Compared to the deluxe Los Lagos Resort my Mom found for us to stay at by Arenal Volcano, Don Taco was a bit more humble. We stayed in wooden cabins on stilts with quaint balconies. Mike and my parents weren’t too hot on the idea of a cold shower. Mike cracked me up because he kept pointing out how everything including the mirror bounced when he walked across the floor. So there wasn’t a wet bar serving piña coladas in pineapples, but there was a yummy Tican breakfast (rice, beans, eggs, fruit, cheese, coffee), wonderful staff, and a cute dog all for $20 a night per person. The desk staffers were fantastic; Jessica arranged all our tours and had a friend go pick up my Dad’s belly bag from across the lake at Los Lagos.

 

This parrot gnawed on fruit outside of a small restaurant. Poor thing had his wings clipped so he couldn’t fly anywhere. He and my Dad played a game where he flipped his food dish, my Dad picked it back up, and the cycle repeated.

 

We went on two tours; on Monday afternoon we went on a canopy tour at Santa Elena and the next morning we went for a walking tour in Monteverde National Park. I chose for us to stay in Santa Elena because it is less touristy than the famous Monteverde—and as a result, less expensive. But there is still plenty to do like horseback riding to waterfalls, canopy zip lines, tours of cheese making factories, and tours of sugar cane farms. Monday night I had fresh, hot sugarcane juice with my dinner at Morphos restaurant. Very tasty. Although, my meal was a strange combo–I ordered a veggie burger and ended up with a fried egg on a roll with avocado slices, lettuce, tomato, and onion. I think it’s better to just stick with good ole gallo pinto (rice and beans). It makes me laugh how many Italian restaurants there are in Costa Rica. You don’t come here for Italian food; You come here for fresh pineapple, papaya, and other exotic fruits, as well as fried plantains, tortillas, gallo pinto, cafecito (literally little coffee), ceviche, and lisano sauce (like barbecue sauce). Before coming here I never really appreciated rice, beans, and tortillas but there are so many delicious ways to season and prepare them! Mmmmm….yum!

 

 

Before dinner we went on a “Sky Walk” canopy tour in Santa Elena. The company also offered “Sky Trek” zip lines. Though zip lining down through the canopy would be a terrific rush, we opted for the bridge walk because it allowed us to take our time and see more. Plus, my Mom is not a fan of heights; even walking up the spiral staircase to the net bridges she was not very happy. The first of our six bridges was 49 feet high and 98 feet long. My favorite was the last one which took us 150 feet above the ground for a length of 900 feet. From that bridged we saw male and female Orange-bellied Trogons, which are in the same family as the Resplendent Quetzel. At the end of the bridge a Violet Saberwing, the largest Hummingbird in Costa Rica, hovered right in front of us for a few moments.

 

On the right side you see blue sky. Mike and I enjoyed slowly walking along the bridges looking for birds and exciting epiphytes. Unfortunately we didn’t see any monkeys!

 

The next morning we got up early and trekked out to Monte Verde National Park right at opening time, 7 AM, because they only admit a limited number of visitors per day and we were told that that would give us the greatest chance of seeing Resplendent Quetzels. Gerardo, my professor who is always 100% serious (*cough*cough*), told me that I was very likely to go the whole semester and never see one. So I suppose it’s good that I went with low hopes. After we bought tickets for our tour I saw a ranger making the Quetzel call and listening to the woods. I followed him and he spotted 2 females and a male in a parking lot tree snacking on fruits resembling small avocados. In my excitement, I didn’t know whether to use binoculars or my camera! Decisions, decisions! A paparazzi like group of tourists descended on the bottom of the tree rapidly snapping pictures with large flashes and telephoto lenses that made me green with envy. My mom shouted for me to come or I’d miss the tour and I told her, “Wait a minute, come here first!” The birds flew from their tree to another across the parking lot and everyone ran after them. I fumbled and got the picture below before they flew away from all the noise and the chaos of the gawking humans. I apologize that my shot doesn’t do the bird justice.

 

My photo’s not great but it must be included because it is a male Resplendent Quetzel! There are less than a thousand of these magnificent birds left in the world. Our Monteverde Tour guide solemnly predicted that they will be extinct within 30 years.

 

I was happy because I had seen my Quetzel. Mike and Dad joked that now we had to go search for a Resplendent Pretzel with mustard for Mom because she had missed it. Our next wildlife encounter was with a curious Coati Mundi who had adapted to the tourists in the park. Like a raccoon in the states he scavenged around the picnic tables and trash cans for food. It is interesting and sad how even in National Parks exposure to humans can fundamentally change a wild animal’s behavior so that it no longer needs to practice its adapted hunting and scavenging techniques. Animals such as pigeons, deer, and raccoons, which are able to best coexist with human society, are labeled pests. But they wouldn’t be as prevalent if we hadn’t altered the environment in the first place. Each and every one of our actions has such a great effect on the world around us.

 

The Coati Mundi struts his stuff as he trots through a group of tourists.

 

Something smells interesting!

 

Dad was a trooper and insisted on hiking all the way to the continental divide while in Monteverde Tropical Cloud Forest.

 

Our guided tour through Monte Verde was delightful, although we did not witness much animal wildlife. Our guide joked that we could not find many of the melodious birds because there was an inverse correlation between musical talent and physical beauty; the beautiful birds don’t have to work hard to earn a mate as a LBB (little brown bird) or a LYB (little yellow bird). We heard the calls of many species including the Quetzels and hawks. However we could not find the forest dwellers because of the abundance of plant life; dew dripping epiphytes, mosses, vines, bromeliads, and multicolored orchids carpeted the giant fichus, palms, and other species of trees. At one point our guide told us a hollow strangler fig was filled with a colony of butterflies. I stared for a minute inside the heart of the tree and saw nothing–that is until our guide blew inside and a mass of black wings scattered and flew away.

 

An old growth tree covered in epiphytes, bromeliads, mosses, ferns, and hundreds of other species. In the tropics you cannot measure rings to determine age because there are not distinct hot and cold seasons. Instead age is estimated by the number of species living on a tree.

 

As a defensive mechanism millipedes like this spray cyanide to fend off predators. You can tell centipedes and millipedes apart because millipedes have two legs on each segment while centipedes have only one.

 

I think that this is a Saturniid moth (Rothschilidia lebeau). The one on the cover of Daniel Janzen’s Costa Rican Natural History had slightly rounder triangles. You can tell a moth from a butterfly because moths rest with their wings spread.

 

The view of Puntarenas and the Bay of Nicoya from the continental divide. We couldn’t make out the Caribbean on the other side because it was a little two cloudy – makes sense since it’s called a Tropical Cloud Forest.

