"The Tiputini Biodiversity Station is a logistical marvel. Off the grid and located deep in the Ecuadorean Amazon, it was built in the mid-1990s as part of a partnership between the Universidad San Francisco de Quito and Boston University to support in situ tropical ecology research and education. From its position on the Río Tiputini, along the margin of Yasuní National Park, the camp occupies a strategic vantage point for keeping tabs on a major artery of access to the park, which is the largest reserve in the amazingly biodiverse western Amazon."
As far as the rest goes, I'm mainly stealing poorly written bits from my journal, so bear with me. And, since my camera decided not to function only during those four days, the pictures are stolen from friends of mine who came on the trip.
Friday morning:Up at 4:45am, and many different modes of transportation later, including a walk, taxi, 20-min flight, taxi, motorized canoe for 2 hrs, chiva (doorless truck with benches) for 2 hrs, boat for 2 more hrs, at long last we arrived to the Tiputini Biodiversity Station at 4:30pm, amidst thunder booming, cannon-like, through our bones, lightning filling the sky, and rain bringing the group of us huddled together in the back of the open boat.
The university offers 4-day opportunities to its exchange students to visit TBS. I came in a snug group of 6, including my one birding friend who noted 20 life-birds (the first time seeing a certain species) within the first day. This probably equates 50 life-birds decorating the journey for me, but I actually ahh'd at probably 6, including a few pairs of blue-and-yellow macaws. Apparently macaws are hunted to sell as pets in the States and Europe, and their illegal smuggling through the airport means only one of every 10 scarlet macaws actually makes it to the pet store. The rest die along the way, wrapped up in tape or otherwise mistreated en route. Most likely, the more awesome the creature, the crazier its journey to the store. Just a little food for thought.
Back to the jungle.
Upon leaving the plane my nose was happily greeted by a wave of thick, warm air. The air in high-altitude Quito is thin, my Kleenex tissues are often a bit bloody, or otherwise filled with some black gunk from the pollution (sorry, guys). The extra moisture in the air was much welcomed, and even the heat was a welcome change.
The first thing I noticed when disembarking from the canoe was the sudden swarm of bugs. What a foreign sight, especially since Quito is virtually barren of ants, mosquitoes, spiders, even.
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| Funky lizard outside the cabin |
At 8:32pm, the four of us chicas sharing a cabin were scibbling away in our respective bunks, recording the adventure that had yet to even begin. Buenas Noches.
Rise and shine at 6am. The rigidly set feeding schedule (a bit zoo- or prison-like) had us at the table at 6:30am, noon, and 7pm. We started our morning hike with Jose, my future husband, who proceeded to guide us through all of our explorations that weekend. All of the trail names were named after animals or interesting plant species seen on the trail. We headed out on Anaconda toward a laguna, where an almost jokingly picturesque canoe was left ready to be borrowed and returned. I am directly pasting a post made by Lisa, the madwoman/angel who kept a record of our sightings and/or interactions. It's a bit bird-heavy cuz, well, to each his own, but hohhh man this place was "llena de vida."
Birds
Friday, 9-30-11
- Brown-chested martin
- White-winged swallow
- Bat falcon
- Black vulture
- Southern rough-winged swallow
- Osprey
- Cattle egret
- Yellow-rumped cacique
- Lesser kiskadee
- Blue-gray tanager
- Yellow-browed sparrow
- Sungrebe
- Ringed kingfisher
- Tropical kingbird
- Blue and yellow macaw
- Amazon kingfisher
- Cocoi heron
- Slate-colored hawk
- White-banded swallow
- tinamou (species?)
- Common piping guan
- Russet-backed oropendola
- Speckled chachalaca
- Scarlet macaw
- Hoatzin
- Black caracara
- Greater kiskadee
- Greater ani
- Lineated woodpecker
- Red-capped cardinal
- Crimson masked tanager
- Rufescent tiger heron
- Orange-winged parrots
- Scale-backed antbird
- White-fronted nun bird
- White-browed purpletuft
- Blue dacnis
- Yellow-bellied tanager
- White-lored euphonia
- gilded barbet
- Bare-necked fruit crow
- White-throated toucan
- Ladder-tailed nightjar
- Rufous-bellied euphonia
- Red-bellied macaw
- Black-fronted nunbird
- Buff-throated woodcreeper
- Olive-faced flatbill
- Eastern wood-pewee
- Spotted sandpiper
- Cobalt-winged parakeet
- Striated heron
- Amazonian white-tailed trogon
- Red-throated caracara
- Roadside hawk
- White-necked jacobin
- hummingbird (species?) on nest
- trumpeters
Mammals
- Pink river dolphin
- Common woolly monkey
- Long-nosed bat
- other kinds of bats (species?)
