So, finally I'm able to update you all. I've arrived (obviously), and am starting to get into the groove of jungle life. I dont really know where to begin... There are 4 other assistants out here, as well as a field leader who acts as our boss (although he's more of a friend than a boss..) everyone gets along quite wonderfully. At first I was a bit intimidated by how close everyone was but now I'm starting to feel like one of the fold and it's all good. We definetly have fun as we work and I think everyone here shares a feeling of being lucky to be part of such a project. We live, work, eat, and sleep together and it feels like a big multi-cultural funny family. There are also a few guys who do maintanance work, an awesome chef and his assistant, the two boatsmen, the lodge manager, and occasionally tourists who stay in a seperate area. We all live upstairs from the bio-labs and the guide rooms (the guides come when the tourists come to show them around and take them on different types of walks through the jungle) in a big thatched roof very simple structure with open ends that let the air, bugs, occasional birds, and bats in. We all have our own little room seperated by bamboo walls and cloth curtain doors. I'm provided with a mosquito net (thank god) and lots of clothing line in my room to hang all my disgusting soaking wet clothes at the end of the day.
An average day usually starts with my alarm at 4:15 when I get up, stumble around with my headlamp to get dressed and get my things together for the morning. I always remember to check down the legs of my pants with my flashlight before I put them on but I have to say, there has been nothing lurking there so far. We leave the lodge by 4:45 and hike out to the boat port where we get into a boat and take a short ride upriver to the colpa (the clay lick) where the birds flock to every morning. (or, alternately, a marsh on the other side of the same island, where we listen and watch for birds arriving to the colpa and record whatever we see/hear) At the colpa we're recording the time and abundance of each species to use the colpa. On sunny days in particular it's an amazing display, with so many colors of birds being illuminated by the sun. My favorites are the blue and yellow macaws who are a sky blue color on their heads and backs and brilliant golden yellow under their wings. When the sun hits the bottoms of their wings it's just incredibly beautiful. Especially when there's 50 or more of them flying at the same time. Amazing. So, around 7:30 we radio back to the lodge and have the boat come back for us, then we eat breakfast and get ready for our other morning activity. Usually we're climing in the late morning, we're split into pairs, one person will climb a tree with rope and a harness and the other stays on the ground to take measurements of the chick that the climber lowers down in a bucket from the nest. I've climbed three nests so far (many more in the future, I'm sure) and it's been interesting. The climbing itself is incredibly physically demanding. By the end of the climb my arms hardly feel like they're attached to my body any more. I'm sure that with time I will gain strength, and so it will get easier. The view from the top of the trees makes it entirely worth it, however. Macaws like to choose the tallest trees of the forest to nest in and so once you're up there, there are not many other trees taller than you. Because you have to lower down the chick and then the other person has to take all kinds of measurements of it, you just sortof hang up in the tree for half an hour or so, waiting for them to return the chick, so you have time to just look around and enjoy the view (or, alternately, be tortured by bullet ants and sweat bees, depending on the tree). Yesterday there were monkeys moving through the branches in the tree next to me and checking out me, a strange site to them, I'm sure.
The actual removal of the chick from the nest is quite eventful as well... The mother usually pokes her head out of the nest as you're climbing up and starts to growl at you and sometimes yell... Once you get to the nest the first thing you have to do is get rid of the parents, which is done by taking a stick and poking it at her, or, if it's an artificial nest hanging from a branch, you can shake the whole nest and throw off her balance so she'll fly off. Some times it's easier than other times and sometimes she'll attack, flying at you all pissed off with her claws out... that's when I just sortof cover my face and yell back and hope she'll leave me alone. Once that's dealt with, you get to the nest and have to remove the very unhappy and uncooperative chick who also likes to bite. Luckily, they haven't made it through the gloves yet, so it doesn't hurt too much, but at first it was a little scary. Once they're in the bucket you lower it down to the person on the ground, they do their thing (measuring the beak, talons, weight, crop, tail, etc, etc, etc) and then they send the chick back up and you put it back in the nest, and lower yourself down (I like this part the best because it's fairly effortless and it feels like flying).