 

The Tree House Café in downtown Santa Elena was one of our two favorite places to eat because it featured a giant fichus tree in the center of the restaurant.

 

This is Mike’s photo of the fichus trunk. We ate chocolate fondue by the upper branches. Dad liked dipping tortilla chips, Mike liked pineapple best, I think Mom liked bananas and I enjoyed eating straight chocolate sauce. Chocolate fondue with tropical fruit = straight bliss!

 

As always thank you for reading. Mucho gusto,

 

Tammy J

Photo taken by my Dad of me, Mike, and my Mom at the wet bar in the hot pool at Los Lagos Resort.

 

Our first trip started about an hour after I finished back-to-back final exams. I didn’t feel completely ready for my finals but it was ok because I was really looking forward to Spring Break with my parents and wonderful boyfriend, Mike.

 

 

After finishing a ridiculous tropical ecology exam (Yes, Gerado, I think you are a fabulous professor, but that exam was crazy!). I waited anxiously at the gate for Mike and my parents to arrive. Once I had plopped my luggage down in a pile, I started to anxiously wonder if they would be able to find me. My Dad doesn’t speak any Spanish, my Mom hasn’t spoken it since College, and Mike has high school proficiency. I told them to direct the Taxi driver to go to “La Universidad de La Presa.” But what if the driver doesn’t know where my school is? I mentally kick myself for not telling them “U. de La Presa en Atenas.” My Mom had planned to call me at 3:00 PM but it was already past 3:30 PM and I hadn’t heard anything from her. I checked the phone to make sure the ringer was on. To deal with my nerves I ran up the dirt path to the kitchen to fill a plastic baggy full of fresh chopped pineapple, papaya, and watermelon for them to try. Then I sprinted back to the gate in my long flowing white skirt. You’d think by now I’d be good at sprinting in flip flops but I still stumble a little on the uneven path. Back at the gate I start picking hibiscus and other flowers to give to my Mom for her birthday, which was the day before. At 3:45 PM, I received a text message that they would be here soon. Relieved I left my luggage at the gate and pattered up the dusty street to greet them.

 

 

When the van pulled up I gave them each a big hug and introduced myself to the driver. This trip to Arenal Volcano, Monteverde Cloud Forest, Manual Antonio Beach, and then to my school is very special because it is the first time that Mike has ever left the country and it is the first time my parents have left the country since I was born (other than a trip to Niagara Falls). I am very grateful that they brought me a sleeping bag and mat so I can return to the beautiful custom of sleeping in a hammock.

 

 

During the trip to Arenal Volcano we exchanged stories and I found out that my brother’s trip to Nicaragua left him in a thoughtful state because he met people who had to survive on less than a dollar a day and who lacked reading and writing skills. It was wonderful to see the three of them. I don’t think I’ve had the chance to get very homesick because my days have been filled with so many adventures; it was a pleasure to play tour guide and share a country I’ve grown to love with some of the people I love.

 

Dinner together at Los Lagos; everyone got their first taste of Tican hospitality.

 

The van ride gave them the chance to see the sunset over the mountains. We arrived at the Volcano at dark, ate at an Italian Restaurant, and then took a ride up to our adjacent rooms. Dad was depressed because he was told the room would have a view of the volcano. We looked out and tried to find smoldering, red lava spurting out of the top of Arenal, but all we saw was a dark sky filled with bright stars. Because Dad was feeling blue he and my mom stayed in and Mike and I ventured down the steep path to the hot pool.

 

 

Walking down the dark path was a little spooky because two dark shapes moved in the shadows. Then a white sheet walked by. These three shapes were horses munching on the grass on our side of the fence. Intimidated by the large animals we started back up the path until a hotel worker drove by, asked us if we needed a lift, and then told us not to mind the horses because they wouldn’t bother us. His news gave us courage so we continued to venture towards the pool. The Los Lagos deluxe resort was amazing. There was a complicated network of water slides, permanent blue-tiled lounges surrounding the lower cold pools, and a hot pool fed by natural springs. The hot pool felt like a steamy bath and it had a volcano shaped fountain in the center and a wet bar along the side. The wet bar served piña coladas in pineapples as well as other drinks in coconuts. Seemed like the life of the rich and famous to me, but I know that the rich and famous are even more exorbitant.

 

My mom took this shot of my boyfriend going down one of the water slides that goes underground. In 9^th grade I stole/monopolized her manual Nikon and have been taking photos ever since. Can you see who I got my love for photography from?

 

Mom, Mike, and Dad hang out sipping drinks in the wet bar.

 

The next morning Dad was in a much better mood because he woke up, opened the door, and saw the massive Arenal Volcano standing tall right in front of him. The room and resort was just like the advertisement. The white towels in the bathrooms were folded like swans and decorated with fresh flowers. Toiletries provided were biodegradable shampoo, conditioner, hand soap, lotion, a sewing kit with multicolored threads, and a shower cap. For a college student who is used to doing her own dishes, taking cold showers, and making compost all of these luxuries were shocking. Breakfast was served in silver platters with matching tops. Our dear waiter Luis remembered everyone’s names from the night before and brought my mother Te frio (cold tea) as soon as she arrived. Everywhere we went the te frio was more of a cold smoothie with different fruit flavors. The Spanish that Dad had practiced before coming was how to say café con leche (coffee with milk). He was quite pleased that the milk came heated and presweetened. Needless to say the Ticos know how to spoil their tourists.

 

This is the shot Mom took that morning from the door of her hotel room.

 

I sit on the porch watching the horses in front of the volcano. Yes, not very exciting but it’s one of my favorite portraits and it was taken by my honey J

 

Mike, me, Mom, and Dad pose with our beloved waiter Luis in the center in front of the Volcano.

 

Before checking out the viewing point at the National Park on the opposite side of the park we decided to explore the gardens. The curvy pathways featured signs with images and the names of the creatures you could possibly discover.

 

Emerald Basilisk wandering around Los Lagos Hotel Resort. Isn’t it beautiful?!

 

Right before I took this shot, the Jesus Christ Lizard was walking across the water.

 

Though I was thrilled to see the Emerald Basilisk, iguanas, and Jesus Christ Lizards, my favorite part of the garden was the butterfly house. After walking in I was stunned by all the fluttering colors of the tropical butterflies. My first instinct was to grab my camera and start shooting but the morphos were so fast that all I ended up with were a bunch of blue blurs. Thus, I decided to put the camera down and just enjoy myself – this is a lot harder than it sounds. A fellow traveler had one land on his hand so I had to shoot it. While I was composing my shot, my Dad calmly beckoned, “Tammy, come here.” I should have gone straight to him because several morpho butterflies had landed on his bright blue T-shirt, but I was too late!

 

A Morpho Butterfly on a Bird of Paradise plant. Morphos are really difficult to photograph so the Tico who runs the butterfly garden helped me cheat. Can you guess how?

