Conservation and Local People

I’ve done a lot of my work outside protected areas; it’s simply a fact of life that there just aren’t enough protected areas to contain all the animals.  So, we go to them.  Laikipia District was not protected; though Segera Ranch (http://www.zeitzfoundation.org/) was particularly conservation oriented, the communally owned areas where quite overgrazed.

I’m a firm believer that you can’t just fence in an area and expect things to go well- just look at the example of Tana River Kenya.  You need the cooperation and involvement of the local people.  Really, you need their lives to improve in some way by helping these efforts.

Tangkoko, where I work now, is a protected area, but people still go through it and are permitted to fish off the park.  There is also illegal activity, and this is sometimes how our monkeys get caught in snares (we pull any snares we find and GPS map them).  There is also a thriving ecotourism business set up around the monkeys (this has some potential issues to, which is why we supposedly have two tourist groups, with our other groups protected by the Wildlife Service here- no tourists, except poorly obeyed and enforced- that’s a whole other thing I won’t post about)..

So, people have not lost the use of the area, not entirely.  But, oh the downside…the pictures below will tell you why I wish the park was a bit more closed, though I know that would likely cause problems.

   

Fishermen throw their trash- food wrapper, bottle, shoes- all along the beach.  Here’s my highly endangered monkeys foraging amongst the trash.  Being exposed to who knows what human pathogens that they are susceptible to, and eating things that may be quite bad for them (the male below is eating powdered milk).

This is why us crazy scientists want to keep people out of protected areas. 

How do we resolve this kind of issue?  Well, I am becoming very tempted to 1) show these pictures to local people, as part of an outreach program (in which the harm to the monkeys is explained) and 2) to organize some kind of trash clean up. 

The Best Laid Plans of Fieldworkers...

...they often go awry

My supervisor helped me arrange a great schedule where I had 3.5 days of assistant help in the group I really needed to be in.  And then things started happening.

First, we got this arranged exactly as three concurrently consorting females deflated (stopped consorting).  Ok, that gave me a couple days to better learn individual ids in that group and do this urine collection test.  Then, we had a female start consorting.  Of course right before off days, but I got a few days of good preliminary data.

Oh, and I got sick right before off days; I barely made it through the last day, and wouldn’t have without coming in while the animals were near camp at lunch time.  Had a coke and a short rest, managed the rest of day.  Was just so tired and weak feeling, thought I was just tied from the week.  Sleep most of my first day off (we do 5 days on, 2 off).

Uh-huh…until I went out after my off days.  My stomach was a bit upset the second day off, but I thought I’d accidentely eaten something with dairy (turns out those hazelnut/chocolate spreads have milk, whoops) and it wasn’t bad.  Of course our insane animals went straight for one of the worst areas.  And I was starting to realize I was not ok, and feeling all weak and woozy.  Which is a fabulous thing to realize when you are deep  into the scrubbiest nastiest part of the home range, and rather far from home.  My female wasn’t even consorting, so I really had little to lose that day anyhow (I pushed through the last day since I was getting good preliminary data).  I decided I’d better go in before I got worse, and it took me over an hour…I hate the scrub and really wish this group spent less time in the secondary forest.  I’ve been home ever since and am going to the doctor tomorrow in Manado, though I think I am getting better.

That’s not all: we have another juvenile with a snare and we’re at three failed darting days.  So, that is taking time and assistants (ie, I’m not working on my own stuff since this has priority).  Until we catch this kid and get him unsnared, the whole schedule is messed up.  We try again Tuesday and I really hope we succeed, both for our schedules and this poor kid, who will likely die without our intervention and still may lose a hand.

Plus some logistic things: all the assistants go to Manado tomorrow for a vaccine, so no monkey work (no darting attempt for example).

I should have what I need from this preliminary field season though, I’d just really like a couple more days data.  Fortunately, one of the popular females is already starting to consort (heh, she’s sterile, but the males love her…her swelling is smallish, but already got interest).

