Yaxchilan and Bonampak archaeological sites

8:45 p.m. Sunday, Oct. 17, 2010 – La Casa, Palenque, Mexico

A mural at Bonampak archaeological site. Much better preserved than I ever expected and a beautiful thing to witness (see the enlargeable image below).

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Today I was (very fortunately) talked into going to the Yaxchilan and Bonampak archaeology sites with Brittany, Liz and Evelyn. It was an all day trip for $600 pesos ($50 USD), including transportation, entrance fees, breakfast and lunch, yet my extremely stingy self still hesitated. However, Sarie had enthusiastically recommended the trip and her approval is difficult to earn, so I figured it must be worthwhile. Plus, we were all getting cabin fever from being stuck inside, working on our computers for the past two days. Last night we impulsively made fondue (five girls in a house, what do you expect?), and then went to bed early.

This morning the tour picked us up at 6:30 a.m. in a charter van, and we stopped along the way to have a wonderful breakfast of eggs, rice and fruit. Then we continued the rest of the three hour journey to the Usumacinta River, which divides Mexico and Guatemala. We rode on a long, skinny and low-riding boat down the river, drifting so close to Guatemala’s shore that we were all tempted to jump out just to say we’d been to Guatemala. But we had heard the river was teeming with crocodiles, and while we never saw any, there were tons of crazy huge, swimming iguanas.

The shore over my shoulder is Guatemala!

We arrived at Yaxchilan (Mexican side of the river)

and were given two hours to explore the premise. While not quite as expansive as la ruinas de Palenque, this site featured more detailed carvings and ornately decorated tablets. In the first building we entered there were dark hallways that crisscrossed throughout the structure. Most of the pyramids we had visited in the past had roofs but not many walls, so seeing wasn’t a problem and we didn’t bother to bring headlamps. This was an exception, but I couldn’t leave it unexplored. There were bats in the narrow hallways so I was walking through trying to catch them in flight with my camera and flash. The flash also doubled as my navigation tool, and I would initiate it, walk about ten feet (or as far as the image burned in my head allowed), then flash it again.

I inched my way through with this strategy, until I reached some steps. I had seen them for a fraction of a second, and I thought that was sufficient to get me up safety. But I took a few steps up and went crashing forward on my forearms, as my feet slipped backward on the uneven and damp steps. Luckily, my arms cradled the camera and it never made impact with the rock.

My feet did not fare as well. I had smashed the toes on my left foot against the rock and was only wearing sandals. It felt like a stubbed toe x 10, but when I made it out of the darkness and back with the rest of the group, I looked down and didn’t see the damage I was expecting based on the still non-relenting pain. At first. But a few minutes later I looked down again and there was blood gushing from beneath the toenail of my middle toe, and the nail looked like it was about to fall off. We cleaned it and applied a band aid (our group has quickly learned the importance of taking a first aid kit everywhere, because you never know what could happen—especially in my case). It definitely felt broken, and I spent the rest of the day in pain and struggling to climb up and down thousands of steps, always trying to keep the weight on my heels.

Lizard checking its [Mayan] calendar

We did see some amazing sights though—enough to drive the throbbing toe out of my mind. We finally got to see our first spider monkeys at Yaxchilan, which was quite a treat for us monkey-lovers. We met back at the boat and returned to the tour’s home base for a delicious and well-presented lunch of chicken fajitas with flan for dessert.

Next, the four of us hopped back on the van and headed to the Bonampak site. These ruins were much smaller and consisted of only a few buildings, but they made up for their modest size by boasting incredibly well-preserved murals. They were highly detailed and colored, and I was amazed at how well the artistry had survived the centuries. This was my favorite part, actually witnessing full paintings where I could see the subjects clearly rather than just guessing vaguely at their meaning. I continued taking photos until I was the only one that remained, then reluctantly turned my back on the cultural treasures and joined the others at the van.

When we got back to the house I took off my band aid to reveal a black and purple, swollen toe with a puss filled nail and crooked joint. I seem to be attracting injuries here like Nutella attracts ants.

