Eight days a month, four times a day, there is a small
parade on the only paved street that travels through a remote town in Borneo.
The town usually only likes to show up for two of the four parade time slots
(the 4:45am and the 6:15 pm time slots aren’t that common), so at approximately
10:30am and 3:45pm, the residents of this small town gather on porches, as they
anxiously wait for the parade to
begin. You may ask why in a town with
fewer than 30 families there is such a regular parade, and what does that
parade consist of. Well, the answer is
the local celebrity, also known as me.
To me the parade doesn’t seem very exciting, as it consists of me
walking back and forth from my house to the bridge where I dock my boat. However, to the local town children, they
still view this as the highlight of their day.
The children will often run out of the houses or stop their game to say
hello and wave to me. I hear many shouts
of greetings, “Hello Mister” (they haven’t figured out that the expression is
only used for men), “Hello bule” (bule is the general term used for Westerns
but actually means albino), and sometimes if I am really lucky, I even get a “Hello
Katie”. Usually, I will do my princess
parade wave “wrist wrist elbow elbow”, as I stomp down the street in my rubber
boats and camo pants. Recently though,
the parade has become interactive, with the children finally being brave enough
to run to the road and give me a high five. I keep waiting for the novelty of
me to wear off (how long does 15 minutes of fame really last), but 16 months
later, I still hold the position as the local celebrity.
Bekantan in Borneo
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Oh Poop!
There are certain things that happen that remind me that
science might be my correct path. In the
pressure of writing grants, collecting data, entering data, working on
publications, ect, sometimes the day to day (or should I say the data to data) of
it makes me forget the reason why I became a scientist in the first place. For me this week, it was poop that reminded
me. For those of you who know me from a
certain period of my life this statement shouldn’t surprise you. You were there when I was crowned poop queen
many months in a row. For the rest of you, yes there actually is something
called poop queen and yes I have been it, and yes poop reminded me why I
recently repacked up all my possessions to go live in a tent in the middle of a
tropical forest.
So to explain why I found poop so exciting, I need to take a
step back. Recently, I have been on this
path to try to figure out why proboscis monkeys sleep in certain trees and not
others. It has been in the back of my
mind since I started studying proboscis monkeys, but I began formally
collecting data on sleep tree selection, when sleep time was the only time I
actually saw the monkeys. Initially,
this sleep tree project was supposed to be a little side project. It was going to be a finite set of data that
was fairly easy to collect with fairly simple data analysis so I could write it
up quickly or present it at conferences (the dataset for my actually
dissertation seems anything but simple-if anyone knows how to deal with both
temporal and spatially auto correlated data- send me a message); however,
recently my sleep site project has been taking over (maybe there is a
correlation between how much Katie is not sleeping, and how much she is
thinking of primates sleeping). Most of
the literature to date state that most primates select sleep sites as a way
reduce predation risk. This seems like a
fairly reasonable assumption- primates have lots of natural predators (raptors,
snakes, wild cats, to name a few), and if one is going to have to turn one’s
back to predators (or in other words- close its eyes and catch some zzzs), it
is going to want to have some way of reducing the fact that it is sleeping prey. The problem with this idea is that no matter
what the data shows- people just wave their hands and say, “Oh it must be
antipredator behavior”. It could be, and
I am not saying it is not, but as good scientists we should be testing these
ideas and leaving the hand waving to the magicians of the world. So to make an already long story about poop –
a little shorter- I plan to to set up a couple of little experiments to test
some alternative hypotheses of why proboscis monkeys sleep in certain trees
(for those of you that are interested- some other ideas are thermoregulation,
anti-disease vectors, social interactions, or optimal foraging).
To do some of these little experiments, I needed some
proboscis monkey poop. Sure it sounds
like an easy thing to do, just get some poop, but with the fallen logs, dense
vegetation, and quick sand mud, I am having a hard time following the monkeys
in the forest. If one is sitting on a
boat and sees a monkey poop, it is a bit hard to then find said poop on the leaf
covered forest floor (it is so much easier when you are under the monkeys and
they just poop on your head). So you all
can imagine my surprise and excitement when I went to my favorite spot along
the river to bath, and realize that my bathing site is covered in proboscis
monkey poop. Half clothed wet Katie is
jumping up and down in the forest because she found poop. I spent the rest of my time bathing figuring
out what I wanted to do with this poop.
My assistants thought I was a little crazy when still dripping wet,
tangled hair probably accented with leaves (I was too excited to comb my hair
or properly dry off), I go directly to my tent and grab my latex gloves and a
zip lock bag; turn around going back into the forest proclaiming, “Saya temuka
kotoran bekantan! (I found proboscis monkey poop).”
In the end, my little experiment didn’t discover anything interesting;
however, finding a pile of monkey poop did allow me to rediscover my exciting
and joy of science.