***I have to stop here because it's time for dinner. Part 2 will be coming soon!***
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
not in Kansas anymore
I dont really know where to find the words for this one... The last day has been pretty crazy, mostly in a good way... a day to never forget.
I find myself in a different world today than I ever knew existed. My flight from Lima was hands down the most amazing flying experience of my life, taking off over the Atacama desert, flat and vast, just expansive dry brown nothingness, then a very short while later, the development of the foothills of the Andes, then a little later, the ANDES! Seriously, what a view! The plane seemed nearly ready to clip the tops off some of the peaks (which, luckily, it did not). There were parts completely covered with snow, just incredibly beautiful. There´s almost no civilization to be seen anywhere, no roads, no anything besides mountains and more mountains. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, is Cuzco, resting on a long, low valley between numerous peaks. I was thinking to myself how completely tenacious the people who originally inhabited this city must have been to take such a remote location and make a city out of it. It seems as though situations like this one would be a challange to pilots, but ours seemed like he had done it a thousand times, and we set down easy. I didn´t even get off the plane, but when they opened the door, I could feel the cool mountain air rush in. I´ll be spending a week or two in Cuzco in conjunction to my trip to Macchu Picchu in May. I think that cool air will be a shock to the system by then. So, less than half an hour later, we were back in the air, again, soaring over the beautiful mountains. Then, quite abruptly, the mountains end, and there´s nothing but a thick, grey mat of clouds. Eventually the captain comes on the loudspeaker asking the attendants to prepare for landing, and I know what´s beneath those clouds. We drop elevation, sink beneath the grey, and whammo! there´s the Amazon spreading out as far as the eye can see in every direction nothing but green! Tears flooded my eyes instantly, as this moment is something I have drempt of for as long as I can remember. I have often heard the Amazon referred to as the ¨lungs of the Earth¨and as I looked out on that landscape, I couldn´t help but feel I was looking my creator in the eye... The only interruptions to the green were twisting, twining rivers.... and then there´s Puerto Maldonado... This ¨city¨, if you can call it a city, is a very foreign land to my eyes. It´s more intense than I expected it to be for sure. (Just now a parade of women protesting for childrens rights are marching by this hole in the wall internet cafe). We landed at the single strip airport and the terminal itself is a single big room with open air grated walls and a thatched roof covered with a layer of corrugated tin (the building material of choice down here). The air is hot. Really steamy, and sweet, but not unbearable. I´m glad to have been in the tropics for over a month now, because I´m feeling decently acclimated to the temperature. I found my luggage and then found a group of German tourists who were going to the same place as me and got in on their private bus to the office of the tourist company who collaborates with the people running the study I´ll be working on. I sat to the side as they checked in all the tourists and delt with all their arrangements, and after that was all done, I was shown my room, which has two bunk beds, with mattresses only on the bottom half. The top half is used as a canopy to hang a mosquito net from. I was then invited to lunch with all the guides, all Peruvians, who were extremely friendly. I was SO grateful for my Spanish classes, without which I would have been completely lost in the conversation. As it was, I still only got about 60%, but was able to follow for the most part, and understood all the questions they asked me about myself, and was then able to answer. I have a feeling that this whole experience is going to be good practice as far as Spanish speaking goes. After lunch one of the girls was going into the town and asked if I wanted to come along. Since I needed to purchase some rubber boots I decided to go, and we walked down the little dirt road to the bigger dirt road and waited for what she referred to as the ¨bus¨. Along comes a dilapadated old mini van with it´s slider door torn off, and it slows down and we hop on, joining 8 or so people who are already on, all Peruvian. They all stare at me. We pay 60 cents (about 10 cents American) and ride for about 20 minutes, picking up others on the way, and when we get to the market place, the girl I was with tells me that I´m there, and I hop off alone. The market is THRONGING with people and activity. There are vendors of everything imaginable, and some things unimaginable, from rice, to chickens, to candy, to unidentifyable herbs, to all kinds of strange looking fish... you name it, it´s there. The smell is atrocious, dominated by the stench of unrefridgerated meat. I eventually find a few people selling rubber boots and I ask around for a good price and eventually settle on $6, although I´m sure it would be considterably less if I were a local and spoke better Spanish. $6 is not too bad, though, and I´m sure the woman I gave it to is happy to make some decent money. I took a look around town, not really daring to walk into the areas away from the center... I get the impression that people are (financially) really really poor here and it´s something I´ve never experienced before. Not to this level. Houses are barely standing, clothes are dirty and torn, some of the children are barefoot, faces look weathered and show signs of a life of struggle. At the same time, the unifying factors of joy and laughter are here as well. Parents playing with their children, people enjoying conversation and the good things in life... I just cant imagine this place being reality for an entire lifetime. I´m really grateful, however, to let it be my reality for a few days. It´s enlightening indeed to see how life goes in a place like this.
