We are well into our final session of mammal diversity surveys! It is a bittersweet but bustling period: everyone is rushing about, securing post-project employment and planning flights home and for travel within Mexico after we wrap things up at our home base.
For our past "weekend" between sessions, we headed to the beach! It was our first time heading east of Tapachula, the largest nearby city and our source of groceries and other supplies. After a half-hour's drive past the familiar neighborhoods, in which we passed scrubby fields full of construction projects, scorched grass, and one with an assortment of brown Shetland ponies, we ended up in lovely Playa Linda. It was the off-season, and our vehicle was immediately surrounded by waiters, trying to get the lone beach visitors on a winter Tuesday to visit their seafood restaurant. After promising to return and make a selection in a few hours, we headed to the beach. The sand was scorching and the water warm and heavenly. It was fantastic to get out into the open air and smell the ocean after so much time in the mountains; growing up in New England has spoiled me for prolonged inland living. After swimming, sunning, reading, and (in my case) getting moderately sunburnt despite sitting in the shade wearing sunscreen, we headed back to the main road for lunch. Fortunately a few tourists had rolled in, and a lot of the pressure from the eager waiters had abated. We lunched on refried beans, guac, tortillas, real-sugar coke, and a variety of very fresh seafoods; all very good! After lunch, stuffed to the gills with gilled creatures, we staggered to the nearest superstore to load up on the next week's groceries before heading home for naps.
The day after, we visited a nearby farm to scout for contiguous forest to serve as our control sites. The manager there greeted us warmly as we explained our project and what type of sites we were searching for. He sent for a truck to convey our team, our guide, the manager, and his assistants and guides from the farm up the mountain. A shaggy white dog napped under our car. Several nearly-identical shaggy white sheep grazed nearby. While we waited, the manager broke out a giant papaya. Our guide informed us, conversationally, that for a guest to refuse a gift was bad luck and would mean they might not return again. Our group exchanged glances. Several members had previously discussed their hatred of fresh papaya; I had only once tried a slice and wasn't impressed; none of us liked them. Of course, we enthusiastically accepted the heaping, dripping slices of papaya and each of us began to scarf down bites of segments larger than a liter water bottle and containing about as much liquid. The flesh was sweet, and as someone inconveniently pointed out, tasted strongly of cheddar cheese. Juice rolled down my arms and dripped off my elbows. Tim's beard was full of the orange pulp. Mandi looked sick. Looking over at our guide Philippe, I saw that he and the other locals were eating the papaya as neatly as one would an apple. I studied them as they ate. No trick was apparent. I resigned to be a papaya slob. I am proud to say we all finished our massive slices; by the end, the taste was actually growing on me.
Our search at that farm for sites within contiguous forest was not successful; apparently all of the forests in the nearby area have been thoroughly fragmented by farms and development. We fell back to our original plan, sites in forest fragments relatively near our home base. The day after was spent hiking around, reestablishing our site selection within the forest fragments. It was slow and adventurous work, bushwhacking along invisible trails we originally bushwhacked two months ago. Burrs and thorns were abundant, as were well-camouflaged ditches and mysterious drop-offs. I was in my element, and had a lot of fun navigating the highly challenging terrain.
By the next day, we had ironed out a plan and placed and baited our traps in the forest. This, too, took some bushwhacking and adventurous vine avoidance. There is a particularly spiny vine shaped a lot like a churro that has become my nemesis. I love navigating through the forests, which involves a lot of ducking, dodging, backing up to unwrap branches from ankles, and getting hit in the face with branches that definitely weren't there a moment ago. It's a challenge that keeps each moment interesting. I compare all the getting ripped up, poked, prodded; climbing, sweating, squeezing, slipping, and getting very dirty in the oppressive heat to being digested by the jungle. I also maintain that by that the end of this session I will have passed these trials of the jungle, be at one with the forest, and be able to phase through its matter like a nymph and summon the small mammals to our traps with a song. I will report back on such developments, of course, for science.
Showing posts with label Chiapas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chiapas. Show all posts
Monday, March 17, 2014
Thursday, March 13, 2014
More Mefloquine Dreams
Dream one:
I succeed in catching a chicken. Just as I remember, chickens are very warm and feathery and deceptively light. I am able to show coworker Stephen the amazing ability of chickens to keep their heads still, independent of their bodies' movements. All the chickens of the area hear that I am holding chickens. They crowd around and wait patiently at my feet for their turns to be held. We are all delighted.
Dream two:
I am eating an ice cream sunday at an airport bar. Anthony Bourdain slides onto the seat next to me. He orders a $3000 bacon-based cocktail. He says that it is fantastic and that I should order one, too. Unwilling to disclose my vegetarianism to such an outspoken stranger/celebrity, I instead disclose that I cannot possibly afford such a beverage. He laughs, downs his drink. "Tough cookies, kid," he says.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Updates from the Smithsonian Mammal Survey Field Crew: Waterfalls, mean geese, and broken boots
Our team wrapped up our last sampling sites on coffee farms yesterday. To date, we have completed our combination of study sites in sun, shade, and bird-friendly shade coffee farms; our final session will complete our surveys of forest sites, which will serve as a control to the coffee agroforesty systems we have been investigating.
