Life in a ecological research station in the amazon
>===== Original Message From "Kyle Dexter"
Hello friends, family, etc.,
I suppose I should start off this email by apologizing for trying to talk
everyone into writing me letters earlier. Hopefully you were all informed
that, as it turns out, I could not receive letters where I was working
before you had expended any great effort to write me. I arrived in Cusco
today from the jungle and I will be in email contact for the next week or so
before I descend once again into the lowlands and out of contact. Thus, if
you wish to write me, please do so soon. I promise to respond to every
email I receive in part to make up for the impersonal nature of this mass
email and because I like my family and friends, and I miss them. I hope
everyone is well. A request for you all: if your addresses, emails, etc.
change or have changed while I am gone, can you email this account with the
changes? I would be much obliged. I have had scattered accounts of
people's lives and perhaps some have had scattered accounts of mine. Fill
me in with an email and I will attempt to do the same here.
The first two months at the research station were very busy. I devoted most
of my days to mapping trees and saplings in various plots near the station
and the evenings to pouring through various texts of tropical ecology.
There was not much time to explore my surroundings, but I used what little I
had. I will admit that at first I was a bit disappointed with the Amazon
rainforest. I had read of the cathedral-like structure of the forest with
large towering trees and little undergrowth. I imagined walking through
this park-like cathedral. Alas, the rainforest of Manu is not like that.
It is a chaotic jumble with vegetation everywhere and difficult to see past
20 meters much less to the top of the canopy, which does not even form the
cathedral I was expecting. Also, in the past, I suppose I had always
associated the natural places I loved with grand vistas. There aren't
really any grand vistas in the lowland rainforest. You are always in dense
forest and when you do manage to get above it, all you see is a flat green
carpet for miles in every direction. Those first two months were also when
there were various other gringo and peruvian biologists and assistants at
the station. At the beginning of November everyone left except for a
Canadian researcher and a family of Machiguengas, one of the local
indigenous groups.
As I said, I was "initially" disappointed in the rainforest that I had
dreamed about my whole life. However, it grew on me, particularly in the
months that followed as I had more time to explore around. I began to
accept it for what it was and acknowledge that childhood dreams don't often
match reality. The reality can still be spectacular though. The rainforest
represents in many ways the maximal possible resplendence of nature. There
is life everywhere, and yes, sometimes even growing on your skin (although I
think I have since shaken all the fungal infections I had). I constantly
hear monkeys crashing from limb to limb. They are curious creatures and
they probably spend more time watching me than I do them (of course this is
not the case in areas where they are hunted and flee at the first sign of a
human). While not every tree forms the roof of a cathedral, there are some
truly magnificent ones; some 60 meters tall with huge buttresses, others in
the most twisted shapes and forms. The insects, while often annoying
(particularly a very large form of mosquito that when crushed in
mid-consumption leaves a circle of blood on your arm 2 inches across), can
be beautifully colored or ingeniously structured to resemble the vegetation
and forest litter around them. An amazing variety of frogs and lizards are
to be found also sometimes brilliantly patterned or obscurely cryptic. And
plenty of snakes, although these generally shy away from humans. We did
have a scary week and a half stretch where we found 6 fer-de-lances in camp.
Fer-de-lances are a rather venomous snake, although there is some debate
as to the lethality of their bite. We suppose that a fertile female must
have come through spreading her phermones around and thus luring the males.
The research station is on a lake and there the wildlife watching is most
easy (unlike in the forest interior). A family of giant otters lives there
and can regularly be seen fishing. After seeing and hearing the baby otters
relentlessly screaming directly in their parents' ears for a piece of fish,
I begin to think that perhaps human babies aren't so bad after all. The
lake also displays caimans (alligator relative) and various bird life. The
Canadian and I made a camping trip to a clay-lick where macaws and parrots
arrived by the hundreds in the morning. Strangely, we only saw one actually
use the lick. I could attempt to expound on the biological reasons for
this, but I will refrain. As for jaguars, mountain lions, or equally scary
or exciting animals (depending on the person), I have only seen tracks to
date. I have found jaguar tracks along the trail in between the research
station and my tent. One night I may be lucky enough to see one on the walk
to my abode.
At the end of November, the Canadian researcher left, and then it was myself
and a Machiguenga family until I left two days ago (although I did see
occasional passers-through). They opened up to me more than they had in the
presence of many gringos, when they are rather shy. This took some time
with the mother and kids. The Machiguenga society is very male-dominated
and it not usually the "woman's place" to speak with a strange man, much
less a gringo. As for Machiguenga kids, they are often terrified of me.
When Machiguenga families would pass through and stay with us, the kids
would often run and hide when I entered the room. With the father, I tried
to find the delicate balance between boss and friend (I was in effect the
manager of the research station from November until my exit). I think I
succeeded, although I tended more to the latter than the former largely
letting him do as he pleased. We would share cooking duties. I would
usually cook rice and beans or something from cans. We did have some
potatoes and onions. When they cooked it would consist of yucca (manioc) or
platanos (kind of like a banana, but very starchy and not sweet), fish
caught in the river or lake (if the latter it was small little bony fish),
and wild fruits picked in the forest.
I passed the holidays in perhaps a rather untraditional manner.
Thanksgiving dinner consisted of instant mashed potatoes, a can of
vegetables, and a can of sockeye salmon that the Canadian had stashed away.
It was also her last night there and thus our farewell feast. Christmas I
passed alone, as the Machiguenga family was upriver celebrating the holiday
with their relatives. They often came and went leaving many days of
solitude in the jungle. There is nothing like quite like knowing that you
are the only living soul for many, many miles around (how many, I'm not
sure, it depends how close the nearest "un-contacted" people were) and the
only non-native for many more miles. I was used to the jungle at this
point, so it wasn't really frightening, more of a dream come true. However,
I do realize the limits to my sometimes solitary inclinations. I always
looked forward to hearing the children's voices as they arrived on the trail
from the place on the river where we keep the boats. On New Year's Eve, I
convinced the Machiguenga father to stay up with me past midnight although
it was admittedly difficult for me (my usual bed-time being ten or so). Why
I felt the need to stay up for New Years in a place where that arbitrary
start to the year has no meaning, I am not sure.
Alright, I figure I have written enough for now. Hopefully some have
actually made it to the end of this email. I wish everyone the best health
and happiness for the months to come. If you write soon I will respond.
Otherwise, the next email such as this can be expected sometime in early
May. After that I will be travelling for ahwile, and then I expect to
return to the states around mid-July. Until then,
Best wishes,
Kyle