Last post here goes, I'm back in the USA after an incredible gap year but let me fill you in on my last experience:
Caterpillars, caterpillars, everywhere, but none enough to eat... Actually you probably wouldn't want to try, a lot for them are poisonous or have stinging hairs. At Yanayacu I spent my first couple of weeks learning how to collect and rear countless caterpillars from the area. There is a rearing station set up in the back of Yanayacu called "La Maquina" because it churns out a lot of adult moths and butterflies. Caterpillars are collected along the roads, in designated plots, and on the trails. We bring them along with their host plant food to La Maquina and each is bagged, ID-ed and photographed. I originally worked on the main rearing project but eventually began to focus on one plant genus: the Passiflora, or Passionfruits/flowers. This genus became the focus for my research project funded by the Ecological Society of America's SEEDS program over the summer.
Early on I had to get used to the Yanayacu routine, independently working and/or collaborating with the other scientists and staff. This was true both in the lab and in the kitchen, as everyone cooked for themselves. At first I was intimidated at not having much real cooking experience. I either mooched off of someone else's meal or prepared easy and meager things for myself, like grated carrot salad. Eventually, having some time to look up recipes on the station's wireless internet, I started delving into basic baking, using the ingredients found at the station as keywords. I found recipes for popcorn biscotti, cookies, pizza dough, cakes, even bread. Slowly but surely recipes began turning out better, I learned the moods of the oven, and I began spending more time in the kitchen. One of the staff at La Maquina nicknamed me "El Panadero". I got used to making bread dough the night before or early in the morning, then leaving the dough to rise under a cloth or in the oven for hours because the room temperature was so cold (it's surprisingly chilly up in the highlands!). Then one day I tried my hand at roasted vegetables, a real dish, not just baking but actually cooking this time. They turned out and I got over my self confidence problem in the kitchen.
One day one of the employees digging a trench for a sewer pipe hit what he recognized as a snake, and called everyone over to see. I came out to look and recognized the blueish wormy creature as a Caecilian, an amphibian I had really hoped to see in my time in the tropics! Unfortunately, Ivan had discovered the caecilian by accidentally chopping its head off with the shovel, but he had also uncovered a small burrow containing a mass of wriggling caecilian babies, literally looking like a ball of tangled earthworms. Apparently not much is known about these organisms in the wild, as I later was told. It was interesting to see the babies up close and to learn from Ivan that there had been another adult with the nest, one that escaped the shovel when Ivan uncovered the clutch. Parental care of offspring? The picture on the left is of an adult caecilian I found later in my time at Yanayacu.
The number of bugs one sees at Yanayacu is really astounding. This is true especially when the light trap is turned on at night to attract moths: the area is literally swarming with noise and movement with everything from gnats to beetles to katydids to giant Silk Moths. In the morning after the mayhem you can usually find insect corpses on the ground or watch the flycatchers swooping down from the rafters to pick off moths that have lingered around for too long.
I went out once accompanying Esther on her frog transects. Esther is a herpetologist from UC Davis who coincidentally happens to be the sister of a good friend back from school. Every night she ventures out on one of her marked paths, looking for and recording what frogs she finds to get a sense of population sizes. One needs a lot of focus and patience to sweep the transects efficiently, and I admire Esther for being so dedicated as to do that work every night! Once a frog was found she would clip its toes in a specific pattern to "mark" it in case she finds it in future, so as not to double-count it.
As I got used to Yanayacu and the surrounding mountain cloud forest, I began to notice more and more the diversity of life hidden under every leaf, up in the tree canopies, and growing green all around me. In wandering along the main road by the station I found a bunch of different species of Passiflora growing, with caterpillars feeding on them! Specifically I found a lot of 2 families of Lepidoptera, Nymphalidae (Heliconiine) and Notodontidae (Dipotinae). In rearing these guys I learned more about how caterpillars go from little grubs into butterflies and moths, knowledge that became very useful later on when working on my project for SEEDS. Here on the left is one of the Passionflowers I worked with at Yanayacu, in flower.
I made a lot of good friends at Yanayacu, I guess because everyone has similar interests there, but also because everyone shares a passion for the tropics :)
Two days before I was scheduled to leave the country and head back to the US, we took a trip to Tena, the capital city of the Napo Province in Ecuador. It was a going-away party beginning that night in the city and ending in a mini trip to a Hoatzin's nest that one of the ornithologist staff, Jose, wanted to see. Of course when we were in the middle of a remote village 45 minutes past Tena, in the blazing morning heat of the lowlands, the car wouldn't start. We were literally stranded with our broken-down pickup, without water. Jose and Drew (the station manager for the year) began breaking down the car, trying to identify the problem, while the rest of us pitched in where we were needed and took off with friendly locals to try and get tools and water. When night fell we had removed the entire backside of the pickup truck, checked the gas tank, gathered a crowd of loyal neighbors and eventually figured out the problem. We slept that night with a friend who worked at the Jatun Sacha reserve, and the next day walked back to the dismantled car then drove half of it up to Tena to put it back together. Although the situation was desperate at times, I learned so much about cars, I felt empowered at the fact that I could help out in this situation and I was proud that together our little crew was able to solve the problem: even without the right tools and methods we solved the puzzle in the end. I made it back to Yanayacu in time to prepare for my leave.
