Monday 25 November 2013

Why I suddenly care so much about the planet, nature and animals.

I’m new to this network of environmentally friendly people who live and breathe extra oxygen so plants can get extra carbon dioxide – wait, is that how it works? I’m not sure. Like I said, I am new to this.
I never really had pets growing up, thank you allergies! I dissociated myself from the horse loving harem of little girls because I couldn’t sit on one without getting hives across my entire body. I bypassed the cute kitten posters and watched adorable puppies from afar. I wasn’t a big animal person. I pride myself on my people skills rather than on how well I can reincarnate a modern day Snow White. This said, my favourite movies as a child included ‘fly away home’, ‘Free Willy; part 2’ (lets be precise now) and everybody’s childhood classic, ‘homeward bound’. So maybe a part of me would have love to have been an animal person, but instead as a teenager I found boys (awkward confession).


Moving swiftly on from animals, I also had no interest in geography as a subject. Measuring rocks was boring, building volcanoes was boring and figuring out how many people lived in an urban area compared to a rural area was, well you guessed it, boring. I had however participated in a project with the National Theatre where we wrote and performed a whole play based on global warming. I loved our leaders; one was an acclaimed novelist who had spent 3 months in the Artic writing about her findings. The other was a rather eccentric Broadway writer and director. Research was an intrinsic focus of the project and we ended up meeting with global warming activists, marketers and scientists. It was interesting, for the most part, but I quickly got lost in the statistics and graphs and didn’t really understand the immediate importance of the issue at hand. 

“In the end we conserve what we love, we will love only what we understand, we will understand only what we are taught.” Baba Dioum 
 
For all those people banging their heads against the door because people aren’t listening about what’s happening to our world well, although I’m ashamed to admit it, I use to be one of those people. Other things just mattered more to me. That’s not to say I was a shallow person just that ‘the environment’ sat on the back burner of my mind. Conservation to me back then meant, not littering and recycling. Separate your paper from your plastics and BAM world saved, end of issue, you’ll die a martyr.
And then my life changed, rather dramatically and almost by accident. I decided to volunteer on a conservation project in Costa Rica. My reasons didn’t really have much to do with it being a conservation project, instead I went because unfriendly customers at my multiple Saturday jobs had put me off of humanity, I wanted to feel the sun on my skin and I wanted to do something worthwhile, like staring at adorable hatchlings all day long. Gap Year sorted.
I didn’t have any expectations about my trip, because I didn’t know what to expect. Did I for instance expect to spend six months on a camp full and I mean FULL of biologists, zoologists, conservationist, primatologists, every other animal specialist going and be churned out as a full advocate for every value that they held near and dear? NO! I was blasé about conservation, and after becoming a staff member, (my title being a CONSERVATION apprentice, which I’d laugh at) when new volunteers asked if I was studying biology I’d say “nope – I’m more of a writer. Basically, the opposite of everyone here”. I was laughable. But here’s the thing, I was also impressionable. Though I hadn’t had an active interest before I suddenly found that when you’re thrown in amongst the monkeys, big cats, snakes and all other creepy crawlies and a conversation about their predicament starts up whilst eating pinto, you’re eager to learn, and ask every question under the book. Rather passively I ended up a fountain of knowledge because like a baby I’d picked up so much from the intelligent and passionate people around me. I was surprising myself, I’d gone from being naïve and uneducated to being an ambitious and determined conservationist. That doesn’t mean that I was suddenly a professor of biology just that I had a firm belief in the cause. And most of what I was learning was heart breaking.
Since coming home even more environment related issues have been brought to my attention and are making my heart stop with fear and true sadness. The western black rhino was declared officially extinct following reports from the IUCN on November 10th 2011. Tilikum, an Orca or more commonly known as a killer whale, was tortuously taken from his family, bullied by other orcas in a dark water enclosure best described as a coffin and then forced to perform at SeaWorld for his adoring fans. Tilikum, has killed three people including two trainers. And he is not an isolated case. And I didn’t know about this, and I wouldn’t have known about this if I hadn’t of watched the recent documentary blackfish, recommended by a friend I met in Costa Rica.



