Steel Pan Band

After living here for a couple months I have settled in and become quite comfortable with the everyday work and visits to town. I’m pretty good at navigating the country, as well as the culture. I still find myself a little confused sometimes, but all in all I have made a home and life here.

Partly because of this, I am finding less to write about. Things seem more normal and the stories less worthy of telling. While we are still going on adventures and meeting new people, it’s all just life.

We have a very efficient group which means lots of time off and lots more vacation. This also means spending more money and doing less Portuguese and productive stuff but when is the next time I will be in Trinidad!?!?!

We went back to Tobago for almost a week, which was great. Got to see Dr. P again and stay at his place. Went SCUBA diving on a beautiful reef with some friends and saw all kinds of cool creatures. One highlight was Sunday School.

Sunday School, as described in the guidebook, is not for the pious. It is a big party on Sunday nights in a little town. It is basically what normally happens on Sunday nights around here but they gave it a name so they could attract and overcharge tourists. They did have a steel pan band and it was the first live one I have seen here (They don’t really play until after Christmas when people are really gearing up for carnival). It was made up of young musicians who were enjoying playing as much as we enjoyed listening.

We were traveling with a couple of locals, one of whom is a dance instructor, so we spent much of the evening learning to dance to calypso while the older sailboat tourists looked on. Some of the older, gentlemanly regulars could really cut a rug and would go around the circle looking for willing partners. Most would nervously shrug them off as they glanced at their significant others but we were all partner-less. I can best describe it as salsa with some swing but it is energetic with lots of twirls (which is always fun) and easy to do with a good lead. As it got later and the band finished up and blaring Soca ushered in a younger crowd.

My new friend Marta made this night what it was. She is a masters student from Spain who lived with us for a bit and came along to Tobago and other adventures as well. Long after everyone else had gotten board or gone to bed she and I were still dancing, laughing, and practicing my Spanish!

SATURDAY NIGHT

SATURDAY NIGHT

In the middle of the recap we take a day of to go to the beach and dry out our feet to avoid fungus. It is also an important mental break to keep us motivated. This time we all piled into the truck and went to Toco on the North East tip of the island. We stayed with Auntie Patsy, an older Trinidadian woman who wore relatively see through moo moos and sported a decent beard. She was a strong lady and an entrepreneur, juggling a number a businesses including providing all the sea moss to nestle for a popular drink and running this boarding house/hostel. She cooked all our meals for us with the main (read as only) ingredient being homemade BBQ sauce and would read us random disjointed snippets from the morning paper as we ate.

The beach was beautiful! Whats new… white sand beaches, coral reefs, coconut trees you know the drill by now. But we did meet some locals on the beach who were celebrating a graduation from the masters program at UWI (University of the West Indies). They were mostly biologists too and it was interesting to hear more about the research they were doing on the island. They invited us over for a poolside BBQ. We were excited to get to lime with some locals and soon found out it was even more than we had hoped for. They were staying at an estate owned by the biggest Soca star of Trinidad.

We arrived to find a huge house with a deck equipped with many loud speakers blastin music and an infinity pool over looking the valley. There was a large grill filled with chicken and ribs being cooked by the house chef who danced along to the tunes as he re-applied BBQ sauce. There was another building with a pool table on the bottom story and an open porch on top with a kitchen, hammocks and a bar. There was yet another building with another deck with a hot tub. It was the spot! You can try and imagine the 8 of us rolling into this place a little worst for wear from the recap and the beach and thinking we had fallen into a music video. But without all the nasty stuff that comes along with the nice house. Everyone was really well educated and interested in what we were doing there and our future plans as biologists. It was a very different crowd from the regulars in Arima and a refreshing look at a different side of Trinidad.

Even more exciting, one of the guys there lived in Brasil for 4 years so I got to practice my blossoming Portuguese with him! He had even been to my town, Mossoro, and gave me a few local words from that area. It was very exciting.

And don’t worry, we made it home before Auntie Pasty got too worried.

WET

WET

I have gotten much better at being wet. Growing up in Tucson very little of the time I was wet and if you happened to get soaked, it never lasted long, evaporating in minutes usually giving you a necessary cooling off.

Claremont was not much different. When there was water around I often did everything in my power to stay dry, suffering teasing from my heartier north western friends, joking about my rain boots and 1^st rain jacket at age 20.

Here I spend almost all of my time soggy. If its not traipsing through the stream or using your butt to block the fast moving water so that you can see into the pool or riffle then it’s the rain. And since it’s the rainy season there is plenty of it. We have spent an hour or 2 just standing in the rain waiting for it to stop so we can go back to fishing. We watch as the water rises and we pray that it doesn’t get too murky, forcing us to return the next day to finish the job. We are on constant watch for flash floods when working that would threaten to wash all out bottled fish away. By the end of the day our finger tips are always pruney and our feet pasty white (as one girl said, like a cadaver!). Even beach day can be a rainy affair.

It took some getting used to. Some adjustments I made were bringing a rain jacket. Not to stay dry because it makes you sweat enough to soak your clothes anyway, but it creates a warm sauna feel inside. I also have what I call Post Fieldpants Pants, or dry shorts in the truck waiting for when I get back to the top. They help avoid crotch rot and make the ride home much more enjoyable.