I got back to the USA in mid-May after an incredible time abroad. This time in my life has been a turning point for me. I feel I have matured, am more confident in myself and I am able to live independently in the world. There were rough times, uncomfortable situations, and bold challenges I had to surpass but in the end I pushed through and have come out all the better because of it. This experience has given me a motivation and context for my studies back in school. It has definitely been valuable in that it changed my perspective on life, that I am in charge of who I am, and that I always have a choice in whatever I choose to do. I look forward to returning to school now that I am more aware of the world and of what life is all about. Thanks for reading and sorry again for the delays in posting, I encourage everyone to take time to explore the unfamiliar when you get the chance. If you go at it with the right mindset I guarantee it will be an inspiring experience! Until the next adventure... :)
sábado, 16 de mayo de 2009
miércoles, 25 de marzo de 2009
The Rest Of Karukinka
Dear everybody!
Again, big apologies for the delay, I guess I am not destined to be a blogger.
After heading back "into the wild" of Tierra del Fuego since the last update, I started working full-time on the groundcover project. Every day we would rise in the morning, put the kettle on the kitchen stove for tea or coffee, and eat some home-made bread with jam. Then, after gathering our packs, we were off into the hills for 30-45 minutes following a semi-marked trail that would lead us to the castoreras (beaver dams). Each site required laying out 4 rectangular plots, parallel to the stream, 3 of 10m X 50m and one of 20m X 60m. These were done using a clinometer, PVC tubes to mark the corners, and measuring tape. Then, in each plot, 10 equally-spaced 1m X 1m squares were designated and we measured groundcover for every plant species in each. At first this took FOREVER. It was mostly an issue of recognizing and identifying the different plant species. Later on I got familiar with the plant names and was able to move more quickly through each site. We also had to measure all of the trees standing in the plots: diameter and height so as to later calculate the overall volume of trunk biomass.
They had satellite TV at the main house (but no internet...) so at night besides preparing dinner or working on field data we were updated with the local Chile news and occasionally with a report on Obama in the US. I got good at making Jalea (Jell-O) for after dinner :) Towards the end of my time at Karukinka I worked on compiling all of the plant species encountered in the field into a digital herbarium, just a personal project to help me remember everything I have learned and to give back to the station for housing me. I made a checklist of all of the plants I knew and then each day, as we worked, took advantage of the time to photograph those species. Then, new species were added as they were found. This project took a lot longer than I had expected but I succeeded in producing the Powerpoint in the end and handed the station a copy to keep for future research: hopefully some poor plant scientist will find it very useful!
One day I was woken by my roommate saying that there was a carpintero outside. I grabbed my camera and was able to find the bird, a Magellanic Woodpecker, in amongst the Lenga trees. I was lucky because the trees around the house are all relatively short, so the woodpeckers could not climb up to the point where they appeared as little red and black dots. I spent like 2 hours following the birds (turned out to be 3 of them, one juvenile and two adults) before breakfast. They were incredible, especially viewed from close-up, brightly colored. They kept making a "squawking" sound as they flew from tree to tree. Here is one of the photos taken. Definitely a highlight of my stay.
Another was going fishing in the late afternoons at one of the rivers that flows near the house. I only caught one fish (a salmon) the right size to eat, but with it we made fresh ceviche! I went out other times too but without much luck. Still, for me it was more the chance to be outside in Patagonia that was attractive. Walking through the grassland I would often encounter some new lichen or moss to photograph, and often these little long-billed birds called snipes that scurried and flew off when I got too close. There were curious Guanacos that would pace towards me to see what I was doing by the river. As long as I did not make any sudden movements, they remained calm.
We got a visit from the Wildlife Conservation Society (that run Karukinka) staff back in Punta Arenas and Santiago. They came down to do some trekking and exploring possible new routes in the park. They were pretty friendly and eventually invited me to go with them on one of their trips, to an "unexplored" valley connecting a huge lake (Lago Fagnano) with the ocean. I packed up a bag and we set off early the next day. The lake and river that runs from it are a shocking turquoise color, and crystal clear. From where we found an abandoned horse trail close to a ridge we could see out into the distance, where the ocean was. Didn't look too far away, but it took us nearly 5 hours just to get to our campsite. After that it was another 3 hours of bushwhacking till we made it to la Caleta María. Along the way the views were spectacular. There was another kind of tree growing in this area, a more humid place, called Coigüe, related to Lenga and Ñirre found at the main station. And we got some time to fish for trout as well, which we then ate the following morning before the trek back. It was a good "break" from the routine work I had been doing.
The end felt like it came very soon (surprisingly, the days went by very fast!), but I looked forward to getting back in touch with the world. I rode down with some of the staff and got to see the toninas again in the water at the crossing of the Strait of Magellan. I also got some photos of flamingoes in dried up lakes along the side of the road. Never seen so many in my life, and in the wild at that. Finally, before arriving in Punta Arenas, we saw some Ñandús on the side of the road and got to stop to see the close. There was an adult and 3 large chicks, browsing in the grass. Such strange-looking creatures–really reminded me of dinosaurs.