I felt hurt and guilty after watching that documentary and it’s prompted me to say something. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the one to go to if you have questions about the environment or how these undeniably and timelessly beautiful creatures are dying at our hands, or how serene landscapes are changing and drowning because of global warming, like I said I’m new to this. But as someone who use to not be interested, someone isn’t a scientist, there is one thing that I can assure you and that’s that this is worth caring about.

 "We have the knowledge that conservation works if executed in a timely manner, yet, without strong political will in combination with targeted efforts and resources, the wonders of nature and the services it provides can be lost forever."

And here’s the biggest lesson that I learnt from the people I met whilst standing side by side, planting a rainforest and taking data on Neotropical river otters and that’s a message of hope. The greatest moments in our history are when things changed, when people rallied for the better good, when politicians cared about making the world better, whether its black history or the end of a war, change is good. And we want to change the inevitable. We want to change the outcome for the defenceless, for the sumatran tiger, the polar bear, the orangutan and the humans. You don’t have to be a scientist, I’m not. You don’t have to be working in the field or in the middle of a rainforest. You just have to care, even a little bit counts. And the biggest thing you can do? You can stay aware of the issues.  If everybody changed the way I did, then there’s nothing stopping the world from changing too. Life is beautiful, preserve it. 

P.S. Don’t just skip over the bolded quotes, their actually rather poignant, powerful and true.

LEARN MORE RIGHT HERE (Go on, it’s only one click.)  http://www.iucn.org/about/work/programmes/gpap_home/gpap_solutions/

A big thanks to everyone at Piro who helped me grow and learn, who I now call my friends and who have inspired me by dedicating their lives to this cause, I hope you find some relief in knowing you certainly changed me and my beliefs. Keep up the good work guys! Once you open your eyes, there’s no going back. 




Wednesday 20 November 2013

Learning from learners.



I have recently had the privilege to volunteer at my local collage. In all honestly, I’m at the stage in my life where I have to start making big decisions and owning them and the consequences that come with them. Knowing what’s best for you, isn’t always easy. I’m 19 and I feel under so much pressure to be on the right path, including five year plans that incorporate experience and education towards my chosen career. I’m 19, how the hell am I supposed to know that already? I don’t know what I want to be or whether what I’m doing is right in the long run, and that scares me, because I’m British and we like our five year plans! I recently left my university. I will shortly be travelling, once again. I’m having to reassess my life. And volunteering was a desperate use of my time, filling my current unemployment status with some purpose.

 

The class is for adults that are returning to education. For varied reasons, their education has been limited. Many have children, families abroad, work and other commitments. All of them, despite so many obstacles have made the brave decision to return to school and give their education another go. I can’t speak on behalf of their children, but that decision makes me feel proud.
I haven’t known the group long, but they have welcomed me like a peer and a fellow student, one of the lovely girls laughed at me when their homework was being handed around “are you not going to take one Jess?” she teased. In fact I feel so comfortable around them that I’m not ashamed to admit when I get a word or two wrong in the spelling test! We all make mistakes, better to laugh at it.
Being me, I had this predetermined thought that I would be of no use within a class room, and yet to my surprise, after one lesson I felt needed. One woman was expressively grateful when I told her why I was there, simply, ‘to help you, if you need me’. I had to improvise on the spot, having never done classroom help before, I used the basic skills I’d learnt at school and told them the tricks of the trade that help it all stick in your mind. We did fractions (dividing by halves and quarters) and I helped teach the students how to copy and paste (perhaps a bad habit when it comes to assignments).
They’re simple procedures that most of us take for granted. The changing era of technology is difficult to keep up with, particularly when you’ve been out of education for a while. Doing our fractions has become second nature, but so many adults have missed out on the basic IT, Maths and English skills that help us live our lives. How do you paste a link to your boss in an email? What does it mean when it says 2/3rds off that cute cardigan I want from Topshop?
And the joy you see slowly enter their eyes and the relief spread across their shoulders when they finally get the answer and more importantly the process, is beyond worth it.
Education is invaluable and it’s never too late to have a second or third or fourth chance. Life can get in the way of our schooling or even just not feel like a right fit and it’s important that with looming fees and high unemployment rates that we don’t jump into further education without first pausing for thought. When the time is right for you, and you want to enhance your experiences with further study it will always be readily available to you. Besides, education doesn’t stop in the classroom. In fact the majority of what you learn, you’ll learn out of school, think of qualifications as a pedestal for real life.  
Leaving university was a big decision for me, and one I didn’t take lightly. I have been privileged and many wouldn’t even have had the choice that I did. I want to learn more but I believe it’s the skills we acquire during our lessons that are transferrable to our life that matter, not necessarily if we got the answer right or the top score. I left university because I wanted to learn something that I felt had relevance to me and the world and environment I am a part of. So learn a language or your grandmother’s best recipe, do a degree, don’t do a degree, take the internship, go back and get your GCSE’s, even if you’re just learning how to socialise with people, that’s okay. It’s not the qualification that matters, it’s the process, it’s the skills you acquire and how you apply them to your life, your goals and your aspirations.