- Amazon red squirrel
- Agouti
- Spider monkey
- Squirrel monkey
- Howler monkey (heard)
- Red-mantled tamarinds
- nocturnal monkey
- 2 tapirs
- capibara with 2 babies
Reptiles/AmphibiansCaimans
Pitt viper
Tree runner (lizard)
Sapo de riñuelo
Emerald tree boa
Insectsswarms of “confetti”-like butterflies (yellow, white, light green)
Blue morpho butterfly
blue/black/white butterfly, red on outside of wings
green/black/white swallowtail-like butterfly
tarantula
araña loba (wolf spider)molting grillo
conga ants (bullet ants)
very pretty dangerous centipede
araña tejedora (weaver spider)
araña scorpión
banana spiderPlants
white hollow mushroom called pena de diablo that only lives 1 day
El jardín del Diablo: tree with lemon ants
arbol de tisa, hueso de muerte (fungus on particular tree)
coca
curare: poisonous vine, wood used to make poison darts for blowgun
plant that causes hives/welts
plant that turns your tongue blue
palm used to make our bracelets
rubber tree
matapalo
In the afternoon we headed up 40m worth of stairs to the top of a looking tower, but instead of watching monkeys choose the trees in which they'd rest for the night, we got swarmed in "bichos," aka pesky bugs who enjoy swarming more than actually biting or stinging. I did, however, get stung by a sweat bee, and joined a few of the girls who descended early on the solid ground. Even though my bug
We embarked on a nighttime boat ride to meet the nocturnal folk. Forever-more-manly Jose flashed a floodlight into the darkness on the sides of the river, and we were met by reflecting night eyes, staring at us from the sidelines. The lamp scanned treetops, river, shoreline, and managed to catch even the tiniest brown bird from across the river. We saw caimen slipping into the water, finally catching sight of one on land. We crept the canoe closer, and in its default move to disappear into water to hide, the caiman trapped himself between the boat and the sand. Gotcha. Silver eyes. Nostrils peeking above the water. A looong mouth. Teeth. 
Jose managed to do this again with another guy, much smaller this time. He hopped out without a second thought and snatched'm. We proceeded to take cheesy pictures as we passed the unhappy amphibian around.The animal wonders continued, but for much of this my eyes weren't following the light. Head tilted back, mouth open at the incredible starscape. Again, compared to smog-central Quito, this was unreal. This far south we see a different set of stars than the usual Orion's belt of Massachusetts. Here there's virtually no human activity-- not even roads reach the Tiputini Station. Ohh, so that's what the rest of the universe should look like.
In the morning it was off to the puentes, a series of four bridges connected by platforms on high trees. Geared up in harnesses, we were instructed to hook our carabiners to steel cables that run along the thin bridges as we bounce along, only to act as insurance to protect our precious gringo lives. The bichos found us once again, this time bringing their waspy friends along.To return we took what Jose called a secret trail, which apparently only he could see/navigate. To us it just looked like, well, jungle. He grew up further east in the Orient. His mother, he joked, would slap him with a spiney plant (that he proceeded to test on us, giving everyone minor ((and some, major)) hives) when he was lazy. This only goes to show that the rain forest wasn't just learned as a job, but this is the homeland, man.
We ate a piece of coca leaf (yes, as in cocaine) that the indigenous folk use here as a stimulant (no, as in caffeine). We also ate a piece of a liana that is used to make curare-the poison in poison darts! The Huaorani tribe would (still do?) scrape the bark from the vine, prepare the yellow flesh inside by reducing a tea-like substance over a fire. What remains is a thick liquid into which they'd dip pieces of palm stalk. Voila. Then they'd aim for the trees. Soon, however, the monkeys got smart. They'd pull out the darts before the poison could settle in their systems. But alas, the human race prevails. The tribe began to perforate the palm, ensuring the "dart" would break off halway, leaving the curare to seep in its furry victims. This leads to sleepiness, peepeeness and poopiness, until the monkeys finally drop from the treetops to the dirt.
But, I digress. Continuing on with things we put in our mouths:
We spent two minutes "masticando" the inside of another plant with the group, unsure of its consequence until we spat to the ground. Expecting numbness or a strong flavor, we lol-ed when we looked at each other, surprised to find our mouths were completely blue. We now have a picture of 6 gringos sticking out blue tongues.