Who would have thought it of the desert rat from Tucson but some of my favorite moments have been when I was hiking in the rain and stopped to hear the thousand drops hitting layers of leaves all the way down to the floor. You can feel it soaking your hair and beads rolling across your brow, ever growing and gathering speed as they traverse down your check. The bugs disappear and it smells fresh and clean and cool. The wet is growing on me.

Justin’s Place

Justin’s Place

For our couple days off, we decided to go back into “Da Bush” on a hike to the north coast. After finishing up our chores of cleaning the house, running errands around town, and of course the game, we packed up our backpacks and headed out on the 12 mile trail down to the ocean.

We left from Brasso Seco, a little town not far from here where our boss lives. I went with Meredith, and the two newer interns John and Jen, and our cool manager Brian and his girlfriend Brie. We met Max and Lev who had set out a day ahead of us down there. The hike was beautiful. It was a much easier and nicer trail than the ones we use to get to the work streams, and we took our time looking at butterflies, fungus and the landscape. Imagine how long it takes a bunch of science nerds to get down a mountain through a jungle of cool stuff… a long time.

It was about 8 miles down to a beautiful Paria Waterfall where we took a relaxing swim. Then we set out along the coast, weaving down to the beach and then up through the jungle to the next beautiful bay. All along the sandy beaches there were little huts up on the shore where people were living. Each shanty was built out of wood and bamboo from the area and sheet metal brought in on boats I suppose. They were inhabited by mostly older rasta men who clearly all knew each other and had created their own community out there. There were men with boats and they carried people and good, helping everyone out in trade for things like fruit.

We made it to Justin’s place just in time for a dip in the ocean before dark. Justin is an old man who is one of the few remaining descendents of the native Karina tribe. He has lived on the north coast for 19 years and when asked if he would be there in a few years he responded, “boy, I gonna die here.” He had built a number of little shelters next to his own, which he lets people come and stay in. Mostly it is other friends and family from around Trinidad but the project made a connection with him in the past and so we know and visit him every couple months. He spends his time cleaning up around his land, collecting fruit and cooking while singing to loudly playing Reggae. In fact the music was on constantly, I figure it keeps him from getting lonely.

We spent two nights at Justin’s and they were very relaxing. The ocean was rough and it rained off and on so we spent most of our time on his kitchen/porch chatting playing cards and reflecting. I am very bad at doing nothing but it was a great place for me because it forced me to slow down and stay still. He made delicious jungle pot dishes out of things that he had and that we had brought, combinations you would not image to taste good together but were delicious!

After a couple nights we arranged for one of his friends to pick us up in a boat and take us along the coast to the nearest town. We were to rendezvous at 9 in the morning at one of the points that jutted out into the ocean. He couldn’t come into the beach because the seas were too high. We got up, thanked Justin and headed out. Through large jesters with the two men on the boat we realized that we were to creep out along a rocky cliff, dodging waves and time our drop into the boat with our packs on. Ready for some adventure we went one by one all clearing the lurching hull of the boat and only getting a little wet. It was very exciting. There was no real danger.

In town we found a little guest house to stay in where we could take a shower and nurse the many sand fly bites we had sustained at Justin’s rustic retreat. We spend a day on this beautiful beach that had just enough breeze to keep the bugs off and plenty of sun to dry out our soggy bodies and clothes. We found a friendly local women who had lived in PA for many years who offered to make us lunch AND dinner. It was delicious and just what we needed. We checked out the local Rec Club to see what the Saturday night life was like. We found many people of many ages drinking Carib and Stag beers chatting over blaring popular Soca tunes such as whistle song (ttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dga-mQOg8LY). I chatted with some of the younger people around and soaked up the cultural experience. I learned about where they went to school and what they were planning to do with their lives. It was a fun night as the older folks left us youngins to dance late into the night.

We had another day on the beach before we got a maxi to drive us home back to the other side of the mountains where we would soon begin work again.

Divali

Divali

I was very excited to find out that the Hindu holiday was on the 26^th of October, My Birthday! I recently found out that it actually falls on the new moon so it is not always on my birthday But this year YES!

It is a holiday of light when families remain at their homes to invite in friends and strangers. Those who celebrate the holiday at home do not eat meat and neither do those who visit them. Small, inviting oil candles called deyas are lit all over the houses. There are normally fireworks, but they are not allowed this year, so we had plenty of sparklers or starlights!

For 2 weeks leading up to the night of the 26^th there is a large festival on the west side of the island with food, crafts, and entertainment every night. When talking to our host dad Mahais, he offered to take us down there to check it out one night. So we all piled into his Maxi Taxi with him and his daughter and headed down south.

It was a large fair set up for the occasion with booths and a large stage. We hit the food first, sampling a little bit of everything and learning the names and ingredients from Mahais. It was most like Indian food but with a West Indian twist, using tropical ingredients that you can only get here like dasheen bush. We washed it down with a number of fresh juices: paw paw (papaya), barbadine, cane juice, and guava.

