Sunday, March 10, 2013

Nature's Extremes



I had no idea what I was getting myself into when we left for Parque Nacional General de Division Omar Torrillos Herrera (or PNGDOTH). Little did I know that it would mean living in perpetual dampness and squeezing 17 people into a cabin with 10 beds and 4 ft ceilings for five days.

(photos courtesy of other people with water-proof cameras because my camera did not leave its case during the entire stay in PNGDOTH)



 Cool leaf-shaped bug that chilled on our door for a few days.




Needless to say it was no five star hotel, but our tiny cabin soon became affectionately known as the “Hobbit hole.” It was so humid that nothing ever dried and even my sheets and clean clothes in my bag somehow accumulated moisture. The park was not supposed to be this damp during our stay. Our professor told us that a strange cold front uncharacteristic to Panama’s dry season was causing the intense weather. Whenever we walked the ten minute trek from our cabin down the muddy road for meals, we were pelted with wind and horizontal rain. With the wind and rain came endless fog; there were only fleeting moments when the sky cleared enough for us to see the valleys and mountains in the distance. At one point it was clear enough to see all the way to the Pacific ocean. Someone must have taken a picture, and while I’m sad that I wasn’t able to use my camera in that weather, I also can’t help but think that some views just can’t be captured in a photo. The layers of mist and endlessness of the distant ocean would have been lost.

But above all, the wind was the most impressive. When standing at the edge of the short trail leading from the research center to the cabin, the wind would gust strong enough to knock me off balance. At times it felt like I was staring down the mouth of some vicious beast that was bellowing its discontent with my disturbance to its slumber. At night, the peaceful chorus of croaking frogs and humming insects was periodically broken by gusts of wind that shook the cabin. It felt more like a movie set than a tropical cloud forest.

 As for classes, the forest itself was our classroom. We did a different group experiment each day, the first day focusing on plants, the second on insects, the third on transects, and the last day we were able to pick our own topic. My group chose to study the behavior of leaf cutter ants when obstructions were introduced to their trails. It was fun to learn so actively (I have definitely broken in my hiking boots), and I loved that our professor only spoke Spanish so I was able to learn new vocab words and conduct scientific experiments in Spanish.



The night hike was especially amazing. We walked a simple, well-outlined trail, but despite the pouring rain we found huge insects, frogs, spiders, reptiles, and (of course) ants. I was most impressed/unsettled by this lovely specimen lurking above us in a tree. 

Before the end of the hike, our professor had us turn all of the flashlights off and we were submerged in complete darkness. It was both humbling and terrifying to realize that our artificial lighting was all that was keeping us on the trail and that without it the jungle could easily swallow us into the misty night.



The last day we presented our individual projects and celebrated with a feast. After having rice, chicken, tortillas, and hojaldres (fried bread) for a week, we were stunned to find an outdoor barbeque dinner awaiting us with a buffet of cheese, crackers, strawberries, pineapple, grilled vegetables, brownies, and chocolate chip cookies. I even had the chance to try plátanos cooked right in between the logs of the fire and my fingers turned black as I broke open the charred peel and savored the warm fruit. That night the smell of campfire smoke made the moldy, sweaty cabin smell a little bit better.

Our last morning there I was woken up at 4:30 am by the shrieks of others who had discovered a mouse in our cabin and I couldn’t manage to fall asleep again with the mousy-squeaks coming from my corner of the room. At 5:30 am we all got up to pack and clean the cabin in order to be ready to leave by 6am. Then we placed bets to see what time the “chivas” (small trucks used in the interior to transport people/ cows/just about anything) would come (they are always late) but were pleasantly surprised that we were able to get on the road by 7:30. After a short drive down the winding, steep roads out of the park (ducking occasionally to avoid getting hit in the head by tree branches), we arrived at the house of the woman who had invited us to breakfast and had one last fill of hojaldre before packing into a small bus and heading for Sarigua National Park.

On the bus ride there I had a small moment of peace. It happened when I was listening to an accordion solo of the Panamanian music on the radio while watching the familiar interior countryside pass along the roadside. I finally felt like I belonged in this country and that I was familiar with its identity. It probably had to do with the fact that I was returning to Panamanian “civilization” after living in the national park for so long, but it was peaceful nonetheless. I had finally found the “roughing it” Panamanian experience I was looking for. It was exhilarating and exhausting and I learned a lot about myself in the process. I hope to continue to be as awestruck by nature as I was in that forest during the rest of my time in the interior.

After leaving the wettest and coldest tropical rain forest of Panama, we visited the driest and hottest tropical dry forest of Panama, commonly referred to as the Sarigua Desert. It was incredible to walk through this tropical dry forest-turned desert and forget we were still in Panama. Our professor led us to the archeological site where clay shards of pottery from ancient indigenous people were found (there were so many lying around I was able to pick one up and keep it for myself). Then we explored the sand-dune part of the park where the earth shifted like sand beneath your feet, all due to a combination of wind, water, and human-induced erosion. We continued across seemingly endless dunes until the earth was cracked and hard under our feet (the result of quick changes in temperature from night to day). We trekked further into the desert to find the dwindling mangrove forest and the shrimp farms that had replaced them. Once again, the wind was awe-inspiring as it whipped across the landscape and exfoliated your skin with its endless plumes of dust. We left Sarigua exhausted, dehydrated, and dirt-covered from head to toe, but I was ecstatic to be able to use my camera again to try to capture a glimpse of the unbelievable landscape.






 Dried cow poop!

  

 Dead dried algae covered parts of the desert that had previously been underwater


 Mangroves!

Then we visited the pottery workshop of Sr. Calderon and I got to attempt to use a manual pottery wheel and had a great conversation in Spanish with the owner and his son.
 

We’re currently staying at a hotel in the town of Chitre. I reveled in a hot shower and a flushing toilet and just spend the past 5 minutes sticking my face inside my bag of clean laundry. Tomorrow morning we leave at 8am for the city of David, where I’ll meet my new homestay family for the week while we study local fisheries. I’m ready for another homestay and eager to continue improving my Spanish and can’t wait to snorkel! 
 
View of Chitre's main square from the balcony of our hotel

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