 

Monarch Butterflies are much easier to photograph because they hold still!

 

The Tico who runs the butterfly house was very kind and opened up the boxes that hold the different butterfly eggs, caterpillars, and chrysalis for us to see. As you can imagine I was thrilled. Mom bought me a pair of morpho chrysalis earrings. Yes, I know I am a biology nerd! He also had a caged boa but I was more interested in the bugs. If anyone is interested I can post photos with all the life stages of a morpho butterflies. Once the guys had had enough of the gardens, we enjoyed the pools, and then hailed a taxi to the national park.

 

Arenal Lake is a RAMSAR site as well as an unnatural lake that formed as a result of the dam which provides energy for much of Costa Rica.

 

Arenal Volcano, yes the name sounds like a common Jewish prayer.

 

My mom really enjoyed the ride around the volcano because she got to see all the other hotels she had considered staying. When we reached the look out point we stared at the huge cinder cone volcano. We stood at a pavilion with Arenal Lake behind us. There were lots of other tourists there snapping photos and eating junkfood out of plastic containers. We expected to see red lava like in the postcards so there was an initial letdown. Most of the other tourists stayed for about ten minutes and then left after successfully getting photos snapped of themselves standing in front of the volcano to prove that they had been there. We had told our taxi driver to pick us back up in 1.5 hours so we were in no hurry to leave.

 

The four of us sat down and took turns passing around the binoculars. There was no red lava but there were definitely white and gray landslides of rock. It was fun to try to watch one rock go down and kick up clouds of smoke each time it hit the mountain on its way down. Dad speculated that they must be the size of buses for us to see them from our faraway vantage point. Occasionally we would hear a low grumble. One time we heard a loud growl nearby and Mom excitedly proclaimed it was the volcano until she realized it was the engine of a nearby jeep. It was surprisingly very peaceful there just sitting and watching the occasional rock fall down the side of the volcano. I thought I would feel impressed by the dynamic fluidity of our earth’s surface but instead I just felt peace.

 

An elderly bus driver named Mario joined us and gave us bottles of juice and tea in exchange for conversation and letting him use our binoculars. He was raised near Poas Volcano but Arenal was his favorite. We chatted casually. After a while I tried to ask him if he had extra seats in his bus and could possibly take us back to the park entrance. He didn’t quite understand my choppy Spanish so my dad showed him a hitchhikers thumb and he instantly understood and proclaimed that the body language was better than Spanish.

For dinner we went to Nene’s which was recommended both by a hotel worker and Mario. The food was decent but not as good as at my school. The next morning we took a jeep-boat-jeep ride to Monteverde tropical cloud forest.

 

We ate dinner at Nene’s Restaurant where this chef is smoking sausages and tortillas. Photo courtesy of my Dad.

 

A friendly tourist took this group shot of us in front of Arenal Lake and the Volcano.

 

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SO I AM GOING TO CHEAT A LITTLE ON THE BLOG ABROAD PHOTO CONTEST AND ASK YOU TO HELP ME PICK WHICH 2 PHOTOS TO ENTER! THANKS! LUV, TAMMY

Feel free to choose something not included below.

Cahuita sunrise at 6:02 AM.

 

Laura hanging out on campus on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

 

Hummingbirds from our Cerro De la Muerte experiment.

 

Sloth at organic cocoa farm.

 

Boats in Lake Masaya, Nicaragua

 

Waterfowl off the Tempisque River in Palo Verde.

 

Baby howler monkey at Palo Verde.

 

Fallen Coconut tree at Cahuita on the Caribbean.

 

Golden Eyelash pitviper by our campgrounds at Cahuita.

 

Steve photographs a spider at La Selva Biological Station.

 

Daddy poison dart frog with baby tadpole on its back.

This black iguana suns in a tree near our cabins.

 

For me the beauty of science lies in its honesty; straight, objective quantitative data collection. For example, the rainfall measurements I regularly collected from the gage network in Baltimore and the macro-invertebrate data we recently collected at Braulio Carrillo National Park had no agenda. There are always sources of error and there are different potential data interpretations but the numbers are real.

Something that makes me irate is when people make up numbers or statistics just to have an answer or to support their agenda. It’s appalling to discover that an organization or person has falsified information; I feel like I can’t trust anything else they say.

 

This iron wood tree species is practically extinct due to over extraction because its wood is strong and rot resistant and was a popular choice for boat construction.

 

Now the connection to study abroad: while in Costa Rica I am living as a part of the SFS community. I see the same 32 students, 3 interns, 2 community directors, and 3 professors at least 3 meals a day, 6 days a week. My fellow students and I are in close quarters for 24 hours a day—including 12:30 PM when some are trying to fall asleep and at 6:00 AM when others are trying to stay asleep. We share showers, bathrooms, common living space, dishes, clotheslines, and the responsibility to keep everything neat and clean. This provides for an interesting dynamic when you have young adults from vastly different socio-economic and geographic backgrounds. (Personally, I think I’m one of the least wealthy because the only reason I can afford this study abroad program is that I have an academic full ride at UMBC- Thank you Bobbie Shapazian in the scholarship office!)

 

I am amazed how this tree survives on the dry mountain top. Look at it’s roots!

 

I am surprised and impressed that there has not been much conflict in our group. It bothers me that people smoke and drink and wake me up when they come back from the bar—but they are adults who like I have the right to make their own decisions. (Wow, that line is my politically correct way of saying that I’d rather just get along with everybody than deal with confrontation and critical conversation because I don’t believe I have the power to change people. It’s also a matter of picking and choosing your battles. And actions speak louder than words. Note: one night, with a small group I did have a respectful conversation in which I expressed my opinions and found out people like using such substances as a means to relax—words are good but they didn’t change my or their actions.)

A young Howler Monkey leaps to a new branch.

Drinking and smoking don’t bother me nearly as much as spreading false information. There is one student who has told groups of us that our mangos are a species that always stays green. She also proclaimed to the group that a distinct bird was the wrong species. Both examples I questioned if she was sure, to which she adamantly proclaimed that she was positive. Afterwards, I checked and found out she was mistaken and then politely let her know the correct information and she snapped at me. I don’t know if these examples were just misunderstandings or if she cares more about sounding like she knows what she is talking about than the actual truth. It is tiring to constantly second guess a person and wonder if what they are telling you is true or false.

(Note: in an effort to be as truthful as possible I will let you know a rather stupid mistake I made in a previous blog entry. In my song there is a line “skinny girl from another hemisphere.” This line is false because I am from the North and I still am in the Northern Hemisphere. Oops!)

Bats rest during the day on the�underside of this dead tree.

