The Battering Rain Drumming on the Wooden Cabana

Reflections from my Earth Expeditions to Belize

By Christian Gueits

A monkey in a tree eating a fruit
An individual monkey, photographed in its natural habitat, perches on a mossy branch amidst the forest foliage as it consumes a piece of fruit.
Photo by Christian Gueits

The battering rain drumming on the wooden cabana during the night was a violent soundscape. Every once in a while, a chilling call came from the surrounding shadows that hugged the structure. A warm, measly light emitted from the camping lantern the student within was utilizing to illuminate his leatherbound journal. The book was damp, but usable. It emitted a scent only a book like that could. As he closed the tome and snuffed out the light, the world outside remained naturally loud. And he was at peace. The memories he had been gathering for a few days started to swell in his mind, and, eventually, he fell asleep.

The nights are still loud for him, but natural? Not quite. There is the robotic whirr of the air purifier, and the low buzz of the red light bulb used to generate heat for a tortoise. Instead of memories calming the mind, there is the anxiety of not doing enough or even doing too much. However, there is also the enveloping comfort of knowing he is working towards a worthy goal.


This past summer on my Earth Expeditions Belize course, I learned a lot about the world, myself, and where I want to go. For those ten days, I felt like I was a part of something bigger. I grew addicted. Coming home was like going cold turkey to the most amazing feeling, and that hung on me. There were stages to it. Yes, I know I sound dramatic, but I can’t help it. There has been a pull tugging me along for months now. Possibly even years, and I just didn’t realize it. I keep trying to figure out where that tug is leading me towards, but I often find distractions along the way.

It is so easy to fill your time and thoughts with the exploits of others that you envy rather than follow your own convictions and do the things you are envious of. But it is not impossible.

I have noticed that ever since returning from looking for toucans and writing about eagle rays, that I am hungry to consume the content produced by people exploring and experiencing the world in different ways. I scroll, and scroll, and scroll, and scroll, and then I think about everything I could have been doing instead of scrolling. It usually results in the same response action: more scrolling. It’s when I pause and take stock of what I have actually been scrolling through that I realize what I am doing. It is so easy to fill your time and thoughts with the exploits of others that you envy rather than follow your own convictions and do the things you are envious of. But it is not impossible.

A stingray in water shaking dust of itself.
Dusting up the ocean floor: A spotted stingray actively stirs the sandy bottom while searching for a meal in a sunlit seagrass bed.
Photo by Christian Gueits

I am not trying to sound negative. I am instead setting up the basis for my motivation. I have felt stuck, searching for something that I couldn’t define, and it has been frustrating. It has also been invigorating. As I strive to get back those feelings from the summer, I have taken many steps towards ambitions I used to push aside. I have stepped out of my comfort zone, and I have told myself that I refuse to quit. And I do refuse, vehemently. No matter how late the assignments are, no matter how long my shifts go, and no matter how much I try to convince myself that I need to keep scrolling, I am determined to be the one that others will see on their feeds when they get tugged along by an unknown feeling.

I am determined to be the one that others will see on their feeds when they get tugged along by an unknown feeling.

I want to inspire, and I want to create. Most importantly, and a little selfishly (although reasonable), I want to be happy. All I know is that I tend to smile when I think back to those violent rains hammering down on the cabanas, when I was thinking about what tomorrow would bring. Lately, slowly yet surely, that’s been happening here at home more often. As I connect with my community, get involved with hatchling turtle releases, research endangered amphibians, and investigate marine mammals in local waters, I can’t help but wonder what tomorrow will bring.


Author Biography:

Christian Gueits Selfie

Christian Gueits is a zookeeper, college laboratory technician, and freelance audio editor from Staten Island, New York. He found Project Dragonfly through others in his field. After researching the program, he felt like it was the perfect fit. Now, he enjoys working through the courses while growing his career and constantly faces new and exciting adventures along the way. He hopes to create a lasting impact on others and the world through his work and education, and encourages others to strive to do the same.