Working on my feet all day is not going to be fun.

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Fondue

11:45 p.m. Saturday, Oct. 16, 2010 - La Casa, Palenque, Mexico

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This is what happens when you live in a house with five girls. Tonight on a whim we melted a bunch of chocolate bars and made our own fondue. We dipped in chunks of apple, grape, kiwi and orange and it was INCREDIBLE!

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Second photo excursion in the jungle

7:18 p.m. Saturday, Oct. 16, 2010 – La Casa, Palenque, Mexico

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Today our half day turned out to be quite fun; we got the additional data we needed but mainly I was just so pleased to finally have my SLR with me again in the field. It was a lot easier to lug around the gear for only five hours as opposed to the typical ten, and I enjoyed feeling like a real photographer again. It did rain for about an hour in the morning, but I came prepared with my sturdy camera backpack which has a tough outer shell, rain cover and solid straps for carrying in the toughest of environmental conditions. The bag carries all the camera gear I need (Canon 50D w/ grip, 70-200mm f/2.8 L USM, 17-55mm f/2.8 IS USM, 100mm f/2.8 Macro USM, 50mm f/1.8, flash, filters, extra batteries, CF cards) and my computer (though the extra zippered compartment doubles as my hydration bladder storage while I'm in the field). There's even room for my lunch, rain jacket and binoculars in the top compartment. It's a side-loader backpack, which I've come to find essential when photographing on-the-go.

Obviously there are many photos posted on this blog from my daily trips into the forest when I don't have my gear with me, and they are all provided by my previously mentioned water and shock-proof point and shoot. Not exactly the sharpest camera in the shed, but immensely appreciated when I can' t bring my DSLR along for the ride (which is unfortunately often).

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Surviving the fragments

5:30 p.m. Wednesday, Oct. 13, 2010 – La Casa, Palenque, Mexico

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Monday was the start of my first full cycle with Chiara. Her project has to do with male-male interactions and stress levels in groups living in the national park versus surrounding forest fragments. Therefore, we only really need to focus on monkeys with Y chromosomes. But most of the groups in CBETA (one of the forest fragments) spend a lot of time separated, so we’ll each watch one of the males and switch off to rotate focals. Most of my time working with Chiara is spent searching independently, with us within “woo-ing” distance but split up and exploring a broader range.

Woo Key:

-Woo once: Where are you?/I’m here

-Woo twice: Found the monkeys!

-Woo thrice: Emergency

I have spent a lot of time on my own tramping back and forth between monkeys, creating new paths and following old ones. The result is I already feel like I know my way around CBETA better after three days than I know Palenque National Park (PNP) after ~20 days. While PNP is less dense and has more maintained trails, it is a much more extensive area. Also, since I work with a larger team and am therefore less essential, a side effect is I tend to follow and not pay as much attention to where I am going. In the fragment it is just Chiara and me so I know I’m needed to find the monkeys and collect data/samples. Basically, I have to be on top of my game. I have to learn faster and pay attention to every slight detail of the forest because I’m on my own to get back.

On days when it takes us hours to locate them, I feel all of my senses tensing up and becoming super sensitive. I notice every potential grunt, leaf munch or branch break. I can tell whenever they’ve defecated and urinated in a spot in the past two days, and where they’ve been feeding. The downside to being über aware is a lot of false hope followed by let down. When it’s 11 a.m. and we know we absolutely have to find them in order to complete the six hour daily minimum of focals, every promising sound and movement that turns out to be a bird or squirrel (huge, black squirrels with long tails that look convincingly like howler monkey juveniles) is a heart-breaker.

There are days when I question why I got myself into this mess, mostly having to do with encounters with swarming ants, being caught in prison of thorny lianas and chochos (evil spiky palms who's spines break off in your skin and irritate for days), chiggers in unfortunate places and finding no safe sanctuary in which to answers Nature’s call. A really low moment happened the first day with Griffin, when Chiara and I went through a thick tunnel of vines and came out with our arms and hands covered in swarms of little, red, stinging ants. We got about 20 stings apiece. As you have probably gathered by now, ants are to Peggy as snakes are to Indiana Jones—my only weakness, my Achilles heel and the one thing that can make me scream like a little girl.