 

There are people in the world, like Malala Yousafzai (she was shot in the head by the Taliban for her peaceful campaign for women’s education) fighting for the right to learn, who have a refusal to give up because it’s never too late and I believe that my class are included in that. We can all be educated both inside the classroom and out, on the job and off the job, old or young, we can all fight for the right to learn. We all deserve to have a better quality of life with a greater understanding of our world that can open our lives up to further opportunities.
We can progress as people, as long as we never give up, whether you’re a girl fighting the Taliban, a middle aged man returning to school or me, a university drop out, trying to find other ways to educate myself and stumbling across incredible experiences, like this, along the way.

Snap shots.



Wishing a happy birthday to my sister!
It stormed so badly, we showered outside!



Tagging a turtle.



 
Finding local birdlife. 



Sunday: No rain storms just blue skies in the Osa Peninsula today. It's an easy place to call home.

Experiencing new things every day

Yesterday I use the same plant that the indigenous people use to wax my arms, drank milk from a tree, ate termites straight from their nest and had a lizard bite my ear because it hangs there like an earring. Today I milked a cow and made my own cheese. Talk about self sufficient living!

The little things are the biggest things.

Last nights staff turtle training was incredible. The moon was so spectacularly bright it lit our way across the beach without the need for torches. And, I got to assist in a full health assessment of a 300lb Green Pacific turtle and personally tag my first ever Olive Ridley turtle! To top it off, whilst knee deep in a lagoon, I held a boa constrictor...
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

Happiness comes in the form of a rainforest!