I then got a beautiful henna tattoo to match with Ruhini, the daughter who has grown attached to me. We cruised the shops with beautiful clothing for the holiday, bags and small crafts mostly imported from India. Then the show was starting so we found seats and watched a number of different acts. There was dancing and musical groups, but my favorite part was the play about one of the legions related to the holiday put on by a bunch of kids. There was waving to parents in the audience, there was stumbling to the correct location and the occasional yawn. Great!

It was a very relaxing environment with people of all ages and none of the stresses and leering of Arima. All in all a very pleasant evening.

On the night of the 26^th my friends made me dinner and a cake! And then we headed down to the other house to celebrate with our hosts. The entire property was lit up with deyas on structures built out of bamboo and metal. We all played with sparklers and noise making poppers while others set up the bamboo to be busted! Bustin’ the Bamboo is an activity that accompanies most celebrations here. It involves a large piece of bamboo, about 5 segments with the dividers knocked out except for the bottom one. Near this you put a small hole where you pour in the Kerosene. This is then lit and blown out in a rhythmic way to great large blasts that sound like cannon fire. We didn’t get a great piece of bamboo so the explosions quickly split it.

Without our own to bust we set out into Temple Village, the little Hindu cluster of houses across the street. The entire hillside was lit up with the deyas all along porches and rooflines and lining driveways. We found some young men showing off their bustin’ skills and people watching and chatting. Kids ran everywhere throwing poppers at each other’s feet and holding the burning sticks (never really realized why my mom was so concerned when we would play with them when we were young… now I get it).

A main theme of the celebration is inviting people into your home and offering them little bags of sweet dough and fruits. I was sharing my starlights with some little boys who pulled me up the hill to their house were there dad offered me one of the treats of the celebration. I talked with their family for a while soaking in the twinkling lights, the smell of sparklers and new company. It was an amazing birthday and a holiday, which I plan to celebrate in the coming years.

Na Na Na Na Na Na BAT CAVE!!

Another adventure was to the Na Na Na Na Na Na BAT CAVE!! Pierson organized an adventure to go look for snakes that come and feed on the roosting bats in a cave about an hour away. We took Jogi (our host here) ‘s brother as a guide to hike us to the opening and set out.

After a 2 hour drive to go probably 25 miles due to rain and flooding, it was only a 20 minute walk up the hill. As soon as we got there Pierson gets his headlamp on and heads down in. Each intern follows the amount that they are comfortable with: One heads all the way down through the small crawl through hole, another into the first couple rooms before it narrows, and I just went inside the first large room which was enough for my closterphobia to act up. On the ceiling were hundreds of bats and throughout the many tunnel work there were thousands and thousands, and many different species. We waited for Pierson to come out with something cool for about a half hour and for sure he comes clambering out with a small caiman in his hand. Not exactly what he had wanted but he was ok with it. HE took some great photos of it and I got to hold it! It had a super fat tummy, absolutely stuffed from feasting on all the bats it could handle, and could barely move. It was actually pretty funny how lethargic it was.

After he was returned and it began to grow dark they started to come out. First a trickle then tons, streaming out of the opening like a flood. I can see why people are scared of them, the sheer numbers of them at once are intimidating and they are not the best flyers as then come out so they would kinda run into you if you were not careful, as if they were going for you or something.

Anyway two cool adventures for the break. A couple more to come once I write them up but until then We started the 3^rd recap of my time here. So fish process fish process fish process for a while here.

Soca Warriors!

Soca Warriors!

I can’t go to a place where soccer is actually appreciated without going to a big game! The Soca Warriors are the Trinidadian National Team and they play their home games in a big stadium in Port of Spain. I got all the information, piled everyone into the car and we where off dressed in the closest to red and black garb we could find!

The game was against Barbados, a long standing rival, but seeing as the world cup is still a couple years out there were not as many people there as I had expected but there were plenty of dedicated fans! We made it in time to cruise the stadium getting free stuff form the cracker and phone company sponsors. There are two cell phone companies here and they are always competing with each other, trying to get the best events to sponsor and stuff, so they have great give aways. We just missed the tshirts but we got free airbrushed soca warrior arm tattoos to rep the team!

The game was a good one. We won 4 to 0 so there were many goals. Im pretty sure the refing made the game but we still had fun. When we where back in Arima we stopped at the grocery store for some stuff. As we where walking from across the street someone started yelling something at us as they often do but we quickly realized that it was not the standard “Whitey” or “Sexy White Girls” but “Soca Warriors!” We had a lovely cheering moment back and forth, showing off our tattoos and boasting the score.

Reciprocity…

Reciprocity…

We got through the second recap pretty smoothly. Being a second month-er is very nice because you get into the routine and you know what’s coming. There is still enough new and exciting things to keep it interesting but nothing is too surprising.

Pierson came through the ever-revolving door of our house. He is a PhD student from Florida State who loves snakes and hates Trinidad. He works here for his advisor on the project but is more into reptiles than fish and does not like the way the country is run (a little disorganized) or the people (a little distracted). He hunts for snakes constantly and when he sees one he goes into a wild animal frenzy sprinting at the movement in the brush and lunging in to grab it before he has any idea of what kind of snake it is.

Later came Brad, his partner for their section of the project. They are looking at the populations of fish that live with the guppies and compete with them called Rivulus. We call them the Brothers Riv. Brad it super level headed and really cool. He is older than all of us, in his late 30’s, but manages to put up with our early twenty antics with much grace. He also went to Pomona, which I was very excited about, but he has been gone long enough that it was less interesting to him. Regardless I brought up references all the time but he never really came around to it.