In summary, community living is extremely fun and you get to learn a lot about other people and their exciting lives but you have to be more accommodating of others and work with and get along with people even if you don’t agree with all their actions.

Waterfowl nesting on a tree along the Tempisque River in Palo Verde.

Steve holds one of the invasive cattails (typha) that is taking over the Palo Verde National Park wetland which serves as habitat for thousands of migratory birds.

 

 

At Palo Verde, we visited a women’s paper co-op that uses invasive cattails to make high quality homemade paper products. Living by the national park is difficult for these families because they have to travel to access resources. Their project is fantastic because it helps the park deal with the invasive cattail problem and offers the women a source of income.

 

I chat with the best painter at the co-op and Mike who is a biologist at Palo Verde National Park. Some hotels and bussinesses have expressed interest in large orders of their handpainted stationary, evelopes, picture frames, gift bags and other paper goods but they cannot fufill these orders because their large blender is broken and they don’t have the funds to fix it. It’s frustrating how a small amount of money could make such a difference for this community.

A view of Palo Verde National Park from the top of the mountain we hiked up.

 

Another spectacular trip! I love it here! As if you couldn’t already tell! (Don’t you love the high intensity of four consecutive exclamation points?) “Right here, right now, there is no other place I’d rather be.”The SFS Costa Rica program is amazing because of the places we see and the experts we are exposed to. This week we have had a group of professors along as well as Mike from Palo Verde.

This fossilized algae is evidence of some of the first life on earth!

 

I feel so privileged to be able to rack their brains. I want to be a sponge and just absorb all the knowledge that they have to share. I love learning for learning’s sake.

 

 

You can tell that this green iguana is just a yearling because they turn more grey as they age.

For me, living in Costa Rica has been a HUGE deal. I feel so lucky to be here because traveling is so expensive and you don’t get much free time off from a 9-5:00 PM, 40 hour a week job. There is a very high probability that this is the longest time I will ever spend away from home. It is also highly probable that I may never visit this region of the world again. After all, I don’t happen to be independently wealthy. This reality is one of the reasons that I conscientiously savor each moment.

View from our boat ride on the Tempisque River.  

Talking with Dr. Carson and his wife who both hold high level positions at Whitman College in Washington State, has given me a small epiphany…get paid to travel! Ibit, a professor from University of Vermont is getting paid to go hiking up a limestone mountain, see monkeys and over 25 species of birds, go on a boat ride on the Tempisque River, and see an alligator. Not a bad life.

Great egrets, Cattle egrets, and top right is a White Ibis.

Here is our bird list for the two day trip:

(Note this is a rough draft of the bird list because I have to study for my finals so there are probably many misspellings – I apologize)

1 Roseate Spoonbill (Ajaijaja) Pink!

2 Great Egret (Casmerodius albus)

3 Little Blue Heron (Egretta caerulea)

4 Northern Jacana (Jacana spinosa)

5 White Ibis (Eudocimus albus)

6 Tricolor Egret (Egreta tricolor)

7 Snowy Egret (Egreta thua)

8 Woodstork (Mycteria Americana)

9 Black Bellied Whistling Duck (Dendrocyna automnalis)

10 Double-striped ihknee (Burshinus bistriatus)

11 Crested Caracara (Polyboaus Plancus)

12 Limpkins (Aramus guarauna) –looks like a brown ibis

13Tiger Heron (Tigrisoma mexicanum) -striped

14 Peregrine Falcon (Falco peregrinus) –flies with pointed wings

15 Spotted Sandpiper (Aititis maarbia)

16 Boat-billed Heron (Cochlearious cochlearious) Doe-eyed with a platypus bill!

17 Olivaceous cormorant (Phalacroco vaxolivaceous)

18 Anhinga (Anhinga anhinga) swims underwater like a cormorant

19 Black-headed Trogon (Trogon melanocephalus) related to the Quetzel

20 Great Kiskadee (Pitangus sulphuratus)

21 Cattle Egrets (Bubulues ibis) –blown from Afica 1950s!

22 Fork-tailed Emerald Hummingbird (Chlorostilbon canivettii)

23 Spotted-breasted Oriole (cterus pectoralis)

24 Groove-billed ani

25 Tropical Kingbird (Tyrannus melarcholicious)

Chelsea wears a bat pollinated flower behind her ear.� You can tell who pollinates a flower by its color and structure.

“In wildness is the preservation of the world.”

~Thoreau

Black bellied whistling ducks and other migratory birds at Palo Verde National Park.

 

Wednesday, March 15^th

10:00 PM

 

I just took a night walk from our cabins to the docks above the wetland in Palo Verde National Park. There is very little light pollution here so I can actually write with the light of the full moon. Walking by myself in front of the group without a flashlight I feel completely drawn to the moon. I’m not sure why, but I feel certain that she’s female and should be worshipped. Yes, I know that the moon is a giant rock orbiting our earth but I feel magnetized. I walk toward her along the dusty stone path. After chatting with Siobhan and Yoshi about the San Francisco Zodiac Killer, I feel so happy to be away from major cities and down in the tropical dry forest.

 

A daytime view of the Palo Verde wetland from the dock.

 

Upon reaching the open wetland, I stopped by the fence and soaked in the rhythmic beats of thousands of birds, bats, bugs, and frogs. I felt like I was hiding in the corner at a giant dance party, I stretched my arms upward and absorbed the moon, the stars, and the singing silhouettes of Palo Verde.

 

This iguana represents one of the many wild creatures around me.

 

After the rest of the people from my group passed by me with their flashlights, I danced. Not the typical dance from a club or a party but a joyful swinging dance because I am so glad to be exactly where I am dancing with the tropical party that may welcome me but most likely doesn’t care about my existence. Katie, my UMBC roommate who is currently studying abroad in Spain, has the same habit of dancing when no one else is watching. I think most people probably do to, but don’t let on about it.

 

A young Crested Cara rests on a branch in the shade.

 

This ides of March is a bittersweet moment because it means I am halfway through my time here. Why is life so fast?

 

The baby above will soon grow into an adult like this one. In Spanish it is called Quebranto huesos, which means “bone breaker” because it drops its prey from high heights.

 

Twenty-one years is a blink of an eye but it is also the time of all my memories. Ibit, a visiting professor from University of Vermont, called me a “young woman of the world.” I find the term striking.

 

Though I have scratched merely a fraction of the Earth’s surface, I am a young woman of the world. My Spanish could still use much improvement but I feel functionally bilingual, I’m able to identify a decent amount of birds and wildlife here, I can get an A on a 14 page (including graphs) economics paper that I wrote in one night (with the help of yummy coffee), and I have been able to share a lot of what I’ve seen and learned with you.

 

As someone who has never kept a diary and may end up graduating college without taking any English besides a bs technical writing class, sharing this blog with you has been extremely meaningful.