 Costa Rica camp has been eventful to say the least in the past couple of weeks.  After intense treks throughout the vegetation you’ll often find me lounging around in a hammock on deck, book in hand, or ipod on replay and wafts of deep fried food hitting my senses. It has been during these delightful moments of relaxation and reflection that I have stumbled across some of the most surreal experiences.
For instance, whilst waiting for our dinner one afternoon (we eat before it gets dark) Mikol, one of the local guys, rocked up into camp on horseback, escorting a rather large water buffalo.  I say rather large; this mammal was built like a machine. Completely astounded by its random appearance we went over to get a few close up photos. It was at this point that Mikol asked if we wanted to ride the water buffalo. I hadn’t even touched it yet for fear that it would flick its tail and wipe me out, and now he wanted me to clamber on top of it! So naturally, I did. It was one of the most exhilarating moments of my life, feeling the warm muscle mass below me, my legs barely touching either side of its body it was so wide, and knowing that in any other normal circumstance this would be incredibly dangerous gave me a rush of adrenaline that had my hands shaking for a good five minutes afterwards. Talk about once in a lifetime opportunities and Costa Rica continues to throw these at me!
Another example I can draw on occurred yesterday, whilst chatting to Sarah in the morning and swinging from side to side in the hammock completely unsuspectingly when the whole of the deck began to wobble. I paused for a moment, confused, and half convinced it was my hammock swinging that was causing the weird movement of the earth when Sarah said “yeah, this is an earthquake”. Of course, I should have guessed! My first earthquake certainly startled me, and I later found out it also startled the spider monkeys, who screamed at the group on trail as the trees shook.
We’ve done various satellite camps as well in the past fortnight; the one I participated in was on Piro beach.  After setting up camp next to the turtle hatchery, we strolled up and down the shore, with the moon lighting our way. It wasn’t until Nathan paused in his tracks abruptly, that I knew I was about to see something spectacular, a sight I had been patiently waiting for my whole life. Ahead of us was a single track, and in that moment my heart hit my stomach, both myself and Cara knew one thing, and continued to repeat it in an excited whisper and Nathan went to investigate “there’s no out track!”. The green turtle was the most beautiful creature I’ve seen. I held back my tears as I watched her strength rivet through her flippers and pull her wrinkled face and large shell forward through the black sand faster than I’d ever have imagined a turtle could move. Later than night we lay out on the sand, eyes cast upwards and surround by amazing people I’ve grown to call good friends, whilst a meteor shower exploded above us, and I saw my first shooting stars inspiring us to call our first turtle ‘Meteor’. I woke up the next morning and watched the sunrise, blissfully happy. Life is beautiful.
The rest of the two weeks were spent like this; eating sugarcane, playing rounder’s under the sunset at the beach, learning to surf at Matepalo, eating cake and watching Nathan almost take out volunteers during a hard core birthday piñata! Plus we got cheeseburgers with a side of beer and salsa dancing in town. As far as sightings go, it’s been a pretty special few weeks seeing a sloth with her baby as well as glass frogs, a pygmy kingfisher, a caiman in a river, a coral snake and astounding views across the rainforest canopy at Cerro Osa that will crumble even the hardest of hearts.
Basically, everyone needs to come to Costa Rica; the experience has an endless supply of happiness and unforgettable moments.