Despite all of these constant struggles, most days I return exhausted but satisfied with the work. And the result is I feel like I’m actually cut out for this job. Yesterday we left for the field at 6 a.m. but didn’t find the monkeys until 12 p.m. The two males (Bro and Peter) stayed split for most of the day, but we stilled managed to collect fecal samples from both of them. We didn’t return until after 5 p.m., and then had to enter data and process the fecal material, but we had accomplished it so much and it felt great.

Depending on the day it can be all walking and fighting through thick brush with no chance to sit, eat, think or relax. That was how yesterday was. But the first day with the Griffins was great, with them separate but resting for hours on end. I had time to sit and think, and enjoy other aspects of the forest. When I get the chance I like to photograph or sketch all the critters I see, so I can go back and identify them later. I’m not used to not recognizing the majority of animals I encounter, so the first thing I want to do is figure out what species they are. I have also been using the time spent alone and resting to brainstorm what possible research I would want to do for my PhD. I’ve narrowed it down to dominance hierarchies and mating systems of lemurs, but I should really have a better idea before I start applying for funding.

But either way, resting with the monkeys or traveling with them, the work is definitely heavy. I have been so stressed about applying for graduate school, but working on it any time other than the long breaks has proved to be nearly impossible. All added up our work days are 12-13 hours and by the time we finish we have little time or energy for anything beyond showering and making some food. Tomorrow was supposed to be the first day of the four day break, but Sarie’s group is still missing some data and needs to go back for another half day. I decided to go with them because I felt bad resting while my comrades were working, but I’ll bring all my camera gear to make it worth while.

Today I discovered a new technique--binophotography: photographing through my binoculars. Creates some harsh vignetting, but works much better than I expected.

Pardon the shakiness of the videos, binovideography is taxing on the arms!

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Birthday celebrations and Mayan sacrifices

10:05 a.m. Sunday, Oct 10, 2010 – La Casa, Palenque, Mexico

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We had one more day of Balam—in which they were kind to us and stayed mostly over a pretty little stream. They had and nice, long howling bout and we could track them easily and relax for a change.

Yesterday was also Brittany’s birthday, which worked out perfectly since it was the last day of the cycle and we were able to celebrate in style. After work, Evelyn, Liz and I sneaked off to town to pick up the Rex toy (from Toy Story) we had seen Brittany lust over on several of our grocery trips. It roars when you squeeze it, and to select the perfect one we had a “howling bout” between several to determine the “dominant male” with the most impressive voice. Then Dr. Estrada took us out to dinner at this really fancy restaurant. We took the opportunity to bust out our dresses, which get little use in this line of work.

We all enjoyed dinner and drinks, and joked about things both work and non-work related. It felt nice to hang out with Sarie and Dr. Estrada in a non-work environment for a change. Rex was a big hit, and his roar could be heard often throughout the evening.

After the responsible people headed home, the rest of us headed to El Panchan to continue the celebration. Brittany, Evelyn, Liz and I decided to each order a different cocktail, so we could try something new and rotate around the table. All of ours proved to be pretty typical except for Brittany’s. She had selected the “sacrificio Maya,” and the waiter brought out a double shot mixture of unknown liquors along with a lighter. He began heating the rim of the glass, and when the liquid finally caught fire he instructed Brittany to drink using a straw as he spun the glass and shook cinnamon into the flame. The result was a sweet/bitter rush with a kick of flame and ash at the end which burned the throat. After witnessing the spectacle, we were all impressed and had to order one of our own. It was even better than blowing out birthday candles!

This morning I woke up early and got to work with laundry, house cleaning and graduate school researching. Tomorrow I’ll do a three day cycle with Chiara in the forest fragments in CBETA with the Griffin group. For the time being we are on a system where three of us go with Sarie and one of us rotates with Chiara so she has help monitoring the males for her project. I had been to CBETA on my very first day with Chiara and Jason, but just in one small area so I don’t really know what to expect. I have heard from others that it is a much tougher area that has more dense undergrowth and few trails. So we’ll see how it goes!