QED: Nothing ever goes as planned with field work and you’ve got to roll with the punches.

We don’t interfere with our study animals…except when we do

For me, ethic #1 of field work is that by studying and habituating a group of animals we have a responsibility to them.  We are making them vulnerable to other humans; we should never just leave a habituated group behind.  You can (and should) dishabituate groups if a study is being abandoned.  You are responsible for ensuring your actions do not negatively effect the animals.  I think you also have some responsibility towards conservation, education, and working with local people, especially on any conflicts with your study animals.

Now that responsibility doesn’t mean we treat them like pets, or take care of them (ie, day t day needs).  We generally just let life happen…we especially do not interfere in natural injuries, sickness, and death.  It just isn’t our place, and it changes the very things we set out to study. 

Except, sometimes we do interfere.  By we, I mean primatologists in general and sites I have worked at in specific.  When do we interfere with the animals we study?  I’d say many sites interfere when an injury is related to humans: we release trapped animals, treat snare wounds, help juveniles out of wells.  A couple of days ago, one of our juveniles had a snare around his wrist; left as is, he would have certainly lost the hand, possibly died.  We darted him and removed the snare (if we got him in time, he will recover, though he could still lose the hand or die- we have the infamous Peanut of the BBC documentary made here who lost part of his arm from a snare living same group).  On the other hand, we recently had a juvenile monkey from one of our groups dying, from natural causes- he was injured, most likely by another monkey.  The protocol is to do nothing, just collect the body when he dies- this took almost 3 days, 3 days of him laying on the forest floor becoming covered in maggots, unable to move (but alive).  Never have I missed hyenas so much (an animal in this condition would not last the first night, and it would be a mercy- we lack large predators here).    

Now, another detail: I’m working on a highly endangered species (there are something like 5,500 of these monkeys total in the world).  Does that make a difference?  Baboons aren’t endangered, and we still interfered in human caused issues.

Why is the former a special case?  I often have heard human caused treated separately from “natural” causes, to justify our interference.  But, really…aren’t humans part of the natural world?  C’mon, we’re not that special.  After all, we have coevolved with nonhuman primates for millions of years…are these interactions really new things?   Perhaps we feel a moral imperative to interfere with humans?  But, ethically, what should we do?  If we consider that by habituating the animals in the first place, we have made them more vulnerable to such human influence by reducing their fear of humans, perhaps we do.  For me, this is the main reason to justify interference when humans are involved.

How is this not effecting our studies?  I know of one site where the solution to that was to treat the rescued animal as dead in analysis.  That’s a solution I find impossible to actually carry out- that animal interacts with the rest, mates, sires offspring.  You may not be analyzing that animal, but the rest you study are effected.  I’m not really sure how you handle that one.  I do know that the effect on our data is (or should be) at most a minor consideration in the ethics of the situation.

A Monkey’s Eye View

We have a professional wildlife photographer working with Selemat Yaki, a conservation organization based on Manado, visiting Tangkoko for a couple of days.  He is trying to take pictures of the macaques in trees by getting up nearby trees himself.  After a long morning of searching for one of our groups, I went out with him to find a good tree near camp to practice on, partly since I was curious as both a primatologist and an amateur photographer.  I gave it a try myself, though only 2-3 meters off the ground, just past the super big roots of the rao tree- since he’s only got one harness and I have no experience, not smart or safe for me to go out of reach (unfortunately- no second harness means our experienced climber can’t come up and help you if there’s a problem).  (ok, no one freak out- Mom- I’m being careful and only did under supervision of an experienced climber).

Launching the first rope to get your strong climbing rope up is the hard part; the climbing itself isn’t too bad, mostly using your legs (leg strap and ascending clip- lift leg and move clip, then pull you body up by standing again).  Apparently arborists and forestry workers use these techniques.

