Happy Christmas to me. I'm all alone at the house (others on vacation in Bangkok), but all the better to enjoy today's beautiful crisp fall-feeling, low 60's weather. It's interesting how on my day's off I want time to myself to sit and think and write and do nothing. Yet, I have all the thinking time I need in the forest but get bored because I am forced into the inactivity -- there is no choice/freedom involved. Here, today, at any time I can up and do something else. It makes a difference. Wichian and Lek both stopped by this morning to wish me a Merry X-mas and Kreua (our cleaning lady) wished me Happy New Year (well she was close! It's the thought that counts).
Ahhh, I am covered on my back and chest and waist by tiny tick bites. Some scabbed in the center and oozing -- or perhaps the tiny ticks are still embedded. I itch.
28 Dec 03
Held an hour-long English class this evening. It was a good class due to a fewer number of students and a fun activity. I had flashcards of verbs and everyone stood up and guessed/practiced the action. My initial idea was to play "Simon Says..." with them but the directions proved too complicated. Plus, they are just beginning to learn words like "sit, walk, stomp, jump, snap..." A handful of students brought their new pencils and pencil cases to class (my Christmas gift to them); they seem to appreciate the gifts. I don't know where I find the energy to be enthusiastic and engage the kids after a day of work, but I do. My over-exaggerated facial expressions must be a hoot! I really have tons of fun with them. It is good for me.
As expected I smiled and laughed (and tried not to gag) my way through dinner during a small party at Wichian's tonight. A special meal of minced duck complete with pools of blood and a side dish of small raw clams. I did good though, and had a bit of everything, but mostly kept my mouth full of sticky rice. As guys dipped their fingers into communal dishes, the conversation centered on my leaving in a month. It seems everyone knows my departure date now. One guy joked he would steal my passport so I couldn't leave and that I might as well just stay on and be the English teacher. It feels good to know that I am now accepted as part of their community. That means so much more than any classroom study-abroad experience on "cultural understanding."
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" Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance."
- from House of Leaves by Mark .Z. Danielewski
Angkor Wat
"Warning: Do not attempt to play Indiana Jones. The risks are real." Despite this warning on the first page of my travel guide Amy and I had a terrific time in Cambodia. We visited "Angkor" which consists of monuments located near the town of Siem Reap. The warning comes because only a few years ago several sites were unsafe because of mines. Even today around the complex toilets cost 500 Riel (about 4000 Riel to the dollar) -- it being unsafe to wander off trail into the bush because of the possibility of land mines.
Angkor Wat is the largest Hindu temple in the world. The temples were erected between the 8th and 13th centuries A.D. by the kings of the Khmer empire. Almost all temples include elements from both Hinduism and Buddhism. Towers and gateways are carved with representations of demons and gods. On walls you find interesting bas-relief of scenes of daily life. Looting has taken its toll though, and throughout the temples you can see marks where statues, especially heads, have been hacked off and taken for sale. We hired motorbike drivers for the three days and I am convinced balancing on the back of a motorbike, covered with red dusty grime, the wind in your hair, is the best way to explore the area. On the way to sites outside of the main temple circuits we drove past local villages (wooden thatched huts raised on stilts, front yard family rice paddies, and stands selling chunks of palm sugar wrapped intricately in leaves). Also caught a glimpse of small local markets and village women on wobbly bicycles riding to work while balancing huge stacks of firewood behind them.
Every day we tried to arrive before dawn and the crowd of tour buses. Unfortunately, this also meant we were the only targets for the vendors. During the day we purchased food and drinks from vendors that line every temple entrance. At first I was outraged at the cost, but I grew to embrace a different perspective very quickly. It is a tourist area, perhaps becoming the single most visited spot in SE Asia. So, it becomes very expensive very quickly, comparable to buying a meal in Disneyland. At least here it does help support local families.
The children were relentless though, shoving bracelets onto my wrists, wanting me to promise to have coffee at their stand ("or I will cry madam"), breakfast at another stand, to buy a shirt form this girl, and cloth from another one. I found myself repeating, "sorry sorry I cannot buy from everyone" and I got the line back, "sorry doesn't get you anything, you're just a cheap fly!" Had to laugh at that one. They are excellent mimics -- speaking Japanese, English, German, French, Thai, and whatever else they need to make a sale.
Two full days were adequate, with my favorite temple being not Angkor Wat, but Ta Prohm -- swallowed by trees. The visual information was plenty for me to absorb, I can't imagine having to keep up with the pace and running commentary of a bus-package tour guide. No, the motorbike was definitely the way to go to discover Angkor on our own. I only regret that I did not have time to explore real Cambodia.
Angkor Wat is the largest Hindu temple in the world. The temples were erected between the 8th and 13th centuries A.D. by the kings of the Khmer empire. Almost all temples include elements from both Hinduism and Buddhism. Towers and gateways are carved with representations of demons and gods. On walls you find interesting bas-relief of scenes of daily life. Looting has taken its toll though, and throughout the temples you can see marks where statues, especially heads, have been hacked off and taken for sale. We hired motorbike drivers for the three days and I am convinced balancing on the back of a motorbike, covered with red dusty grime, the wind in your hair, is the best way to explore the area. On the way to sites outside of the main temple circuits we drove past local villages (wooden thatched huts raised on stilts, front yard family rice paddies, and stands selling chunks of palm sugar wrapped intricately in leaves). Also caught a glimpse of small local markets and village women on wobbly bicycles riding to work while balancing huge stacks of firewood behind them.
Every day we tried to arrive before dawn and the crowd of tour buses. Unfortunately, this also meant we were the only targets for the vendors. During the day we purchased food and drinks from vendors that line every temple entrance. At first I was outraged at the cost, but I grew to embrace a different perspective very quickly. It is a tourist area, perhaps becoming the single most visited spot in SE Asia. So, it becomes very expensive very quickly, comparable to buying a meal in Disneyland. At least here it does help support local families.
The children were relentless though, shoving bracelets onto my wrists, wanting me to promise to have coffee at their stand ("or I will cry madam"), breakfast at another stand, to buy a shirt form this girl, and cloth from another one. I found myself repeating, "sorry sorry I cannot buy from everyone" and I got the line back, "sorry doesn't get you anything, you're just a cheap fly!" Had to laugh at that one. They are excellent mimics -- speaking Japanese, English, German, French, Thai, and whatever else they need to make a sale.
Two full days were adequate, with my favorite temple being not Angkor Wat, but Ta Prohm -- swallowed by trees. The visual information was plenty for me to absorb, I can't imagine having to keep up with the pace and running commentary of a bus-package tour guide. No, the motorbike was definitely the way to go to discover Angkor on our own. I only regret that I did not have time to explore real Cambodia.
It's a Girl (we think)!
Big news for the day, langur group PS has a new member, 1.2. That is female S1 has a new infant (her second, her first is 1.1). At Amy's announcement we were happy and giddy. There was a bit of disappointment that Amy got the first look at the orange fuzzy addition, but the other field assistants and I weren't working PS today. When I followed PS with Amy two days ago we did not see S1 with the group, so we are guessing she may have retreated to give birth on 4 December. This is such an event that Emily may visit PS tomorrow on her day off to try to photograph the new baby. Exciting because PS is the group Guillaume and I habituated starting last March. We know individual personalities and it will be interesting to observe group dynamics in the upcoming days.
Next Stop: Front Royal, VA
It seems very likely that I will have a job when I get back to the states at the Smithsonian Conservation and Research Center in Front Royal, VA! The main responsibilities of the internship focus on Geographic Information Systems (GIS) analysis. Melissa, the person from the Spatial Analysis Lab who originally contacted me, is involved in researching the decline of dry tropical forests in Southeast Asia. Her work plan objectives are currently to analyze the amount and distribution of the remaining dry forest in SE Asia through existing data sets from literature, collect mammal biodiversity and habitat data from the field, and develop a method with the potential for monitoring land cover change over time. My responsibilities will include some involvement in the GIS analysis (probably starting with data analysis), helping with GIS training courses, and miscellaneous "grunt" work.
So, basically I'll be doing data entry, making copies, and whatever else needs to be done to keep things running. But, it will be beneficial to work around people who are involved in current projects that apply GIS. GIS has popped up again and again in my reading and seems to have multiple applications and implications for biodiversity monitoring. I would like to learn first-hand how organizations use geographical applications to conduct conservation assessments. I'm looking for an introduction to GIS jargon and an overall feel for whether or not this is something I want to pursue in graduate school. Specific skills I hope to gain include data input into GIS programs, introduction to spatial analysis techniques, and habitat mapping (that could extend to habitat selection, the spread of invasive species, or the impact of land cover change). I am extremely eager to learn these skills and feel I can do this better through hands-on experience on a project rather than case studies in a classroom course.
Who knows? Maybe this is the "jumping off point" I've been waiting for. On the flip side, I was looking forward to spending time at home. Now, I may have only two weeks after I come home from Thailand before I fly off for three months in Virginia of all places. But, isn't that what I wanted, to explore GIS to nudge along my grad. school decision?