Settled in






It’s been a busy week this side of the Atlantic. On Monday myself and Cara headed back in Puerto Jimenez, ate chicken quesadilla (a culinary masterpiece), bought our boxer shorts (surprisingly comfy, and a perfect addition to the hippish all-my-clothes-are-damp look I prefer to call ‘jungle sheek’) and swam in the warm waters of the Golfo Dulce. The next day, on route to our first turtle survey of the week we stumbled across a Neotropical otter nibbling on his breakfast. It was my first sighting and a pretty special one at that, considering there is no research regarding their population. The turtle patrol however put a sadder emphasis on the morning, as one of the greens had laid her eggs too high in the sand causing the tide to turn up the nest. None of the eggs survived. Nature even in all its beauty can be cruel, especially on the already hard done by turtle hatchlings.
Wednesday morning saw a new addition to our weekly schedule; trail maintenance. For five hours, armed with spades, machetes and chainsaws we dug a completely new trail through the dense rainforest. The heat was made bearable by the water fight Kirsty and I had and the fresh orange juice the cook at OSA gave us. It was quite an accomplishment digging up roots that gripped the ground like a child does its mother. Whilst it was tough, as proven by the blisters on my thumbs, it was physically rewarding and actually rather enjoyable. As the work we were doing was part of collaboration with OSA Conservation it meant spending the morning with the guys who work here, who are possibly the nicest and funniest people I’ve met. Juan Sito for instance has the cutest smile and would laugh at me sweating and say “mucho aqua?” to which my reply was always “si!” Then half comatose I cooked for everyone, slept and then cooked again.
The next morning I woke up at 2:45am and crept out of camp, led by Nathan and followed by Sam and American Sarah for my first ever Peje. The tales that had preceded the journey were not wrong, it was a tough walk. We clambered down steps, under fallen trees, passed razor grass, through swamps and lagoons and came out into a pitch black clearing. It felt as though I were in a big dark room, all I could make out were the outlines of leaning palm trees  and a line of bright white froth thunderously crashing seconds after the last wave ripping the silence in two. And then, I looked up. Above me the milky way eloquently lit up the night sky, so bright that you’d think that if I reached out to touch a star, I’d be burnt. The poignant night sky slowly faded into a subtle pink glow that was delicate and just so pretty. By this point we’d been waking for hours on the sloped sand and my calves ached, we had 43 sectors to survey and each was the length of two or three buses lying next to one another. But the end, sector 43, the finish line, was so indescribably worth it. Words do not do this perfect little corner of the world justice. The rainforest fell into a lagoon that cattle crossed as the sun rose, and the birds swept their wings in amongst the palm trees. You could see for miles above the tree tops to your right and miles across the ocean to your left. I was entirely humbled to be one of the few people who got the complete privilege of seeing this private and protected landscape, so entirely untouched by tourists with no trace of the 21st century.  ‘The circle of life’ ran through my head on repeat whilst Nathan sang ‘Hakuna Matata’, I had to remind myself that someone hadn’t just picked me up and dropped me into a Disney movie. This was real. And I was there.  I even turned to Sam and said “all we need now, is a good soundtrack”.
On our way back, we had to walk up the stairs of doom. Which went like this; Sam pushed me up, I nearly passed out, got to the top and had a semi-asthma attack, fell over and got razor grassed. All I could do was lie there, in the middle of the jungle and laugh, life was too perfect.
On Thursday I went on an Otter survey all the way to the top of Piro river, another 5hour trek.  We were joined by the lovely Juan Carlos, the head of science at OSA who, whenever I would turn around would be doing something funny such as putting a feather in his hair and exclaiming “I am the Mexican Pocahontas!” or wearing a leaf as a mask. I managed to find a few otter tracks on my own, which was a rather exciting considering I’m the non-scientist on camp. We also saw a poison dart frog carrying its tadpoles on its back, which apparently is unbelievably rare, and we just happened to see it. The way back down the river was absolutely terrifying. If ever there was a way I would die, it would be walking down a fast flowing stream of water up to my waist, that’s bed was made up of rocks like marbles, during torrential rainfall with trees falling down around me. Its not the place for the clumsy, wet rocks are not sturdy walking ground but they do however, make you appreciate pavement in ways I never have before.
On Saturday we walked across the beach with Toucans flying low above our heads to the waterfall. On our way back I saw a figure in the sand making its way to the sea. My first thought was that it was a turtle so screamed out and pointed towards it “WHAT. IS. THAT?!” Carlos, Malorie and myself just sprinted, a rather peculiar site for Sarah and Kirsty behind us. Turns out, it was a baby crocodile. I can’t believe I just saw a baby crocodile on the beach and we strolled along, its hard to put these sort of moments into perspective.
The lagoon brought more fun, as a tree trunk had fallen into it and was floating on the surface like a banana boat. This provided endless entertainment, Kirsty did backflips off of it and I did my best impressions of Dirty Dancing and the Jesus Christ lizard (walks on water) whilst Malorie clinged to it with dear life and Natalka and Carlos swam around in the background collecting coconuts. Then we returned ‘home’ for Yaka chips and a little bit of Madagascar and fell asleep listening to the rain on the tin roof of the hammock deck.
Now, I’m off to learn more Spanish, which will save me a lot of awkward situations, so ¡hasta luego.

Sun, sun, sun!