My favorite moment with these two was out fishing in a stream when Pierson takes off running through a deep pool and up the bank coming up with a Huge black snake with a yellow belly. It was a Chironies, a fast snake closely related to the coach-whip of Arizona (ask my dad about it, he is relatively familiar with this species). It shares some characterists with this snake including launching for the face. I stood back as Pierson walks back towards us with a big smile on his face, holding it by the tail as it flails around, doubling back to bite him. He is a very successful nature photographer and proceeds to coil it up and place it on the bank where it site for a hot second before lunging at his face and off through the stream, at which point he takes of after it again, and brings it back for another try for the perfect photo.

As this back and forth dance continues I hear something behind me. We are at the beginning of the trail still near some houses. As I look up the road I see a huge group of kids coming down for a swim in their favorite swimming hole (the one that Pierson just traipsed through to pull out the snake). They come up behind me and one by one their eyes expand as they realize what Pierson has. The local fear of all snakes regardless of danger is pervasive and intense. They ask me if he is killing it with his cutlass and I said no, that it was not a mean snake (in the back ground it lunges for his face) and he was just taking pictures then letting it go. They looked at me like I was crazy.

They start into the water playing on the bank a bit weary of us down the way with the snake. When he finishes he carries the snake to the far bank and encourages it up and away from the pool containing now happy kids playing. The snake had other plans and plunges back into its pool swimming around a bit to the sounds of screams and ducks under the bank into a hole. The fleeing kids scramble on to the bank, sure now that we Are absolutely crazy. Pierson starts up back to the car content with his photos leaving the menace in the swimming pool the kids have probably been visiting daily for their whole lives. When I give him the look he rolls his eyes and trudges back in, reaching up in the mud and finally pulling the 5 foot snake out by the tail. He takes it down the river a way where it slithers off into the jungle.

We walked back to the trunk leaving the kids horrified on the bank staring at their pool as the ripples go away and it glassed over again. I tried to explain that it was ok but they where not going to be convinced.

Better Mus' Come

Better Mus’ Come

I try to get the paper every time I am in town and look for interesting local events that are

coming up that I can rally the troops for. It is usually a matter of reading about it or hearing from someone that something is happening, looking it up online where I only find a phone number to call, than calling over and over again for 3 days until I finally talk to someone and get direction… But my persistence has paid off! A couple times One being a movie at the Trinidadian Film Festival.

The TT Film Festival hosted a number of movies showings all over the 2 islands made by Caribbean directors or having themes realated to the Caribbean. One feature was Sing Your Song a movie about Harry Bellefonte that I had seen at the Sundance Film Festival this past year.

This time we went to see Better Mus’ Come, a movie made by a young Jamaican direct about a young man trying to rise above gang violence in Jamaica during the cold war. Apparently different political parties vying for power where funding different gangs to duke it out on the street and increase their chances by killing everyone who wouldn’t vote for their guy. It was pretty heavy stuff but I was in the mood so it was good. It also felt relevant, as the gang violence here has been on the rise in the past decade or so and people frequently are discussing it.

The movie was shown at Trevor’s Edge, a little bar/restaurant near University of West Indies (UWI). There were all different types of people there, lots of students, both local and international, and artsy movie people from all over the Caribbean. It was a relaxed feel. The movie was projected from someone’s apple laptop both inside and out on the porch, and seats were set up around tables where people chatted and munched on burgers and fries. We got a little lost on the way and showed up just as it was starting. Because of this we had to stand outside the porch and lean on the gate but it actually allowed us to see more of the peoples reactions to the movie, which were just as interesting as the movie. People laughed when I was not expecting it and didn’t sometimes when we did.

At the end we moved inside for a question and answer session with the Director. He was a very articulate young Jamaican man who was clearly well educated and dedicated to his craft. The questions related to his art as well as the messages he was hoping to convey and again the audience reactions where the most interesting part,

relating the movie to the current situation here. After words I went and talked to the director for a bit and asked him to remind me of the first voice over line in the movie that I really liked. “Shadows stand upright in the corners of honest towns”

David Reznick Comes!

Alright, so I fell a little behind so here is catching up!

When I returned from Tobago, Dr. David Reznick, the founder of this project and Guppy expert extraordinaire was waiting for us. He has been studying guppies in Trinidad since the 70’s and thinks about nothing else. He is a small wiry man in his early 60s but still has a kick in his step, leading us down the forest trails with the determination of a

He stayed in one of the boy’s bunkrooms and would help chop when we were cooking. He only wore old t-shirts with frogs, snakes or fish on them and drank espresso like it was his job. When he spoke he would use only the biggest words possible, and in the most scientific way possible. It has been rumored that he reads his 2 and 4-year-old daughters Darwin’s the origin of species as a bed time story.

He would spend literally 6 hours straight in our fish lab staring into the tanks of guppies, moving them around, treating them for fungus and just watching. When you would ask him what he was doing he would go on about the types of fungus and their different host organisms and life cycles, using only scientific names of course. He would often repeat these long lectures so after a few times through I could kind of understand what he was saying.