 

As a young woman of the world, I am startled by both how much there is left to learn, see, and do and by the amount of emotional baggage I already carry with me everywhere I go. I sit here in the dark of the tropical dry forest in hiking boots, a long sleeved T-shirt from Becky, and zip off pants. I write against my soggy banana paper notebook (which flew off the dock into the wetland this afternoon). I use no flashlight because I am waiting along by the waterhole in hopes of seeing a mammal come and take a drink. So far I have seen two white-tailed deer.

 

Even after spying the small deer drinking…

 

Boom! Crash!

 

Ha, after an hour of patiently waiting to see an animal that’s more exciting than the two deer, something large comes crashing down from the trees (potentially a Howler Monkey) and I bolt. Do you think Jane Goodall ever got scared and ran away? I was getting ready to tell you about my emotional baggage but that feels funny to do as my heart is racing and I laugh at myself. Oh, well.

 

No matter where I am my mind wanders back home to my friends and family; I wonder what they’re up to. I also wonder about the “what ifs?” and the “woulda, shoulda, couldas.” For my limited romantic experience, I spend way to much time second guessing relationship decisions. I also think about a friend who suffered depression and who I feel I let down and I think about what a shame it is that my Grandma lives by herself in a nursing home. It seriously bothers me how our elderly are treated in this country. I resolve that when I return to the states I will spend a week living out of my brother’s dorm in Gettysburg and visit her everyday because I cannot take for granted that she will always be there.

 

 

I sit writing close to this Senisa tree (Pithecellobium sama) that Brenna and I sat in earlier.

 

My other major anxiety is what to do with myself this summer and after I graduate from UMBC because I’m going to need to make some money and I want to do it in a fulfilling way.

 

This view shows you a bit more of the gorgeous Senisa tree which is used for fine furniture because it’s dark, rich color. (Brenna and I serve as a scale).

 

I bring up my personal worries to let future study abroad students know that when you go away to your host country, you start a new life for yourself, but you still carry with you all your previous anxieties and heartaches. Some of them hurt more sorely because in a foreign country you are impotent to do anything about such problems.

Our tour guide: I helped visiting professors by translating his Spanish to English.

 

Today I served as the translator for a tour at a cultural museum, it was so much fun! I really appreciated the fact that the guide spoke loudly and clearly. Something that surprised me was that he said that bamboo for homes was cut during the last phase of the moon because there is less gravitational pull. He said that during the last phase of the moon it is easier for women to give birth, better to sew seeds, and better to harvest. I had never heard this before – and I’m not quite sure I buy it.

 

Our guide told us that these ceramic roof tiles were traditional shaped by a part of a woman’s body – guess which part! I couldn’t figure it out at first.

 

The interior of a former Costa Rican President’s home.

 

After the tour of the historical home of a previous Costa Rican President, we learned how to make tortillas from scratch as well as a traditional fried dessert similar to an “elephant ear.” The only thing that we didn’t do for the tortillas was grind up the corn. I loved rolling the salty tortilla dough. I tried both the El Salvadorean method (taught by Karen) and the Costa Rican method. For the El Salvadorean method you make a wheel in your hands and the Costa Rican method is to spin the dough on the table and guide a round shape by cupping your hands. I made Karen promise that if we are both in Baltimore this summer we would make tortillas.

 

Brenna, Karen, and I model our tortillas before they are baked.

 

She bakes our tortillas. These museum workers were so sweet.

 

One of the ladies who worked at the museum wanted to know if there were any recipes in my culture that were passed down from one generation to another. I told her the traditional American was apple pie. I also explained to her what I donut was, but she was disappointed when I told her that most people buy donuts instead of making them at home. Now I feel like I should learn to make apple pie. Currently I only know how to make my Grandma’s White Christmas Coconut pie. Yum! So much of culture revolves around food!

 

The pastry is rolled thin before being fried in Crisco.

 

A museum display of traditional Costa Rican masks used for parades and festivals.

 

The front porch of the house I stayed at for my weekend home stay.

I’m really glad that I don’t have freckles because it makes it really easy to search for bed bugs. Yes that’s right. Bed bugs! Honey-sugar-lemon-ice-tea! I just finished my home stay and I contracted bed bugs! The bed I slept in last night may have been a little smelly but I think it was the longest, solid chunk of sleep of had my entire time here. I slept from 10:30 PM to 6:00 AM - amazing! It was so lovely to slowly awaken to sunbeams filtering in through the decorative wooden molding and screen along the ceiling.

Besides the bed bugs (which remind me of deer ticks) I had an absolutely wonderful experience which was completely worth the current full body loofah exfoliation I just endured. God bless Brenna for thoroughly examining my back and picking off the tiny bugs. Luckily I slept in long pants and long sleeves because they are (let’s be optimistic - were) all located around where my shirt met my pants.

Now that I finished my indignant rant on the dozen pin point size parasites that latched onto my hips, back, and thighs I’ll share with you the joys of a home stay.

I arrived at 9:00 AM in the morning, my most important parcels being a tattered Spanish-English dictionary, my beloved camera, and three packages wrapped in newspaper. My host “mom” was Miriam the same lady who two weeks prior, took me in and taught me how to make spinach tortilla soup with fresh cilantro. A group of five children guided me from the street to her home where I met her on the porch. Immediately after our greeting, I gave her one of the packages and the other two to two of the children. She unwrapped a container of Old Bay Spice, a twin named David opened an American flag notepad and a mini American flag, and his sister opened a bag a Hershey dark chocolate miniatures.

Sunday morning after a breakfast of fried plantains, fresh pineapple, gallo pinto, and a tomato and goat cheese sandwich on white bread we went to church. I didn’t really pay too much attention to the sermon besides when the priest said it is important to be true to yourself and when to stand sit and kiss people because I was so engrossed in people watching. When the choir sang, a few silent tears fell down my cheeks as I thought about my little brother simultaneously singing in a church in Nicaragua with his college choir. This is the first time he has left North America and I yearned to hear and see him and to know what he was thinking at that moment. I think another reason for my tears was that I was overwhelmed by the beauty of imperfection. There was a tiny, elderly women sitting in front of me in a homemade brown dress with a crooked spine and a middle age women who walked by with fat hanging off her arms. In front of me was an old man in a hat, his neck was weathered and leathery. We are all so fragile; I think that’s one of the things that makes the human condition so magnificent.

Surrounded by the Ticos I felt a little uncivilized because I smelled of lemon grass soap while every else was scented with rich perfumes. Because it takes so much extra brain power to understand the language, I tend to tune out words and focus more on my other senses such as the feeling of the wind blowing through the open church and the sound it makes as it rush past all the skirts and pants of the church goers. A lot of the architecture here is open to the sunlight, I really enjoy watching the flicker of light and shadow. Something I learned from this home stay is to never underestimate the communicative power of smiles, winks, body language, and grunts.