So the return was pretty eventful. I stayed a few days in Punta Arenas, figuring out flight logistics and plans for the remainder of my time in South America and meeting people at the hostal I stayed at. Then, almost directly from Punta Arenas (with a stop in Santiago, but all within a day at least) I flew to Quito, Ecuador. I got set up with my old hostal and then grabbed an opportunity to visit a cloudforest eco-lodge with volunteers for 3 days, before heading to my next planned activity. This place was called Santa Lucía; it is a lodge completely run by a community, that is, no middle man or foreign entity tugging the strings. And it was incredible. After a strenuous hike through the forest, uphill, I arrived at the lodge and met the volunteers. Santa Lucía is famous for birding, and in particular for people wanting to witness the Cock-of-the-Rock, a brightly-colored Cotinga (related to the Long-Wattled Umbrella Bird from Bilsa!). There is a known lek down one of the Santa Lucía trails, and one morning I got to go see the mating rituals of the male birds.
Unfortunately, it was overcast and rainy almost the entire time I was there, preventing me from going out on the trails a lot. But the rain did have its merits... GIANT EARTHWORMS. I've never seen anything like them, they look like snakes, they're so big.
I am currently at Yanayacu Research Station in the Napo Province of Ecuador. I'm working as a volunteer or assistant to a project tracking caterpillar and parasitoid diversity in this region. It's a huge project, spanning many years of collecting and rearing caterpillars. I help collect in the field and then bag and feed the caterpillars. The reason for this work is that I am getting experience to eventually work on a fellowship research project, funded by SEEDS at the Ecological Society of America (http://www.esa.org/seeds/). I'm excited to start doing my own field work, but so far assisting the caterpillar and parasitoid project has been pretty great.
Again, big apologies for the delay, I guess I am not destined to be a blogger.
After heading back "into the wild" of Tierra del Fuego since the last update, I started working full-time on the groundcover project. Every day we would rise in the morning, put the kettle on the kitchen stove for tea or coffee, and eat some home-made bread with jam. Then, after gathering our packs, we were off into the hills for 30-45 minutes following a semi-marked trail that would lead us to the castoreras (beaver dams). Each site required laying out 4 rectangular plots, parallel to the stream, 3 of 10m X 50m and one of 20m X 60m. These were done using a clinometer, PVC tubes to mark the corners, and measuring tape. Then, in each plot, 10 equally-spaced 1m X 1m squares were designated and we measured groundcover for every plant species in each. At first this took FOREVER. It was mostly an issue of recognizing and identifying the different plant species. Later on I got familiar with the plant names and was able to move more quickly through each site. We also had to measure all of the trees standing in the plots: diameter and height so as to later calculate the overall volume of trunk biomass.
They had satellite TV at the main house (but no internet...) so at night besides preparing dinner or working on field data we were updated with the local Chile news and occasionally with a report on Obama in the US. I got good at making Jalea (Jell-O) for after dinner :) Towards the end of my time at Karukinka I worked on compiling all of the plant species encountered in the field into a digital herbarium, just a personal project to help me remember everything I have learned and to give back to the station for housing me. I made a checklist of all of the plants I knew and then each day, as we worked, took advantage of the time to photograph those species. Then, new species were added as they were found. This project took a lot longer than I had expected but I succeeded in producing the Powerpoint in the end and handed the station a copy to keep for future research: hopefully some poor plant scientist will find it very useful!
One day I was woken by my roommate saying that there was a carpintero outside. I grabbed my camera and was able to find the bird, a Magellanic Woodpecker, in amongst the Lenga trees. I was lucky because the trees around the house are all relatively short, so the woodpeckers could not climb up to the point where they appeared as little red and black dots. I spent like 2 hours following the birds (turned out to be 3 of them, one juvenile and two adults) before breakfast. They were incredible, especially viewed from close-up, brightly colored. They kept making a "squawking" sound as they flew from tree to tree. Here is one of the photos taken. Definitely a highlight of my stay.
Another was going fishing in the late afternoons at one of the rivers that flows near the house. I only caught one fish (a salmon) the right size to eat, but with it we made fresh ceviche! I went out other times too but without much luck. Still, for me it was more the chance to be outside in Patagonia that was attractive. Walking through the grassland I would often encounter some new lichen or moss to photograph, and often these little long-billed birds called snipes that scurried and flew off when I got too close. There were curious Guanacos that would pace towards me to see what I was doing by the river. As long as I did not make any sudden movements, they remained calm.
We got a visit from the Wildlife Conservation Society (that run Karukinka) staff back in Punta Arenas and Santiago. They came down to do some trekking and exploring possible new routes in the park. They were pretty friendly and eventually invited me to go with them on one of their trips, to an "unexplored" valley connecting a huge lake (Lago Fagnano) with the ocean. I packed up a bag and we set off early the next day. The lake and river that runs from it are a shocking turquoise color, and crystal clear. From where we found an abandoned horse trail close to a ridge we could see out into the distance, where the ocean was. Didn't look too far away, but it took us nearly 5 hours just to get to our campsite. After that it was another 3 hours of bushwhacking till we made it to la Caleta María. Along the way the views were spectacular. There was another kind of tree growing in this area, a more humid place, called Coigüe, related to Lenga and Ñirre found at the main station. And we got some time to fish for trout as well, which we then ate the following morning before the trek back. It was a good "break" from the routine work I had been doing.
