Saturday, September 29, 2012

Ready for the next 1/4 of century





Cory's Shearwater chick.

I passed my last birthday in Gran Canaria, one of the islands of the Archipelago of Canary Islands. By the time the clock marked 0:00, I was in a car going up a mountain with two people that I hardly knew 24h before. It was the first night of the annual field campaign to anneal Cory's shearwater chicks, and my first time in a field campaign out of the practices of the university. It was the best birthday present I had so far.

The work was hard, not only because we had to find the nests of the shearwaters hidden among the rocks of a steep cliff that left to the sea and the ground was sandy and instable but also because we had to do it at night. This was because is the time when the adults come back from the sea to feed the chicks and, the PhD student that came with us needed to see their parasites.

Larus ridibundus in Texel
If this wasn't enough, obviously we had to use head torches and, given that it was the beginning of the autumn and the island was almost tropical, you can imagine that we had a nice sample of the 6-legged wildlife flying just onto our faces.

 Additionally, some nests were situated together inside caves, and we had to crawl inside then on that dusty ground covered by feathers, feaces and fleas. Needless to say that I loved the experience. During the day, after sleeping some hours, I went to the cyber cafĂ© (if you could call it like that...) to see if I had any news of my prospective boss, the PhD student of Morocco.


George & Infant


After the field campaign, I spent one day at the house of the Great Portuguese before flying to the Neatherlands and cross them to reach Texel, the small island where the Catalan and I went to represent our research group in an international seabirds' dissection workshop. Then run to Barcelona again, just enough time to pack and hit Madrid to quickly prepare everything to start the best period of my life so far, going after macaques in Morocco. 5 months later, I had a break in Spain preparing PhD applications and proposals and arranging everything to get here. After others 5 months, I’m getting everything ready for my first lonely travel in Africa while waiting to know if I get an amazing job I applied for or not. Guess this has being a really amazing year; but I have the feeling that the next quarter of century is going to be unbelievable

Thursday, September 20, 2012

The kodamas-like forest and the 'mimic-your-favorite-animal' day



Another misty and cloudy day in the kingdom of samangos and, I don't know if is because of this or because of the fact that in that last 4 days I had been working around 40h on the field, plus several hours of computer work and around 15-20h of sleep, but the thicket looked like a magical forest.

The wind and the fog make all sounds coming from further than some tens of metres to disappear and the samangos seem more relaxed...apart from more likely to vanish on the mist when this turns too dense, fortunately, not too often.

If one of the most shocking things of the first misty day was the almost absence of inter-specific encounters, last day was marked by them.

First were the baboons, who slept close to the troop and were around for a couple of hours (congratulations new chacma mums, your babies are extremely cute). After they left, my samangos seemed to think that the baboons had a point on being on the ground and spent a great amount of time with Papio-complex, feeding on grass, herbs and leaf litter.



When was I attacked by a terrestrial lamprey?

Then we had a pair of guests trying hardly to fit on the troop, feeding among it (even nearly touching the samangos), following us for hours, grooming each other and even letting me be as close as 5m from them! It was a couple of bushbucks!!!

Additionally, as I said in previous posts, new season usually is synonym of changes on ranging patterns, so they frequent areas that they used very rarely in the months before. This day they took me to the furthest side of the Bushbuck trail where I have ever been with them.

Bushbucks trying to be adopted by the troop

Along our way, and after some hours immersed in the acacia forest, we dived in a very (x5) thick thicket where, as one of the baboon people told me the other day, the prickles have prickles! In the heart of the mess I found the ruins and leftovers of a lost civilization, one more technologically developed than the Bush man...the former owners of the property. Well, ok, is not as interesting as finding a Mayan pyramid, but after hours of vines and thorns is kind of exciting!

Mysterious ruins


With less than two hours left before dusk, I was expecting that the samangos, finally, showed me their secret sleeping site of the Bushbuck trail…instead, they preferred to run away and go all the way back to the area of the settlements, traveling 500m in 30 minutes (they normally walk less than 1km per day!!). When I finished the last scan, I started to prepare the equipment for the sleeping site data collection…but they were gone. I couldn’t see nor hear any monkey and the mist was thicker than ever. I ran around all the sleeping sites nearby, only managing to get lost in the forest when it was already dark and the fog didn’t let the light of my torch to reach beyond a couple of meters.