 

A view of the kitchen, as you can see in the top left corner, along the ceiling was a wooden mesh that gave the house great aeration and lighting.

 

Miriam, my host Mom, prepares coffee by pouring boiling hot water through a cloth filled with coffee grinds.� Yummy!

 

Miriam taught me how to fry plantains! Aren’t they gorgeous!

 

I don’t know why the caged bird sings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[My next project after Spring Break and traveling to Nicaragua is to spend a week surveying visitors in Poas Volcano National Park on their ideal picnic area because the current area is in a state of disrepair and the government has given the park $10,000 to spend on a new one. Before we survey visitors, we need to write up survey questions. My request to you is to give me ideas on survey questions, what you think a park picnic area should include, and any photos you have of good/bad picnic areas. Thank you!]

 

A view of Volcan Poas taken last week before the clouds rolled in.

Bus Observations

Razor wire topped fences

Cell phones and digital cameras

Old manual shift cars that spew emissions

Beautiful vistas, mountains, and beaches

 

 

HONESTY’S THE BEST POLICY: One thing our blog abroad blogger Jeff in Prague said in one of his first entries was that he was going to strive to be completely honest. So far, I don’t think I have quite done that. I have a tendency to be politically correct. So I’m going to try to give you the unrated version of my study abroad experience including poopy, machismo, El Pueblo, trash, roads, Spanish, equality, and SFS. (Hopefully, this little entry won’t hurt my chances for some import political office later down the road!)

 

 

POOPY: So here at the School for Field Studies, we love to talk about poop, pee, Dengue, Malaria, flatworms, and other potty talk. In fact, there is even a poopy scale from 1 to 10; 1 being liquid and 10 being so hard that you might as well grab a copy of War and Peace and go sit for a while. Many students suffered tummy bugs when adjusting to the diet of fresh fruit, vegetables, beans and rice.

 

But I’m a vegetarian with an iron stomach–not even college dining hall food can phase me–so I didn’t earn any good war stories. This sounds really strange, but I tested my stomach with hopes of a crazy reaction. (Note: I was the weird child who wanted braces, glasses, freckles, stitches, and a cast on my arm because I thought they were cool and I more importantly I didn’t have them). I purposely ate fresh fruit without washing it, ordered drinks with ice, and filled my water bottle up from a fountain at Braulio Carrillo National Park. No use. My stomach was fine…that is until I tried the fried, battered plantain. I bit into it and oiled oozed down my hand. I should have realized that was a bad sign, but I didn’t want to waste food. So a finished it. It tasted like vegetable oil. About a half hour later I felt queasy and had to make a quick trot to the communal bathroom.

Another thing about poopy; because of bad piping, we are not supposed to throw away any toilet paper. Instead, all the dirty toilet paper gets put in a plastic bin and then transported outside to a giant metal barrel for Jorge to burn. Back to diarrhea, it’s quite a distracting experience that makes it hard to focus on writing an Econ paper because of the frequent trips to the ladies room. On the 1-10 scale I think I had a 2.5. I feel like everyone should experience diarrhea in order to empathize to a small degree with the “400 children below age 5 [that] die per hour in the developing world from waterborne diarrheal diseases.”*

 

 

*Gadgil, A. 1998. “Drinking Water in Developing Countries.” Annu. Rev. Energy Environ. 23:253-86. (I can email you the pdf file if you are interested).

 

 

MACHISMO: Ah, Machismo; Great for self-image but kinda annoying. I think some Latino men hoot and whistle at anyone/thing that could potentially be female. I’ve got a big nose, stick-out ears, thick eyebrows, my clothes don’t match and I didn’t bring any make-up to Costa Rica, but that doesn’t matter. I have still heard plenty of cajoling. The best are the drive-by catcalls because it just sounds like a nonsensical noise maker. You’re supposed to just ignore it, but it is a culturally shocking and it bothers me because through the lens of my American culture it is very degrading and disrespectful.

 

 

EL PUEBLO: This nightlife center is like machismo cubed. What I left out in my entry on San Jose is that the guys there will go as far as you let them. They will grab you and try to clutch you close to them…I blush at trying to type anymore details. Essentially, if you are female and want to have a good time there you have to know how to say no and/or how to slap someone silly. Walking between the bar and the dance floor is always fun (sarcasm) because you turn around to slap whoever grabbed your tush and you have 4 faces smiling up at you so you don’t know who to hit. Personally, I can’t handle El Pueblo and I have no desire to return there. Two of my friends were robbed there and it is one of the few places where the fear of rape seriously crossed my mind.

 

 

TRASH: As you know, trash is an issue here. People don’t seem to care. I’ve seen people just drop their garbage in the street. It has been hard to restrain myself from rabid attack. Although, I don’t feel powerless because while at the Municipal Forest I picked up some trash and students and parents around me followed suit without me having to say anything. Indeed, actions do speak louder than words. I urge you to declare war on litter wherever you are!

 

 

In a later entry I’ll give you the lowdown on other topics such as roads, speaking Spanish, equality, and the School for Field Studies. For hanging in there and reading this, you get to see a slide show of pictures from beautiful Cahuita National Park.

 

 

Clockwise from left: Alex, Alli, Lizzie, Maggie, Lauren and I snuggle into soggy sleeping bags under a pavilion next to the beach under the pouring rain. It was the best music I have ever slept to. Steve took the pic using my camera.

 

So you probably want me to get to the part about environmentalists illegally camping by endangered Leatherback Sea Turtle breeding grounds and being mistaken as poachers. Yah, yah, I’ll get to it. Just be patient, first I have to tell you how we got there. The eight of us, Rachel, Steve, Lizzie, Alli, Maggie, Lauren, Alex, and I had decided that we wanted to go camping because it’s a cheap, exciting way to explore the country. Gerardo, our professor, told us about this wonderful, peaceful point off Cahuita so we decided it would be a fun place to go.

 

 

Four-striped Whiptails (Ameiva festiva) were all over the drift wood on the beach near our campsite. I used a guidebook in Poas Volcano National Park giftshop to figure out the species names for the Caribbean creatures.

 

In order to save time in getting there, we decided to try to catch a bus from alongside the road by Braulio Carillo National Park instead of heading 45 minutes to San Jose, waiting for a bus, and then riding 45 minutes back to the Braulio Carillo. The trick to our time saving strategy was figuring out how to get a bus to stop. Every time a bus came by, we would jump up and down to try and get the driver’s attention. The first couple bus drivers just waved at us and beeped their horns. I guess they thought we were just being crazy gringos. We did look pretty silly. Maggie had on a big, green poncho over her backpack, mat, and sleeping bag so she looked like a dinosaur. I think the bus stopping tactic that finally worked was to have Alex step out in front of the bus. (This was not an SFS approved action).