I eventually returned to the lodge and spent the night writing in my journal and reading (very slowly with my dictionary at my side) a book in Spanish, and then just laying under my mosquito net, listening to the night sounds of the jungle, and feeling incredibly lucky. Seriously lucky. I remind myself constantly.
The boat schedule is a bit confused here and I´m going to be in Puerto Maldonado until the 9th, then I´m going half way up river to a lodge called ¨Posadas Amazonas¨ for four days, and then on the 13th I´ll finally be on my way to Tambopata. I´m excited to get waaayy out there and be away from all the motorcycles and barking dogs that are in this city... to really get down to buisness...
I find myself in a different world today than I ever knew existed. My flight from Lima was hands down the most amazing flying experience of my life, taking off over the Atacama desert, flat and vast, just expansive dry brown nothingness, then a very short while later, the development of the foothills of the Andes, then a little later, the ANDES! Seriously, what a view! The plane seemed nearly ready to clip the tops off some of the peaks (which, luckily, it did not). There were parts completely covered with snow, just incredibly beautiful. There´s almost no civilization to be seen anywhere, no roads, no anything besides mountains and more mountains. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, is Cuzco, resting on a long, low valley between numerous peaks. I was thinking to myself how completely tenacious the people who originally inhabited this city must have been to take such a remote location and make a city out of it. It seems as though situations like this one would be a challange to pilots, but ours seemed like he had done it a thousand times, and we set down easy. I didn´t even get off the plane, but when they opened the door, I could feel the cool mountain air rush in. I´ll be spending a week or two in Cuzco in conjunction to my trip to Macchu Picchu in May. I think that cool air will be a shock to the system by then. So, less than half an hour later, we were back in the air, again, soaring over the beautiful mountains. Then, quite abruptly, the mountains end, and there´s nothing but a thick, grey mat of clouds. Eventually the captain comes on the loudspeaker asking the attendants to prepare for landing, and I know what´s beneath those clouds. We drop elevation, sink beneath the grey, and whammo! there´s the Amazon spreading out as far as the eye can see in every direction nothing but green! Tears flooded my eyes instantly, as this moment is something I have drempt of for as long as I can remember. I have often heard the Amazon referred to as the ¨lungs of the Earth¨and as I looked out on that landscape, I couldn´t help but feel I was looking my creator in the eye... The only interruptions to the green were twisting, twining rivers.... and then there´s Puerto Maldonado... This ¨city¨, if you can call it a city, is a very foreign land to my eyes. It´s more intense than I expected it to be for sure. (Just now a parade of women protesting for childrens rights are marching by this hole in the wall internet cafe). We landed at the single strip airport and the terminal itself is a single big room with open air grated walls and a thatched roof covered with a layer of corrugated tin (the building material of choice down here). The air is hot. Really steamy, and sweet, but not unbearable. I´m glad to have been in the tropics for over a month now, because I´m feeling decently acclimated to the temperature. I found my luggage and then found a group of German tourists who were going to the same place as me and got in on their private bus to the office of the tourist company who collaborates with the people running the study I´ll be working on. I sat to the side as they checked in all the tourists and delt with all their arrangements, and after that was all done, I was shown my room, which has two bunk beds, with mattresses only on the bottom half. The top half is used as a canopy to