echolocating us? I know they're echolocating. Maybe I'll look those two in the back on the left here. They're getting very, very close together. They're
clinging to each other. I think they love each other. We feel an affection, a male or a face attached to each other and they depend on each other for the survival. Beyond that, I cannot tell you that they love each other. I can stand in here while you catch the bats. I can't believe I just asked to stay in here. We'll sit you there. The bats are calm right now, but once Rodrigo starts trying to catch them, they will not be calm.
Seriously? Even though I've seen some cute bats now, I am still very afraid of them. Yeah, that's with the test. Is that part of progress? Can we call that progress? But I think just being around Rodrigo and his love for bats, it has made me curious. In that curiosity, for this one moment, just barely outweighed my fear. If they land on you, just don't move. Don't scream on run. No screaming. Get him off. Get him off. No, nothing like that.
Rodrigo sits me down on this pile of rubble at the back of the chamber and the students outside wrapped the whole chamber up in tarps so we're sealed in. Even if I wanted to run away screaming, I couldn't. I'm stuck here until Rodrigo is done and it is dark. It's cool and musty and it smells like ancient stone. Okay, we're ready. But after a minute, my eyes start to adjust and I can just barely see the bats up in the corner. These dark shapes against the ceiling.
I see Rodrigo kind of sneak over and reach up his long net and try to catch a bat. And that's when the motion starts, the bat motion, the flitting and darting, you know, bat stuff. The bats are flying around like nightmare confetti. And I'm just sitting here frozen, trying to stay calm, dissociating. And I found myself thinking weirdly of my father. Because I realized I was sitting in this dark bat chamber and I was wearing my dad's socks,
which I inherited when he died. And I remembered this flash of a memory from when I was a kid. It was the first time I ever saw a bat in my life. After my parents got divorced, my dad used to love to take us to caves when he had us for the weekend or something. He would take us on tours or exploring on our own. It was kind of our special place outside of the normal world. And I remembered being maybe five years old and deep in this cave, when suddenly there was this
motion out of nowhere and it was bats. And one of them flew so close to my face and I remembered seeing its teeth and the little pig nose. And the funny thing is, I don't think I was scared because my father was right there with me. I was just interested. It actually seemed amazing that there was this whole other form of life deep down in the earth. And here we were crossing paths. And now 40 years later sitting in this dark temple in the Yucatan,
I was just kind of swimming in this memory. When suddenly I look up and Rodrigo and his student have caught all the bats and they're holding their little checkered bags and the chamber is suddenly unwrapped and the light comes flooding back in and we're back in the daylight. And it occurs to me that maybe my fear of bats isn't really about bats. Maybe it's more about what they represent all the deeper, darker stuff, the unknown, the void,
death. You shut the door without a tree in it. You got me going to go through the floor a bit? I'm jungle tired. I'm so tired. And all this bat family talk and the memories and socks and impermanence, it's got me thinking about my family, about my daughter Greta, who's off at college and my son Beckett, who turned 16 while I was on this trip. And I didn't think it would really bother me not to be there for his birthday, but now it really does. And Alan can relate because
he found out this morning that his baby daughter Maria took her first steps. Everything is just rushing forward without us. Big milestones. I know. I've known them a lot of love and distance at the same time. What are you going to do, your boys all grown up? I don't know. I can't even imagine. I cannot imagine it sounds devastating. I mean, and not like joyous and wonderful and they have their lives and then they'll come back and you know, like, you know, there's all that.