So, basically I'll be doing data entry, making copies, and whatever else needs to be done to keep things running. But, it will be beneficial to work around people who are involved in current projects that apply GIS. GIS has popped up again and again in my reading and seems to have multiple applications and implications for biodiversity monitoring. I would like to learn first-hand how organizations use geographical applications to conduct conservation assessments. I'm looking for an introduction to GIS jargon and an overall feel for whether or not this is something I want to pursue in graduate school. Specific skills I hope to gain include data input into GIS programs, introduction to spatial analysis techniques, and habitat mapping (that could extend to habitat selection, the spread of invasive species, or the impact of land cover change). I am extremely eager to learn these skills and feel I can do this better through hands-on experience on a project rather than case studies in a classroom course.
Who knows? Maybe this is the "jumping off point" I've been waiting for. On the flip side, I was looking forward to spending time at home. Now, I may have only two weeks after I come home from Thailand before I fly off for three months in Virginia of all places. But, isn't that what I wanted, to explore GIS to nudge along my grad. school decision?
Little Sharks
My day off and I spent it in bed curled up in the fetal position. I am sick again, but when I finally got up this morning I discovered Amy came back from the field early with the same food-poisoning/bacterial symptoms. The expected intestinal cramps, gurgling, and as soon as I eat a little bread or sip a little water out it comes. We both got out the Cipro. Tomorrow I’ll have to show up to dinner and attempt rice or I’ll have the whole sanctuary coming to check up on me.
29 Nov 03
Update: my stomach flu lasted only four days after three of the five of us got sick. I’m back to eating the spicy dinner meals.
Tonight’s English class was more like daycare. The only English we got through was “Today is...” which only two students copied. Anyway, so they weren’t focused and I thought I could “cheer up the mood” by giving them monkey pictures to color. I didn’t think that I wouldn’t be able to tear them away. They grabbed at the pictures like sharks at an open wound. After they dived into the markers I couldn’t even interest them in the primate picture book. I couldn’t even get them to repeat “gibbon” and rhesus macaque,” much less write the names. At least I got “ Goodnight” in on the way out. And, they are very well mannered otherwise, putting away all the binders and markers they used.
30 Nov 03
The leaves have fallen here, crisp off the trees and it is a brisk 50F in the early morning. There was no simultaneous color burst though, it is too warm for that. Instead, the leaves simply dried out and fell—almost a non-event save for the crunchy carpet that now litters our trails. We spent most of the morning pushing through dense difficult undergrowth, me trying to keep pace with Wichian (who was trying to keep pace with the langurs) as I also scanned for snakes, bristly caterpillars, and the other numerous small dangers that are easily run into when bushwhacking. Our un-habituated group, PB, spent the day inside the Tpop loop where there are no trails, making them a difficult follow. At noon, after losing a group of ten, we heard an adult male double bark 100m to the west. Wichian and I went charging, nearly running in the direction of the sound, but only found the sole male when we arrived. Crunch, crunch, crunch, every movement an advanced warning for hiding langurs. I’ve tried tiptoeing on the balls of my feet, I’ve tried keeping to the outside edges of the soles, careful to step in areas with the most dirt showing through—all futile attempts.
29 Nov 03
Update: my stomach flu lasted only four days after three of the five of us got sick. I’m back to eating the spicy dinner meals.
Tonight’s English class was more like daycare. The only English we got through was “Today is...” which only two students copied. Anyway, so they weren’t focused and I thought I could “cheer up the mood” by giving them monkey pictures to color. I didn’t think that I wouldn’t be able to tear them away. They grabbed at the pictures like sharks at an open wound. After they dived into the markers I couldn’t even interest them in the primate picture book. I couldn’t even get them to repeat “gibbon” and rhesus macaque,” much less write the names. At least I got “ Goodnight” in on the way out. And, they are very well mannered otherwise, putting away all the binders and markers they used.
30 Nov 03
The leaves have fallen here, crisp off the trees and it is a brisk 50F in the early morning. There was no simultaneous color burst though, it is too warm for that. Instead, the leaves simply dried out and fell—almost a non-event save for the crunchy carpet that now litters our trails. We spent most of the morning pushing through dense difficult undergrowth, me trying to keep pace with Wichian (who was trying to keep pace with the langurs) as I also scanned for snakes, bristly caterpillars, and the other numerous small dangers that are easily run into when bushwhacking. Our un-habituated group, PB, spent the day inside the Tpop loop where there are no trails, making them a difficult follow. At noon, after losing a group of ten, we heard an adult male double bark 100m to the west. Wichian and I went charging, nearly running in the direction of the sound, but only found the sole male when we arrived. Crunch, crunch, crunch, every movement an advanced warning for hiding langurs. I’ve tried tiptoeing on the balls of my feet, I’ve tried keeping to the outside edges of the soles, careful to step in areas with the most dirt showing through—all futile attempts.
Thermoregulation
We were like lizards this morning, searching out pools of sunlight to warm ourselves. It has been feeling downright cold in the mornings, yet I'm sure the temperature still hovers near 60F. The problem is we rapidly hike in to langur sleeping sights and end up sweaty. Because it is still dark, we sit and wait for visible movement. We sit and wait and our sweat evaporates and we get chilled.
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"At the gathering Bacon asked why dance? I retorted, Why paint? He dragged on his cigarette and said painting was the language he would give his soul if he could teach his soul to speak. Yes!" From DANCER by Colum McCann.
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"At the gathering Bacon asked why dance? I retorted, Why paint? He dragged on his cigarette and said painting was the language he would give his soul if he could teach his soul to speak. Yes!" From DANCER by Colum McCann.
Interview Disaster
Grrrrr...pent up annoyance and anger at myself. In October I applied for a Smithsonian Conservation GIS Internship position. Specifically, I am interested in learning the skills to map habitat for endangered species and learn the application of Geographic Information Systems and remote sensing in everyday management situations. I was supposed to be interviewed by someone from the Smithsonian Conservation Center who was interested in me in the first place because I am currently in Thailand and may be able to collect data for her. She is mapping the extent of the dipterocarp forest (we have patches of it in the sanctuary and around our study site) to look for possible unknown populations of endangered Eld's Deer or possible sites for reintroduction.
The interview was a disaster. I had to take a day off of work, borrow Carola's cell phone, and drive 45min. on the motorbike to the sanctuary entrance where there is usually good reception. It was a cold drive (I actually wore long underwear and two fleece jackets and gloves). We connected, I emailed my interviewer the correct time difference, however, the phone connection was horrible. I think she could hear me, but her voice was fragmented and static and electronic. Not the way to conduct an interview. They had over 100 applications for the position and I knew I needed to stand out way above and beyond, so I was nervous. This was not helped by the poor phone connection. We got through one question, "So, tell me about your current work." My response was horrid. I started out the answer speaking too quickly and was too broad before I jumped to disjointed thoughts about how I find my current work tedious and instead think GIS would better fit my interests and computer skills. After that I could barely make out her questions and so she agreed to email me the questions, but I won't be checking email again until the 24th! Off to a bad start, but keep your fingers crossed.
The interview was a disaster. I had to take a day off of work, borrow Carola's cell phone, and drive 45min. on the motorbike to the sanctuary entrance where there is usually good reception. It was a cold drive (I actually wore long underwear and two fleece jackets and gloves). We connected, I emailed my interviewer the correct time difference, however, the phone connection was horrible. I think she could hear me, but her voice was fragmented and static and electronic. Not the way to conduct an interview. They had over 100 applications for the position and I knew I needed to stand out way above and beyond, so I was nervous. This was not helped by the poor phone connection. We got through one question, "So, tell me about your current work." My response was horrid. I started out the answer speaking too quickly and was too broad before I jumped to disjointed thoughts about how I find my current work tedious and instead think GIS would better fit my interests and computer skills. After that I could barely make out her questions and so she agreed to email me the questions, but I won't be checking email again until the 24th! Off to a bad start, but keep your fingers crossed.
Pig Head Offering
Chewing on springy bits of cartilage from a pig snout and downing shots of 80 proof LaowKaow for the sake of a Thai good luck ceremony doesn't make either go down any easier. Today a group of 45 plus people congregated at the sanctuary shrine hidden in a cluster of trees in the back field. Since moving into our new house we have had minor incidents of bad luck: a leaky roof, a tree falling on the truck, restless nights, deer in our office, etc. We were advised to make an offering to appease what was described as a "forest spirit" of types. A pig head offering. No, luckily this didn't require a sacrifice, but a pre-cooked head. It is not an actual Buddhism belief, but the people incorporate animism or the idea of "spirits" into their rationalizations of luck and are quite serious about offerings. Women brought plates of sweets, fruits, sticky rice, pretzels, chicken, noodle dishes, peanuts, liquor, and cigarettes to spread out below the shrine (which looks like a glorified bird house with miniature people placed inside and plastic flowers hung on the corners). Incense sticks were lit and placed in each dish and stuck in the pig head -- yes, it was literally an entire head on a silver platter. Even the cigarettes were lit for the spirit. Once everyone was settled a gentleman led us in a short "prayer" of thanks and we waited the appropriate duration for the "spirit" to have his fill of the offerings. Eventually, when they have decided enough time has passed, everyone shares in eating the leftovers. To participate I consumed my share of pig and alcohol (this was at seven in the morning!) and the rangers were impressed because they know I am strictly a Coca-Cola girl at the parties. The entire ceremony lasted a bit over an hour and had an informal but solemn feel. I'll let you know if our luck changes...