Sun, sun, sun!
I begin this week’s entry rather worryingly with my cooking. Saturday it was my turn to take the reins over our gas stove. With endless trails happening throughout the day in heat that can reach 37degrees, people were expecting a feast (or as close to one as you can get to in the jungle). Let me start by saying that camp is entirely vegan (except powered milk), something I thought I would find difficult to stomach – pun intended- due to no electricity. Whilst this means no brie and mango chutney on crackers in one hand and a chilled Corona in the other, it does create a rather angelic atmosphere as we eat – and laugh – by candlelight. Regardless of our many setbacks, (which now include water being cut off from camp and resorting to drinking from the river, which is something rather special during  the century of chemically purified everything)  I have yet to not enjoy a meal here! For lunch I rustled up a sweet potato (which on a side note, is white here) mash and onion gravy. It went down well, considering I don’t cook, ever. At all.
After lunch we went on a stroll through one of the many rivers that intertwine across the landscape, soaking in our surroundings. On our return Elle suggested we head to the beach to gather drift wood, an idea I enthusiastically welcomed. There is no limit to the amount of times I can fall in love with the ocean. I walked across the lapping waves and watched the afternoon sea mist engulf the rainforest before swimming in the lagoon to cool down. On our way back Helen summed up our perfect Saturday afternoon by saying “don’t you just feel completely content right now?” and I did.
For dinner I stuck to the good old English spag-bol, although to ensure it fitted in with our camp’s hippy facade it was, of course, entirely vegan and made with soya. People lapped it up (probably shouldn’t say that as mum might actually get me cooking when I return home).
On Sunday Sam, Charlotte, Cara and myself headed into town via the cattle truck I’d previously mentioned. I have come to the conclusion that the collectivo’s lack of seatbelts, windows, comfy seats, rules and even properly formed roads is completely and utterly liberating.  You can stand and watch it rumble on through the jungle as the wind beats your hair and be lost in your own world. Three things in town made me a very happy girl:
1)      They had Heinz tomato ketchup. An essential for every meal.
2)      They had white Lindt chocolate. Looking back, this wasn’t my most sensible buy, but when have I ever been practical!
3)      I got a beautiful yellow sarong. I now live in it.
For lunch we had Margarita pizzas, beer, and pizza on a bench that had us literally seated in the sea, watching planes land overhead.
Mario the ‘bus driver’ waited rather happily for us for 10 minutes so we could make an entirely essential rum dash, which sums up the Costa Ricans laid back attitude. When I got back on the collectivo one of the elderly local men, who I had sat next to in all my previous rides, smiled when he saw me and tapped the seat next to him, which made me laugh. A drunken local also took our photo, claiming that white people were beautiful, so I took his photo to make it fair!
On Monday after a primates survey and double checking the canopy traps for butterflies, which required climbing under a tree that had fallen over a river creating a tiny gap I decided to sunbathe for half an hour at 10am. Sun in Costa Rica is entirely different from sun back in the UK, mainly because we rarely get it and we do it reaches 28 degrees max. And so, this is where my entry ends, as the rest of the week I have spent suffering through the not-so-nice end of the dehydration spectrum. Learn from my mistakes kids, sunstroke is awful and recovering in a tropical environment is not easy.
I am thankful for the tree frogs, millipedes and snakes for keeping up my amusement whilst spending all week at camp. And with my spirits high I am confident I’ll make a great recovery and roll into another week of jungle madness.
Adios!