Even just getting up that short distance was amazing.  The thing about this habitat is that the monkeys really live in a three dimensional world, in a way we really can’t appreciate.  Everything looks different from even a bit off the ground.  The way the light filters down is different, the colors are so vibrant- it’s beautiful and I really want to get higher, even without monkeys nearby (I am not crazy enough to try near animals without proper climbing training anyhow).  I’m going to try and find a course to learn this myself so I can do this when I come back.  I’d love to, oh say, go up by one of the tarsier sleep trees right when they are coming out and watch (and photograph!).  I’d have to get my supervisor’s permission to do near our animals, but oh man would that be cool!  Even if I don’t do near our study animals, plenty of wildlife to see and a nice view!

Identifying Individuals and Instinct

One of the first things anyone studying primate behavior has to do is learn to identify individuals (at least adults) in their groups.  In addition to getting some preliminary data and figuring out my data collection protocol, I am spending time on this- it’s rather hard to get even preliminary data without doing so.  Now, if you’ve seen my pictures you know that my new species, the crested black macaque is…well, BLACK.  As in all black in color, even their faces.  The only exception is that they look a little grey in spots (depending on light, ha) and their genitals (pink butts, pink to bright red genitals for the males especially).  Ok, now remember…I am now working in a forest environment, in other words much less light.  This means it is hard to see little things like scars…one of our males is missing an eye and I can’t always see that!  On the other hand, olive baboons are brown and their color varies quite a bit- this was something I used to id.  Plus, you know- bright sunlight, no canopy.

Meet Raja

Meet Tarzan...I swear this is a different animal 

Oh, and these macaques basically don’t have tails- they have these little tail nubs, not distinctive except for a couple whose tails lean to one side.  And you guessed it, tails were a feature I keyed in on in the baboons.  Baboons are pretty nasty to each other, so tails would have all sorts of break, missing hair, etc.  Not to mention extensive regular variation.

My usual procedure for learning ids is to use little oddities, scars, etc.  You’ve got to learn what is typical of the species and where the variation is- if everyone has a crease in a certain spot, it’s not gonna help.  I slowly learn to discriminate between the animals, and eventually get fast.  And around that time I start recognizing individuals like you do other humans- you just know them.  One day you see someone run by, look over, and you KNOW who it is- it’s instinct.

Basically, these guys are tough to learn, certainly harder than olive baboons.  I‘m really glad I have some previous experience.  Seriously, check out the pictures here- basically, I’m trying to learn these guys from every angle, and that means front, back (ie, butt), side).  So, yeah, those butts look different to me, but it takes some time.  And well...the males genitals vary a lot- so much so that this is a research topic of the project.  So, yeah...I'm using that, feel free to laugh at that, I do. 

I had a point where some things just clicked the other day and I started figuring some things out.  First, I started seeing some subtle differences I’d not been seeing- those pink things on the rear (sitting pads), they look different.

I swear, these are different animals...

And I realized that the combination of species (color, etc) and habitat make my usual routine not so helpful.  That routine works for me because I can start by logically thinking through ids, basically eliminating individuals until I get the right one.  I’m not a person who does things instinctively naturally; I am methodical and logical.  So, I’m trying to make myself just go for it- to have those telltale features, but then to just try to learn the animal as an individual.  Which means I’m trying to just look at an animal, not focusing on little scratches, but the individual themselves, and go with my instinct.  Rinse and repeat, and be grateful for our field assistants (who are probably scratching their heads trying to figure out how I can id someone one minute and not the next at the moment).  Basically, I’m forcing myself to go with my instinct and practicing until I can get it right.  I'm not spending lots of time trying to decide, you know, making sure I am right by going after the animal and checking for a scar, etc.  So, we’ll see…  