 

 

Giant piece of driftwood being weathered by the surf at Cahuita National Park.

 

We couldn’t get one of the buses heading to Puerto Limon or Cahuita to stop but after about 2 hours we finally got one heading to Guapilles to stop for us. There were no seats available so we had to stand for the duration of the bus ride. I felt a little rude because we were wet, dirty, and smelly and our packs hit against the seated passengers. Once we got to town we bought tickets for 4:30 PM to Limon, the point north of Cahuita. At the station, I bought a creamy, chocolate-peanut butter ice cream cone for 250 colones which is the equivalent of 50 cents. (Low prices are one reason why it’s great to study in a “third world” nation.)

 

 

These snails were on the dead tree pictured above in Cahuita along the Caribbean.

 

From Guapilles, we took a bus east to Limon and missed the last bus to Cahuita by 5 minutes. The ticket vender called up his friend, a 19 year-old mechanic with a van, to drive us to Cahuita. While waiting for his friend I noticed that the Caribbean definitely has a different feel. Reggae music was playing and there was a man with beautiful waist length dred-locks and another with a huge dred-lock filled leather hat. While waiting in the light drizzle, we were accosted by a swarm of cabbies eager to make a buck. It was a relief when the mechanic finally made it. Although his pot hole dodging was a little nerve-racking. When the mechanic dropped us off, a teenager offered to sell us ganja (sp?) to which we politely declined. We ate at Restaurante Tipica which is run by a Jamaican named Winston. The place had a great beach mural, the tables were all cross-sections of giant trees, and the lights hanging from the ceiling were enclosed in spheres of thin paper with dried flowers. I liked hearing Winston call me “lady;” it felt like when a Baltimore waitress calls you “hon.” For dinner, I had a salad and rice with vegetables along with a yummy, fresh guanaba (sp?) smoothie.

 

 

Alli lays out her wet clothes to dry on some driftwood. Everything was soaked by last night’s storm.

 

Winston told us that we couldn’t camp in the National Park but that he would let us camp in his backyard instead. As a generation that was raised not to trust strangers, we figured he was just looking for a way to make money. In our search for a taxi to the park, Steve talked to the kabob lady and she volunteered to take us. She drove us up into the park and beeped her horn at the ranger station. Nobody came out so we played games for a while under the awning of the ranger station. When the rain let down a little, we decided to check out the campgrounds and ended up being escorted back by the team of international researchers. The next morning at 10:30 PM Lizzie and Lauren were interrogated by Jorge and Carlos, MINAE (Costa Rica’s Department of the Environment) administrators who were distressed to find us there because no one had been allowed to camp in the park since 2004. They softened when the girls showed them the page in the 2005 Lonely Planet Guide that listed the park as a great campground. When they realized it was a sincere mistake they made us all breakfast for a mere $4 each!

 

 

The MINAE (Ministerio de ambiente y energia) rangers, Jorge and Carlos, prepared us a breakfast of beans & rice, eggs, pancakes that tasted like funnel cake, and delicious coffee. Qué suerte!

 

I was extremely confused by their kindness. Back home we would have been kicked out, no questions asked. I couldn’t believe that they let us stay. We had the most beautiful beach I had seen in my life all to ourselves! Quiet isolated beaches with coral reefs, lizards, butterflies, pretty shells, and black sand are heavenly. It felt like a dream.

 

 

A fallen coconut tree, that Steve, Alex, and I tried to grab coconuts from.

 

We hung out on the beach until close to noon and then we took a walk through the woods that parallel the Caribbean Sea. I’m getting sleepy and this entry is getting long so I will let my photos do the story telling from here on out.

 

 

A Central American Whiptail (Ameiva festiva) rests on the path that runs through the woods parallel to the beach.

 

Scary: This poisonous Golden Eyelash Pitviper (Bothriechis schlegelii) was sleeping in a tree close to our campsite.

 

A white-faced capuchin (Cebus cupucinus) tries to explore the contents of Lauren’s bag.

 

Before we reached them, a local guy practiced their English and said, “Hey girl, you want to see some monkeys?”

 

One of these white-faced capuchins touched my leg. I never thought I would ever shriek, “Get off me you bad little monkey!” to a real monkey!

 

The monkeys were close to Rio Perezoso which means “sloth river”- I’m guessing it got the name either for its velocity or the mammals it is home to.

 

Looking in holes is rewarding when you find cute crabs like this one!

 

A baby Howler Monkey clings onto his mother’s stomach as she swings from branch to branch. In the morning, the howlers sound like lions.

 

Bad news: After an unforgettable, exhausting weekend, I fell asleep on the bus ride back to San Jose. I wasn’t quite awake when I got off the bus so I accidentally left my Dad’s sleeping bag connected with a pink karabiner to Carrie’s air mat on the bus. No more sleeping outside in a hammock for me! Carrie, I am so sorry. I can either give you money or buy you a new one. All the rest of your gear is safe and sound. If anyone feels like sending me mail, a karabiner would be greatly appreciated! By the way, Katie seriously rocks for sending me the CD with happy music and postcards from Spain – and a major thank you to Eric, Lee, and Charlene for their awesome letters, and to my boyfriend Mike for the white-faced monkey stuffed animal.

(I tell you about what happened in Cahuita in my next entry – stay tuned for tomorrow!)

 

FRIDAY SCHEDULE

5:00 AM Pandilla-make breakfast & set out sandwiches

6:00 AM Depart for La Selva

9:30 AM Arrive at La Selva

Juan leads Discussion of Management

3 hour hike

Depart for Tirinbina (Private Reserve, lodging)

5:00 PM Edgardo – Macro invertebrate Lab Explanation

6:00 PM Dinner (Beans, Rice, hot veggies, salad, cheese, papaya)

7:00 PM Play with bats (I got to hold a nectivore!)

10:00 PM Shower-only a few bugs –yay!

10:20 PM Collapse and fall asleep instantaneously

 

 

 

This poison dart frog (Dendrobates pumilio) is less than an inch in size. These frogs won’t kill you if you touch them. However, you will not be a happy camper if you touch your eyes, nose, or mouth after doing so. They are poisonous because of their diet.

 

On Friday, we voyaged to the “Biologist Holy Ground,” La Selva Biological Station, a place listed in most biology textbooks. La Selva was established in 1954 by Dr. Leslie Holdridge as a farm dedicated to experimentation on mixed plantations. Located in the Caribbean Lowlands close to the Nicaraguan border, it covers 1,600 Ha (3,900 acres) of tropical wet forests and disturbed lands. A glorious 73% of area is primary Tropical Rain Forest!

