My name is Sam Anderson. I'm a staff writer for the New York Times magazine. Over the years, I've interviewed actors, artists, athletes. Recently, I've been spending time with animal people. Wait, what happens if I put my fingers in that bottom cage? He will probably bite you. Scientists, ferret breeders, a heavy metal band that rescues baby puffins. You got one. Everyone has a story.

When I was a kid, I had bats in the family bathroom.

She didn't hear my mom backing in for the a dry boy, and she got her pushed by my mom. Jessica, the rat, used to eat ice cream out of my mouth. Because thinking about animals seems to open up a little door. This is the baby. An escape hatch out of the human world. We got a little spirit. They're coming Are you going to have your blood or it's blood?

I think it's mine.

They're coming really close to my head. From the New York Times, this is Animal. Listen to it wherever you get podcasts.

Hey, it's Michael. Today, We have something really special for you, a blissful break from the news. It's a news series from NYT Audio called Animal. My colleague, Sam Anderson, from the Times magazine, traveled the world to have encounters with animals, not to claim them or to tame them, but just to appreciate them. Each episode is a journey to get closer to a creature that Sam loves. For the next six weeks, we'll be running this limited series every Sunday here on the Daily feed. But if you want to hear all the episodes right now, you can search for it wherever you get your podcasts. Today, our final episode, episode 6. Hope you enjoy it.

One of the very worst things I've ever read in my whole entire life is this poem by D. H. Lawrence. Here, I'll read it. Called Bat. At This evening, sitting on this terrace, he's in Florence. When the sun from the west beyond Pisa, 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. The swallows gave way to bats. But something about bats just breaks his brain. Bats. And an uneasy creeping in one scalp as the bats swoop overhead. This poem is 100% trash-talking. These creatures that disgust him. Bats. Creatures that hang themselves up like an old rag to sleep. The poem ends with the dumbest ending I've ever encountered in the work of a major writer. In China, the bat is symbol for happiness. Not for me, exclamation point. From the New York Times, this is Animal. I'm Sam Anderson. Episode 6, Bats. Bats, I hate them. I hate those things. I hate that. Oh, really? That's a dumb poem. I mean, for a little context. I'm reading this stupid poem in a rental car, hurtling forward into the jungles of Mexico.

There's a fear of having a bat stuck in your hair. And driving the car is my dear, wonderful friend, Alan, one of my favorite animals on Earth. This is like a thing. Like they squeak out. He's he's actually the one who introduced me to this bat poem in the first place. I hated it. Not for me. Alan and I met in our 20s when we were young and innocent and had beautiful fluffy hair. It is true. You and I have known each other for 22 years. 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. Let's go down to Yucatan. Now we are here on that trip in the Yucatan, one of the most epic places on Earth. It's madness. This is the place where the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs hit. That happened right near here. Where Maya civilization rose and fell. The mentality of Mayan culture is art.

All of it is art. Now it's this wild explosion of biodiversity. I mean, look, you're right, as you can see. It's like lizards, and toucans, and monkeys, and jaguars, and manatees. Manatees? You haven't seen, but 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. Bats. The bat. Because my attitude toward 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 here for the bat. It's a pretty uncomfortable place to be, and I do-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. Pushed her out of the way. Allegedly. 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 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. This is the first one that I will run away screaming from. Why are we going to see it? It's 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? Okay. Well, you find someone who knows the bats.

I'm good to meet you.

How are you? And that person is Rodrigo Medellín.

Sam, very good to meet you, guys. Okay, so- Alan and I, along with my colleague, Kaitlyn Roberts, meet up with Rodrigo and his bat team in the lobby of a very pink hotel in the tiny town of Xpujil. We just order something to eat.

Which is in one of the more jungly parts of the Yucatan Peninsula, down south, near the border with Guatemala.

The students that we have here, I have three students here. Ángel is starting.

Rodrigo is a professor of ecology at UNAM, the big university in Mexico City.

Javier, who is gathering his data for his thesis.

He and his students have been studying the bats in the Yucatan for years.

We're going to take them out. We're going to process them, which means measure, weigh, see the- In 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. They beat it and they destroyed it. He's agreed to let us tag along with him and his students while they do their bat work this week. We know more about this- And while we're all sitting around chatting, getting to know each other. Who's this on your lock screen of your phone? I noticed the photo on the lock screen of Rodrigo's phone.