Lemon ants-yum yum! The other vegetarian in the group said "but I'm a vegetarian," until I licked my finger, stuck it in the branch, and snagged only a few specimen. Certain trees have these little packets in the bark of their branches which the ants like to call home. In exchange, the ants "clean" the entire surrounding area, their formic acid killing every other plant in a 10ft radius. A true symbiotic relationship indeed. This also makes for a quick, easily recognizable, lemony snack!
A similar-looking tree bled white as well, but this is the "arbol del condon," as Jose said. The sap dries into a gluey substance, or latex. Ha!
We crossed matapalo's path (literally, a trail named Matapalo) a few times-- this is a parasitic vine that begins growing alongside a tree, slowly wrapping fully around, sucking out its nutrients. The fully grown tree dies, and we're left with a hollow casing, apparently climbable from the inside.For a good ten minutes on the path, we walked alongside a massive army of ants (a small horde, says Jose, would have 400 million of these 6-legged citizens). Their neatly organized army, carrying cargo at the time, is capable of attacking and consuming snakes and rodents and frogs, together as one organism.
Bullet ants, the biggest in the world, are capable of giving 12 hours of excruciating pain to its victim in one bite. Jose identified a regular-looking tree and instructed the boys to give it a few good kicks to the truck. Out spewed a handful. A small army has 200 of these babies.
In the middle of the path, a pit viper. One of the Amazon's deadliest. He was a little guy, curled up. Aaw, cute.Floating in life jackets down the river sounds lovely, but every potentially cool animal was "just a bird"- haha, sorry my dear birding friend. We all instantly fell into a vicious cycle of having to pee, not swimming to keep warm because we had to pee so much, thus feeling more cold, thus having to pee even more. I don't know how it happens, but sometimes it feels like the body expends a disproportionate amount of energy warming the bladder. So then, idiot, why didn't you just pee, you ask? Well, apparently there are what were described to me as "little fish" but what I believe is a parasite who, attracted to the stream of pee, swims up your urethra and hooks on.
After an hour, the boat was flagged, we hopped on, pulled over at the nearest sand bank, and really got to know each other as us girls clustered up, squatted, and probably stepped all over each other's pee. Hey, it's the jungle. Hygiene doesn't matter..right?
Huddled for body warmth on the way back. Damn you, skinny friends.
AND TO THE GRAND FINALE. Let's just say the nightlife was wild. Here are the highlights of our creepy-crawly night crawl, stolen from a few friends whose cameras didn't decide to break just for the journey:
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| Saw this weaving spider shoot to a trapped moth at lightning speed, wrapping it up in a cocoon within 20 seconds. He returned to his neutral state, upside-down, in the middle of his enormous web. Video to come. |
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| Triple threat: venomous centipede, wolf spider, and just out of the picture, to the right, a bullet ant. |
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| The top half is the "used" body of this molting insect. |
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| I don't even remember his story but he was BIG |
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| Green tree boa constrictor. The guide was excited, as this was his second time in 4 years seeing a boa |
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| Y'all already know who this is... |
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| Scorpion spider, and that's a biiig tree |
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| Banana spider |
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| Our guide threw down a headlamp for a bit of perspective. This toad is BIGGER THAN YOUR HEAD. |
This fear of the dark, since then, has been completely lacking in my life, sketchy men in sketchy neighborhoods aside. I was severely uncomfortable at the time, but rational enough to think: okay, this is the coolest thing I have ever gotten the opportunity to do. So, I shut myself up and started to let the spook run through me.
After all, even the cutest jungle animals, like the monkeys and the tamarinds and the capibaras, exist at night, too. Nobody ever thinks about that. Those guys are into daytime and all, but they're not afraid. What's fear when you live in the wild? It's just time to go to sleep, and ignore the other world that passes while the sun is down. Okay, maybe I wasn't exactly in the mindset of a 5 year-old, this may have been a bit too...meta.
Of all of my experiences so far in this country--from mountaintops to music festivals, hospitals to home life, fútbol games to forests in the clouds, I never learned to appreciate an area and a way of life like I did in Yasuní. Granted, I couldn't imagine living longterm in a place where your clothes can hang for hours and remain soaked, the handsoap, shampoo, and conditioner all come from the same bottle, and your closest friends have multiple legs, but this was a glimpse into a world filled with life at every crevice, a world that never sleeps, a world where humans don't reign.
The craziest part of all, though, is that the Yasuni region of the rain forest is in danger, and we are the bad guys. The most informative websites aren't written in English, but check this out:
http://www.sosyasuni.org/en/index.php
I heard an analogy that equated the potential construction of a road through this natural haven to slitting an artery in a human body and letting it bleed. To think that conservation efforts to prevent oil exploitation in one of the few remaining untouched locations on the planet might not prevail is sickening.
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