hang a mosquito net from. I was then invited to lunch with all the guides, all Peruvians, who were extremely friendly. I was SO grateful for my Spanish classes, without which I would have been completely lost in the conversation. As it was, I still only got about 60%, but was able to follow for the most part, and understood all the questions they asked me about myself, and was then able to answer. I have a feeling that this whole experience is going to be good practice as far as Spanish speaking goes. After lunch one of the girls was going into the town and asked if I wanted to come along. Since I needed to purchase some rubber boots I decided to go, and we walked down the little dirt road to the bigger dirt road and waited for what she referred to as the ¨bus¨. Along comes a dilapadated old mini van with it´s slider door torn off, and it slows down and we hop on, joining 8 or so people who are already on, all Peruvian. They all stare at me. We pay 60 cents (about 10 cents American) and ride for about 20 minutes, picking up others on the way, and when we get to the market place, the girl I was with tells me that I´m there, and I hop off alone. The market is THRONGING with people and activity. There are vendors of everything imaginable, and some things unimaginable, from rice, to chickens, to candy, to unidentifyable herbs, to all kinds of strange looking fish... you name it, it´s there. The smell is atrocious, dominated by the stench of unrefridgerated meat. I eventually find a few people selling rubber boots and I ask around for a good price and eventually settle on $6, although I´m sure it would be considterably less if I were a local and spoke better Spanish. $6 is not too bad, though, and I´m sure the woman I gave it to is happy to make some decent money. I took a look around town, not really daring to walk into the areas away from the center... I get the impression that people are (financially) really really poor here and it´s something I´ve never experienced before. Not to this level. Houses are barely standing, clothes are dirty and torn, some of the children are barefoot, faces look weathered and show signs of a life of struggle. At the same time, the unifying factors of joy and laughter are here as well. Parents playing with their children, people enjoying conversation and the good things in life... I just cant imagine this place being reality for an entire lifetime. I´m really grateful, however, to let it be my reality for a few days. It´s enlightening indeed to see how life goes in a place like this.
I eventually returned to the lodge and spent the night writing in my journal and reading (very slowly with my dictionary at my side) a book in Spanish, and then just laying under my mosquito net, listening to the night sounds of the jungle, and feeling incredibly lucky. Seriously lucky. I remind myself constantly.
The boat schedule is a bit confused here and I´m going to be in Puerto Maldonado until the 9th, then I´m going half way up river to a lodge called ¨Posadas Amazonas¨ for four days, and then on the 13th I´ll finally be on my way to Tambopata. I´m excited to get waaayy out there and be away from all the motorcycles and barking dogs that are in this city... to really get down to buisness...
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Lima
So, here I am in my first days in Peru, which I´m sure will not at all resemble what most of my days here will be like, and I´m getting more excited by the minute. My flights went smoothly and I was blessed by the airplane neighbor gods with interesting people who wanted to converse and therefore who made the trips feel considerably shorter. On my flight to Miami I sat next to Hector, a {gorgeous} Cuban yoga instructor, who was full of wisdom and humor. We became friends in short time and ended up pouring our hearts out to one another about this and that. He gave me some great advice and made me feel positive and happy about everything in life, which I already pretty much was anyway, but anyhow, thanks Hector, wherever you are.