Although we technically had another week of break we where quickly enlisted to help in a number of projects. Now like most great minds in his field, he is very disorganized, flaky, and unfocused; so the few tasks that he wanted to accomplish managed to drag out for the rest of the off time and into our next recap.

That being said it was very interesting to spend some time with the man behind the whole program. I feel like I learned a lot about what we are actually doing down here: the projects that have come before and those to come and how our work fits into the bigger picture. I also have a better understanding of the research side of academia that we don’t see at the Claremont and how it changes the profession.

Some highlights: fishing for predatory fish that eat guppies and learning how to ID them, going out at night and catching frogs, and having one of his dry, dry jokes (that only came out after a couple days) go straight over everybody’s head…

Dr. P’s Resort

Dr. P’s Resort

We had a brief break in between when the recap ended and when Dr. David Reznick came to visit in which we had to spend most of the time working. I took this ooportunity to travel to Tobago for 2 nights. I went with my friends Lev, Jack, and Max which was a great group to travel with. We got up very early one morning and took a taxi to Port of Spain where we took the 2 hour ferry to Scarborough, the biggest city on Tobago. Form here we hitched a bus to the town of Charlottesville. We had been advised to go to this town cause it is a sleepy little fishing town on the north end of the island away from the southern hub-bub where most of the tourist resorts are.

We got off the boat and where approached by a young man who said that his uncle had a guesthouse where we could stay. Having no other accommodations yet, we decided to check the place out. He called his uncle who came down the hill to meet us.

While we waited the young man guided us to a woman’s house. She served us a delicious meal of plantains, goat, and rice which we ate on the dock, watching the slow movement of the town.

Dr. P is a stately older man with a steady gaze and calm demeanor. He walked us up the hill and told us about his island: how it was different than Trinidad and how it had changed over the years. We turned off the main road and followed him along a little path, passing a small faded, white sigh with red lettering “Dr. P’s Resort”. As we passed a beautiful pink house he remarked that it was the house he was born in. We continued a little further, passing his current house to our little white house. It was a beautiful little two-bedroom house with a kitchen and bathroom and a porch overlooking the bay dotted with fishing boats. He showed us the ins and outs and after telling us it would cost 150 TT a night, which split 4 ways is US$ a night, we decided it was the place for us.

We walked down to the town and along the beach for a while talking with a couple fisherman as we went. They were used to tourists meandering through their town and offered to take us out in their boat fishing the next day. After more wandering and relaxing on the beach, we settled in a little bar at the end where a couple of locals were playing pool. They offered us the next game and we payed the 50 US cents to the bar tender. As usual I was the only woman in the place, but traveling with 3 men kept the fisherman at bay, asking each of them if they wer my boyfriend. Eventual one man offered to let me play pool on his team against his two friends. He said that he would help me and teach me a few things. On his first turn he didn’t make anything and the other guy put in a stripe or two. No one really knew what to do when, on my turn, I cleared all but one of our solids. It was a good night.

The next morning we arranged with Dr. P’s nephew, Kyson, to go out on his friends boat and go snorkeling. It was great snorkeling, the coral was very healthy and there were many fish to see. And I Love the ocean. Being biologist nerds, we all staying in the water for over an hour. I think Kyson and his friend thought we were a little crazy. When they finally pulled us out we drove around a bit to see the other coves in the bay then back to the dock. His friend had been fishing that morning and we got some tuna for dinner a long with some veggies from another one of Dr. P’s family members.

We walked over to pirates bay for another snorkel and saw the most beautiful sun set. We watched a little local soccer game in town and had another beer a local bar. Then we went back to our little cute house and cooked up our dinner.

The next morning we had to get up early and reverse the whole trip to make it back home in time to start working again with David. I would love to go back to Dr. P’s resort again.

The ants go marching one by one

I was squatting on the edge of the stream, peering into a pool for a tan flash when I see a frog hopping along the bank and into the water, then another came by, and then a big beetle too. I thought this curious and as I look up to see what’s around me Max tells me to watch out for the ants. I look to my right and about a meter or two away the ground is moving. I quickly hop to a rock in the middle of the water and we watch as a group of army ants marches along the bank. With amazing efficiency they cover every inch. There are scout ants the move ahead of the front line and up the stalks and branches of every plant along the way. Then there is the main mass of marchers that cover the ground from the bank back as far as I could see and is about 3 meters deep. These cover and break apart everything in their path, taking cues from the scouts. We saw them take apart bigger bugs but they can manage frogs all the way up to mice!!!! Then, there are the following trails that clean up what the mass has scavenged and take it back to wherever. Everything in their path was fleeing into the water or the air trying to get out of their way as they marched a path through the jungle. Very Cool!

“Educate a women and you educate a nation, Educate a man and you educate an individual.” –Andy Cupid, an older Rasta guy on the street of Arima.