Friday, June 1, 2012
The disappearing forest
I try to make my field adventures into funny stories,
but there are a lot of things about my life that are not so funny. As I am studying proboscis monkeys’ responses
to changes in their environment, I need to work in a place that is experiencing
those changes. This means that on a
daily basis, I am experiencing and recording the destruction of the habitat of
the proboscis monkeys. It is extremely frustrating that I am collecting all
this data, and realizing that the data will not do anything to save this
endangered species or the ecosystem that it lives in. Therefore, I am going to
share with you what I am seeing . First,
I hear a constant choir of chainsaws. The
sound of chainsaws has become as much a part of the choir of the forest as the
song of the gibbons, the chirp of the cicadas, and the honk of the
hornbills. Although I hear the chainsaws
everyday and see the piles of wood lined up along the river, the extent of the
logging didn’t really hit me until the loggers cut down some of the trees I
monitor. They cut down and damaged 20%
of the trees in one of my botanical plots.
Just to collect my monthly data now I need to climb over the fallen trees,
and try to figure out what tree stump goes with what tree tag. The area where the loggers cut down the
trees is in a small corridor that was initially damaged by giant forest fires
in 1997 and 2002. This area, after the
loggers came through, no longer contains any large trees- which for the
primates mean that food sources have been reduced, travel paths have been
reduced, and places to sleep have been reduced. To add insult to injury, a mining company
has started initial operations in my backyard.
When I brush my teeth on the back deck, I hear the bull dozer building
roads and plowing down a stand of trees to prepare the area for the soon
extraction of minerals from the soil.
Although the mining company has the potential to bring jobs to the area,
I believe the negative consequences will far outweigh the small paychecks and
unsafe working conditions for the local people (much like the palm oil
plantations- but that is a topic for another blog). A large mining operation will have an effect
on the local population of both people and primates. The people are connected to this forest as
much as the primates, they gather leaves to build their roofs, wood to build
their houses and cook their food, they bath in the river, and they fish in the
river. The mining will damage their
environment as much as the primates. Finally,
in the past couple of months, hunting has started. I now hear gunshots as I am walking transect,
have found way to many traps (and am afraid that I will end up in one of the
traps), and have seen dead animals being rowed downriver. I am not against hunting; however, the rates
that the animals are coming out of the forest are not sustainable. Although logging, destruction of habitat, and
hunting are some of the proximity causes extinctions of animals- they are not
the ultimate causes. I am always
challenged with what we can do to curb these proximate causes; however, to
really make a difference we need to deal with
the ultimate causes… the poverty, corruption, and globalization (to name
a few)…some reason I think knowing what the monkeys are eating isn’t really
going to help.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
The Saving Grace of Cemeteries
Pythons, crocodiles, jellyfish, venomous snakes, sun bears, tree
falls, religious extremists, and angry logger are just a few of the hazard in
my life; however, the most dangerous part of my job is actually walking on the
street in front of my townhouse. I have
said this to many people and they just laugh at me, but last night, I proved
that this is in fact true. I was taking
my causal stroll back home from my boat last night, when all of a sudden I saw
two sets of headlights coming quickly toward me. As I know my road is not wide enough for two
sets of cars, and I am currently walking on said road, I know I am in
trouble. The bus starts honking at me as
it is heading straight towards me. I
thought some words that aren’t appropriate for this blog, and jumped off the
road, but rather than just going into someone’s yard, there was a fence that
was impeding my escape from being flattened by the bus. I had just enough time to half climb up the
fence, and held on for dear life as I felt the gush of wind created by the bus
as it flew past me. After the bus passed
me, I jumped off the fence that I had climbed, and realized that I had tried to
scale the fence into the cemetery. So it
was the cemetery that saved me from my near death experience with the bus… and
in a week when I saw many men totting rifles, tracks of two crocodiles, and
angry male orangutans, it was the bus that almost got me.
Monday, April 30, 2012
The Turtle Goes on a Motorcycle
The turtle is back.
For those of you that have been reading this blog since the beginning,
you have probably read about the turtle. Basically, imagine a 100 lb person with a 50
lb giant backpack on their back, a 40 lb backpack on their belly, and a Timbuk2
bag thrown over their shoulder (I got rid of my giant black box, thankfully). Well after the success of having the turtle
take a train, I decided to have the turtle try to ride on a moped. For someone who is carrying around their
entire house on their back, the idea of having some additional transportation help
seemed like a great idea (key word… seemed).
Therefore, when my assistant asked if I wanted to be picked up at the
airport, I, of course, agreed. I often
sit and watch the traffic pass by my town and I am constantly amazed at how
many people and things Indonesians can put on a moped. Four people is completely normal (I’ve seen
up to 6), so is carrying building supplies (including 2 X 4’s), hundreds of
durian fruits, or anything else one might need to transport. Therefore, I didn’t think twice about putting
the turtle on the moped. We began our
trip right after sundown and it begin without any problems. The weight was well
balanced, and all I had to do was hold on and relax for the hour and half ride
to my town. Just when I was getting comfortable,
we started going a little faster- and realized that I my backpack had become a
giant sail that was pushing me backwards.