Yesterday I spent the day exploring the city a bit, or at least the areas that were dubbed ¨safe¨to me by the reception guy at my hostel. I went to a beautiful Franciscan church which, in its basement, contains the bodily remains of over 70,000 people. The bones are all arranged by type and then placed in geometric designs. Weeeird.... I had never seen anything like it before and it was really pretty spooky... thousands of skulls laid out in concentric circles, huge piles of leg bones, etc, etc... the church itself was absolutely gorgeous. I didn´t wander far into the poorer areas of town, as I had my camera and a bit of money on me, and didn´t feel like parting with either of them. The city is, for the most part, extremely flat, except a few hills at the end of town, which rise up suddenly. On the hills there are little communities of poor folks, with brightly painted corrugated tin houses that look as though they could blow over in a second. I didn´t dare wander into these neighborhoods, but I have to say I was intreagued and would have liked to have a more personal glimpse into the way that more than half of this country lives. As it is, I´m staying in the nicest part of town, a suburb called Miraflores, where the majority of tourists live, and where the more well-to-do Limeños live. Things are still shockingly cheap, especially with my backpacker mentality of going to supermarkets instead of restaurants (although I scoped out a vegetarian restaurant that I´m going to go back to tonight as a celebration for my last night outside the jungle) and to make myself an avocado tomato sandwich it runs me about 40 cents. The cabs are also really cheap, about $2 for a half hour trip into the city center (and I´m sure that´s the gringo price).
Today I dropped off my suitcase of Costa Rican beach gear at the appartment of the Guacamayo (Macaw) project leader, Carolina, who spends half her year here in Lima, and the other half in the jungle. She was super sweet and we sat and talked for half an hour or so mostly about what to expect from my next three months. She gave a very very good impression and our conversation left me more excited than ever. I now know that there will be about 5 other assistants working the same time as myself, along with about 5 local guides, and another few women who do the cooking. It sounds as though there´s a good comradery among the project crew (she said they often organize soccer games on the ¨beach¨beside the river and that everyone has an attitude of making the best of the situation). I will appreciate positive attitudes, as I´m sure it will not all be peachy...
Anyhow, I´ll stop there, and write more about TRC once I´m living there and getting a better feeling for things for myself. For now, I´m going to go luxuriate with my vegetarian meal and then I´m going to watch some Spanish TV and get to bed early for my big day tomorrow.
Yesterday I spent the day exploring the city a bit, or at least the areas that were dubbed ¨safe¨to me by the reception guy at my hostel. I went to a beautiful Franciscan church which, in its basement, contains the bodily remains of over 70,000 people. The bones are all arranged by type and then placed in geometric designs. Weeeird.... I had never seen anything like it before and it was really pretty spooky... thousands of skulls laid out in concentric circles, huge piles of leg bones, etc, etc... the church itself was absolutely gorgeous. I didn´t wander far into the poorer areas of town, as I had my camera and a bit of money on me, and didn´t feel like parting with either of them. The city is, for the most part, extremely flat, except a few hills at the end of town, which rise up suddenly. On the hills there are little communities of poor folks, with brightly painted corrugated tin houses that look as though they could blow over in a second. I didn´t dare wander into these neighborhoods, but I have to say I was intreagued and would have liked to have a more personal glimpse into the way that more than half of this country lives. As it is, I´m staying in the nicest part of town, a suburb called Miraflores, where the majority of tourists live, and where the more well-to-do Limeños live. Things are still shockingly cheap, especially with my backpacker mentality of going to supermarkets instead of restaurants (although I scoped out a vegetarian restaurant that I´m going to go back to tonight as a celebration for my last night outside the jungle) and to make myself an avocado tomato sandwich it runs me about 40 cents. The cabs are also really cheap, about $2 for a half hour trip into the city center (and I´m sure that´s the gringo price).
Today I dropped off my suitcase of Costa Rican beach gear at the appartment of the Guacamayo (Macaw) project leader, Carolina, who spends half her year here in Lima, and the other half in the jungle. She was super sweet and we sat and talked for half an hour or so mostly about what to expect from my next three months. She gave a very very good impression and our conversation left me more excited than ever. I now know that there will be about 5 other assistants working the same time as myself, along with about 5 local guides, and another few women who do the cooking. It sounds as though there´s a good comradery among the project crew (she said they often organize soccer games on the ¨beach¨beside the river and that everyone has an attitude of making the best of the situation). I will appreciate positive attitudes, as I´m sure it will not all be peachy...
Anyhow, I´ll stop there, and write more about TRC once I´m living there and getting a better feeling for things for myself. For now, I´m going to go luxuriate with my vegetarian meal and then I´m going to watch some Spanish TV and get to bed early for my big day tomorrow.
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