Sambar Surprise
Apparently Sambar deer can jump -- through windows! Before leaving for a week in Bangkok I put many things in the laundry to be washed, so everything would have a week to dry and be fresh when we got back. Clothes, sheets, my blanket, blanket cover. At the last minute I decided to throw in my sleeping bag thinking maybe our cleaning ladies could help alleviate the horrible mildew smell. Our clean dry laundry is folded and piled in the office for us to pick up. The night before we arrived our resident Sambar deer got into the room through an open window. The doors were closed and she went frantic crazy because she couldn't escape. Peed everywhere: the walls, on our magazines, books, and of course, the pile of clean clothes. Guess what was on top of the pile? My sleeping bag. Wonderful. Just a little wrinkle. See, we never get too bored here.
Today Amy (a grad. student from Stony Brook who is checking out the field site for two months as a possible site for her dissertation work) and I worked a morning shift of searching for group PS from 5:30 until noon. I like the eight langurs of the group PS. I watched their transition from being completely skittish in February to now coming within a few meters of us. The infant which was born about three months ago used to be watched closely and hidden by his mother. Now, he is bigger, turned all gray from his previous blaze orange, and she allows him to play wide open for us to see. I think I was the first person to spend a full-day following the group. I know I was first to draw a complete description for all of the individuals. We found them early this morning because the adult male was nice enough to double bark, signaling the group location.
Well, even though I tried to make funny faces through my rendition of "If You're Happy and You Know It Clap Your Hands," I don't think the class will be requesting that song again any time soon. I can't sing. I did try, but that just got me a few odd looks. Unfortunately, I'm sure the entire sanctuary heard me as well since our lessons tend to get boisterous. I had a terrific class tonight of 12 students (despite them coming a full HOUR before the planned time). They were attentive and eager throughout (maybe because we haven't had class for almost two weeks, or maybe because they are getting used to only me as teacher). We went through my prepared cards for learning, "I, you, he, she, they, we" much quicker than I expected. They liked the repetition and tongue-twistedness of my pictures depicting a girl and a woman: the girl saying, "I am a girl. You are a woman;" the woman saying, "I am a woman. You are a girl." The words seemed familiar to all of them but I think it was good -- gave them confidence that they have learned English at school. They even sat through learning a few shapes. They like to repeat words "con diao" (individually when we go around in a circle). After we got though my planned lesson we still had a half hour left. We filled it by singing songs -- everything we have taught them so far (they now love the hokey pokey) and they taught me a song with the days of the week and something about a large elephant and a small chicken. Then I was thinking, um...now what? Ok, "wat pop" (draw a picture). Today was letter "L" for lion. A success. Now, if only I could learn the Thai equivalent of everything I teach them...
Today Amy (a grad. student from Stony Brook who is checking out the field site for two months as a possible site for her dissertation work) and I worked a morning shift of searching for group PS from 5:30 until noon. I like the eight langurs of the group PS. I watched their transition from being completely skittish in February to now coming within a few meters of us. The infant which was born about three months ago used to be watched closely and hidden by his mother. Now, he is bigger, turned all gray from his previous blaze orange, and she allows him to play wide open for us to see. I think I was the first person to spend a full-day following the group. I know I was first to draw a complete description for all of the individuals. We found them early this morning because the adult male was nice enough to double bark, signaling the group location.
Well, even though I tried to make funny faces through my rendition of "If You're Happy and You Know It Clap Your Hands," I don't think the class will be requesting that song again any time soon. I can't sing. I did try, but that just got me a few odd looks. Unfortunately, I'm sure the entire sanctuary heard me as well since our lessons tend to get boisterous. I had a terrific class tonight of 12 students (despite them coming a full HOUR before the planned time). They were attentive and eager throughout (maybe because we haven't had class for almost two weeks, or maybe because they are getting used to only me as teacher). We went through my prepared cards for learning, "I, you, he, she, they, we" much quicker than I expected. They liked the repetition and tongue-twistedness of my pictures depicting a girl and a woman: the girl saying, "I am a girl. You are a woman;" the woman saying, "I am a woman. You are a girl." The words seemed familiar to all of them but I think it was good -- gave them confidence that they have learned English at school. They even sat through learning a few shapes. They like to repeat words "con diao" (individually when we go around in a circle). After we got though my planned lesson we still had a half hour left. We filled it by singing songs -- everything we have taught them so far (they now love the hokey pokey) and they taught me a song with the days of the week and something about a large elephant and a small chicken. Then I was thinking, um...now what? Ok, "wat pop" (draw a picture). Today was letter "L" for lion. A success. Now, if only I could learn the Thai equivalent of everything I teach them...
Diaryland
Bangkok, Thailand. For 40 baht per hour I'm slouching into an Internet cafe chair as kids stare at my multiple infection of insect bites. This is my first post. I'm trying out a weblog type setup using the free DiaryLand service. The idea is that this will be easier for me to add news updates. Eventually, when I return to home base, I hope to link these entries to my personal webpage. In the near future I will be reporting from a gaming Internet cafe within a shared corner garage of a diesel engine repair shop in Chum Phae.
Something Fishy
I finally have two days off after working by myself doing transect for three days. Transect days end up being very long because of the amount of walking at a timed pace and constant searching. Luckily it rained only after I finished, otherwise I would have had to wait for the rain to stop before I could commence walking the transect. Since no one was around I was really really tempted to stay in bed instead of waking up at 4 am. But, I couldn't ignore the transect. I did realize that when I was out walking that it is nice to be up early and appreciate the sunrise, calling gibbons, smell after the nights rain. Working alone makes the forest seem all the more vibrant and towering. I do like to work on my own sometimes...I carry defense spray and a radio. I realized it probably wasn't smart to do the transect alone with everyone gone, but like I said, I feel like the entire community is watching out for me. In the evening two separate people stopped by to turn on the generator for me. Wichian thought I would hurt myself trying and said girls shouldn't do that sort of thing. Well, I showed them and turned it on myself before they arrived! Unfortunately, that also meant I had to turn it off myself, which ended up being a walk in the pouring rain down the slick slippery path crawling with leeches.
I taught the English class by myself for the first time tonight. I prepared some flash cards this morning, but the lessons end up being rather spur of the moment anyway because it is difficult to tell ahead of time how well the kids will listen. We never got to the flashcards. We did the usual "Today is Friday, September 19th, 2003" and then completed pronunciation of the remaining six letters of the alphabet (and vocabulary words) that we needed to get through. They get easily bored with that though because most of the children can read, but there are a few younger ones, so we still have to start with the basics. Next they wanted to draw a picture (usually indicates the end of class) or sing a song. I tried the "hokey pokey" because we've been teaching them body parts. It went ok, but they couldn't really sing the complicated words. Then we wrote some key words like left, right, in, out, and shake. I wrote the whole song for the older kids to write down, but they groaned at the length. We are going through the alphabet drawing pictures for each letter. Tonight was the letter "j" for jewelry.
At dinner, Batong invited me to sit with her and eat. That was nice, but also forced me to eat her food instead of pick at it like I usually do. Dinner was an egg omelet with strips of onion insides. Yucky yuck, but I forced a quarter of it down. Batong asked if I eat fish and I replied yes without thinking and with a smile to be polite. Well, she brought me out my own full fish -- head, fins, guts, scales, everything. I don't know how much the Thais eat or how they go about it, but I picked in among the ribs and bones for a few white pieces and pulled off the skin and scales. I thought I made a good dent in it considering it looked and tasted disgustingly fishy.
I taught the English class by myself for the first time tonight. I prepared some flash cards this morning, but the lessons end up being rather spur of the moment anyway because it is difficult to tell ahead of time how well the kids will listen. We never got to the flashcards. We did the usual "Today is Friday, September 19th, 2003" and then completed pronunciation of the remaining six letters of the alphabet (and vocabulary words) that we needed to get through. They get easily bored with that though because most of the children can read, but there are a few younger ones, so we still have to start with the basics. Next they wanted to draw a picture (usually indicates the end of class) or sing a song. I tried the "hokey pokey" because we've been teaching them body parts. It went ok, but they couldn't really sing the complicated words. Then we wrote some key words like left, right, in, out, and shake. I wrote the whole song for the older kids to write down, but they groaned at the length. We are going through the alphabet drawing pictures for each letter. Tonight was the letter "j" for jewelry.
At dinner, Batong invited me to sit with her and eat. That was nice, but also forced me to eat her food instead of pick at it like I usually do. Dinner was an egg omelet with strips of onion insides. Yucky yuck, but I forced a quarter of it down. Batong asked if I eat fish and I replied yes without thinking and with a smile to be polite. Well, she brought me out my own full fish -- head, fins, guts, scales, everything. I don't know how much the Thais eat or how they go about it, but I picked in among the ribs and bones for a few white pieces and pulled off the skin and scales. I thought I made a good dent in it considering it looked and tasted disgustingly fishy.
