The Adventures of an Aspiring Primatologist: The Good and The Bad

There is a good side and a bad side to fieldwork. It is a game of trade-offs: is the good side enough to outweigh the bad? Is it worth it to endure the negative aspects of a field site to procure the positive? I’m not the first to admit that fieldwork is not just for anyone. Furthermore, having studied as a field biologist for four years and undertaking fieldwork in five different countries at multiple habitats and locations, I can tell you right away that fieldwork in the rainforest is perhaps the most strenuous of all. I will give you my perspective on the good and the bad of working in the jungle and you can judge for yourself if you would choose to endure.

The Bad

Let me begin with a story. My first day on Barro Colorado Island in Panama began quite well. I ventured off into the forest early in the morning with my graduate advisor to search for white-faced capuchin monkeys (my research species for the time being). My advisor insightfully pointed out the various fruits adorning the ground and explained which ones the monkeys eat. I was immediately intrigued by everything around me- the plants, the smells, the animals, the insects. We encountered the monkeys after only a couple hours in the forest and watched as they effortlessly brachiated through the trees and stared curiously down at us. It was a lovely hike and we returned for lunch.

This is where the atmosphere of the jungle shifted. I had the afternoon available and was ushered off into the jungle alone. Completely and utterly alone. In fact, I was the only person that went out at all that afternoon on the entire island. My advisor vaguely pointed out a trail on a creased map and after some confusion as to where I was supposed to find the trailhead (which consisted of me shuffling around awkwardly in circles for a few moments), I was off into el bosque!

A golden orb weaver spider, very similar to the one I found on my stomach

Almost immediately I encountered a troop of howler monkeys. One female and her infant attempted to lob a heavy branch in my direction, perhaps irritated by my presence. Ah well, I’ve had monkeys throw worse things at me before. So I continued on, clutching my map. For those who aren’t aware, I don’t have the best sense of direction. It didn’t help any that my map was worn and half of the trails were unmarked. Keep that in mind for later. As I’m confusedly staring at my map and marching along a steep, slippery trail, I run face first into a gigantic spider web. Not just any spider web, mind you, but a golden orb weaver’s web. The golden orb spider is known for weaving one of the largest and most intricate webs in the world, complete with a sticky anti-repellant substance. After peeling the cobwebs out of my eyelashes, I look down to discover that the spider was sitting directly on my stomach. Now this particular female spider, which was approximately the size of my hand, was not thrilled with her situation and, as such, she was raised up menacingly on her legs. Mass panic. So, my first reaction was to whimper and spin in perhaps fifty circles in the middle of the forest in an attempt to get her and the cobwebs off my body. This wasn’t the only time I found spiders or insects crawling on my body that day.

I continued on through the rainforest. It became more and more apparent as my distance increased from the research buildings that this trail has not been used or maintained for quite some time. More than once I lost the trail in the dense vegetation. At one point, the trail descended into an extensive ravine with a river winding through the base. A tropical storm event the week prior had caused several colossal emergent trees to fall into the chasm, obscuring the trail entirely. I slid down the muddy cliff and clambered up the opposite side around the tree calamity. But where was the trail… I searched and searched. Sunset was an hour away and the forest was already growing dark. Each patch of leaf litter mildly resembled a trail, but nothing was definitive. I eventually resorted to following the path of the river (and praying). With some divine providence, I found a trail cutting through the forest and fervently followed it for several kilometers until I recognized an area near camp. That was much worse than the spider. And to top off the experience, it began to rain, stirring up the molds and the pollens in the air so I sneezed repetitively. That day I learned that the forest can be hostile.

I’ve also discovered that the jungle can be invasive. The insects are particularly nasty. At the present, I have a lovely red necklace of mosquito bites. I am also the proud owner of a colony of chiggers that are currently munching away at the skin on my stomach. Chiggers are miniscule red arachnids (like ticks) that latch onto skin and utilize a chemical in their saliva to kill cells and then consume them. They are irritatingly impossible to remove because they are so infinitesimal. I consider chiggers to be preferable to the ticks, though. BCI is notorious for tick infestations during the dry season. Apparently there are “tick bombs” that house literally hundreds of ticks. If one such bomb detonates above you, you are showered with the arachnids. One guy here claims to have had over 110 burrowed ticks in his skin at one time. And there are bullet ants here: the bite of a bullet ant is said to be the most painful insect bite in the world, equivalent to being shot. There are also botflies in this particular section of forest. You know, those flies that lay eggs on your skin and then the larvae burrow underneath and eventually explode from your skin when mature. Or there are all the intestinal parasites you can contract. And let’s not get into tropical diseases.

The jungle can also be somewhat aggressive. You have to be exceedingly careful where you step and where you place your hands. Many of the palms are covered in slender spines that can stab right through your hand. Some of the fungi and plants are poisonous if touched. There is a vine called the fire vine which causes chemical burns when touched that leave permanent marks on your skin (most people here have scars). There are obscure holes in the forest floor that can cause you to fall or worse, break your ankle. The animals are not always friendly either. There are vipers with both hemotoxic and neurotoxic venom. The monkeys deliberately throw branches and other debris down if they want you to go away. When a gigantic branch lands a few inches from your foot, you realize how dangerous this can be.

Furthermore, this is a true wet tropical rainforest. The thunderstorms that occur here in Panama are unlike any I have ever experienced, including when my hometown in Boulder had a 1000-year flood. Yesterday, we got caught in a storm while watching the monkeys. First, the understory becomes very dark as clouds roll in. Then, there is a momentary delay as it begins to rain but the ground below stays dry. When the leaves above are eventually laden with water, it starts to pour and you feel like you are standing under a waterfall. In a matter of seconds my entire body was soaked and my boots were filled with water. The trees trembled with the deafening thunder and the trails became small rivers. It was sort of exhilarating, until we lost the monkeys and started to shiver from the sudden cold.

These are just some of the negative aspects of fieldwork in the jungle.

The Good

A white-faced capuchin male

The good part of working in the rainforest is quite simply really. It’s when you catch yourself smiling as soft rays of sunlight embellish the leaf litter with golden hues. When you find flowers and fruits with colors so vibrant, you’re not sure if they are genuine. When you find a small frog cleverly disguised as a leaf sitting beside your boot. When you gaze up into the canopy at a family of monkeys cavorting along the branches. When you stop for a moment to listen to the rustles, chirps, hoots, croaks, twitters, and whispers that echo between the trees. When you see an extraordinary array of insects of every size, shape, color, and pattern. When you watch a colony of thousands of ants build a miniature kingdom with ordinary dirt. When you encounter an animal unexpectedly and have the opportunity to watch behavior you have never seen. When you look at the vast diversity of life all around you and realize what an incredibly complex ecosystem the jungle is. These moments seem to erase all the negative, making the forest both enchanting and invigorating. For me, the abundance of life in the tropical forest is enough to counteract the “bad.” Indeed, simply the opportunity to study primates in the wild is more than sufficient.