“Educate a women and you educate a nation, Educate a man and you educate an individual.” –Andy Cupid, an older Rasta guy on the street of Arima. One day Zoe, Meredith, Jack and I were walking through the market getting our fruits and vegetables when we pass a stand where they sell plants. There are 5 or 6 older rasta guys sitting around having a couple beers and liming. One notices us walking by and pulls us over. Although we insist that we are running errands, which is not an acceptable excuse in Trinny Time, there is always a little time for a lime. He is wearing funky sun glasses that I associate with the 70’s and has dreads down to his waist that are wrapped up in his hat. He whispers, “hush” and waits for a beat of silence as we lean in close… then begins, “There’s a natural mystic flowing through the air” he sings. All his friends laugh and we smile as he said "I'm a capturer, soul adventurer.” Everyone bobs along and listens as he does his own rendition. He has a great voice for a guy singing on the streets of Arima and is really into entertaining. He then asks us our favorite bob Marley song and Meredith offers soul rebel. After a lively rendition of a great tune he thanks us for listening and begins to tell us a little bit more about his philosophy and offers up the gem that if you educate a women you educate a nation, if you educate a man you educate an individual. He explains that this is because we all came from women, that the man may have planted the seed, but the Woman is responsible for raising the nation. He is very spirited and asks each of one of us if we came from a woman, and with each yes reconfirming his point he gets more and more lively and excited. After a bit we explain that we must be on our way, and although they are persistent that we should stay a bit longer we insist, and with a kiss on each hand we are off. We often pass by this stand and I believe we have made some new friends who will want to have many more discussions and sing-alongs.

Liming

Lime [lim] verb (liming)- to hang out; to socialize or relax alone or with others : We just went into town to lime at the park; Where do you lime? noun- a period of time or event when hanging out and socializing occurred : Last night we had a great lime; Are you going to that lime at Jill’s House.

The Guppsters

Felipe the Russian Mexican from Canada Felipe is a PhD student working on guppy parasites. He comes down here for months at a time to work with the fish, but this time he only came for 2 weeks to collect fish to take back with him to study in Canada. He was born in Russian (where his mom is from) and moved to Mexico (where his dad is from) when he was young and stayed there through college. He then went to work on his PhD in Montreal but spends a lot of time in Trinidad. He speaks Russian and Spanish fluently, and English and French very, very well but with a Spanish/Russian accent that you can probably only imagine. He has spent a lot of time here so he knows a lot of people and good places to go. Every time he went into town I would try and go with him to meet his produce guy and such, and get to know the town better. Felipe could also do the Mr. Bean Dance spot on! He left a few days ago but it was really great to have him around and I hope to stay in touch if I ever get into parasites (Nick!?!). Captain Jack the Hunter Gatherer Jack is the tall blond Viking that was supposed to pick me up at the airport. He didn’t but he is still around helping out. It is his 4th month here and next he is heading off to Ecuador to visit some friends from when he was abroad there. We chat about that a lot. He spends most of his time talking about various fruits that are ready to be picked and about to be ripe around the house and at the field sites. He roasts coffee and makes coco from cacao. We always have bananas on hand. When he is not gathering food he is making bowls and jewelry out of coconut shells and various seeds he has collected from the forest. He is very sweet and just wants to live in simpler times, and man he would have been good at it! Reasonable Max the Cook Max is the oldest intern having been out of school for two years. He went to UC Berkley and spent a year in panama doing plant research. He now has a great mustache and worldly manner about him. He is our levelheaded old man who likes to just discuss things and go to bed early. He is the amazing cook who puts a lot of time and energy into his meals, focusing on the little details, adding things like fresh ginger to his orange juice and a hint of red wine to his stir fry. I am learning a lot about the little things that go a long way in cooking, but he gets a little intense about it. He is very smart and witty and says funny, clever things all the time. Meredith the Hoosier Lady Meredith is our only non-west-coaster and she is loud and proud about it. She is a super funny and can make great animal noises, really spot on. She is great for funky dancing, goofy outfits, and discussions of Indianan corn. This is her 3rd month, so she knows the whole process well, and she will be here till December. We get along really well and I’m glad she will be around my whole time here. Zoe the Scrippsie!!! Zoe is a sweetheart. She is very easy going, is always making things simple, and has a really refreshing honesty to her. It is really nice to have someone around who knows the same people, the same professors, and the same places and references from school. It creates a nice transitional space where we can just talk about the good old days as it were. Especially with school starting up again and thinking about not being there, its great to have someone to talk to and feel connected to. Also, we have are very scrippsie moments, and she is always there to make me feel better. Even though the group is great, there are always things people say that would not fly at the Claremonts or things that happen in town that we have a different awareness of than the others, and we can understand each others frustration with a situation. She will only be here the first month and I will miss her when she is gone. Will the Boss… Not really Will is the Field Manager so he is technically my boss but he is only 25 and prefers not to be seen as a figure of authority. He does keep things moving and in stickier situations, especially in the field, he really knows what he is doing, but the rest of the time he is really relaxed and fun to hang out with. He is very much that shy, nerdy kid from elementary school who wore dinosaur t-shirts but all grown up now. All you need is Lev Lev is the most difficult person to describe I would say. He is really into marshal arts, especially the ideological side of things. He does poi, which is the spiny firey balls that you see street performers doing sometimes, and he is teaching me with tennis balls on a string. He is very thoughtful about the things around him and loves just talking to people. He is also makes very funny faces and often says things that are really off the wall but hilarious. So that’s the group. Also, Amelia you will like to know that none of us are first children in birth order, and we are mostly last kids and an only child. Although, I shared your theory and we don’t believe it; some of us have very crazy older siblings. I will keep you filled in with turn over and such but I imagine the laid back dynamic and nerdy outdoorsy vibe will remain.