Elephant Encounter
I’m busy struggling with the tedious nature of working long hours in the forest every day, but there is still some excitement: After six months I have finally seen my first WILD Asian Elephant in the forest. I was working alone. A constant light rain all day had not left me in a cheery mood. I found my langur group early, but they were 50m distant and we sat all day in the rain. As the rain drops finally slowed I took off my backpack and set down my poncho and umbrella. I left the umbrella open to dry, a big shiny silver one. At 4pm I was cold and wet and the langurs were visible only as balls of fur, but not moving and not close enough to practice identifying individuals. I was seriously considering up and going, but I told myself it stopped raining and I had already put in 10 hours so I could wait 2 more until dusk. 4:20 the langurs started to get active and I expected them to travel so I turned to get my bag. An elephant was obliviously walking and snorting and eating down a perpendicular trail, a visible 15m from my location. I thought if I stayed still he would just keep walking past me down the trail. As his shape materialized, the ears, the tusks, I slowly moved my body behind the nearest tree (which unfortunately turned out to be only about 10 inches around) and froze! The elephant stopped and walked right toward me, but his focus was on the umbrella. I was so intrigued by his analyzing this foreign object in the forest that I stood and watched as he walked even closer still. The male was now less than 15 feet directly in my line of sight, no bushes blocking the view, nothing separating us except my measly tree. No kidding, I'm not exaggerating the distance, I actually went back and found our footprints the next day and measured, only 15 feet between us! As the elephant reached with his trunk to the umbrella my brain suddenly jolted and screamed "what are you going to do if he come to investigate you next!" So far he hadn't noticed me, but I could just imagine him glimpsing the shine from the whites of my eyes or something and snorting and charging. I had no where to run through sloppy slippery mud and a tangle of roots around me. I slowly reached for my defense spray figuring it could slow him down if he did charge and I didn't want to make sudden movements. Of course, the spray was on my belt which was now under my rain jacket. As I rustled the jacket aside I shifted my weight, making a sucking sound in the mud. The elephant looked up directly at me, turned up his trunk, gave a little trumpet, turned, and ran off. He looked a bit confused and scared, seeming not clear if there was danger. But I guess he figured better safe than sorry, and it meant I could breathe again. Walking through the forest, the elephant seemed peaceful going about his business. I could have watched him for hours, but there is also an aura of power and strength surrounding them. Truly awesome. I was stupid to allow him to get as close as he did. Yet, I feel I did the correct thing in freezing instead of running. I think it is best not to spook something that could outrun you anyway. I wonder if they really would be so curious as to come up and check a person out ...
Sticky Rice
Nothing much as far as an update at this end. I'm finally getting over my flu, so I'm back working in the forest. Still the same routine everyday, walking around from 5:30 am in the morning until we find a langur group and then trying to observe them for the day. I've been working many days and long hours to make up for the time I was out. We're in the rainy season now, so I usually wear my rubber boots to schlep through all of the mud. This makes crossing high rivers easier, but the soles are slippery and I mostly end up sliding down some hill and getting covered in mud anyway. It usually rains from one to four in the afternoon if it doesn't rain the night before. Most of my mornings start out extremely frustrating because I can barely see to walk...my glasses always fog over because of the humidity. My wash basin has algae looking growth in it and my door is fully covered with mold! I am seriously starting to wonder if any of the clothes I brought with me will be salvageable by the end of my stay. I can barely stand sleeping on sheets and a pillow and sleeping bag that smell so horribly of mildew. I'm afraid my room is going to start growing strange little creatures! Our newest hobby around the house is cooking kao nee-o (sticky rice) to take for lunches. News spread around the entire sanctuary in one evening that the farang (foreigners) cooked sticky rice. They couldn't believe it because usually Westerners dislike the consistency. If you are unfamiliar with it, it is different than white rice. The rice is indeed sticky, enough so that you can grab a handful, scrunch it into a ball in your hand and dip it in sauce to eat, but not sticky enough to cling to your hands (if that makes sense). Well, at least it is not supposed to be that sticky....a few of our batches have not come out quite right and everybody seems to offer different opinions on what we are doing wrong. It is a small community and gossip travels quickly. Everyone at every time knows what we are up to. Some of the other assistants get irritated that we live under constant inspection, but I find it rather amusing to be a novelty.
Bus #68
I'm just wrapping up a two-week visit from my mom and grandmother. We spent three days in Bangkok checking out the major touristy temple attractions and then moved on to Chiang Mai, northern Thailand, for five days. Chiang Mai is a major shopping area with hilltribe handicrafts, jade, and ceramics, and silks. There was a huge bustling night bazaar within walking distance of our hotel and we had fun looking for buys and treasures. The highlight of the trip for me was a one-hour Longtail boat ride up the Mae Kok River to a Karen hilltribe village. The longtail boats are common on Thai waterways and are propelled by a diesel engine mounted on a long shaft that is swiveled for steering. The Karen are the largest hill-tribe group in Thailand and come from Burma and China. It wasn't particularly fun to be greeted by swarms of kids hawking cheap bracelets and weaving, and this village even made money charging 10 baht for the bathroom, but from there we left on a two hour elephant trek. Rode through lush green hillsides with misty mountains in the background and bright green squares of rice fields. I did a poor job of timing my photos between jarring jerks of the walking elephant. Mom and I rode together in a basket on the back of our elephant, while our "driver" sat on the elephant's head and nudged his ears to direct him. Our elephant, 34 yr. old Poo Wong, stopped often to grab and munch bamboo and sometimes the stops provided good photo ops. Also made it up to the golden triangle, where the Mae Kok River flows through the borders of three countries: Thailand, Laos, and Burma. Basically a scenic outlook.
Even my return bus trip back to the nearest town to the sanctuary turned out to be more of an adventure than expected. Today was my first time going FROM Bangkok to Chum Phae and my first time traveling on the bus alone. I arrived at the bus station at 10, an hour wait. I had no idea of boarding procedure, but remembered that the lady who sold me my ticket said something about #68. I sat down in the terminal to take in the surroundings. I was overcome with a sheer sense of being assaulted by sensory overload. 100 or more back-lit numbered booths surrounded the interior. I saw lists of 100% Thai script as my eyes scanned looking for any English. Quickly I zeroed in on the word "Information," but of course the booth was not occupied. I didn't hear any announcements, but in most airports or bus stations it is a struggle to hear and try listening for a departure in Thai. At 10:30pm the T.V.'s shut off and people were sleeping in the chairs. I got a bit nervous because no one seemed to have any luggage. Phones were ringing and booth attendants sat looking bored. I sat planning my next move. I frequently glanced at window #68, but it remained dark with no attendant. What to do? Spotted a sign for departure platforms and I lugged my backpack up and on to investigate. It appeared to be a huge field of parked buses outside. I didn't even know what type of bus I was looking for. I figured I had my number, 68, and maybe it was the bus platform not another ticket window, so at quarter to 11 (departure time of 11) I decided to wander to the buses. Previously, on the way to Bangkok when we looked for our bus 10 min. before departure they told us we were much too early. So, I figured 15min. was plenty of time. I found a pillar with #68, things were looking promising at that point, until the lady looked at my ticket and said, "rot bpai leeo." That Thai I understood: "the bus already left." What the heck?! I thought the departure wasn't until 11, but I didn't know how to say all that in Thai and just looked up at the lady all concerned. She did some talking into her radio and then pointed to a nearby bus. All I could do was board. I felt slightly better when I saw the same bird symbol on the window that was on my ticket...it was a non-air con and I had no idea where it was headed, but I guess I put my faith into the hands of the girl with the radio.
Turns out that the bus wasn't going to Chum Phae (my destination of choice). Two hours into the trip we pulled into rest stop next to another bus of the same company and they tapped me on the shoulder and ushered me to a second bus (all without saying a word). Ok, so they got me on the right bus going to Chum Phae (I hoped). I tried to sleep, but halfway through the night our bus stalled, sounded like we were stuck in the ditch, or had a flat tire, or overheated engine. It took a good 2 hrs. before we were moving again. Reached Chum Phae after 9 and 1/2 hrs. I was so tired I didn't even recognize the bus station and wasn't sure it was my stop because no one else was getting off, but at that point I didn't care and just wanted off the bus. I immediately bought water and the Internet cafe opened at 9. I've been sitting at a computer ever since. I hope to get a bus from here to Loei Lai at 2:30 and from there Eileen will hopefully be picking me up at 4 to head to the sanctuary. What a day!