By the time I arrived to the Barn, I saw that the stuff of the Belgian weren’t there. I called through the radio (We finally have!) but she didn’t replay, so I ran to Bush Camp, imaging her in the middle of the evergreen forest trying to make her way home… But no, she was in the kitchen chatting with the Germans and the Vendas. At least, as a compensation for my heart stroke, I had a nice piece of apple cake. Fair enough.

Friday, September 14, 2012

Trailer of the wet season



Dry season is supposed to end between October and November. However, we are getting some advances on how wet is like with the arrival of spring.

After a really misty day, which I spent doing phenology (The evergreen forest acquires a disturbing look with the fog, even more if you are listening to the BSO of The Princess Mononoke), came a night of heavy rain and lightnings which showed us that our roof not only amplifies the sound in a way that makes you feel as the Apocalypses has just started, but also that it has sieve-complex. My room is rather fine, only one leak...just above the closet where I usually keep my laptop. Miraculously, it's still working.


Fortunately, 20 minutes before I had to go with the monkeys , the rain stopped, leaving behind a humid and misty day in which the monkeys traveled slowly and vigilant, even if we had no inter-specific encounters that day.


Spring here is, like in Europe, a little bit schizophrenic and, after a couple of days drowned in mist and cold came a extremely hot day that quickly evaporated the moisture on the soil, charging the atmosphere in water so you sweat even when doing computer work.

The end of the dry season brings some food scarcity, with all the seedpods that my samangos used to feed on, lying empty on the ground. Fortunately, there are still some leaves on the sweet thorns (Acacia karoo) which the monkeys chew joyfully, as well as herbs, grass and the delicatessen of Red sacred coral tree (Erythrina lysistemon) flowers. Guess that, as long as you are committed to eat whatever living been around that you can catch, you never starve.

Bonnie, my occasional field assistant

Other change along with the season is the ranging pattern. House troop, finally, took me to one of their, until now, less frequent sleeping site. This one is about 1km away from the settlements, near the road that goes to an impressive waterfall and some meters away from a stream. The only problem was coming back from there, because the vegetation was a maze, and of course, be there on time next morning. Somehow, I made it...though I loose them for an hour after the second scan. Nothing like going up and down climbing rocks and avoiding thorns at 6 in the morning, after having worked 12h the day before and slept 6 hours...if I can still do this might be than I'm not that old after all... I'm turning 1/4 century soon and I'm scared and paranoid.



Last but not least, warmth and rain are accompanied by spiders and snakes. A spider with the abdomen of the size of R2 (2 rands) insisted in taking a shower with me. It came back quiet sad to its hole when I rejected the offer. I don’t need more weird bites, I already have some since the second week that are still there ( I guess I should be worry, but if they are going to kill me at least it seems they will take their time. Fair enough). Nonetheless, I haven't found a snake yet in the forest, but I think that I will survive if I leave without that…

Monday, September 10, 2012

T.I.S.A: The Daily Sun

Well, here is the second episode of T.I.S.A, some crazy articles of one of the most selled newspapers in the country, the Daily Sun. Hope you enjoy it.
Now we now the true drama...

ah...that's why we never have them around here
Amen


Sunday, September 9, 2012

Back with the monkeys

My month on the predator side of the project expired, even if the plan when I got here was 3 months of each, but it couldn't be, c'est la vie.

Bye, bye to the walks under the sun, sleeping until passed the sunrise, social life and free time. Back to 12-14h of thorns and cute evil monkeys running away at the scan time. And now that the dry season is ending and the temperatures are increasing, the spiders start to set their webs on the forest (the veil in your face) and the likelihood of encountering a snake is much greater. Actually, some of the Germans saw a Spitting cobra last week when following my troop (great!).

After sleeping 5 hours, because an application for a job kept me awake until late, I had my monkey breakfast, which consist in porridge (people laugh at me, but one appreciates to don't need to chew to fill the stomach at 4-5 a.m) and coffee, this time mixed with chicory which, apparently is typical, and also much cheaper (best choice for a future pizza-maker).



Then I walked to the sleeping site close to the Owner's garden where the monkeys were already jumping from one branch to the other in the mist, pretending that they hadn’t missed me, ha.



Not much later, they went close to the Barn, giving me the chance of picking my camera up and take some pictures of them on the PhD student's roof or messing in the pile of ash of the braai.