The end felt like it came very soon (surprisingly, the days went by very fast!), but I looked forward to getting back in touch with the world. I rode down with some of the staff and got to see the toninas again in the water at the crossing of the Strait of Magellan. I also got some photos of flamingoes in dried up lakes along the side of the road. Never seen so many in my life, and in the wild at that. Finally, before arriving in Punta Arenas, we saw some Ñandús on the side of the road and got to stop to see the close. There was an adult and 3 large chicks, browsing in the grass. Such strange-looking creatures–really reminded me of dinosaurs.
So the return was pretty eventful. I stayed a few days in Punta Arenas, figuring out flight logistics and plans for the remainder of my time in South America and meeting people at the hostal I stayed at. Then, almost directly from Punta Arenas (with a stop in Santiago, but all within a day at least) I flew to Quito, Ecuador. I got set up with my old hostal and then grabbed an opportunity to visit a cloudforest eco-lodge with volunteers for 3 days, before heading to my next planned activity. This place was called Santa Lucía; it is a lodge completely run by a community, that is, no middle man or foreign entity tugging the strings. And it was incredible. After a strenuous hike through the forest, uphill, I arrived at the lodge and met the volunteers. Santa Lucía is famous for birding, and in particular for people wanting to witness the Cock-of-the-Rock, a brightly-colored Cotinga (related to the Long-Wattled Umbrella Bird from Bilsa!). There is a known lek down one of the Santa Lucía trails, and one morning I got to go see the mating rituals of the male birds.
Unfortunately, it was overcast and rainy almost the entire time I was there, preventing me from going out on the trails a lot. But the rain did have its merits... GIANT EARTHWORMS. I've never seen anything like them, they look like snakes, they're so big.
I am currently at Yanayacu Research Station in the Napo Province of Ecuador. I'm working as a volunteer or assistant to a project tracking caterpillar and parasitoid diversity in this region. It's a huge project, spanning many years of collecting and rearing caterpillars. I help collect in the field and then bag and feed the caterpillars. The reason for this work is that I am getting experience to eventually work on a fellowship research project, funded by SEEDS at the Ecological Society of America (http://www.esa.org/seeds/). I'm excited to start doing my own field work, but so far assisting the caterpillar and parasitoid project has been pretty great.
viernes, 30 de enero de 2009
Karukinka So Far
I've been working at a national preserve for the last couple of weeks, Karukinka, here in the south of Chile. I've come back to Punta Arenas (the city) for the weekend to get back in touch with the world. I head back out on Tuesday until March. Karukinka is incredible! It's located on the Isla Grande Tierra del Fuego, the island that forms the very southern tip of South America. The terrain is mostly grassland, stretching endlessly in all directions, but at some parts you get peat bogs, mountains and woods of Lenga trees. The weirdest part is how the grassland suddenly turns to forest; you can literally see a line separating the two environments. There is all kinds of wildlife too, TONS of guanacos, foxes, condors, magellanic woodpeckers, introduced beavers, birds... And the climate is really strange, it changes every minute, from rainy to suddenly sunny (producing rainbows), windy to EXTREME blow-you-over windy, really cold to lukewarm, etc. They say in this region that you can live all 4 seasons in one day.
I'm immersed in Chilean Spanish constantly since that's all everyone speaks. It's been a little tough at first making the switch back from English so abruptly, but I think now I'm sort of getting the hang of it. I've been helping out with a Guanaco census that takes place every year, monitoring populations in different habitats. We drive a pick-up truck along a given transect road, and stand up in the back to scout for Guanacos. It gets really cold sometimes because of the wind and rain so we have to wear lots of layers while working. Now I'm helping out with a project measuring plant groundcover near beaver dams to see how plants are being affected by the change in water level. Sort of tedious and less interesting work, but still. We get back in the late afternoon, around 6 or so. It stays light out until 10 though, so we don't immediately go to bed.
The beavers are really bad here, they were introduced to the south in Argentina and have spread quickly. Their damming poses a threat to the Lenga trees as they are slow growing and not very tolerant to changes in soil humidity (caused by beaver flooding). Just walking through the woods one often comes upon a huge open area filled with bleached white tree trunks, a dammed stream, and lots of debris. Amazing how such a little critter can be such an ecological disaster down here. They are going to be starting an eradication program soon, and one of the Guardaparques told us we would be eating beaver in the next month.
lunes, 12 de enero de 2009
Todo lo Demás...
A lot has happened since I last left an entry. I would have done a better job but Blogger failed me and because of a login issue I could not access the site. I will try to summarize what has happened since Galapagos in this update. As many of you know, I leave for Karukinka in a few days and I will be away from any internet connection until late February, so this is probably the last entry for a while. Here goes...
My time on the Galapagos was unforgettable. The friends and good memories I made will stay with me always. I feel like I am pretty familiar with the Islands' flora and fauna now after having spent so much time living in and studying the environment. I would surely like to go back sometime, at least to San Cristobal Island, now that I feel comfortable running around on my own. I left a few days after my birthday, where I turned 21! At first I was sad that I wouldn't be able to spend the day with my family and friends back in the US, but it turned out to be one of the best birthdays so far. And anyways, how many people can say they spent their 21st birthday on the Galapagos!? I was lucky to have made such good friends at the station that made my experience cheerful all the while.