Even my return bus trip back to the nearest town to the sanctuary turned out to be more of an adventure than expected. Today was my first time going FROM Bangkok to Chum Phae and my first time traveling on the bus alone. I arrived at the bus station at 10, an hour wait. I had no idea of boarding procedure, but remembered that the lady who sold me my ticket said something about #68. I sat down in the terminal to take in the surroundings. I was overcome with a sheer sense of being assaulted by sensory overload. 100 or more back-lit numbered booths surrounded the interior. I saw lists of 100% Thai script as my eyes scanned looking for any English. Quickly I zeroed in on the word "Information," but of course the booth was not occupied. I didn't hear any announcements, but in most airports or bus stations it is a struggle to hear and try listening for a departure in Thai. At 10:30pm the T.V.'s shut off and people were sleeping in the chairs. I got a bit nervous because no one seemed to have any luggage. Phones were ringing and booth attendants sat looking bored. I sat planning my next move. I frequently glanced at window #68, but it remained dark with no attendant. What to do? Spotted a sign for departure platforms and I lugged my backpack up and on to investigate. It appeared to be a huge field of parked buses outside. I didn't even know what type of bus I was looking for. I figured I had my number, 68, and maybe it was the bus platform not another ticket window, so at quarter to 11 (departure time of 11) I decided to wander to the buses. Previously, on the way to Bangkok when we looked for our bus 10 min. before departure they told us we were much too early. So, I figured 15min. was plenty of time. I found a pillar with #68, things were looking promising at that point, until the lady looked at my ticket and said, "rot bpai leeo." That Thai I understood: "the bus already left." What the heck?! I thought the departure wasn't until 11, but I didn't know how to say all that in Thai and just looked up at the lady all concerned. She did some talking into her radio and then pointed to a nearby bus. All I could do was board. I felt slightly better when I saw the same bird symbol on the window that was on my ticket...it was a non-air con and I had no idea where it was headed, but I guess I put my faith into the hands of the girl with the radio.
Turns out that the bus wasn't going to Chum Phae (my destination of choice). Two hours into the trip we pulled into rest stop next to another bus of the same company and they tapped me on the shoulder and ushered me to a second bus (all without saying a word). Ok, so they got me on the right bus going to Chum Phae (I hoped). I tried to sleep, but halfway through the night our bus stalled, sounded like we were stuck in the ditch, or had a flat tire, or overheated engine. It took a good 2 hrs. before we were moving again. Reached Chum Phae after 9 and 1/2 hrs. I was so tired I didn't even recognize the bus station and wasn't sure it was my stop because no one else was getting off, but at that point I didn't care and just wanted off the bus. I immediately bought water and the Internet cafe opened at 9. I've been sitting at a computer ever since. I hope to get a bus from here to Loei Lai at 2:30 and from there Eileen will hopefully be picking me up at 4 to head to the sanctuary. What a day!
Bee and Wasp Season
The same old same old is going on here except now we are dealing with a new forest danger. It is bee and wasp season. Lek, one of the rangers, got stung yesterday on his head. He was only stung once, but the entire side of his face and neck swelled incredibly. And, he isn't allergic. They tell me that amount of swelling and pain is a normal response from a sting from this species of wasp. Wonderful. We keep a running tally of all our leech bites (they have to draw blood to count) and bee stings. I'm doing pretty good, only 3 stings and 26 leech bites.
We now have two graduate students from Stony Brook University who joined the project at the beginning of June. Eileen was a field assistant for the langur project two years ago and now she is doing a pilot study before jumping into full out data collection for her Ph.D. Chris is only staying for three months just to get an idea of what it is like to work in Thailand. Anyway, so I've been pestering them with questions about Stony Brook. When I applied to work on this langur project the idea of going to graduate school at Stony Brook was in the back of my mind, especially if I ended up liking Carola and Andreas. Well, they are both wonderful people, would be terrific to work with, and it would make the future a lot more clearer if I made a smooth transition from working with them here to having one of them as an advisor at school. But, I was already leaning away from the sort of questions they are asking in their research (I'd rather work from an applied conservation angle) and now talking with Eileen and Chris I am even more turned off by the school. Basically they haven't told me one positive thing about the school (other than some of the people they work with). To make a long story short, the campus is a commuter campus so there is no "community" feel and they can't live on the stipend they receive because of high costs of living in the area (Long Island, NY). They are both incredibly in debt from student loans. So, I decided Stony Brook is not for me, but now I am back to the beginning of trying to figure out what to do next.
I'm really questioning whether or not I want to submit myself to the stress of graduate school at all (Eileen told me the first two years were the worst years of her life and I have heard similar stories from other people). And, if I still decide to apply I still haven't figured out what the heck I want to study. I need to find a specific research interest. So, I'm enjoying my time here but I haven't gotten any closer choosing my next path.
We now have two graduate students from Stony Brook University who joined the project at the beginning of June. Eileen was a field assistant for the langur project two years ago and now she is doing a pilot study before jumping into full out data collection for her Ph.D. Chris is only staying for three months just to get an idea of what it is like to work in Thailand. Anyway, so I've been pestering them with questions about Stony Brook. When I applied to work on this langur project the idea of going to graduate school at Stony Brook was in the back of my mind, especially if I ended up liking Carola and Andreas. Well, they are both wonderful people, would be terrific to work with, and it would make the future a lot more clearer if I made a smooth transition from working with them here to having one of them as an advisor at school. But, I was already leaning away from the sort of questions they are asking in their research (I'd rather work from an applied conservation angle) and now talking with Eileen and Chris I am even more turned off by the school. Basically they haven't told me one positive thing about the school (other than some of the people they work with). To make a long story short, the campus is a commuter campus so there is no "community" feel and they can't live on the stipend they receive because of high costs of living in the area (Long Island, NY). They are both incredibly in debt from student loans. So, I decided Stony Brook is not for me, but now I am back to the beginning of trying to figure out what to do next.
I'm really questioning whether or not I want to submit myself to the stress of graduate school at all (Eileen told me the first two years were the worst years of her life and I have heard similar stories from other people). And, if I still decide to apply I still haven't figured out what the heck I want to study. I need to find a specific research interest. So, I'm enjoying my time here but I haven't gotten any closer choosing my next path.
Doubts
When I was at Kalamazoo I craved going camping, but now after three months I'm getting kinda antsy. I think being on the quarter system at Kzoo got me stuck on a three month chunk schedule. After three months I am ready for something new. I feel like I have learned all the key components of Andreas and Carola's study. Days are routine now, it is just a matter of if I am doing habituation, trail work, grid painting, or walking the transect. Of course there are still things I haven't seen yet (elephants, binturong, wild dogs), so I should stick around. But, I've been thinking of grad. school lately and I'm leaning away from the type of work that Carola and Andreas are conducting. Yes, I enjoy the fieldwork and the process of data collection, analysis, write-up. I'm even looking forward to Andreas showing me how to make maps of trends in weather data. But, and a big BUT here, does it really matter to determine the inter-birth interval of langurs in Phu Khieo? Whether or not these groups in this particular area form all male bands? Whether or not they eat termites? Yes, part of science is gathering data to support answers to specific questions like these, but, here is the but again, will this help us keep viable populations in Thailand for the next 50, 100 years? Where's the conservation aspect? When do you APPLY what you have learned about the species? Many people publish data and base line data, but who takes it to the next step? I guess I'm just feeling lost right now because I don't think this work with Carola and Andreas will end with me at Stony Brook. That would be a nice, smooth, easy transition, but I'm thinking it's not the route I want to take. And, that takes away some of the driving force behind getting out in the forest every day.
Chatuchak Weekend Market
This morning I went to the Chatuchak Weekend Market in Bangkok. I’m getting used to walking in the city now and negotiating the sky-train (an above ground subway). The market is a huge area of 6,000 open-air stalls to peruse. (For those of you from Mukwonago, think Maxwell street days times 1,000). There was a diverse selection of silk, designer lamps, silver, dishes, plants, clothes, home accessories, and artwork. I was only there for two hours among the hot and sweaty mob and had enough, but I was also out of money by that time. It was actually nice to go alone because I could browse at whim and stick mostly to the craft area. I’m not too bad at bartering and even attempted to ask prices in Thai. I played the part of a student with little money and they usually took pity on me. My best buy was a beautiful matted, framed, watercolor/coffee painting done by a local artist for 380 baht (about $10). (The first time I came by the seller said the price was 900 baht). And, I had originally paid her 430 baht, but she gave me 50 back because she saw that I had zero money left and no way of getting home! Also bought a bedspread made of silk fabrics that is put together quilt-like and another swatch of silk.
Leeches in my Pants!
I imagine it will take me the entire year to get a half decent picture of a langur. They are too far away for my lens. One of the rangers has a 500mm lens that is huge! How nice would that be?! But, of course, he also carries around a tripod and devotes entire days to taking pictures when he doesn't have to concentrate on collecting data. It is frustrating because I never have my camera with me when I see the cool stuff in the forest. I just can't carry it with me everyday, it gets in the way. A REAL photographer would slog through it and lug everything around I guess, but so far I haven't been able to convince myself to do that everyday. I had an unexpected day off (April 20th) because the previous two days I spent thirteen hours each day in the forest following a langur group. Although most of that time is spent sitting and waiting for them to move, being ever alert and aware of their presence is very tiring. Anyway, so I used my day off to tidy my room and catch up on typing emails. It still works like college where I live in my room and throw stuff in piles until it gets to be too annoying and I'm forced to do major cleaning and laundry. And, like college, I started with little physical stuff, but things seem to accumulate.