Processing: One Fish, Two Fish, Red Mark, Blue Mark

There are 4 jobs to processing: the anesthesiologist, the marker, photos, and data.

1. Two fish at a time get put in a chemical that puts them to sleep. This is a very important job because it dictates the speed of the entire process. They cant be in the liquid too long otherwise they die… and they have to be asleep by the time the next step is ready for them so that person isn’t waiting for them to fall asleep. This person is also in charge of moving around the tanks and making sure every fish ends up where it is supposed to end up. This was my first job. It was previously called the “fish bitch” but the scrippsie in me could not handle that name so I changed it to take after my wonderful sister and it actually stuck!

2. So after the anesthesiologist has knocked the guppy out, it gets passed to the Marker. (By the way, we cant handle the fish by hand because it is too rough on their scales so we must use plastic spoons with holes in them and other tools to move them around) The marker has a microscope and looks at the fish. If it has already been marked they read the mark to the data person. If it has not been caught before they give it a tattoo. The tattoo it a colorful plastic liquid that is injected just under the skin in a streak along its back, two for each fish. I have done this on practice fish but not real fish until I have practiced enough that they are sure I will not kill one of the study fish. And while I have not yet killed a fish, I still need some practice… these are tiny fish.

They also take scales from each fish to be analyzed in the lab to form a family tree of all the guppies caught. And they weigh each fish too.

3. The data person receives and records the information read out by the marker on long lists from the previous month (150 pages) with all the fish that have been tagged, matching recaught fish to old fish and recording new fish. I do not prefer this job. It’s hard for me to listen and remember the tags as I'm flipping through the pages. Silly I know but I get distracted and 2pink7green becomes all kinds of wrong combinations.

4 I like being the photographer. The photographer takes the fish from the scale (often relaying that info to the data person) and lays the hopefully still asleep fish on a white board. With a small paintbrush I align the fish to be straight and flat and then splay its tail fin out flat to see it all. The males are the best cause you get to see all their pretty colors and patterns. Sometimes when it’s the first time a fish has been caught it gets a “sexy picture.” This is when all the fins must be brushed out so you can see them instead of sleek along their body. Back in California someone uses the pictures to measure the fins and other morphological characteristics. Then, I take a picture with a really nice camera and dump them into a tank to recover. Sometime if they don’t wake up immediately you have to bubble them with the bubbles which seems to wake them up faster… I call it tickling them!

And that’s it! Very little thought goes into the whole process but we switch music picks and chat and goof the whole time. And things get really goofy when you have been processing for many hours straight. I have been laughing so hard.

The Recap

Six o’clock in the morning the itouch sings its song and I roll out of bed and suit up: orioles hat with two bandanas around my neck, one covering the back of my neck and the other around the front, a tank top tucked into my hiked up field pants, with a button up long sleeve over it all (this protects against what we call “plumber crack bites”). Then its tall wool socks and my boots with intense metal cleats, and over the boots and pants are gaiters. Gaiters are ankle to knee Kevlar sleeves that protect against snakebites, apparently an intern has never tested it but they claim they work. And that’s the outfit!

Then breakfast (cereal and soy milk) and packing. We each have a big backpacking pack that is old and smelly. We fill it with 5 gallon buckets, funnels, dip nets and empty water bottles, a combination of 2 liter, 1 liter, and ½ liter. We also have our dry bags with a lunch (peanut butter/jelly sandwich and crackers) and headlamps.

We set out in a beat up truck for about 30 minutes. We drive from the Arima Valley to the Guanapo river valley, just to the east, along a very windy, bumpy road. Then we hike.

Depending on which of the 4 rivers we are going to it’s a 20-60 minutes hike. The shortest one is to Taylor and it is just down the hill through the jungle. The longest, Upper Lalaja, takes us down the hill and up through the stream for another 30-40 minutes, and through the stream means trudging up through the river, climbing up waterfalls over boulders and under fallen trees. The gaiters fill with water and it squished through your boots. The uncomfortable, poorly fitting packs get much heavier when wet and the only brief break is when they are floated on your back because we are wading up to our waists. Haven’t seen much big wildlife yet on the hikes but plenty of frogs, insects, and bird singing. Beautiful hikes really.

Once we get to the reach that we will be fishing we empty our packs and get in teams of two and take to the stream. It’s rocky with jungle along the sides. We rock hop up and down so as not to disturb the fish or the benthos, and with two butterfly nets each and buckets we squat and watch, and when there is a flash we corral the fish into our nets and plop them in buckets, males and females separated so as not to induce unnatural mating...

There is lunch time but we pretty much fish from 8ish to when the stream is empty of guppies or 430 ish when we have to leave so we can get to the truck by dark (and then we go finish the next day). The crouching is tough on the knees and back, and it can be very frustrating to chase the same stupid little fish around a pool for 20 minutes until you loose it under a rock for good, but all in all being out there is very enjoyable. It’s beautiful and quiet and very meditative. When it rains you get wet but with a rain jacket it’s not cold and we take a little break from fishing because you can’t see and hang out. The people are fun and interesting and after very few days of spending every second of every day together, you get pretty close, and end up talking about the silliest stuff to pass the time.