This is the Spectrum, the biggest bat in the continent and the biggest carnivalent bat of the world. How big? What?

It's a body? And how wide its 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, vainy 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? 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.

Then he comes back, lands on top of the females, and he salts them.

Whether What they eat, where they live, how they mate.

Part of 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. Oh, my God.

I'm going to tell you a little bit.

Can 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 are terrified of bats. I really don't.

You've never screamed and run away from a bat? Me?

Absolutely not. Never, never, never, never.

Rodrigo isn't only a bat scientist. He is a bat evangelist.

I started my first bat came into my hands 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. He was actually a prodigy. Rodrigo knew so much about animals that he ended up on this famous primetime game show in Mexico called El Grand Premio de los 60 y 4000 pesos, the 64,000 peso Grand Prize. This little kid is on primetime TV answering every question they could throw at him about animals. 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 Medellín 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. Because they play them. But I want to process first and foremost the mother.He's so excited. He tells us this is a bat he's named Big Mama.She's probably Big Mama. Okay. She knows the drill.Rodrigo grabs one of the squiddling 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 wooly, false vampire bat.Big teeth, big ears, big eyes, and a big noseleaf.It's got fuzzy brown fur and this tall pig snout called a noseleaf.If they have this noseleaf, that means that they can carry the food 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 noseleaf so they can fly through the jungle without smashing into trees.If you look at the noseleaf 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 and measures its wingspan, and they punch out a little tissue sample from its wing, and Rodrigo puts it back in the bag. Then one by one, he pulls the other bats out of their bags. The whole time, they keep biting the crap out of him.Don't bite me. Don't bite me.He does not seem to mind at all. He just loves these bats so much. That's blood. Is that your blood or it's blood?I think it's mine.I'm standing at a distance, and I'm freaked out, but also fascinated.Then-so this is the baby?Out of one of the bags, Rodrigo pulls out a baby bat.He's a boy.Oh, my God. He's so cute. It's so freaking cute. It's fresh and fuzzy. Look at the milk. It has little pink feet.In the stomach.What? 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. Oh, wow. Big mama's baby. Seeing all this just unlocks my general feeling of love for all animals. These bats suddenly seem vulnerable and out of their element.Let's take them all and put them in the shade in the temple.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 mousetails, but it's their home. I'm curious now. I can almost maybe imagine going in there myself into the bats world to see the darkness with my own eyes. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe. My name is Sam Anderson. I'm a staff writer for the New York Times magazine. Recently, I've been spending time with animal people. Scientists, ferret breeders, a heavy metal band that rescues puffins. You got one. Everyone has a story. Jessica, the rat used to eat ice cream out of my mouth. Thinking about animals seems to open up a little door. This is the baby. Out of the human world. They're coming really close to my head. From the New York Times, This is Animal. Listen to it wherever you get podcasts. Did they miss the turn? No. Was that them?Sam, what's happening? We're on our way to visit another bat roost with Rodrigo at a temple called Ocalweets. Is there a fire out there? On the drive there, we see a small fire. A little bit of a fire. Where patches of the jungle are being cleared. There's tractors and white dust everywhere. They cleared a huge amount of trees. 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, 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. It's hard to understand from a But Rodrigo is worried about the impact of all this on the wildlife here, a Especially, of course, the bats. I do have that fear.Oh, oh.Javier doesn't know where he's going. We follow Rodrigo off the main road deep into the jungle, and then we hike.It's so hot right now.It's like a million and a half degrees. 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 Ogult. The reeds. As you can see, a whole wall of the temple is missing. But the bats love it here. It's shadowed, 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. Okay, I'm going into the bat temple with Alan. 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 them.Who's here? I don't know. Where are they now? They're dead and gone.See the ears?Do you think they're echolocating us?I know they're echolocating. Maybe. Oh, look, those two in the back on the left here, they're getting very, very close together. They're clinging each other.I think they love each other. We feel a mimal affection.They are attached to each other, and they depend on each other for their survival. Beyond that, I cannot tell you that they love each other.Yeah. Do you think I could stand in here while you catch the bats?Yeah.I can't believe I just asked to stay in here.We'll sit you there. Okay.Because the bats are calm right now. But once Rodrigo starts trying to catch them…Some of them may land on you.They will not be calm.You okay with that? Seriously?Seriously. Even though I've seen some cute bats now, I am still very afraid of them. Yeah, that's the test.Is that part of progress? Yeah. Can we call that progress?God, that would be incredible. But I think just being around Rodrigo and his love for bats, it has made me curious. That curiosity for this one moment just barely outweighed my fear.If they land on you, just don't move.Don't scream and run.Don't scream and run. No, no screaming. No, no, no, no, no. Get him off, get him off. No, nothing like that.Okay. Rodrigo sits It hits me down on this pile of rubble at the back of the chamber, and the students outside wrap 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 has 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 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, bat stuff. The bats are flying around like nightmare confetti. I'm scared. And I'm just sitting here frozen, trying to stay calm, dissociating 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. 