I opened the door to let the moon light up our casita. There were about ten crabs, four inches across, walking sideways and skittering about the dirt floor of the hut. I sat back down on my sleeping bag and hugged my knees. A profound ache for our iron-framed bed in Fraser filled my eyes with tears. I was sunburned, tired, and sharing my bed with clawed animals, trapped inside this musty-smelling dirt-floored hut.