Soon, I started to see the monkeys with the tags that a different research group put them last week. Now the Germans call Greg Jack because of Jack Sparrow...I don't think he gives a s^@t, so he has 2 or even 3 different names.



During the day we had several encounters with the local fauna, including dassies, bushbucks (daily) and tree funny warthogs a little bit unsure about if they should escape from me or not. The best was a lonely ibis that was on the ground doing the call they make at dusk and dawn, while the monkeys, chewing flowers looked at it like saying 'are you nuts, man?'


The sleeping time was crazy; first with Guinea fowl that came to sleep around and then I heard many of the monkeys vocalizing, booms, pyows and branches shaking. Trying to enter all the data, I managed to walk to the place without getting my legs broken (is a f&%cking stony place). The Belgian was there with Barn troop...and an eagle too! With so many emotions, it doesn't shock that the monkeys took nearly one hour after the sunset before to sleep.

Back at the Barn, the Israelian had prepared a sushi night which also served as farewell dinner for the last Frenchs, it's a pity that the long day transformed me into a grumpy zombie (It's not healthy to work the double of hours that you sleep).


Next 'morning', the Belgian and I went back to the sleeping site and dived to collect the data of each of our troops. Mines woke up early and started to walk towards the road within the mist. There we found one of the German students that was supposed to be following Barn troop. I told her that the troop around was House and she told me that she expected it, because Barn troop never went there. Never is a huge word when you have only been following the monkeys for 2 weeks, I don’t dare to say it after 4 months, but I guess that that explains everything.



After she went to asked the Belgian about the other troop, the monkeys and me had a peaceful cloudy-misty day without any bad encounter (now I’m all the time expecting a snake), while thinking in the meeting with the director of the project.




Around 15h, they left the acacia forest and went to the Owner’s garden to feed on a huge Broom-cluster fig. They were all perfect on the ground chewing figs when, suddenly, they started with their squeals and I felt something slobbery on my neck; Gunter, of course, the smelliest dog ever.



Close to the sleeping time, I stopped to watch some of the monkeys that, again, were feeding on figs; this time in the forest. It was pretty funny to watch them fighting with each other for the fruits, even if there were more than enough for everybody. Guess selfishness comes from far in our phylogeny.


Next day I only had sleeping sites, but on Friday I had to follow them again and it was a really weird day. It was raining all the night until 20 minutes before I left, and then the mist came, giving a kind of dream-like landscape, where the monkeys walked quietly and vigilant.











Thursday, September 6, 2012

Culture: The origin of the Venda People



We found a book about African folklore in the Barn, one day that we were crazy looking for the charger for the spotlight that we use in leopard trapping. Here is the fragment in which the origin of Venda people, according to their tradition is explained. By the way, the Vendas are the dominant group around here (apart from the immigrants from Zimbabwe), that is why:

<<Kale, kale –long, long ago- before there were Venda people in the world, there was a large snake called Tharu (Python) living on the mountain slopes pf the present land of the Vedas. That which came about happened during a year of prolonged drought, It was then that Tharu divided humself into two parts- Thoho, the Head, and Tshamutshila, the Tail. When Tharu had so divided himself, each part became a snake. They lived on, until one day Thoho said to Tshamutshila: “The drough has brought great famine everywhere. I fear that we shall die of hunger unless we do something to avoid starvation. Therefore, let us separate. You go westward in search of food, and I shall search in the east.”

Then Tshamutshila went westward searching, into the land that is now the country of the Vendas. When he arrived in that place he became a human being. He gathered herds of cattle, he married many wives (Let me just say that religions and traditions seem to be in agreement that women have a different origin than men…¬¬’ anda que…) bore Tshamutshila numerous children. These numerous children married and begot more children, and in time all these people became a tribe. Tshamutshila became their chief, and he was called by the name Ramabulana. He built Musanda, meaning Great Place, and from there he ruled.

The land of the Venda people was fertile and full of rivers and springs, and rain was plentiful. The people grew maize, millet, squash, pumpkins, peanuts, sweet potatoes, cassava, beans, sweet cane and many other kinds of crops. They had cattle, sheep, goats, fowls, dogs and cats. Food was plentiful and the people were prosperous. Tshamutshila, or Ramabulana as he was known, became a chief whose name was in far-off lands.