After we spent a sweaty and very stinky morning clearing moldy bait from traps, our team took a break with our shade-coffee farm guide Adaberto. He led us on a side trip to see some beautiful waterfalls, which were quite a steep and sweaty hike away! The 50m falls we sent up huge plumes of spray; between the wet and the gusty valley winds, I was colder than I've been since leaving home to begin this trip! We lunched on bean salad, rice, tortillas, and hard-boiled eggs at the foot of the falls, and then spent a few hours scrambling on the slick rocks and watching white falcons circle the sky.
My poor boots have been separating from their soles for about a week; at the peak of our hike, they ripped free of their improvised wire stitches and started flapping free. Not good, when scrambling up and down mountains through thick vegetation! I wrapped them in gorilla tape and stepped carefully for the rest of the day. This morning, I ministered to them with more aggressive wire stitches, more tape, and melted paracord as glue. They have only two and a half critical weeks of fieldwork left to make it! I'm rooting for them.
After our waterfall adventure, we descended the mountain and spoke briefly with a solemn-faced old man who was curious about our car (a rental, labeled with a coffee-tourism slogan) and purpose in his village. A very fuzzy white dog was napping under our car, and a small flock of chickens refused to move out of the way. They reminded me of the angry geese at our sun coffee farm-- two large, aggressive characters that like to bite our tires as we drive past. Sometimes we hear the sounds of them tormenting passersby drifting up on the breezes to our study sites.
After returning home, we had a brief coffee break before delving into possibly the grossest (though very satisfying) task involved in mammal surveys-- trap cleaning. The 300 Sherman traps, after 11 trap nights, are full of rat stink, moldy bait, mud, and feces. We blast music and make it a party, everyone scrubbing away with toothbrushes or running traps around the house to dry in the sun. All of the traps laid out on the concrete look like a futuristic glistening solar array, in miniature.
The day after tomorrow, we begin site scouting for our last session! We are hoping to find forest sites less fragmented than those we surveyed in our first session. Wish us luck, and many mammal captures!
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Coffee blooms and boot scorpions
Greetings from Chiapas! We are wrapping up our third of five sampling sessions. More than halfway through the field portion of the study, hard to believe! Although tired and having a rough week with insect bites and stings, our collective will is as steely as our new and improved leg muscles.
Coffee blooms for only a few days in a season, once or twice a year. Luckily, I was here to see the mountains erupt into bloom this week. Each breeze brings the scent of the blossoms, which smell fantastic-- very similar to lilacs. That each coffee plant is covered in blooms also makes it a challenge to find the flagging marking our traps! Our "bajo" site in particular is like the Bermuda Triangle; although set up in a typical 5x5 grid, it takes even the most familiar person a few minutes extra to find their traps to check or rebait.
The first day of coffee blooming was quiet, but by the second day, the fields were literally buzzing with honeybees, small through massive bumblebees, and a variety of other pollinators. Although disconcerting in its volume and intensity, the buzzing hopefully implies both a healthy bee population and a healthy coffee crop next year.
The Mexican word for popped popcorn is 'palmonitas,' literally "little doves." I like that a lot, though I was unsure as to how to describe the actual tiny doves browsing by our road a few mornings ago.
This morning, Mandi stopped to shake some gravel out of her boot, only to shake out a scorpion! She had shaken out her boots as normal before putting them on, but apparently to no avail! Luckily she escaped without a sting, and the scorpion escaped without a smash and scuttled off into the garden. It was almost as big as the scorpion which lives in the pipes of our bathroom sink, who I have dubbed The Basilisk Scorpion.
We closed one of our sites this morning, saying goodbye to our regular captures. Some mice come back every day, which implies that they find the bait more rewarding than our probing to be traumatizing. I get to know these regulars pretty well. Farewell to Sam and Juvie the Heteromys, BlueBalls the Marmosa, and Excessively Pregnant the Handleyomys! Good luck with your delivery, and please may it be soon.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Someone doesn't understand human nature at all...
... Or else wants to unleash some chaos.
Image depicts sign: "NO TOCAR" ("DO NOT TOUCH.") Sign appears above large, highly visible, bright red button.
Friday, February 14, 2014
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Useful Spanish Phrases, volume 2
Pa'same la salsa de soya, por favor.
(Please pass the soy sauce.)
Hay un correo acerca de aqui?
(Is there a post office nearby?)
Lleno, por favor.
(Fill it up, please.)
Dios mio, quien se tiero un pedo? Fue Tim?
(My god, who farted? Was it Tim?)
*Note that my electronic device refuses to let me use correct accents over letters. Pronounce with caution.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Useful Spanish Phrases, volume 1
Mande? / Como?
(What? or Huh?, if you did not hear or understand)
Que hay para la cena?
(What's for dinner?)