 

 

I’m standing, clad in hip waders, in front of this giant Sura Tree of the genus Terminalia. Because the soil is very poor it has adapted cascading roots for structural support.

La Selva was purchased in 1968 by the Organization for Tropical Studies (OTS), a consortium of hundreds of Universities worldwide, and declared a private biological reserve and research station. It is used for 140 major research projects each year. A second purpose of this tropical rainforest area (in combination with Palo Verde tropical dry forest and Las Cruces Biological Research Station) is to make a biological corridor between the small reserves so that they don’t become biodiversity islands. Biodiversity islands are areas in which wildlife is isolated by roads, neighborhoods, farms, factories, and commercial centers. Without corridors between the land preserves, small parks can suffer local extinctions if rare species cannot find mates to breed with. When a habitat is isolated, even if the animals can find mates there is a high chance that they will become inbred in the future.

 

This Dendrobates auratus is another tiny species of Poison Dart Frog. To find them, you need to quietly look where the stilt root trees meet the ground. Though they are ity bity, their red color contrasts brightly with the greens and browns of the tropical rainforest.

Upon arriving in La Selva, we were greeted with the light music of tropical birds and hot, sticky air that smelled of lemongrass and citronella. In a cafeteria painted with a rainforest mural and decorated with research posters (one about LiDAR!), we enjoyed sandwiches and coffee (juice for me because I had just gotten off a caffeine drip from my previous all nighter spent writing my economics paper for which I earned a 90%).

 

 

Taken from bouncy metal bridge we crossed over the peaceful Pueto Viejo River after a snack. Below were some large fish, a tortoise, and a staff gauge to measure water height.

On the other side, the park manager gave us a power point presentation on the history and goals of the park. For 2006, La Selva has a $1.1 million budget (of which 37% is from National Science Foundation grants). This money covers the salaries and projects of the hundred staff members and administrators who care for the park and make it available for the 140 research projects occurring there each year.

You can smell this Collared Peccary (Taysassu tajacau) before you see it because it stinks like the roots it likes to munch on. We smelled/saw several of these which are called Saíno in Spanish wandering around.

 

Found within the park is a great deal of biodiversity:

Plants – 1937 species

Birds – 436 species

Mammals – 123 species (71 are bats –I got to hold one!)

Amphibians – 48 species

Reptiles – 87 species (56 snakes)

Fish – 43 species

Arthropods – a whopping 3,000 moths

Julia is holding this adorable insect she found. Too bad I don’t know what it is, but I think it is a type of katydid.

There are 17 kilometers of paved trails in La Selva. These are beneficial because they protect the land from erosion during the wet season and make it easy for researchers to access their research sites via bicycle. At first, I was disappointed to hear that there were paved pathways; but if they weren’t concrete, pedestrians would widen the path around all the mud puddles which would erode away the fragile soil.

Steve photographs a spider devouring an insect. We decided to veer off the path and doing some exploring after lunch.

It takes my breath away to be able to see so many animals just living their lives and being free. The only other time I have seen creatures like there are here are in cages in zoos and aquariums. This place makes me so happy because the animals can just be animals. The manager lamented that many tourists complained of not seeing big exciting mammals. But you are not guaranteed to see anything here. That’s what makes it so special when you do. If you want to see wildlife you need to be quiet and patient. There is so much living here but you have to slow down and open your eyes to be able to see it.

Poison Dart frogs make good fathers. This one carries a baby tadpole on its back from puddle to puddle. This one is a Dendrobates pumilio.

A problem La Selva faces is poaching. The reserve does not have many programs to connect the local community to the reserve so they do not feel ownership and the desire to protect it. They see lots of international researchers coming in with expensive equipment but they don’t see much personal financial benefit. Most of the researchers here don’t even know anything about the local town besides the name of the closest bar. It’s understandable that they can get completely lost in their work in such a beautiful place, but if park administrators and researchers want to prevent poaching they need to invest some time and energy in community outreach.

This palm frond is symbolic of how I feel about La Selva. Did you know that my name means “palm frond?”

After taking a hike through La Selva we stayed the night at Trimbina Rainforest Center which consists of 345 Hectacres of tropical rainforest and is sponsored by the Milwauikee Public Museum for ecotourism and children’s activities. The bus ride there was terrifying. We had to all get off and walk over a rickety wooden bride that cracked and bowed a bit when the bus crossed. After dinner a Mexican grad student named Lisa gave an incredible presentation on bats. She regularly catches bats in mist nets and records their mass, sex, and species. She showed us several nectivores, insectivores, and a vampire bat. You can tell what a bat’s diet is by looking at its eye size, ear, and mouth shape. I held a tiny nectivore!

SATURDAY SCHEDULE

5:30 AM Bird Watching

6:30 AM Breakfast & Make Lunch

10:00 Arrive at Braulio Carillo

10:30 AM Hike to Botarrania & Gonzales Stream Macroinvertebrate Lab

1:30 PM Group departs- 8 of us try to hail a bus to Cahuita (or general direction)

3:30 PM successfully stopped bus

Meg, Cheslea, and Emily look for aquatic macroinvertebrates.

Our experiment compares the biodiversity and species composition among the microhabitats of deep pools, shallow pools, deep rapids, and shallow rapids. The stream was gorgeous. There were lilac colored flowers and lots of butterflies. Many classmates learned the hard way that rocks are slippery when wet. I learned the hard way that hip waders can tear (but duct tape can fix them).

Yoshi holds a tadpole that will soon loose its tail and become (that’s right Pinnochio) a real frog!

Stream macroinvertebrates are often surveyed because they make great bioindicators. A bioindicator is a living thing that is used to determine the health of an ecosystem. Macroinvertebrates are good bioindicators because they are small, easy to sample, low in abundance, and most importantly, highly susceptibility to physical and chemical changes in habitat structure. To use them to measure how healthy an area is, we first need to understand them. Right now there is no official guide for tropical aquatic macroinvertebrates so a guide from North America is used instead. The purpose of our survey is to establish a baseline.

Zach stands in front of Sucio River, which gets its color from the iron it picks up from Volcan Irazu. It has a pH of 3-4.

After the survey, we had lunch on the rocks alongside the braided Sucio River. After lunch, when we were hiking back it started to rain. I love rain! The rain poured down my face and into my mouth and tasted sweet. I really felt enveloped in the hydrologic cycle. The rain poured down onto the leaves, dripped down the trees, soaked into the soil, where it would slowly travel until it made its way to stream. In the stream were pockets of life from fish to crustaceans to insect larvae to international college students. What a crazy beautiful world! I smiled to myself as I saw Steve and Rachel, an adorable couple, stand in the stream using a giant palm frond as an umbrella.

 

The rocks are colored by iron from Volcan Irazu upstream.