Costa Rica PART 1

So, after months of forwarding planning and years of saving, I find myself in the middle of a tropical rainforest. I am no more than a puma, a neotropical otter or scarlet macaws’ guest and – wow - is their home beautiful.
After a long flight (my first long haul) and an overnight stay in San Jose I took to the sky in a Nature Air plane. The pilots of the tin-can-with-wings were pretty laid back and casually turned up five minutes before our flight. The ride seemed a tad too much for some (mainly the little girl in front of me who threw up into her father’s lap) but the other five people, including myself, were mesmerised by the view. As we soared over mangroves, beaches and the jungle I half expected to hear David Attenborough in my ear.
As we arrived I was hit by a wave of humidity, grabbed my own luggage from the hold and was a greeted by a very smiley and tanned blonde, who I now know to be the lovely Elle, our project coordinator.  Walking down Puerto Jimenez I felt as though I had stepped into the novel Wide Sargasso Sea and it was a very sudden realisation that I was a long way away from home. We were quickly shuffled onto the collectivo, a cattle truck with seats, for an hour into the depths of the jungle where we were met by even more friendly faces and introduced to camp.
Now, I could spend a fair amount of time telling you how the rest of my first day unfolded; how I chose a hammock over a tent, or how I ate stir fry and fried bread for tea. How the howlers are so loud at 4am each morning you contemplate getting a BB gun sent in from home, or how the squirrel monkeys swing from tree to tree as you take a butt naked shower in the middle of the jungle. Or even, perhaps, how the scarlet macaws are my favourite bird (never thought I’d have one of those) but I just don’t have enough space on the page.
All the staff are incredible and instinctively passionate about the nature around them, and the animals they specialize in. Helen for instance, cries out when she sees her ‘babies’ the capuchins, despite seeing them a hundred times, and Nathan is astounded by the coolness of a type of Iguana he’s never seen before whilst on our night walk, and Sarah affectionately calls the turtles ‘crazy’ when she looks at their lopsided tracks and false lays. Meanwhile Elle inspires me with her creativity and experience of the world. All of their knowledge is completely beyond me, but it’s an honour to learn from them all and contribute to a world of science that my eyes are only just being opened to.
Now for the exciting part, yesterday was my best day by far, despite my crippling homesickness! I woke up at 5am ready for my first turtle patrol, not expecting to see much as the season is currently in a lull, so I found myself just enthusiastic to see the beach. I was not disappointed. The rainforest meets the black sand with a perfect line of palm trees, the waves reach three metres at least and roar as they crumble onto each other whilst pelicans skim the water top. I couldn’t tell if I was looking at a desktop background on a computer or standing in the real thing, the experience was surreal! We walked down the beach looking for turtle tracks and to our surprise we found nine green turtle tracks, and whilst seven were false lays, two had nested, which means that in 45-55 days time we’ll be greeted with hatchlings. Whilst this may seem a lot, only 1 in 1000 hatchlings will survive to maturity, and it isn’t until they’re 26 that the females can start nesting.
Once we’d recorded all of the turtle tracks, and had lost half our body weight in sweat (grim I know) we took a dip in a lagoon, which is situated between the rainforest and the sand and is host to a crocodile! I was reassured before diving in with the words “if you see a croc, get out as fast as you can!” Comfortingly I heard no ticking noise and returned to camp rather merrily although exhausted.
Despite being ‘knackered’ (a phrase that the American girls on camp just can’t get use to us English folks saying) I went out and got annihilated by the local guys at football to the soundtrack of thunder and lighting, although no rain, which means the Osa is particularly hot and humid.
After a lovely dish of ratatouille for dinner I headed out on a night walk with the all-knowing Nathan, Sam who I’d travelled with and Sarah, a very enthusiastic American girl (who also is a great chef). Our aim was to see a puma, well at least everyone else was dying to, I on the other hand am in no rush to come face to face with a puma. As we trekked through the pitch dark jungle we were confronted by an iguana, a cute guy whose defence mechanism was along the lines of ‘if I stay as still as I possibly can then you can’t see me’, a spider that catches its prey by dropping a net on it as it flies by and many other creepy crawlies.
And then came the big moment…
Nathan pushed me back and ushered for us to retreat as a venomous Fer-de-Lance snake slithered its way in front of our path. A Fer-de-Lance, I had learnt only hours earlier, is the deadliest snake in the Osa Pensiula, one bite will make you bleed from your eyes and without an anti-venom, you’d be dead in four hours or less! Our initial plan was to wait for it to move off the track but the Fer-de-Lance was unwillingly to cooperate. Instead as it veered to the left, Nathan crossed past it on the right. Just as it was my turn to do the same, the snake noticed our lights and went from a relaxed position to its strike position in less a second. With my adrenaline racing, I carefully and slowly managed to shimmy across, staying as close to the edge of the right hand side of the path as possible. Once we’d all gone past, we headed back to camp to crash into our hammocks and come to terms with our new fear of snakes on any midnight toilet trips!
Week one, Costa Rica, what an introduction!