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 for the weekend or something. He would take us on tours or exploring on our own. It was our special place outside of the normal world. 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. One of them flew so close to my face. I remembered seeing its teeth and the little pig nose. The funny 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 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. Can't shut the door without a tree in it. You want me to go move forward a bit. Oh, I'm jungle tired. I'm so tired. 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 Becket, who turned 16 while I was on this trip. I didn't think it would really bother me not to be there for his birthday, but now it really does. Big boy. Alan can relate because he found out this morning that his baby daughter, Maria, took her first steps. Maria took her first steps. Everything is just rushing forward without us. Both big milestones. I know. I felt a lot of love and distance at the same time. What are you going to do? You're boys all grown up. I don't know. I can't even imagine. I cannot imagine. It sounds devastating. I mean, and not joyous and wonderful, and they have their lives, and then they'll come back and you'll be like, you know. Yeah, there's all that.There's all that. Yeah, there's the part where it's an ending, and there's the part where it's just wonderful development. And if it went any different, that would be bad. But, yeah. I don't know. Then you die and then everyone forgets that you existed, and then your civilization is It's a big husk of ruins. Wait, you took it too far. What? I guess. I mean, I guess. I'm looking at those Mayan temples and I'm thinking, everything dies. Like the forest, things are dying all around us and animals are dying and you're going to die and both of our dads died and everyone is going to have a dead dad. 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 my individual dad, Peter Anderson, who died. I have to sit around thinking about that all the time because he was my individual dad. Do you think about it a lot? 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.That's curious. 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. 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. He's afraid of certain things. We are going there after the break. It's Robert. Robert is robbing you. Yeah. Are you not afraid of Robert? They don't think they can rob you. That's mean. 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. Thank you. 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. He was looking at a gaping maw in the center of the Earth. Yeah, we're looking into the throat of planet Earth.How far down does it go?Hard 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 a tourist attraction. Like 30 meters long, 6 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 is large. 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. I asked Rodrigo, Is the rain going to stop the bats from flying? He says, Absolutely nothing will stop these bats from flying. We stand there sopping wet, waiting. Oh, there we go. First thought. Finally, we see the tiniest little flitting in this giant bowl of the canyon. It's almost nothing, just a speck of motion.You can see them that they are avoiding- Then a couple more specs.And then a few more. They're thickening. It's thickening. It's like watching popcorn pop. Getting really close. There's one kernel and then two, and then all of a sudden, a million kernels.They're passing through you.But these are bats, just infinite bats coming out.This is another species that Different sizes, different species.Short and broad wings. But they're all moving together like this huge superorganism. Oh, my God. They're just really getting thicker 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? Uh-oh. You feel scared?It's absolutely not. It's extremely delicate and beautiful.It's really beautiful. I feel soothed 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. It's really cold. Yeah. 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 eyes. I don't know how many thousands or tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands of bats flew right by me that night within arm's 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 stand there and watch. And these millions of bat wings flapping. It sounded like rain, which reminded me of Oregon, where I'm from, where my dad lived. 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. 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.Beautiful. I'm so glad that we enjoyed it.So profound and beautiful. 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 Kaitlyn Roberts with help from Crystal Duhame and reported by me, Sam Anderson. It was edited by Wendy Dore. Our executive producers are Paula Schumann and Larissa Anderson. Engineering by Marion Lozano. Original music by Marion Lozano and Dan Powell. Fact-checking by Ena Alvarado. Special thanks to Jake Silverstein, Sasha Weiss, and Sam Dolnik. Also to Rodrigo Medellín and his wonderful students, Javier Torres-Cervantes, Monica Izquierdo-Suzanne, Ángel Uriel Torres-Alcántara, 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/animal. I'm Sam Anderson. Thanks for listening. Dh Lawrence also wrote a poem about mosquitoes.He did.Do you remember how that one goes? He doesn't say not for me. He likes mosquitoes better than bats. I think so.

them. But I want to process first and foremost the mother.