Did I tell you about the problem with my pants? Most of my field pants have mesh on the insides of the pockets (and some of the shirts have vents on the backs with mesh). The leeches find this and have easy entrance to your pants! So, I've been wearing a shirt under my long sleeve shirts to tuck in and that helps, but I can't do much about the pants. I don't want to sew the pockets closed, that would be stupid. I also tried duct-taping the pockets closed for the day, but it is too humid and the tape doesn't stick. So, now I'm all paranoid about checking my pockets and crotch periodically during the day for leeches. Who would have thought that would be a design flaw!
Did I tell you about the problem with my pants? Most of my field pants have mesh on the insides of the pockets (and some of the shirts have vents on the backs with mesh). The leeches find this and have easy entrance to your pants! So, I've been wearing a shirt under my long sleeve shirts to tuck in and that helps, but I can't do much about the pants. I don't want to sew the pockets closed, that would be stupid. I also tried duct-taping the pockets closed for the day, but it is too humid and the tape doesn't stick. So, now I'm all paranoid about checking my pockets and crotch periodically during the day for leeches. Who would have thought that would be a design flaw!
Lions (not here), Tigers (not likely), Bears (oh Yes!)
Hello, sa-wat-dee. Enough time has passed that I have fallen into a well-set routine. And, I'll even admit that being hot and sweaty and trudging up and down and around hills all day makes me look forward to a cold shower. The days are getting hotter (the rainy season is expected to begin in late April with a peak in June). It's usually around 70F by seven in the morning and must reach mid-nineties by mid-afternoon. I'm happy to report that the motorbike driving is getting better although I am still not comfortable driving with a passenger. So, what do I see hiking all day in the forest? I have to admit that the majority of my time is not spent hiking, but sitting on the ground. We often see no visible monkeys, not even visible movement, but we just know which tree they are in and stick to it until they move. I've logged enough hours in the forest now to come across a few cool critters. I have seen one guar (a large water-buffalo looking animal), but no elephants yet. We do see plenty of their plant destruction and footprints. Of course, the highest percentage of everything I run into, so they can't be overlooked, (ticks I mentioned before), but now I am quite familiar with LEECHES. It isn't the rainy season yet, however, we've had a week of uncharacteristic daily rains. The bad news: this means I pull at least thirty leeches off my clothes during the day. If you stand in one spot in the forest you can literally watch them inch forward - "smelling" to locate you - the target of an invasion from a bad horror flick. We wear leech socks, tubes of material that go over your regular socks and tie tight at the knee, keeping out intruders. But, when I remove my boots I also remove balls of ten to twenty leeches from my heel area and under my arch or packed around the shoe edges. The good news: It doesn't hurt when they bite (they inject something to numb the area which makes them difficult to detect); you just deal with an annoying amount of blood because they also inject something to prevent clotting.
But, enough about that fun subject, how about snakes? Yep, just four days ago I was almost bitten by a snake - a viper (potentially venomous) judging by the triangular shape of the head. It was small, about 25-30cm, with a dark red stripe down the center back with yellow and black specks along the sides, and a beautiful rust color that was perfect camouflage for the wet leaf litter. I was just about to step over it when I spotted it, and as I withdrew my foot it struck at and hit the inside of my hiking boot. Luckily the second aggressive attempt at a strike hit air. Lek, the ranger I was with for the day, was ahead of me on the trail and must have stepped right over the thing. I wasn't able to identify it from the small reptile field guide we have here. A stunning sight, but it did get my heart pumping :)
More than the snake story, our encounter with an Asiatic Black Bear was the story that spread throughout the sanctuary in a couple of hours. Carola and I were out walking the transect (a 4000 meter trail running at a set angle - meaning it goes down into valleys, through rivers, and up slopes). We take three minutes to walk 50 meters. This is slow. At all times you are scanning looking for any monkey sightings and at the trail ahead to avoid obstacles and be as quiet as possible. In total, the transect takes about four hours to walk (if there are no interruptions) and this does not count the half-hour hike in (in the dark before sunrise) and one and a half hour hike out. Did I mention it is slow and exhausting? Anyway, so you get the idea that we were walking slow and quiet, which meant we were within 30 feet of the bear when we saw it and before it saw us. Carola was startled and started to back away/ half push me down the trail. The only time I felt my heart beat faster was when I thought she was going to run. As Carola turned her back on the bear it turned to stare at us. He then took a step toward us. For a split second I thought he was going to continue advancing. I was thinking to myself, "um, where would be the best place to go if he decides to charge," but other than that I was much more fascinated to get a clear view of his face than I was scared. The big story that everyone got a kick out of was that I stood there trying to get a better look with my binoculars (even though we were much too close to need binoculars), while Carola was ready to hit it with bear spray or her machete. But there was no incident, it turned and ploughed off in the opposite direction.
The week of 23rd of March Carola and Andreas ran a five-day lecture/lab workshop, Primate Ecology and Conservation in Thailand - A Teaching Workshop at Phu Khieo Wildlife Sanctuary. Officially fifteen employees of the Royal Forestry Department and three university students were asked to attend. Unofficially, we had about thirty people. After every power-point slide presented we sat through a full Thai translation, making the lecture pace slow for everyone. My role in the workshop was to help out during the daily labs. I had the most fun teaching a group of chiefs (high-ranking managers of various sanctuaries) how to use a range-finder and compass. At one point I gestured to one of the flagged trees for them to estimate distance saying, "blue blue." Apparently, I also pointed toward one of the gentlemen and the group thought I was saying "luung luung" (or uncle in Thai). It's one of those things where you had to be there, but they got a huge laugh out of it and every time they saw me afterward they called out "blue uncle." The lab was cut short because it turned noon and noon means lunch for Thais - no ifs, ands, or buts about it. So, they said, "ah, enough of this, we go lunch." The end. Traditionally Thais are afraid of the forest and you would never see them hiking/camping. For example, when school groups come to Phu Khieo we only see them bird watching, scanning the trees from the road.
My favorite lunch during the workshop was the result of being called over to a group of Thais sitting around bowls of fish, chicken, beans, pineapple, and sticky rice. We ate with our fingers and masses of rice and shared laughs (about what I do not know). I was the only farang (foreigner) and it felt good (even if I was a little self conscious about eating fruit - they kept watching what I ate and warned me not to each so much pineapple or I would get fat). At the end of the workshop we finished off with a typical Thai party-starting early at five pm. The custom is to drink beer before dinner, eat, then bring out the sound system for karaoke and hard liquor. Basically by dinner people are on their way to being drunk. I ate dinner with Guillaume and in the second it took him to step out to grab more beer I was surrounded by older guys - including the boss of the chief of our sanctuary. They tried to question me to the extent of their English. The big joke was that I was surrounded by a Laotian, Thai, and Cambodian man, I could have my pick. Right. Luckily I was "rescued" by some female students who would intercept and dance between the guys and me. I looked like a fool dancing (in Thai it consists of swaying/hopping and moving your hands "mixing" the air), but so did everyone else. I was actually relieved to dance because it meant I wasn't doing karaoke. (Every ten minutes I was asked if I would get up to sing). By the end of the night everyone was drunk and this seems to be typical and accepted. I got (too close) hugs on the way out and passed others who could barely stand.
Despite a party every once in a while, our usual nighttime entertainment is far more basic and unique. I mean, you have to be creative when you have no TV. We have watched Guillaume and Stephan shake mentholated talcum powder down their pants (think icy/hot sensation), analyzed tarot cards (I pulled the "strength" card), and laughed as Kitty (one of the sanctuary workers) and Andreas cheered on an old senile pelican carefully climbing the steps to our porch to get out of the rain). If we happen to have two days off in a row sometimes we go to the town of Khon Kaen where we can get a hot shower. Actually, last time in Khon Kaen I tried a traditional Thai massage (300baht or about $7 for two hours). They come right to your hotel room. The massage started with the lady cracking all of my toes and progressed to nice kneading of the muscles in my legs and back with some hip stretching thrown in. Ended with her stretching my back over her knees. Overall, very relaxing body-wise. Not mentally so, however. At the beginning she wanted to ask me questions all in Thai and I caught only about 5% of the conversation which takes a lot of mental concentration. But, going to Khon Kaen is a luxury because it means driving the motorbike 1 hour from the sanctuary to Loui Lai (a small village). Next, taking a slow moving, small open-air bus 1 hour to Cham Phae (a larger town where we usually buy groceries and do email). And finally, being ushered to a "ceiling fan" two-hour bus ride to Khon Kaen (keep in mind all the buses are packed to the gills with people sitting/standing in the aisles). By the time you arrive you are battered by wind and sun and questions in Thai and utterly exhausted. But, you get pizza for lunch. We maybe maybe see a handful of foreigners in Khon Kaen and usually none in Cham Phae. Yeah, so that's what we do for fun. Contrasted with the long days in the forest it all sums up what I'm up to these days.