There's like, there's the part where it's an ending and there's the part where it's just wonderful development and like, you feel when they're different, that would be bad. But yeah, I don't know. Then you die and then everyone forgets that you existed and then you're then your civilization is a big husk of ruins. We took it too far. I guess, I mean, I guess. I mean, I'm looking at those Mayan temples and I'm thinking like, everything dies. Like,
the forests, things are dying all around us. The animals are dying and you're going to die and both of our dads died and like, everyone is going to have a dead dad. Like, that's what it means to be alive is that eventually you have a dead dad. Unless you die first. But then there's the fact that it was like individual, did my individual dad, Peter Anderson, who died. And I have to sit around thinking about that all the time because he was my individual dad. Yeah, I think about it
every day. Really? Yeah. He was a really affectionate, sweet kind man. I took a bunch of his clothes after he died and so I'm always wearing his socks or his raincoat or his fingerless gloves all winter long and all kinds of stuff. It's serious. So I'm always thinking about him. I think about him every day. We drive on through the jungle toward our last stop with Rodrigo. A very special place that the Bat team has told us is going to
blow our minds. And it's basically the last place I could have imagined myself going to before this trip. We are 43 minutes away. Because even the name of this place sounds like a horror movie. It's called the Bat volcano. And we are going there after the break. Let me tell you a story about a hole. A deep, dark, intimidating hole in the earth, in the Yucatan, where thousands of years ago the limestone collapsed, leaving this big canyon
with a cave at the bottom. They call it the Bat volcano. Welcome guys. So stay on this side of the rope. Because every night millions of bats erupt out of this hole to fly off into the darkness. Tell me what we're looking at. We're looking at a gaping mall in the center of the earth. Yeah, we're looking into the throat of planet Earth. How far down does it go? I heard to tell the scale of it is so big, a few hundred feet. Rodrigo insisted that we see the
Bat volcano. Ten miles. I don't know. He wanted us to feel not just what it's like to see a few bats or a family of bats. But to be completely outnumbered, fully immersed in bats. Plus there's a whole crowd of other people because this place is kind of a tourist attraction. Like 30 meters long, six meters high. It's still light outside so nothing has started yet. We're just staring down, waiting. I think this is going to be impressive. It feels like the bat capacity for this cave.
And then the sky clouds over and it starts to rain on us. A real tropical downpour. There's no shelter so we're just standing there getting soaked. And I ask Rodrigo, is the rain going to stop the bats from flying? And he says absolutely nothing will stop these bats from flying. So we stand there, sopping wet, waiting. Oh, there you go. First thought. And finally we see the tiniest little flitting in this giant bowl of the canyon. It's almost
nothing just a speck of motion. And then a couple more specks. And then a few more thickening. It's thickening. It's sort of like watching popcorn pop. Getting really close. There's like one kernel and then two. And then all of a sudden a million kernels. But these are bats, just infinite bats coming out. Different sizes, different species. But they're all sort of moving together. Like this huge super organism. Oh my god. They're just really getting thick and thicker over on that side.
And soon the whole universe is bats. It's really hypnotic. I feel completely dwarfed. They're coming really close to my head. And in that moment I feel the strangest feeling. Do you feel scared? Oh, you feel good? He's absolutely not. Because it's extremely delicate and beautiful. It's really beautiful. I feel sued by the bats. I'm not scared at all. Bats are passing right in front of my face through my legs. They're shooting through the tiny
space between me and Alan. And there's a crowd of people around us watching and we are all completely silent. There's this reverence in the air. Cover your eye. I don't know how many thousands or tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands of bats flew right by me that night within arms reach. None of these bats ever came close to touching me. But I could feel their attention on me. And I felt this absolute sense of trust. All I had to do was stay in there and watch.
In these millions of bat wings flapping, it sounded like rain, which reminded me of Oregon where I'm from, where my dad lived. And then out of the silence, I hear a tiny voice calling out. A little girl calling for her papa, which is what I called my dad, papa. And I thought about all the bats we'd seen and the bat families holding each other, huddling together close, hanging from the ceiling like a bunch of bananas.
And then I thought how in my own tiny life, surrounded by all this depth and darkness that I'll never understand, all I really want to do while I'm still here is just hang like a bunch of bananas close to all of the creatures that I love. My friend Alan, my little family, Walnut, until one of these days, maybe soon, maybe a long time from now, the darkness will take me. And I will spread my wings and fly off into some other world that I don't understand.
And at least at this moment, standing on the edge of this giant hole, immersed in this living cloud of bats, that actually sounds just fine. This episode was produced by Caitlin Roberts with help from Crystal Doohame and reported by me,
Sam Anderson. It was edited by Wendy Dorr. Our executive producers are Paula Schumann and Larissa Anderson, engineering by Marion Luzano, original music by Marion Luzano and Dan Powell, fact checking by Anna Alvarado, special thanks to Jake Silverstein, Sasha Weiss and Sam Domingue, also to Rodrigo Medellin and his wonderful students. Javier Torres Servantes, Monika Isquierdo Susanne, Anhel Uriel Torres Alcantara, and my good old buddy Alan Page
for finally taking this trip with me. You can listen to all of our episodes wherever you get podcasts or visit our website at nytimes.com slash animal. I am Sam Anderson. Thanks for listening. The H Lawrence also wrote a poem about mosquitoes. You remember how that one goes? It doesn't say not for me. It likes mosquitoes better than bats.