He's so excited. He tells us this is a bat he's named Big Mama.

She's probably Big Mama. Okay. She knows the drill.

Rodrigo grabs one of the squiddling 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 wooly, false vampire bat.

Big teeth, big ears, big eyes, and a big noseleaf.

It's got fuzzy brown fur and this tall pig snout called a noseleaf.

If they have this noseleaf, that means that they can carry the food 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 noseleaf so they can fly through the jungle without smashing into trees.

If you look at the noseleaf 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 and measures its wingspan, and they punch out a little tissue sample from its wing, and Rodrigo puts it back in the bag. Then one by one, he pulls the other bats out of their bags. The whole time, they keep biting the crap out of him.

Don't bite me. Don't bite me.

He does not seem to mind at all. He just loves these bats so much. That's blood. Is that your blood or it's blood?

I think it's mine.

I'm standing at a distance, and I'm freaked out, but also fascinated.

Then-so this is the baby?

Out of one of the bags, Rodrigo pulls out a baby bat.

He's a boy.

Oh, my God. He's so cute. It's so freaking cute. It's fresh and fuzzy. Look at the milk. It has little pink feet.

In the stomach.

What? 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. Oh, wow. Big mama's baby. Seeing all this just unlocks my general feeling of love for all animals. These bats suddenly seem vulnerable and out of their element.

Let's take them all and put them in the shade in the temple.

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 mousetails, but it's their home. I'm curious now. I can almost maybe imagine going in there myself into the bats world to see the darkness with my own eyes. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe. My name is Sam Anderson. I'm a staff writer for the New York Times magazine. Recently, I've been spending time with animal people. Scientists, ferret breeders, a heavy metal band that rescues puffins. You got one. Everyone has a story. Jessica, the rat used to eat ice cream out of my mouth. Thinking about animals seems to open up a little door. This is the baby. Out of the human world. They're coming really close to my head. From the New York Times, This is Animal. Listen to it wherever you get podcasts. Did they miss the turn? No. Was that them?

Sam, what's happening? We're on our way to visit another bat roost with Rodrigo at a temple called Ocalweets. Is there a fire out there? On the drive there, we see a small fire. A little bit of a fire. Where patches of the jungle are being cleared. There's tractors and white dust everywhere. They cleared a huge amount of trees. 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, 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. It's hard to understand from a But Rodrigo is worried about the impact of all this on the wildlife here, a Especially, of course, the bats. I do have that fear.

Oh, oh.

Javier doesn't know where he's going. We follow Rodrigo off the main road deep into the jungle, and then we hike.

It's so hot right now.

It's like a million and a half degrees. 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 Ogult. The reeds. As you can see, a whole wall of the temple is missing. But the bats love it here. It's shadowed, 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. Okay, I'm going into the bat temple with Alan. 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 them.

Who's here? I don't know. Where are they now? They're dead and gone.

See the ears?

Do you think they're echolocating us?

I know they're echolocating. Maybe. Oh, look, those two in the back on the left here, they're getting very, very close together. They're clinging each other.

I think they love each other. We feel a mimal affection.

They are attached to each other, and they depend on each other for their survival. Beyond that, I cannot tell you that they love each other.

Yeah. Do you think I could stand in here while you catch the bats?

Yeah.

I can't believe I just asked to stay in here.

We'll sit you there. Okay.

Because the bats are calm right now. But once Rodrigo starts trying to catch them…

Some of them may land on you.

They will not be calm.

You okay with that? Seriously?

Seriously. Even though I've seen some cute bats now, I am still very afraid of them. Yeah, that's the test.

Is that part of progress? Yeah. Can we call that progress?

God, that would be incredible. But I think just being around Rodrigo and his love for bats, it has made me curious. That curiosity for this one moment just barely outweighed my fear.

If they land on you, just don't move.

Don't scream and run.