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Photography adventures, deadly caterpillars and Jason's departure

10:10 p.m. Friday, Oct. 8, 2010 – La Casa, Palenque, Mexico

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It’s been a cycle and a half since I last wrote, but Motiepa—the first group we followed after the four day break—proved to be pretty straight forward and uneventful. The monkeys didn’t give us too much trouble, and we actually found them hanging out right above the road near the trail head. They did eventually move into the forest more, but much of our time was spent sitting on the hot asphalt in the sun, staring up at one of their favorite fruit trees. While working under the dense canopy we are used to the heat and humidity, but not so much the direct sunlight. So our umbrellas served more as parasols than paraguas (Spanish for umbrellas, notice the “for sun” vs. “for water” Latin roots).

Another by-product of standing out on the road was getting approached a lot by locals and tourists. Generally we don’t interact too often with tourists—we hear them from a distance but we spend most of our time off the main paths. Our encounters vary, often resulting in Sarie lecturing them for yelling to get the attention of the monkeys, which obviously disrupts our behavioral study and results in her wrath. But this particular cycle we met several extremely likable groups who were respectful of the forest and its creatures, and sincerely interested about our work.

Over the break we received some bittersweet news, Jason would leaving shortly to go work with another of Dr. Estrada’s graduate students near Playa del Carman for his remaining time here. He’ll be helping the student get started on her study with spider monkeys. While we’re all very jealous that he’ll be living it up on the beach and gaining experience with a different species, we will miss him very much. So on our day off we all went to play cards at his favorite hang out, Mono Blanco in El Panchan.

Next we tackled the Balams, who gave us a good work out and never seemed to rest or settle down like good howler monkeys are supposed to—at least according to the scientists who follow them. Today, day two of the Balams, Sarie gave me the go ahead to bring my DSLR to the field. It’s something I obviously have been planning to do ever since I got here, but have been very apprehensive for several reasons. For one, it is very dear to my heart and wallet and the forest is not a forgiving place. It normally rains at least a little everyday, and often downpours. Also the gear is not light, and would be a huge burden on top of all my other gear. Plus, I’m here to work. While the occasional snap shot with a point and shoot is not that disruptive, busting out my DSLR and assorted lenses is a little more time consuming and distracting. I tend to go in “the zone” as a photographer, and I was worried about trying to multitask and juggle my more important responsibility as a behavioral researcher. But the weather has been unusually dry and clear, so I decided to take the chance while I still could.

Unfortunately it was my day to perform the scans, which is generally the most time consuming of the duties because it entails taking the GPS coordinates and recoding the behaviors of all the individuals every 15 minutes. So I got a little stressed out trying to follow the monkeys with a heavy backpack, and take photos while still being productive and keeping tabs on everyone. The Balams took us to a remote area with a lot of crumbling Mayan foundations, a pain to walk on but fascinating to examine.

While the monkeys didn’t come down as low as I had hoped, I still managed to get a few decent shots. But when they’re residing at the top of the canopy with the sun directly behind them, they are reduced to mere silhouettes in my viewfinder. It rained for a bit, but I brought a sturdy camera backpack with a good rain cover so my gear was pretty well-protected.

However, my camera proved to be more useful for things a little more at our level. Towards the end of the work day we were clustered under a tree, staring up at the monkeys and straining our necks per usual. I reached in front of me to grab a thick liana (wooded vine) to hold onto for support. The instant I tightened my grip around the vine I experienced intense pain and shock, and I pulled back my hand to reveal a green and purple, heavily armed caterpillar on the other side of the liana. Yes, I realize a caterpillar hardly sounds dangerous, but this guy packed a powerful punch. The potent burning sensation in my finger didn’t subside, but rather steadily increased until my whole hand felt like it was on fire. I could see angry welts developing at each of the six contact points my index finger had with one of the stinging barbs. And while my finger began to swell and throb, my thoughts had shifted urgently in another direction.