After we bottle up all the fish from the buckets (about 600-1100 depending on the day and stream) we pack our bags and hike out. The weight of the now full water bottles gets distributed among the packs and we begin the assent. This is the toughest part but now that I know the way it’s not that far. The metal cleats are a savior, you could not walk through these streams with the packs without falling on your face every two seconds without them.

At the truck, its boots off ASAP to avoid any fungus, or “the rot”, and picking of various fruits around the road (limes, oranges, mango, coconuts, bananas). We then head home soaked, sweaty and tired, bumping through the potholes, avoiding stray dogs sleeping in the roads, and honking as we go around corners to avoid collisions with oncoming trinny drivers.

Once home, we put all the bottles in tanks, still separating fish by sex and the section of the stream where they were caught ending up in 70-some tanks. These are square petsmart tanks of varying size with very colorful tops. Each gets a bubbly stone and the proper label to keep it all straight. For those of you who were a part of my attempts to keep one fish alive this school year, you can better appreciate my awe with so many fish staying alive right outside my window in the lab (also our porch). There are of course some fallen soldiers but we label and preserve them to send back to the states with the next traveler.

Then the evening is ours. Showers, beers and cooking. Max is the main man when it comes to cooking. Gourmet!!! He is a foody and loves putting the extra effort in to make a meal amazing. To give you a taste he made homemade pizza dough and made 4 pizzas. One was topped with fried eggplant, stove roasted walnuts and red wine sautéed onions. Amazing. We also have curry lentils, pasta, bean chili, spicy corn soup, grilled tuna, beans and rice. All delicious and people get really into it. Sometimes we go into town and get doubles (as mentioned before I believe, its the local food at the stands on the streets, a fried doughy tortilla thing with chickpeas called channa and salsas on top). There is plenty of spicy here too. We go into town for a beer at a bar or stay at the house and hang out. Good music good food and joking around on the porch pass the time quiet quickly and then it’s relatively early to bed for a long day of processing.

The Whole Process: From the eyes of a guppy

He is swimming along minding his own business in the stream when there is more activity than usual above the ripples. Suddenly, a huge white cloud drops into the water and begins to move towards him. As he tries to swim away another drops in front of him and jerks him up out of the water. He is then tossed around a bit in this white fluff until he is plopped into a huge white bucket. As he looks around he realizes that the other fish around him are all male, flashing their yellow spots green stripes and colorful tails. Where did all the females go? Little does he know the are in the next bucket over. He swims there for a while, as other of his male compadres fall from the sky into the tank.

After a bit, a square green net is submerged and sweeps up all the males and dumps them out. They tumble and spiral down a red funnel and plop into a smaller white tank. Suddenly they feel silkier and healthier, maybe this water has something special in it? This small nalgene-like bottle is then placed back in the stream, and he pears out at what was once his home, wondering is he would ever return…

The bottle then plunges into a dark hole and he is sloshed around vigorously for quite a while. back and forth and round and round, bumping into his compadres.

Then when the motion stops and the water settles a little, he is splashed into a little fish tank. and a little blue stone with bubbles coming out of it is placed inside the tank. They spend the night together, wondering what is coming next!!

In the morning, another net snatches them up and they are put in a small cup and start to feel sleepier and sleepier and find it difficult to swim... Then black!

After a nice nap, he wakes up back in his take with his buddies! but with a sweet new colored tattoo, one pink strip on his back and one green on his tummy! nice!

After another night in the tank, he its scooped up and thrown back in bottle and back into darkness. After another rough ride he find himself staring out of the bottle back into the same swimming hole he came from, all the recognizable features are still there.

So thats the process. More of the neerdy side of things to come for those who are interested.

Fresh off the plane!

I arrived safely in Trinidad with very little trouble. It was an all day event but I finally made it and found my ride.

We drove back to the house where everyone had stayed up to meet me. There was some coming and going of other people but now it is going to be me and two other girls (one scrippsie!!!) and 3 guy who are all interns. Also there is will who is the field manager and Felipe a phd student working on his own project. Everyone is in their twenties and have been doing cool stuff all over the world with all different kinds of animals. There are many different languages too but I'm the only Portuguese unfortunately.

We are living in three bedrooms bunch style with a nice kitchen, sitting area, and porch where spend most of my time. We have had a couple days before the real work starts so we have been getting ready and spending some time relaxing in town.

Town is a pretty cool place. It looks like a lot of places I have been, little store front with bright colored paint and food stands along the way. The food available is pretty standard with some cool new vegetables and fruits I'm trying out. the clothing is mostly sandals jeans and t-shirts of many pastel colors. People are very friendly and forward, asking you where you are from and what your doing. Most have been to the states or have family there. Gonna try and go to a soccer game tonight and out for dinner and drinks.

Then tomorrow we start work!!!! I am excited to start getting dirty. I did a little hiking and fishing but tomorrow we will hike up the stream and collect all the fish in a pond... Sounds a little daunting. And the process them all. More information to come on the actual work. Until then! Hope all is with you all.