I arrived in Quito in the afternoon and checked into a recommended hostel. A friend from San Cristobal who had left weeks earlier had a room for me there and we had planned to meet up and travel together to the next station I was going to, Bilsa. The next few days were spent running around, worrying about my VISA expiring and gathering extra gear for Bilsa's mountainous cloud forest environment.
The day after Halloween, Saturday, we took the afternoon bus to Esmeraldas province, on the northwest side of Ecuador. We stopped at a city called Quinindé and spent the night at a hotel. The next day we found the truck that would take us to La Yé de la Laguna, the nearest town to Bilsa. We hauled onto the truck first our bags and then ourselves and became more and more crammed as people arrived for the same trip. It was crazy, by the time we departed we only had our standing space to ourselves. Others had brought jugs and boxes and even a dog as their luggage so the ride was quite uncomfortable and I was sore from having stayed in the same uncomfortable position the whole time. Finally, after an hour or two and a cross to a dirt road, we made it to la Yé. It was not my idea of a traditional town, really. It is basically a town square, with shops and some dwellings piled along the sides, all mud everywhere. There were trucks coming and going, mules tied to posts, and a little chaos amongst the relaxed atmosphere. People sitting around sort of stared at us as we arrived, seeing as the incoming vehicles offered something new to the lazy town.
We met some of the staff from Bilsa and after lunch and loading up the mules with our packs, we set off down the muddy road. It took us about 5 hours to get to Bilsa from la Yé, on the way passing other small communities and La Yecita right before the station. The road was muddy but not as bad as when it rained hard. We took our time walking, stopping to photograph insects and watch birds. Finally we made it, just me and Brian (friend from Galapagos). We were the only volunteers there for a entire week.
We met the 4 staff members then at the station, unpacked our bags and took a quick look around. Bilsa is literally submerged in dense foggy clouds, especially in the mornings, and the high humidity allows for the incredible biodiversity found in the zone. There was no electricity because the generator was being repaired, and even when it was around they only used it a few hours after dark.
Over the weeks more and more volunteers arrived, and left, like at San Cristobal. However, unlike Galapagos, there was just so much more to see in terms of flora and fauna. Every hike through the many trails in Bilsa's terrain brought new findings. There were colorfully patterned insects everywhere, lizards, frogs, snakes, birds, and though I didn't get to see many personally, the occasional mammal. At night sometimes we would go out on frog hunts. Wearing our thick rubber boots and bearing our flashlights we would wade through the streams, using them as trails from which to spotlight frogs, snakes and lots of insects. The forest became alive at night with many different sounds, and a lot of creatures came out of hiding to do their mating calls or hunt their prey.
The work at Bilsa was more diverse than at San Cristobal. Work days varied from fixing a broken wire fence one day to trekking 2 hours down the marshy muddy main road to a reforestation site, where we would spend the day planting seedlings and then hike back in the afternoon. Occasionally we would haul up bananas from the lower down plantation, a dirty and strenuous ordeal. But then we would have bananas available all day to us, hanging from a beam for us to pick and peel as we pleased!
On some nights we would head out to the bar at La Yecita, the small community on the way up to Bilsa, only a 10 minute walk from the station. There we played pool or chatted and listened to music before heading back for bed.
At lunch once, one of the other volunteers brought me back a huge dead grasshopper, with all of these strange protuberances around it sides. I only realized what it was when I got to see it up close: cordyceps fungi. This is a fungus that attacks specific insect hosts, killing them and using the body to manifest its fruiting form. the protuberances I saw were mushrooms, each containing thousands of spores that might someday infect another insect.
In the mornings, especially during my first week, I would wake up to a terrifying roar, really close by to the main house. The howler monkey troops tended to be common around the station and often spent the night in the nearby trees. I came to get used to the sound after a couple of weeks, but it was always fun hearing the newcomers tell of waking up to the scary sounds. There was a tower on the main house too, and if it wasn't too foggy out you could spot the dark figures of the monkeys moving slowly through the foliage. Then there were also the Long-Wattled Umbrella Birds. Bilsa is fairly famous for its birds and in particular this endangered native. Large and completely black, they produce haunting and resonant cooing sounds early in the morning, in conjunction with the roar of the howlers.
A group of scientists came to continue an ongoing study of the Umbrella Birds and other tropical bird species as well. Their leader was a guy from UCLA (!) and then there were students from Quito and other assistants from Ecuador. One of the students was working on his thesis, doing a study on Green Manakins (small green birds famous for the rattling noise they make with their wings when displaying). Another one was doing a long-term project on bird diversity at the station. They worked in conjunction, capturing birds to band them and taking different measurements of each individual. I got to work with these guys for the majority of the time they were at Bilsa, a good week at least. We would go out early in the morning and set up mist nets (really fine black mesh nets that the birds would get tangled in) along a specific trail, then collect whatever flew into them at regular intervals. We got loads of hummingbirds, some so tiny I was afraid they would be crushed when held to do measurements. Occasionally we would get scarab beetles caught in the nets too, really colorful green and red ones. With the birds, I was in charge of writing down the data onto the little handheld computer they had, so by the end I was pretty good at recognizing the bird species and knowing which measurements were being made. When we caught a Green Manakin we would take a blood sample as well as the routine process. This part of Bilsa, working with the ornithologists, was probably my favorite job, and I made good friends with the student researchers.