Por favor, traeme un limo'n verde para el guacamole.
(Please bring me a lime for the guacamole.)
Hay un alacra'n en mi ropa sucia.
(There is a scorpion in my dirty laundry.)
*Note that my electronic device refuses to let me use correct accents over letters. Pronounce with caution.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
A Day in the Life of a Mammal Survey Research Technician
This loose amalgam of a week is pretty representative of an average day, though a truly typical day sure hasn't happened yet.
5:30 - Wake up, wake roommate with poetry (optional), apply sunscreen, check field equipment, breakfast of: oats and yogurt, banana and/or peanut butter and/or milk and/or cinnamon; coffee.
6:15 - Sunrise, bird chorus begins. Last gear check, groups meet on the porch and put on boots, check radios.
6:30 - Two groups leave for different field sites, sometimes via car, mostly via feet. Roads in this rural area are a mix of cobbles, dirt, and a sprinkling of concrete or tarmac, so driving is only marginally faster than hiking, albeit much cooler. Smile and say buenos dias to everyone you pass, mostly coffee pickers and road workers working much longer days than you.
7:00 - Begin checking traps for mammals. One team member is in charge of handling (holding the animal), the other processing (weighing; recording notes; measuring lengths of body, tail, ear, and hind foot; swabbing mouth for DNA; tagging ear with ID number; and taking lots of photos). If at site 13, my favorite, do try not to fall down the mountain: channel your inner mountain goat and dash across the steep sandy rows of coffee.
10:00 - Complete checking traps. Everyone is famished. Second breakfast time! 1-2 peanut butter sandwiches and a boiled egg with crackers per person is typical. Check in with the group at the other site by radio, compare captures and give brief highlights of cool or unusual stuff caught.
10:30 - Time either for veg analysis, or a brief veg out. Each site has an array of vegetation info to be collected, from IDing all the trees to counting the heights of vegetation intersecting a transect line to measuring and photographing the coffee plants. If finished with all our analyses and have no miscellaneous projects to work on, find a shady trail and read, chat, or play cards.
13:00 or later - Begin baiting the traps, using a special mix of wetted dog food, vanilla, oats, and peanut butter. A small thumbnail-sized ball should do it. Firmly tapping the top of the trap should trigger the door to close; do this to make sure the sensitivity is right. Don't forget to bait the camera traps and switch out the ID cards!
15:00 - Head back to base. Some days end earlier, some later (if we are driving to the city for groceries, we will wrap up in the late morning; a full day of veg analysis with lots of captures will add on a couple hours). Take of the grungiest of your field gear off outside, leave equipment trash in the specified baggies outside the house, unpack the rest of your gear, shower, and meet everyone in the kitchen for a much-desired snack. Afternoon tasks are rotated, and include equipment-checking, data entry, sorting camera trap results, and bait making. Everyone works on IDing species and sorting through photos. Side tasks like dance parties, letter-writing, Spanish lessons, and recreational food preparation are strongly encouraged.
17:30 - Dinner prep begins, directed by the master chef of the day, who is assisted by one to all of the hungry crew.
18:30 - Dinner time! Favorite dishes so far include lentil and black bean burgers, peanut noodles, beans and rice with tortillas and fried eggs, pasta primavera, and veggie bread pudding.
19:00 - Rotating dish-cleaning duties, finish up daily jobs. After, we will often play cards, watch a movie, or just hang out and have a reading party before bed.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Opportunistic Nonmammal Observations
Nonstudy species captured so far:
- Muchos muchos hormigas (ants), divided into three nontaxonomic categories:
a) Sugar ants -- these tiny guys mob the bait balls and suck out all the moisture, leaving only dust and peanuts. Pleasantly harmless.
b) Small ants -- these jerks mob the bait and then bite you when you check the Sherman traps. They will run around between bites, employing a scatter technique to achieve maximum surprise and irritation.
c) Big scary ants -- I haven't had the chance to compare bites between these guys and the small ants, but considering their mandibles, I don't particularly want to. Well, I kind of do, for science, but I'm not looking forward to it.
- Crickets
- Wolf Spiders
- Lizards. The guys love eating all the ants that love the sandy soil of intensive coffee farms, and will follow them into the Sherman traps and scare the bajeezus out of biologists by suddenly flailing, surging out of invisibility from under the floor panel of the traps, or just leaping at their faces. It seems like they need to be medium-sized to trigger the trap doors, so our accidental captures have averaged ~20 cm long.
- Small birds, only one caught so far. Zoomed out seeming no worse for the wear of being caught for a few hours between trap checking and baiting.
On camera traps: dogs, plantation workers, many sassy sassy birds (the larks seem to like to pose and are always coming back for more), and an abundance of candids of techs wandering around looking for the camouflaged little buggers.
Monday, February 3, 2014
Friday, January 31, 2014
Slow Start in Week 2: Smithsonian Mammal / Coffee Study Blog
Week 2 updates from project leader Mandi: http://nationalzoo.si.edu/scbi/migratorybirds/blog/default.cfm?id=336
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