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.