Not only was I holding up the 65 lbs on the back of this small bike (which
of courses shifted so all the weight was hanging off my left shoulder), I was
carrying my other pack like a football (it only had two laptops, a pair of
binoculars and my nice camera- nothing important if it went flying off the
motorcycle). I tried to shift to get
things to fall back in balance- but as I did the entire motorcycle lunged as my
assistant, who is not much bigger than I am, tried to balance the extra wiggly
weight on the back of his bike. As I was
holding on for dear life, and literally, it was probably for my life, I just
kept thinking that since my backpack was soooo big if I did fall off, maybe my
backpack would save me, the irony of my life. By the time we
got back to my house in my little village, I had no feeling in any of my body-
especially the two fingers I was using to hold on the whole time. In the lack of feeling of my body though-
there was a different feeling, the feeling of finally starting to be a little Indonesian. However, there was also the thought that after
getting stuck on a train and then almost falling off a motorcycle, I should
really learn how to pack lighter.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Worst Job in Science
Every year Pop Sci Magazine publishes a list of the “Worst Jobs in Science.” I usually read the list and scoff at the people who they have chosen. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. However, if I had a quarter for every time I have been pooped or peed on by a monkey, swarmed by annoying insects (many of them with painful stings), stuck in quicksand like mud, or been in close proximity to venomous snakes, I wouldn’t have to be writing grants. Therefore, it was a strange day indeed when I find someone’s whose job actually might be the worst job in science. The person who wins the award for me is Mosquito Man. Mosquito Man is studying how rates of deforestation influence the transmission of malaria and dengue through mosquito vectors. It is a very important question that has the potential to help thousands (if not millions) of people. However, the work required to collect this important data, sucks (pun intended). First of all, Mosquito Man sits in the forest all by himself from the hours of 5:30 pm to 6:30 am. To the person who likes to be asleep by 8pm, the hours alone sound horrible. However, may I remind you that he is not sitting in an office somewhere; he is sitting alone in the tropical forest. To understand what that means, let me explain to you the night he spent in my forest. First, the forest he was studying became flooded, therefore he was stuck on a 3X3 feet island of trees, as the crocodile infested waters surrounded his previous forest escape path. If that wasn’t enough, he happened to share that island with a 9 inch centipede. For those of you that aren’t familiar with the centipedes of Borneo, their bites are more venomous than many of the scary snakes that also live in the forest (and often visit him). However, that isn't even the worst part of his job. On a good night, he will be bit by a high number of mosquitoes. Remember, these aren’t your run of the mill Wisconsin mosquitoes that produce a nice itchy bite for a few days; these are tropical mosquitoes that carry such fun vectors of malaria (killed 780,000 people last year) and dengue. Since he is interested in the transmission of these deadly diseases, he is actually hoping the mosquitoes that are biting him are carrying these diseases. Talk about having conflicting views about your job. After hanging out with mosquito man, I think I am going to stick to primate research, and am happy to award Mosquito Man as the Worst Job in Science.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Top Ten Signs You Have Been in the Field Too Long
I am quickly approaching my one year anniversary of being in Indonesia. Although it has been a great year, I have recently realized that things that have become part of my normal routine and experience are not necessarily normal things for the normal person (I also do not know what a normal person is, but I am pretty sure that I am not normal). Therefore I devised a list of top ten signs that you might have been in the field too long.
10. You don’t leave the house without applying at least SPF 85 and wearing a big hat.
9. You pack everything from electronic equipment to clothes in dry sacs (even when going to the grocery store).
8. You shake out your pants and shoes before putting them on, because you never know who or what might be in them.
7. You think it is normal to have to stand on a tree to get your emails and text messages. It is also normal for Gmail to take over 5 minutes to load, even if you use the version for “slower connections”.
6. A toilet means digging a hole in the woods. You haven’t seen a sit down toilet that flushes in a couple of months. Showers are what you do with a bucket, often next to a river wearing a sarong.
5. You are so accustomed to wearing your binoculars every day, you often reach for them even when you are in town (when you start wear your binos in town, you know it is time to go home).
4. You forget that normal people don’t live in their tents. Sleeping in tents is a thing called camping, not real life. The same goes for not using your camping sleeping pad as an everyday mattress.
3. You can’t remember the last time a part of your body... hold on, I am scratching... didn’t itch.
2. It is an extremely special and rare event when you can drink beer, eat chocolate, and speak English.
1. Seeing amazing and unique things becomes so mundane and normal, you can’t come up with anything to write about for your blog.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)