While one group worked on the smaller species, the head researcher was focused on the Umbrella Birds. Over the years of studying this species at Bilsa, the team had found a bunch of leks, basically mating grounds, where the birds would congregate. They were doing an experiment with palm trees, to see if the Umbrella Birds played an important role in palm seed dispersal because there seemed to be more palms than usual at the bird's leks. I got to go out with the team to a nearby lek when they were trying to capture a bird for professional photographs. We left at 4:30 a.m. with our flashlights and the camera equipment, arriving at the spot just before dawn. We stood around in silence, listening to the soft forest sounds until the howlers started in the distance. Then quite soon after we heard the hooting of male Umbrella Birds. One after the other, with increasing frequency, all around us—it was so surreal. As the team focused on getting their pictures and capturing one in the mist nets, I tried to spot the birds. I saw back shapes darting from one branch to another every once in a while. The males beat their wings against their body repeatedly as part of their display, creating a muffled rapping sound. Much later on, after visiting the lek without the researchers, I got to see the displays close up. The male's long wattles puff up as they emit their hooting noise, and then they swing it back and forth in a circle. The birds hop and face the other way on the branch they're on. Really impressive and magical when seen from up close. I was maybe 4-5 meters away from one in a nearby tree once. But the fog and low light in the morning prevented any pictures from coming out well, so I just have a lot of silhouettes. Still, it's good enough for me, and it would have been hard to capture the moment in a photo anyways.
Towards the end of my time at Bilsa we got another scientist. She was doing a study on dung beetles, like the scarabs that we sometimes caught in the mist nets before, and this would be the last survey for her project. I got to help her out, doing the dirty work of assembling the dung traps (we didn't use animal dung...) and then putting them out in the forest in specified locations. After a day or two we went out and collected what had fallen into the little containers. There were a lot of beetles, but most of the were just little black and brown ones, not the colorful flashy ones I had seen with the ornithologists. Still it was a good experience, and now I know how to set up my own traps for future reference.
What was cool about Bilsa, like Galapagos, was that by the end I could recognize a lot of plants and animals. At Bilsa I guess it was harder because there was just so much stuff, but I could at least get the major plant families right—one step in the right direction.
I left Bilsa after 5 weeks and by then the main road had been flattened, so a truck was able to come pick us up to go back to La Yé. Apparently this only happens during the dry season and only for about a week max. because then it starts raining again and the road becomes 'undrivable'. I scheduled my leave with a friend from there so that I could have some company, and in one tiring day mad it back all the way to Quito.
My time on the Galapagos was unforgettable. The friends and good memories I made will stay with me always. I feel like I am pretty familiar with the Islands' flora and fauna now after having spent so much time living in and studying the environment. I would surely like to go back sometime, at least to San Cristobal Island, now that I feel comfortable running around on my own. I left a few days after my birthday, where I turned 21! At first I was sad that I wouldn't be able to spend the day with my family and friends back in the US, but it turned out to be one of the best birthdays so far. And anyways, how many people can say they spent their 21st birthday on the Galapagos!? I was lucky to have made such good friends at the station that made my experience cheerful all the while.
I arrived in Quito in the afternoon and checked into a recommended hostel. A friend from San Cristobal who had left weeks earlier had a room for me there and we had planned to meet up and travel together to the next station I was going to, Bilsa. The next few days were spent running around, worrying about my VISA expiring and gathering extra gear for Bilsa's mountainous cloud forest environment.
The day after Halloween, Saturday, we took the afternoon bus to Esmeraldas province, on the northwest side of Ecuador. We stopped at a city called Quinindé and spent the night at a hotel. The next day we found the truck that would take us to La Yé de la Laguna, the nearest town to Bilsa. We hauled onto the truck first our bags and then ourselves and became more and more crammed as people arrived for the same trip. It was crazy, by the time we departed we only had our standing space to ourselves. Others had brought jugs and boxes and even a dog as their luggage so the ride was quite uncomfortable and I was sore from having stayed in the same uncomfortable position the whole time. Finally, after an hour or two and a cross to a dirt road, we made it to la Yé. It was not my idea of a traditional town, really. It is basically a town square, with shops and some dwellings piled along the sides, all mud everywhere. There were trucks coming and going, mules tied to posts, and a little chaos amongst the relaxed atmosphere. People sitting around sort of stared at us as we arrived, seeing as the incoming vehicles offered something new to the lazy town.
We met some of the staff from Bilsa and after lunch and loading up the mules with our packs, we set off down the muddy road. It took us about 5 hours to get to Bilsa from la Yé, on the way passing other small communities and La Yecita right before the station. The road was muddy but not as bad as when it rained hard. We took our time walking, stopping to photograph insects and watch birds. Finally we made it, just me and Brian (friend from Galapagos). We were the only volunteers there for a entire week.
We met the 4 staff members then at the station, unpacked our bags and took a quick look around. Bilsa is literally submerged in dense foggy clouds, especially in the mornings, and the high humidity allows for the incredible biodiversity found in the zone. There was no electricity because the generator was being repaired, and even when it was around they only used it a few hours after dark.