Getting started

I’ve had a bit of a crash course in the forest and looking for our monkeys.  The forest is definitely different than acacia woodland- much less visibility of course, which really has me thinking about my study and my following measure.  And of course I’m a bit slow, as I’m a little unsure of my footing; it’s a bit hard to look and walk, especially since you’ve got to look up too (ah, partially arboreal primates!).  Plus I’ve not been in the field for a couple years…looking forward to getting my forest legs.  Also, there is so much more noise here- birds, squirrels, insects.  As I’m walking around I keep hearing noise and I’ll think it’s something, and of course it is just birds.  In my defense there is a bird here whose call really sounds like juvenile baboons fighting and screaming.  There is also a cicada that sounds a bit like an air raid siren.  The macaques blend in pretty well too- that dark color hides them nicely especially when it’s a bit darker in the forest and they are in trees.  The size of some of the trees here is amazing- not just the height, but how wide their trunks are.  I walked inside this huge tree that a strangler fig has taken over- plenty of room inside and can look straight up (I will take a picture of this at some point).  We’ve got tarsiers here too, turns out they sleep in a strangler fig trunk our animals sleep in (and slept near today).  

I have learned that kecap manis (made from soy, like a thick sweet soy sauce) is amazing…I can eat a lot of plain white rice with that stuff.  Which is good, cause we even have rice at breakfast.  Fruit is awesome of course- we picked up some mangos right from the source on our way here from Manado (about 2 hours away)…so good.

The ocean is beautiful- I spent some of my afternoon studying behavioral codes on the beach.  The surf is very rough right now- apparently happens during the rainy season and is calmer in the dry season.  Plus, quick drop and coral = getting slammed into the sand not good.  So, I’ve not actually tried to swim, but just wading and hanging out there.  And catching hermit crabs to take pictures.

The ocean also has a functional value to me, as I learned on my very first day actually with one of our macaque groups (yesterday).  We arrived in the group and got quite a greeting; I have never been lip smacked to by my study animals so much before (females and juveniles especially).  The juveniles were especially curious, coming up and staring at me (not so much today).  One bratty juvenile male even climbed up behind me and smacked my head.  At the moment, I’m just learning to tell the individuals apart, and the age classes.  There was a consortship in the group, so I decided to follow them a bit, cause why not?  Might as well try to learn those individuals and check it out.  Well, turns out consorts go to the edge of the group in this species too.  I ended up pretty far from everyone else; we keep in touch with our own version of contact calls (not radios) and I couldn’t hear anyone for a while.  So, when my animals disappeared high up a tree, I started to look for them.  Right…a bit different than acacia woodland.  Fortunately, we have a nice trail system and I start going back and forth in the area, looking and calling.  Nothing.  Then, the rain starts.  The monkeys always sit quietly in the rain and it is loud- so the chances of my finding anyone are slim.  Then I realize this is why I need to carry my cell phone (I’m not great at navigating the trails but someone could’ve grabbed me if nothing else once I called and they told me where they were).  At this point, I’m concerned everyone else I’m with is going to be worried…and I can hear the ocean, so I know how to get home.  So, I walk back to camp, get my phone and call them to tell them I’m at camp (and not, you know, lost…just lost the group).  And now I bring my cell phone.  This also means I can head home whenever I am done for the day, which helps since I like to look over all my notes for the day (one person follows until the sleep tree, but I can’t do alone anyway).  Note to worried people (ie. Mom) reading this: we have no predators or elephants, I have a compass 9go north and hit the beach) and my phone has gps with the camp marked.

One day was also enough for me to see huge differences in dominance rank and consortship behavior…I don’t think my olive baboons understood priority of access at all (males queue for access to resources by rank). 

I’m learning individuals, which is tough in this species- no tail, all black hair and faces, in a forest (ie, shadows, hard to see features).  They all kind of look alike at first, and I‘m glad I’ve done work with other primates before.  I’ve finished day 2 and I have a grasp on the 7 males in the group I’ve started with…as long as I have some time to confirm at least.  It’s a start though and a pretty fast one.  Funny enough, I’m better at faces/sitting animals in this species, mostly due to the fact that most males have a scar or two, and broken, even missing, fingers.  Seriously, I can recognize Ito by his fingers.

