The bird who rules Costa Rica, and the language of rain

It was still pitch black when I sat up in bed, thoroughly annoyed.
“What is that damned noise?” I asked my husband, on whom the incredible din outside our window seemed to have absolutely no effect.
“The national bird of Costa Rica,” he murmured, his pride waking up even before he did.
“The national what?”
In response, he uttered a sequence of vowels that were unintelligible to me at the time, but which I know in retrospect must have

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