Over the weeks more and more volunteers arrived, and left, like at San Cristobal. However, unlike Galapagos, there was just so much more to see in terms of flora and fauna. Every hike through the many trails in Bilsa's terrain brought new findings. There were colorfully patterned insects everywhere, lizards, frogs, snakes, birds, and though I didn't get to see many personally, the occasional mammal. At night sometimes we would go out on frog hunts. Wearing our thick rubber boots and bearing our flashlights we would wade through the streams, using them as trails from which to spotlight frogs, snakes and lots of insects. The forest became alive at night with many different sounds, and a lot of creatures came out of hiding to do their mating calls or hunt their prey.
The work at Bilsa was more diverse than at San Cristobal. Work days varied from fixing a broken wire fence one day to trekking 2 hours down the marshy muddy main road to a reforestation site, where we would spend the day planting seedlings and then hike back in the afternoon. Occasionally we would haul up bananas from the lower down plantation, a dirty and strenuous ordeal. But then we would have bananas available all day to us, hanging from a beam for us to pick and peel as we pleased!
On some nights we would head out to the bar at La Yecita, the small community on the way up to Bilsa, only a 10 minute walk from the station. There we played pool or chatted and listened to music before heading back for bed.
At lunch once, one of the other volunteers brought me back a huge dead grasshopper, with all of these strange protuberances around it sides. I only realized what it was when I got to see it up close: cordyceps fungi. This is a fungus that attacks specific insect hosts, killing them and using the body to manifest its fruiting form. the protuberances I saw were mushrooms, each containing thousands of spores that might someday infect another insect.
In the mornings, especially during my first week, I would wake up to a terrifying roar, really close by to the main house. The howler monkey troops tended to be common around the station and often spent the night in the nearby trees. I came to get used to the sound after a couple of weeks, but it was always fun hearing the newcomers tell of waking up to the scary sounds. There was a tower on the main house too, and if it wasn't too foggy out you could spot the dark figures of the monkeys moving slowly through the foliage. Then there were also the Long-Wattled Umbrella Birds. Bilsa is fairly famous for its birds and in particular this endangered native. Large and completely black, they produce haunting and resonant cooing sounds early in the morning, in conjunction with the roar of the howlers.
A group of scientists came to continue an ongoing study of the Umbrella Birds and other tropical bird species as well. Their leader was a guy from UCLA (!) and then there were students from Quito and other assistants from Ecuador. One of the students was working on his thesis, doing a study on Green Manakins (small green birds famous for the rattling noise they make with their wings when displaying). Another one was doing a long-term project on bird diversity at the station. They worked in conjunction, capturing birds to band them and taking different measurements of each individual. I got to work with these guys for the majority of the time they were at Bilsa, a good week at least. We would go out early in the morning and set up mist nets (really fine black mesh nets that the birds would get tangled in) along a specific trail, then collect whatever flew into them at regular intervals. We got loads of hummingbirds, some so tiny I was afraid they would be crushed when held to do measurements. Occasionally we would get scarab beetles caught in the nets too, really colorful green and red ones. With the birds, I was in charge of writing down the data onto the little handheld computer they had, so by the end I was pretty good at recognizing the bird species and knowing which measurements were being made. When we caught a Green Manakin we would take a blood sample as well as the routine process. This part of Bilsa, working with the ornithologists, was probably my favorite job, and I made good friends with the student researchers.
While one group worked on the smaller species, the head researcher was focused on the Umbrella Birds. Over the years of studying this species at Bilsa, the team had found a bunch of leks, basically mating grounds, where the birds would congregate. They were doing an experiment with palm trees, to see if the Umbrella Birds played an important role in palm seed dispersal because there seemed to be more palms than usual at the bird's leks. I got to go out with the team to a nearby lek when they were trying to capture a bird for professional photographs. We left at 4:30 a.m. with our flashlights and the camera equipment, arriving at the spot just before dawn. We stood around in silence, listening to the soft forest sounds until the howlers started in the distance. Then quite soon after we heard the hooting of male Umbrella Birds. One after the other, with increasing frequency, all around us—it was so surreal. As the team focused on getting their pictures and capturing one in the mist nets, I tried to spot the birds. I saw back shapes darting from one branch to another every once in a while. The males beat their wings against their body repeatedly as part of their display, creating a muffled rapping sound. Much later on, after visiting the lek without the researchers, I got to see the displays close up. The male's long wattles puff up as they emit their hooting noise, and then they swing it back and forth in a circle. The birds hop and face the other way on the branch they're on. Really impressive and magical when seen from up close. I was maybe 4-5 meters away from one in a nearby tree once. But the fog and low light in the morning prevented any pictures from coming out well, so I just have a lot of silhouettes. Still, it's good enough for me, and it would have been hard to capture the moment in a photo anyways.
Towards the end of my time at Bilsa we got another scientist. She was doing a study on dung beetles, like the scarabs that we sometimes caught in the mist nets before, and this would be the last survey for her project. I got to help her out, doing the dirty work of assembling the dung traps (we didn't use animal dung...) and then putting them out in the forest in specified locations. After a day or two we went out and collected what had fallen into the little containers. There were a lot of beetles, but most of the were just little black and brown ones, not the colorful flashy ones I had seen with the ornithologists. Still it was a good experience, and now I know how to set up my own traps for future reference.
What was cool about Bilsa, like Galapagos, was that by the end I could recognize a lot of plants and animals. At Bilsa I guess it was harder because there was just so much stuff, but I could at least get the major plant families right—one step in the right direction.