So, everything is coming along well here; once I can id individuals a bit better (and get better at figuring out where the group is, directions they are moving), I’m going to start working with our handheld data collectors for notes at least (in our codes), then I will start following consortships to collect preliminary data.

So it begins...or how ending up spending a week in Bogor helped me realize a new rationale for tenure existing

I’ve been in Indonesia for just over a week and am slowing settling in.  It’s different from Kenya- I am definitely going to have to learn Bahasa Indonesia to get around here.  Thus far, I can basically say hello, please, thank you, you’re welcome, and “not spicy hot” which is helpful when ordering food.

I opted to stay in Bogor instead of Jakarta so I could more easily get to our affiliate institution here (IPB), which is in Darmaga near Bogor.  Bogor is small enough I can easily get around and figure things out without a great grasp on the language.  Plus, I’m not a fan of big cities (in Kenya, I preferred Karen to Nairobi, in Uganda Entebbe over Kampala), I’ve not even really ventured back to Jakarta yet.  Especially since I moved out to Darmaga after the first few days, it’s a schlep.

The original plan was to just stay a couple days, meet people at IPB (and get permit docs and help with sample transport, maybe give a talk), then go to the field.  Long story, but I had to delay a week.  Seems a theme of my fieldwork (first trip to Kenya, And the sample transport help ended up involving extraction of genetic samples.  Which conveniently, I can do…and so I spent my extra time here at IPB doing fecal extractions (58 in 3 days, not bad!).  At one point, as I’m sitting there literally chipping away at dried macaque feces, I have this epiphany: I have a PhD and this is what I’m doing…THIS is why we have tenure!  I mean seriously, we spend all this time on our education and our salaries are not awesome…and we literally deal with shit!  (Don’t get me wrong, I like lab work, but still...).  So, viola!, tenure is the light at the end of our tunnels!

In the end, this was useful since I’m planning collecting all kinds of samples, and our MOU allows us to export extractions, but not samples.  Thus, it is likely I will be spending some time here at IPB doing extractions at some point in the future.  So, learning the system here is a good thing.  And it was good to get more of a chance to meet with our collaborators here.  I’ll be back on my way out to give a talk, which should be fun.

And now I am off to Manado and my new field site early tomorrow morning (so early, it is barely worth having a hotel tonight…I have to be up in 4 hurs).  Manado is about 2 hours from my field site, and I will pretty much be spending the day getting my permit to stay in the park.

My random observations and some comparison to Kenya (my last field work experience):

-          In Kenya, I am mzungu, here I am bule. 

-          There are lots of cats, many with oddly short tails.  And I do strange bule things like pet the stray cats.  Hey, I’ve got my rabies vaccination…

-          In Kenya, there are matatus, here there are angkots- both are small minivans used as public transport with usual routes.  Here though, they don’t really have stops, so my GPS on my new smart phone is handy.  Lots more motor bikes here too, which I prefer taking (much more comfortable and can get around traffic).

-          I like the food, so long as I can get it not spicy hot…lots of rice and noodles, and I have been thrilled to discover that mie goreng (fried noodles) is very similar to pad see ew, which is my favorite Thai food.  My first night here I did accidently eat a hot pepper in my pickled veggies (thought it was a green bean).  Yeah, that made me tear up, and one of my new Indonesian friends said she wouldn’t even eat a whole one of those.

-          It’s about 12,000 Indonesian rupiah to the USD…very hard to figure out how much I’m spending at times, and so I have a currency converter app on my phone.

-          And, finally, I have joined the century and bought my first smart phone, which has apps, GPS and city maps, and can turn into a modem.  And I love it, though I suspect I will love it less at European/American prices (seriously, I am skyping- with video!…and I have spent maybe $5).