But, enough about that fun subject, how about snakes? Yep, just four days ago I was almost bitten by a snake - a viper (potentially venomous) judging by the triangular shape of the head. It was small, about 25-30cm, with a dark red stripe down the center back with yellow and black specks along the sides, and a beautiful rust color that was perfect camouflage for the wet leaf litter. I was just about to step over it when I spotted it, and as I withdrew my foot it struck at and hit the inside of my hiking boot. Luckily the second aggressive attempt at a strike hit air. Lek, the ranger I was with for the day, was ahead of me on the trail and must have stepped right over the thing. I wasn't able to identify it from the small reptile field guide we have here. A stunning sight, but it did get my heart pumping :)
More than the snake story, our encounter with an Asiatic Black Bear was the story that spread throughout the sanctuary in a couple of hours. Carola and I were out walking the transect (a 4000 meter trail running at a set angle - meaning it goes down into valleys, through rivers, and up slopes). We take three minutes to walk 50 meters. This is slow. At all times you are scanning looking for any monkey sightings and at the trail ahead to avoid obstacles and be as quiet as possible. In total, the transect takes about four hours to walk (if there are no interruptions) and this does not count the half-hour hike in (in the dark before sunrise) and one and a half hour hike out. Did I mention it is slow and exhausting? Anyway, so you get the idea that we were walking slow and quiet, which meant we were within 30 feet of the bear when we saw it and before it saw us. Carola was startled and started to back away/ half push me down the trail. The only time I felt my heart beat faster was when I thought she was going to run. As Carola turned her back on the bear it turned to stare at us. He then took a step toward us. For a split second I thought he was going to continue advancing. I was thinking to myself, "um, where would be the best place to go if he decides to charge," but other than that I was much more fascinated to get a clear view of his face than I was scared. The big story that everyone got a kick out of was that I stood there trying to get a better look with my binoculars (even though we were much too close to need binoculars), while Carola was ready to hit it with bear spray or her machete. But there was no incident, it turned and ploughed off in the opposite direction.
The week of 23rd of March Carola and Andreas ran a five-day lecture/lab workshop, Primate Ecology and Conservation in Thailand - A Teaching Workshop at Phu Khieo Wildlife Sanctuary. Officially fifteen employees of the Royal Forestry Department and three university students were asked to attend. Unofficially, we had about thirty people. After every power-point slide presented we sat through a full Thai translation, making the lecture pace slow for everyone. My role in the workshop was to help out during the daily labs. I had the most fun teaching a group of chiefs (high-ranking managers of various sanctuaries) how to use a range-finder and compass. At one point I gestured to one of the flagged trees for them to estimate distance saying, "blue blue." Apparently, I also pointed toward one of the gentlemen and the group thought I was saying "luung luung" (or uncle in Thai). It's one of those things where you had to be there, but they got a huge laugh out of it and every time they saw me afterward they called out "blue uncle." The lab was cut short because it turned noon and noon means lunch for Thais - no ifs, ands, or buts about it. So, they said, "ah, enough of this, we go lunch." The end. Traditionally Thais are afraid of the forest and you would never see them hiking/camping. For example, when school groups come to Phu Khieo we only see them bird watching, scanning the trees from the road.
My favorite lunch during the workshop was the result of being called over to a group of Thais sitting around bowls of fish, chicken, beans, pineapple, and sticky rice. We ate with our fingers and masses of rice and shared laughs (about what I do not know). I was the only farang (foreigner) and it felt good (even if I was a little self conscious about eating fruit - they kept watching what I ate and warned me not to each so much pineapple or I would get fat). At the end of the workshop we finished off with a typical Thai party-starting early at five pm. The custom is to drink beer before dinner, eat, then bring out the sound system for karaoke and hard liquor. Basically by dinner people are on their way to being drunk. I ate dinner with Guillaume and in the second it took him to step out to grab more beer I was surrounded by older guys - including the boss of the chief of our sanctuary. They tried to question me to the extent of their English. The big joke was that I was surrounded by a Laotian, Thai, and Cambodian man, I could have my pick. Right. Luckily I was "rescued" by some female students who would intercept and dance between the guys and me. I looked like a fool dancing (in Thai it consists of swaying/hopping and moving your hands "mixing" the air), but so did everyone else. I was actually relieved to dance because it meant I wasn't doing karaoke. (Every ten minutes I was asked if I would get up to sing). By the end of the night everyone was drunk and this seems to be typical and accepted. I got (too close) hugs on the way out and passed others who could barely stand.
Despite a party every once in a while, our usual nighttime entertainment is far more basic and unique. I mean, you have to be creative when you have no TV. We have watched Guillaume and Stephan shake mentholated talcum powder down their pants (think icy/hot sensation), analyzed tarot cards (I pulled the "strength" card), and laughed as Kitty (one of the sanctuary workers) and Andreas cheered on an old senile pelican carefully climbing the steps to our porch to get out of the rain). If we happen to have two days off in a row sometimes we go to the town of Khon Kaen where we can get a hot shower. Actually, last time in Khon Kaen I tried a traditional Thai massage (300baht or about $7 for two hours). They come right to your hotel room. The massage started with the lady cracking all of my toes and progressed to nice kneading of the muscles in my legs and back with some hip stretching thrown in. Ended with her stretching my back over her knees. Overall, very relaxing body-wise. Not mentally so, however. At the beginning she wanted to ask me questions all in Thai and I caught only about 5% of the conversation which takes a lot of mental concentration. But, going to Khon Kaen is a luxury because it means driving the motorbike 1 hour from the sanctuary to Loui Lai (a small village). Next, taking a slow moving, small open-air bus 1 hour to Cham Phae (a larger town where we usually buy groceries and do email). And finally, being ushered to a "ceiling fan" two-hour bus ride to Khon Kaen (keep in mind all the buses are packed to the gills with people sitting/standing in the aisles). By the time you arrive you are battered by wind and sun and questions in Thai and utterly exhausted. But, you get pizza for lunch. We maybe maybe see a handful of foreigners in Khon Kaen and usually none in Cham Phae. Yeah, so that's what we do for fun. Contrasted with the long days in the forest it all sums up what I'm up to these days.
Bacteria, Giardia, or Worms?
Seems that I wouldn't last too long on Survivor Thailand. You wondered about the cooking? I finally got time to sit and type emails onto Carola's ancient laptop (black and white screen, windows 3.1 in German) because I was sick with stomach flu (diarrhea, fever, chills) for seven days. After five days of being sick and two days of taking a strong antibiotic along with Imodium, with no improvement, Carola and I went to the Cham Phae Hospital. Beforehand I used one of their DNA vials for a stool sample. Drove up to the hospital and saw an entire mob of people waiting - tired and spent looking, but at the same time interesting and full of life and experience. Many rural women in traditional dress of purple sarongs with geometric shapes and hair cut short. To help us out, Carola had her English speaking friend, Maun, from on of the cheapy gold jewelry stores in town, write down my symptoms in Thai. My Thai ID card turned out to be extremely useful for them to fill out a form for me, so now I have a hospital card. We were directed, given a sort of royal "show and tell" treatment, to a room that was bordered by partitioned rooms for examination. After waiting at various numbered rooms, one of which the doctor took one look at me and closed the door in my face, we were finally positioned in a row of four seats leading up to the door. The current patient was clearly visible to me. Even as they ushered me into the examination room, the doctor was still in discussion with another patient. After the prior patient left there were no introductions, I just handed my registration card to the Dr. and mumbled diarrhea 5 days, fever, headache. He had me lay down on a stained mattress and gruffly blurted "excuse me" as he poked at my stomach. No washing his hands or explaining what he was feeling for and found or didn't. This was all in fairly clear view of all the waiting patients who had no embarrassment over watching the whole time. I got down and he sort of patted at me and laughed as if to say "ha ha funny farang (foreigner) only has watery diarrhea and thinks is a problem." So, he told me to continue taking the antibiotics, wrote me a prescription for aspirin and something for pain and sent me to door 20. They took my stool sample after some confusion and embarrassment on my part of having people open an envelope and look at my sh!t. As we waited they looked at the sample under what looked like microscopes from a high-school biology classroom. Found nothing. So they conferred, walked me over to a table and showed me a long cotton swab. And this means? After many directions in Thai from three different people, I finally got a key word "insert." Fine. I found the bathroom, took the swab, and have absolutely no confidence that they will find anything. They told me they will mail me the results. Carola tried to explain we would come back for the results, but they were adamant about mailing. So, it should take them three days to get the results, and probably another week to get the mail at the sanctuary headquarters and a few days after that for the mail to reach me. Basically, I learned nothing. The entire hospital bill (including prescriptions which they gave me there) was something like 65 baht -- less than $2. The whole hospital experience was March 11. On the 12th I took one tablet of Mebendazole for worms. Today, the 14th is the first day that I have eaten regular food. Before this I ate only bread and rice and bananas, and before that, nothing but electrolyte powder drink. But, I do feel better today, and no more diarrhea. I hope to go back out in the forest tomorrow, because it has been six days now that they have had to rearrange the schedule without me working. The most annoying thing is that I have no idea the source of the problem. Could have been any of a number of too much bad bacteria, or giardia, or worms. But, so far so good today...