“Must grab my camera!” I switched from telephoto to macro, and set up shot after shot of the decorative insect while it stood perfectly still—understandably unafraid of anything. The sting was definitely one of the most painful I’ve ever experienced, but having it occur on the one day I brought my camera (and macro lens to boot) made the pain more than worthwhile. Call me a masochist, but I came out of the experience totally pleased with the results (and at least the sting was on my non-shutter finger).

Today was Jason’s departure day so we all made a group dinner and shared a toast in his honor—wishing him luck on his new adventure.

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Weather and wisdom

9:55 p.m. Saturday, Oct. 2, 2010 – La Casa, Palenque, Mexico

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While the change in seasons here are nothing like my beloved North Carolina, I'm still noticing distinct differences besides the massive increase in precipitation. The average daily temperature has dropped about ten degrees since I first arrived (closer to 20 at night), and when it's not raining the weather is quite pleasant and not so unbearably hot. I’ve even busted out jeans on a few occasions. The cold showers have become more of a daily nuisance rather than a daily six minutes of bliss, and I now completely utilize my one, thin sheet rather than kicking it off early in the night.

Some things I’ve learned/am still getting used to:

1) Change is extremely difficult to hold on to, but is also necessary for survival here. You can’t break anything over a $50 peso bill on the street (~$5 USD) and often not even that. Unfortunately, the ATM usually spits out $200 MXN bills in your hand (sounds like a lot but is less than $20 USD), so trying to break them is a constant mission. If you were dropped off around here with only a $200 bill you would probably starve. Also, dealing with the bill (la cuenta) at a restaurant is always a huge ordeal. They only provide the total for the entire group—usually scribbled in pen on a napkin—so it always takes us a while to figure out who owes what and how much with tip.

2) My understanding (or lack thereof) of the Mexican postal system can best be illustrated by the following email to my good friend Liz:

Dearest Liz,

Please send me your address. That does not mean you will get any mail necessarily, I'll leave that in the hands of the Mexican postal system which are perhaps the worst hands a piece of mail can be in. I don't even have an address here (just some vague directions to an unnumbered house on an unnamed road), and the whole town of Palenque seems to be out of postage stamps. I've heard that letters/packages can take months to deliver--if at all. And yet all the vendors still sell postcards to the tourists! Figures.

On second thought, I will place my message in a bottle for you and send it adrift and hope that it floats up the Atlantic Gulf Stream, is blown into the Charles by a Nor'easter, picked up by a homeless woman, eaten, pooped out on the street, swept up into a trash can, dumped into a garbage truck, driven by the truck to your apartment, dropped out on the street, picked up by the mail man, and delivered into your mail box. Because THAT will happen faster and more reliably than Mexican post.

So, you should definitely be holding your breath. That is, if you have a lung capacity 86400x that of the harbor porpoise.

3) I find myself dreaming more than is healthy about howler monkeys; I’m starting to have a reoccurring one where I panic because I can’t find them.

4) My body is perpetually itching and covered in bug bites.

5) I’m still trying to find ways to get ahead of the ants that infiltrate our kitchen daily. My latest struggle has been over my jar of Nutella (a delicious hazelnut/chocolate spread similar to peanut butter, for those who are unfortunate to have never tried it). I discovered quickly that ants can even find their way into a tightly screwed jar. So I started putting my peanut butter and Nutella in the fridge, which works fine for peanut butter. But the Nutella does not fare well in cold temperatures, and became so hard that I couldn’t even stick a knife in it. I tried to microwave it or a few seconds, but didn’t realize there was still a tiny bit of foil left around the rim. The microwave quickly notified me of this by flashing bright white and sparking. After nearly setting our kitchen on fire, I decided to try a different approach. I took a bowl of water and rested the jar in the middle of it. I now had a nice mote protecting my Nutella. After a week my jar remains untouched, but ants are not above committing suicide in attempts to cross the water. Their bodies float around the bowl, testament to their foolish devotion to the queen, but none have managed to successfully cross the liquid barrier. Yet.

Adjustment is hard, but sometimes all it takes is a bowl of water.

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