I left Bilsa after 5 weeks and by then the main road had been flattened, so a truck was able to come pick us up to go back to La Yé. Apparently this only happens during the dry season and only for about a week max. because then it starts raining again and the road becomes 'undrivable'. I scheduled my leave with a friend from there so that I could have some company, and in one tiring day mad it back all the way to Quito.
domingo, 5 de octubre de 2008
San Cristobal, Galapagos
I got to San Cristobal last month and managed to find my way to the remote station up in the island's highlands. It's amazing here, like a tropical jungle in the interior and then a dry sunny beach by the coasts. The place I work in is rustic, with lots of insects and HUGE spiders, but the atmosphere is relaxed and the hard work is well worth the effort. The majority of my time is spent macheteing invasive blackberry bushes and other nasty intruders around the station. There are fruit trees everywhere growing wild: bananas, papayas, oranges, mandarin, lemons, passionfruit, guava, etc., and all are introduced. So technically they're weeds we have to get rid of, but instead of chopping them down we just drink a lot of fruit juice for breakfast. Tuesday and Thursday nights are bar night, and the whole lot of us walk down the muddy road to a neighbor's "finca" where we play cards and have a drink. The way the volunteer system is set up here there are always people leaving and coming in. The fast and frequent changes takes a little getting used to.
I've made some really good friends here so far! The station gives us the weekends off and we travel down into the port town, a 45 minute drive to the coast. I have had an incredible snorkeling experience here, an opportunity I had not expected at all when first applying to Jatun Sacha. Yesterday I went on a snorkeling trip through a diving organization that works with Jatun Sacha to get affordable trips for the volunteers, and on the way to the site we saw whales! At first there was a Humpback in the distance—exciting enough, so I thought—but then a few minutes later we came across a family of Orcas! Apparently it is really rare to see Orcas in this area. We lucked out an even got one that came spectacularly close to our boat! I had the opportunity to travel to one snorkeling/diving site called 'Leon Dormido' ('Kicker Rock' in English), consisting of 2 massive rock formations jutting out from deep ocean, where sharks and rays like to roam. At first I was a bit nervous getting in the water, seeing as I have never been in endlessly deep blue with sharks in my immediate vicinity, but after 5 minutes I felt really relaxed. It was awesome. I got to see so many sea turtles under the water.
Everything in Ecuador is cheap compared to the US. I can easily get a full meal for $3 around here, and that's considering that the Galapagos Islands are more expensive than the Ecuadorian mainland because everything has to be imported. Works really well for me: I get to experience a lot and not spend my entire earnings at the first station.
I get to see a lot of wildlife here, including cool Galapagos endemics like the Giant Tortoises and Darwin Finches. There are also lots of sea birds like the Frigates and Blue-Footed Boobies. Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself of how lucky I am to see these things, because everything feels like it's going by so fast. I remember reading about how Darwin figured out the theory of evolution through natural selection from studying the finches on the Galapagos. Now I am here observing the birds as well. And since these animals have not been exposed to humans for that long, in relative terms, you can get really close to them without bothering them (I've got some awesome camera shots).
So far things are great. There have been the bad times of course, getting sick, having an entire week of rain and the proliferation of mosquito-like insects called "Carmelitos" that cover your exposed skin in rashes, losing my things, etc. But that's all part of the experience, in my view, and I am learning a lot about reforestation techniques and the Galapagos Islands in general, so it all pays off. I am looking forward to my next few weeks here.
Gap Year Itinerary
My Gap Year itinerary is as follows:
1. Fundación Jatun Sacha, Estación Isla San Cristobal, Galapagos, Ecuador. 6 weeks working on native vegetation reforestation, invasive species eradication and local community education. (where I am currently)
2. Fundación Jatun Sacha, Estación Bilsa, Ecuador. 6 weeks volunteering in tropical research projects.
3. Karukinka, Patagonia, Chile. 2 month internship in native Chilean forest preserve, assisting scientific environmental research and other work.
4. Yanayacu, Ecuador. 3 month position working in the field, collecting and tracking developments in caterpillar biodiversity.
1. Fundación Jatun Sacha, Estación Isla San Cristobal, Galapagos, Ecuador. 6 weeks working on native vegetation reforestation, invasive species eradication and local community education. (where I am currently)
2. Fundación Jatun Sacha, Estación Bilsa, Ecuador. 6 weeks volunteering in tropical research projects.
3. Karukinka, Patagonia, Chile. 2 month internship in native Chilean forest preserve, assisting scientific environmental research and other work.
4. Yanayacu, Ecuador. 3 month position working in the field, collecting and tracking developments in caterpillar biodiversity.
Welcome
Hey everyone,
I'm not very good at keeping in touch, so hopefully this blog will help me out somewhat. Read on as you please and feel free to send me any feedback, questions or comments about anything at my email mattlanas@gmail.com
I'll try to update as often as I can, starting next weekend and for a few weekends after that (I can only access the net on Sat./Sun.)
Cheers!
Mattias
I'm not very good at keeping in touch, so hopefully this blog will help me out somewhat. Read on as you please and feel free to send me any feedback, questions or comments about anything at my email mattlanas@gmail.com
I'll try to update as often as I can, starting next weekend and for a few weekends after that (I can only access the net on Sat./Sun.)
Cheers!
Mattias
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