Don't scream and run. No, no screaming. No, no, no, no, no. Get him off, get him off. No, nothing like that.

Okay. Rodrigo sits It hits me down on this pile of rubble at the back of the chamber, and the students outside wrap 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 has 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 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, bat stuff. The bats are flying around like nightmare confetti. I'm scared. And I'm just sitting here frozen, trying to stay calm, dissociating 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. 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 for the weekend or something. He would take us on tours or exploring on our own. It was our special place outside of the normal world. 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. One of them flew so close to my face. I remembered seeing its teeth and the little pig nose. The funny 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 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. Can't shut the door without a tree in it. You want me to go move forward a bit. Oh, I'm jungle tired. I'm so tired. 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 Becket, who turned 16 while I was on this trip. I didn't think it would really bother me not to be there for his birthday, but now it really does. Big boy. Alan can relate because he found out this morning that his baby daughter, Maria, took her first steps. Maria took her first steps. Everything is just rushing forward without us. Both big milestones. I know. I felt a lot of love and distance at the same time. What are you going to do? You're boys all grown up. I don't know. I can't even imagine. I cannot imagine. It sounds devastating. I mean, and not joyous and wonderful, and they have their lives, and then they'll come back and you'll be like, you know. Yeah, there's all that.

There's all that. Yeah, there's the part where it's an ending, and there's the part where it's just wonderful development. And if it went any different, that would be bad. But, yeah. I don't know. Then you die and then everyone forgets that you existed, and then your civilization is It's a big husk of ruins. Wait, you took it too far. What? I guess. I mean, I guess. I'm looking at those Mayan temples and I'm thinking, everything dies. Like the forest, things are dying all around us and animals are dying and you're going to die and both of our dads died and everyone is going to have a dead dad. 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 my individual dad, Peter Anderson, who died. I have to sit around thinking about that all the time because he was my individual dad. Do you think about it a lot? 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.

That's curious. 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. 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. He's afraid of certain things. We are going there after the break. It's Robert. Robert is robbing you. Yeah. Are you not afraid of Robert? They don't think they can rob you. That's mean. 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. Thank you. 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. He was looking at a gaping maw in the center of the Earth. Yeah, we're looking into the throat of planet Earth.

How far down does it go?

Hard 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 a tourist attraction. Like 30 meters long, 6 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 is large. 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. I asked Rodrigo, Is the rain going to stop the bats from flying? He says, Absolutely nothing will stop these bats from flying. We stand there sopping wet, waiting. Oh, there we go. First thought. Finally, we see the tiniest little flitting in this giant bowl of the canyon. It's almost nothing, just a speck of motion.

You can see them that they are avoiding- Then a couple more specs.

And then a few more. They're thickening. It's thickening. It's like watching popcorn pop. Getting really close. There's one kernel and then two, and then all of a sudden, a million kernels.

They're passing through you.

But these are bats, just infinite bats coming out.

This is another species that Different sizes, different species.

Short and broad wings. But they're all moving together like this huge superorganism. Oh, my God. They're just really getting thicker 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? Uh-oh. You feel scared?

It's absolutely not. It's extremely delicate and beautiful.

It's really beautiful. I feel soothed 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. It's really cold. Yeah. 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 eyes. I don't know how many thousands or tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands of bats flew right by me that night within arm's 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 stand there and watch. And these millions of bat wings flapping. It sounded like rain, which reminded me of Oregon, where I'm from, where my dad lived. 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. 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.

Beautiful. I'm so glad that we enjoyed it.

So profound and beautiful. 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 Kaitlyn Roberts with help from Crystal Duhame and reported by me, Sam Anderson. It was edited by Wendy Dore. Our executive producers are Paula Schumann and Larissa Anderson. Engineering by Marion Lozano. Original music by Marion Lozano and Dan Powell. Fact-checking by Ena Alvarado. Special thanks to Jake Silverstein, Sasha Weiss, and Sam Dolnik. Also to Rodrigo Medellín and his wonderful students, Javier Torres-Cervantes, Monica Izquierdo-Suzanne, Ángel Uriel Torres-Alcántara, 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/animal. I'm Sam Anderson. Thanks for listening. Dh Lawrence also wrote a poem about mosquitoes.

He did.

Do you remember how that one goes? He doesn't say not for me. He likes mosquitoes better than bats. I think so.