Phu Khieo First Impressions
I took a field assistant position working for two professors from State University of New York-Stony Brook on a primate behavior project. I have been living in Thailand at the Phu Khieo Wildlife Sanctuary since February 23, 2003 and will stay until March 2004.
On first impression, the forest was not what I expected. It is extremely dry with crunchy leaves that litter the ground; not the lush wetness I imagined. Of course when I arrived it was in the end of the cool winter season, but the plants are indicative of dry areas. The forest is quiet, not like wet rain forest. If you didn't know better, a quick glance looks like Wisconsin because of the pine trees on the outer edge of the forest. One would tend to think of our study site as "forest" not "jungle," if that makes sense. Our living quarters are about a 45 min. drive on a motorbike from the sanctuary entrance. The wood buildings are raised three feet on stilts and look like summer camp cabins for kids (they are even numbered!). Black and white posts on the side of the road remind me of markers for a campsite. I have quite a nice green mosquito net (it is rectangular so easily forms and hangs around the bed). I can see though the planks on the walls and my floor has rather large holes. The bathroom took the most getting used to. It is an Asian-style toilet, just enough room for your feet on each side of a porcelain basin. You "flush" the waste with water you scoop out of a large holding tank. A second holding tank supplies water for washing your hands. You shower with a hand-held nozzle, cold only. All of the water is discarded onto the floor and there is little drainage. When we first arrived the floor was soaking wet and reminded me of an overflowing toilet in a bus station restroom. We take off our shoes before we step onto the porch, and because I had no flip-flops to wear I had to walk bare-foot into the water. Now I have gotten myself a pair of sandals to wear in the bathroom, but I still have trouble with the concept of no sink and constant wet floors. Typically I work seven or eight days and then have two days off (one to go into Chum Phae, the nearest town for supplies-about an hour distant by car; and one day to rest). I start the days I am scheduled to look for a monkey group (we are studying monkeys called langurs) with a dawn (4 A.M.) breakfast by candlelight (we only have electricity from six to ten in the evening), usually a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with instant coffee. Then it's off on the motorbike to pick up the ranger assigned to me for the day followed by a 20-minute drive the study site trail entrance. The majority of the day we spend slowly hiking trails until we find a group of langurs. One group of 22 (named PA) is already habituated, which means that our walking around and staring at them through binoculars doesn't cause them to freak out and flee. When we spend a day with PA we record their location every half hour based on a grid system of marked trees and we note down all of the individuals present. I am still learning how to identify individuals by their muzzle shape, hair crest, or white eye rings. The infants are bright orange, and their gender is difficult to determine. Non-habituated groups are a different story. We practically have to sneak up on them, and then slowly follow until they(invariably) decide they've had enough and flee. Think slow steps, no noise, much stealth. We usually leave the forest between 2 P.M. and 6 P.M., depending on how long we can follow the langurs. The schedule usually allows just enough time to catch a shower and maybe a quick snack of a Nutella sandwich and hot tang. Dinner is at 7 P.M., cooked by a local woman whose name is Ba-tong. We have our meals in sort of a central place near the headquarters with three large tables and benches where visitors and rangers eat. The venue even has a T.V. for movies. The food, however, is not even close to what I was eating in Bangkok. We always have tons of rice of course, and then a side dish of vegetables and meat/tofu. The side dish is always spicy and usually curry. Unfortunately, it often looks unappetizing. So I have to force myself to eat every night, in part because I know the food sits out for days (non-refrigerated of course) in a cabinet that keeps the ants out. Our routine after dinner is to sit on the porch, watch the Sambar deer attempt to eat our garbage, and drink beer (well, hot tang for me). Unfortunately, I haven't gotten to practice Thai much at all because I'm out in the forest all day and we try to be quiet. But, I am working on it. I bring my flashcards everywhere. And, when I work with the rangers, Lek or Wichian, I do try to learn new words. But so far we have only gone through a couple words related to the forest. They both speak a little English, though it took me time to grow accustomed to their pronunciation. A field guide to birds helped me "break the ice" with them. Lek loves to learn English bird names. So, I pronounce a name for him and he writes it in his language book. Then, he writes the bird's name in my book in Thai and repeats it so I can spell it phonetically. We also got into an involved discussion on the diversity of animal noises. For example, I insist that American pigs "oink," but Lek contends a Thai pig says "uut-uut-eeee." A U.S. frog goes "ribbit-ribbit," but the language of Thai frogs, says Lek, is "gop-gop." My favorite difference, which sounds more accurate than the others, is the Thai gecko, which says "tok gay" rather than "gec-ko." The conversations are simple and tedious, but friendly and fun. I go everywhere in flip-flops or hiking boots. And of course, there are tons of ticks, leeches and critters to deal with.
On first impression, the forest was not what I expected. It is extremely dry with crunchy leaves that litter the ground; not the lush wetness I imagined. Of course when I arrived it was in the end of the cool winter season, but the plants are indicative of dry areas. The forest is quiet, not like wet rain forest. If you didn't know better, a quick glance looks like Wisconsin because of the pine trees on the outer edge of the forest. One would tend to think of our study site as "forest" not "jungle," if that makes sense. Our living quarters are about a 45 min. drive on a motorbike from the sanctuary entrance. The wood buildings are raised three feet on stilts and look like summer camp cabins for kids (they are even numbered!). Black and white posts on the side of the road remind me of markers for a campsite. I have quite a nice green mosquito net (it is rectangular so easily forms and hangs around the bed). I can see though the planks on the walls and my floor has rather large holes. The bathroom took the most getting used to. It is an Asian-style toilet, just enough room for your feet on each side of a porcelain basin. You "flush" the waste with water you scoop out of a large holding tank. A second holding tank supplies water for washing your hands. You shower with a hand-held nozzle, cold only. All of the water is discarded onto the floor and there is little drainage. When we first arrived the floor was soaking wet and reminded me of an overflowing toilet in a bus station restroom. We take off our shoes before we step onto the porch, and because I had no flip-flops to wear I had to walk bare-foot into the water. Now I have gotten myself a pair of sandals to wear in the bathroom, but I still have trouble with the concept of no sink and constant wet floors. Typically I work seven or eight days and then have two days off (one to go into Chum Phae, the nearest town for supplies-about an hour distant by car; and one day to rest). I start the days I am scheduled to look for a monkey group (we are studying monkeys called langurs) with a dawn (4 A.M.) breakfast by candlelight (we only have electricity from six to ten in the evening), usually a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with instant coffee. Then it's off on the motorbike to pick up the ranger assigned to me for the day followed by a 20-minute drive the study site trail entrance. The majority of the day we spend slowly hiking trails until we find a group of langurs. One group of 22 (named PA) is already habituated, which means that our walking around and staring at them through binoculars doesn't cause them to freak out and flee. When we spend a day with PA we record their location every half hour based on a grid system of marked trees and we note down all of the individuals present. I am still learning how to identify individuals by their muzzle shape, hair crest, or white eye rings. The infants are bright orange, and their gender is difficult to determine. Non-habituated groups are a different story. We practically have to sneak up on them, and then slowly follow until they(invariably) decide they've had enough and flee. Think slow steps, no noise, much stealth. We usually leave the forest between 2 P.M. and 6 P.M., depending on how long we can follow the langurs. The schedule usually allows just enough time to catch a shower and maybe a quick snack of a Nutella sandwich and hot tang. Dinner is at 7 P.M., cooked by a local woman whose name is Ba-tong. We have our meals in sort of a central place near the headquarters with three large tables and benches where visitors and rangers eat. The venue even has a T.V. for movies. The food, however, is not even close to what I was eating in Bangkok. We always have tons of rice of course, and then a side dish of vegetables and meat/tofu. The side dish is always spicy and usually curry. Unfortunately, it often looks unappetizing. So I have to force myself to eat every night, in part because I know the food sits out for days (non-refrigerated of course) in a cabinet that keeps the ants out. Our routine after dinner is to sit on the porch, watch the Sambar deer attempt to eat our garbage, and drink beer (well, hot tang for me). Unfortunately, I haven't gotten to practice Thai much at all because I'm out in the forest all day and we try to be quiet. But, I am working on it. I bring my flashcards everywhere. And, when I work with the rangers, Lek or Wichian, I do try to learn new words. But so far we have only gone through a couple words related to the forest. They both speak a little English, though it took me time to grow accustomed to their pronunciation. A field guide to birds helped me "break the ice" with them. Lek loves to learn English bird names. So, I pronounce a name for him and he writes it in his language book. Then, he writes the bird's name in my book in Thai and repeats it so I can spell it phonetically. We also got into an involved discussion on the diversity of animal noises. For example, I insist that American pigs "oink," but Lek contends a Thai pig says "uut-uut-eeee." A U.S. frog goes "ribbit-ribbit," but the language of Thai frogs, says Lek, is "gop-gop." My favorite difference, which sounds more accurate than the others, is the Thai gecko, which says "tok gay" rather than "gec-ko." The conversations are simple and tedious, but friendly and fun. I go everywhere in flip-flops or hiking boots. And of course, there are tons of ticks, leeches and critters to deal with.