Now, Thoho went east to a place in what is now Mozambique, and there he founded the Ronga people. In time he also turned human, and he came to be known by the name Nyamusoro. But the lands he rued were lands of drought and famine. The soil was not fertile, there were not many rivers and little rain fell. In order to procure food for himself, Nyamusoro became a wandering singer and entertainer. He travelled from one village to another, from one country to another and from one Great Place (dweling of a chief) to another. He sang and danced in return for food to eat and beer to drink. And he arrived one day at the Great Place of Ramabulana, he who founded rhe Venda nation. He danced and sang at the outer gate of the Great Place, and the people gathered until there was a great crowd. His dancing stirred up a cloud of dust that rose into the sky and hung there over the town.

Many people went to Ramabulana to urge him to come and see the dancing, but he refused. Knowing thet he and Nyamusoro were parts of Tharu, The Python, he feared that the two parts would again be joined. So he would not listen to those who urged him to come to the town gate. But Ramabulana’s wives implored him even more strongly than others. They sang:

“Go out of your house, O Vhamusanda,
For Nyamusoro’s singing and dancingm O Vhamusanda.
It is a spectacle too great to be missed by any living person,
A sight never before seem or heard,
Come out and go to the gate, O Vhamusanda!”

Importuned this way, at last Ramabulana could not resist. He agreed to go to the gate to hear Nyamusoro sing and see him dance, He arose. He went to the gate where the great crowd was watching, and where the dust was still rising from the groud into the air. He went forward, till he and Nyamusoro saw each other. And instantly they came together, the two parts of Tharu, and they joined and became Tharu the Phyton again. And even as the Venda people watched, Tharu coiled and uncoiled and then made his way out of the town into the forest.

Thus Great Place of Ramabulana was a Great Place without a chief. Ramabulana`s sons grew up, they married and had children; but they quarrelled among themselves and could not agree on anything. So they parted, each of the sons taking his family and his followers. Each chose a different direction. Werever one of the, settled with his people he became a chief. Thus Venda people spread across the country, all of the progeny of Ramabulana, who began as a part of Tharu, and who returned to Tharu.

(From “A Treasury of African Folklore- Harold Courlander”)

A wedding on the bush



Finally, the event announced since I arrived came, the wedding of the leader & the co-leader.

Two days before, we even had a 'hen party' (The perversion of language never will end up of surprising me...). The typical games of toilet paper bride dresses among others reminded me once again that marriage is not for me (I remit you again to the  Nina Simone's song) and that the Western (well, probably worldwide) idea of what is feminine needs an urgent review. Sigh. Anyway, people seemed to enjoy it, specially the bride and that's the important point, plus everyone should do whatever makes her/him happy (or thinks that would), being the limits other people's freedom (the most simple theories seem to be the hardest to become true), so don't let my analytical habits to ruin you the party.

The Doomsday arrived (name that the French-Spaniard used to use to joke with the groom). The couple and its family and friends went to town to see if Home Affairs decided to marry or not (still burocratic nightmares are to Africa what H to water).

In the mountain, however, we had other business. After a morning drowned in the database of the monkeys, I went to meet the Belgian at Wilderness; the main course of the wedding dinner had arrived, a warthog.

The Owner and his son started to prepare the corpse inside the 'roasting machine', while the Belgian and I tried to make coals. Once everything was ready, our task was watching the machine so it didn't stop rotating the hog and, each half an hour, change the coals if necessary and poor some alcoholic mix on the meat so it didn't get dry. Given that it takes 6h to cook, choosing the people that can spend 12h watching monkeys seemed a logical resolution.

Around 15h, people had come back from town and we were preparing things for the dinner. After, I went to get dress (I always feel like a travestite when I have to wear skirts and related) leaving the warthog on the Belgian's hands until I came back  to replace her. Later she came back and I could go for a while to the reception.

There I could taste, finally, the mopane worms. With coating they are fine, no much flavor and slightly crunchy...without, they don't look very yummy and is kind of difficult to chew the legs and hairs. I could eat them on an emergency, but they are not my cup of tea.

After sunset and accompanied by a big orange moon, we headed back to Wilderness in procession lighting our way with oil lamps.

The dinner was amazing, a kind of buffet of South African specialties: pap with tomato sauce, pumpkin balls, gems with butter and sugar, babootie, and, of course, the warthog (though, unfortunately, was a little bit dry, even if we followed all the instructions). The cake was rather original.

And finally, dance and chat around the fire, drinking Amarula and chewing some biltong on of the cliffs.