Climbing Class In Costa Rica

I first learned about Monteverde twelve years ago when I showed a video in my Chicago classroom about a woman scientist who examined the variety of life high up in trees. The scientist was Nalini Nadkarni and she was conducting research in Monteverde, Costa Rica. She taught the show host, a young girl named Carla, how to ascend a rope high into the cloud forest canopy. Nalini found a perfectly camouflaged walking stick living amongst the epiphytes that hang on to this massive and predacious strangler fig tree and introduced us to the hooting growl of howler monkeys. I was very intrigued and learned about a Spanish language school in Monteverde from my friend Sharmilla, so I signed up for a Spanish class here. In the Cloud Forest Reserve, I met a tree scientist, Bob Laughton, who gave me Nalini’s email off the top of his head. The next month I joined Nalini in Washington state for a climb into a pacific coast tree canopy.

Over the years, I have vividly recalled the exhilaration of ascending the rope, the macabre life of the strangler fig, the crazy variety of insects and the thick green growth up on the ‘green mountain.’ I have also thought much about Monteverde’s integrated community, the Quaker story here and the simple way of life.

Well, as life often circles, I now find myself cheering on my 7/8 grade students as they ascend a rope high into a strangler fig tree. It is a moment to be cherished as they experience the exhilaration of the climb, the lush green of the canopy, the sheer wonderment of standing on a epiphyte laden tree limb 20 meters above the cloud forest floor, and the satisfaction of doing something exciting. Their CCVs (climbing curriculum vitaes) ranged from some experience to none. I am impressed by their maturity and confidence to attempt and tackle this physical and mental challenge with nary a word of fear. I am impressed by the flexibility and efforts of former MFS students and local residents that make this adventure possible.

I hope something about this experience will vividly remain in the minds of the kids. I wonder how calm Huayra would remain if a column of army ants marched up her leg as she was attaching a repelling device to her harness. Would Eric respond in like kind if a troop of territorial howlers threw their scat at him? In the unlikely encounter with a snake, would Ale casually escort it down with a flick of her rope? How loud would Esteisy laugh if we had a sudden afternoon downpour?

I think about the opportunities children here have to live with a high degree of interdependence and adventure. The outdoor hands-on lifestyle builds practical life skills and a keen awareness of the systems and cycles that make human living possible. I think about the welcoming and supportive community here and almost any gathering, like this one, involves all ages.
I now spend much of my time teaching science at the Monteverde Friends School. Two years ago my wife and I moved from Chicago with our two young boys because we desired to experience a more simple, natural and different way of living. Like many families here, we walk to school, climb trees together, and are continually thankful for life’s beauty.

Signed M

The Birth of Butterflies, Bacas and Blades

About two weeks ago we noticed a chrysalis hanging from our kitchen windowsill directly above the sink. Like many creatures that around the house, we let nature take its course and take its course it did. While tackling dishes one day, Sally was delighted to see a butterfly emerge. At the time, I was heading to the cloud forest reserve with the boys, but on our walk we decided to adventure down the ‘trocha’ to San Luis to visit Goudy. The trocha is a steep winding concrete road that connects Monteverde and San Luis. It was the first time we ventured down on foot and the boys, including me, enjoyed the views during a pancake snack and then running when we could. Almost two hours and three miles later, we reached our destination at the farm to an excited family awaiting the birth of a calf. From a distance we could see Goudy’s sister in law, Cindy, assisting the mama cow by pulling the calf. After navigating under barbed wire and through the tall pasture grass, we arrived to see the cow cleaning her calf. (Translation of cow is vaca, pronounced baka.)

The all purpose outdoor tool in Costa Rica is the machete. I finally purchased one to beat back encroaching vegetation around the house and just because I wanted to have one! The boys and I worked one day in the yard hacking away at tree branches. Just like using any tool, they work within perimeters and learn to respect its power. For the boys, it was like swinging a baseball bat – its effectiveness was noticeable, but I knew something was wrong. With a ptoing, ptoing and a clang clang, I swear this thing should slice right through thin branches, not be stinging my hand. Why is just the top ten centimeters sharp? Why is most of the blade like the back of a kitchen knife blade? I explained my problem to Raul, and he laughed, promptly giving me a tutorial. I discovered that in my haste, I bought an unsharpened machete and needed to use a sharpening tool called a lima. I started telling the story to students, and a few chimed together "you need to sharpen it." As in, 'you ignorant foreigner, even we know that!' While the machete sits high and hidden from small hands, the lima sits at the top of my shopping list.

Loving Life In Monteverde

"Oh my gosh, larva, larva!" I continued cutting vegetables for the Tico beef soup. We see plenty of larva around here. Michael continued, "I squeezed the fly and out came larva!" Now, he had my attention. Sally chimes in, "Oh gross, what. . . , take that outside .. . wash your hands really really well, oh they're all over the place!" I put the knife down on the counter and hurried to a new biological surprise. Michael and John were playing around with a unique looking fly trapped on the window pane. Apparently, this one was carrying her hatched brood first class in the cabin. Upon some external pressure from the fingers of a 4 year old, this diptera's (scientific classification: Kingdom: animalia; Phylum: arthropoda; class: insect; Order: Diptera) exoskeleton split open to reveal about a dozen minute, wiggly larva (maggots). Upon seeing the light of day, some larva had ventured out immediately onto little fingers and the window pane, while some stayed within the warm confines of their mother's reproductive tract. I was surprised to discover that this type of fly, I don't know the family, produced eggs that hatched inside the mother rather than eggs that hatch externally as in the case of house flies. (note the mating houseflies courtesy of wikipedia) Unlike the bloated grains of rice type maggots found in smelly garbage cans on a hot august day in Chicago, these little larva appeared quite innocent and undeserving of a premature separation from there mother. But so goes life on this Costa Rica Dia de la Madre, their mother had a gaping hole in her side and her future looked quite bleak. Sally was not too happy about the whole thing, so Michael threw the fly outside, we washed our hands really really well, and I went back to cutting vegetables.

"Oh gross, there's ants all over the windowsill, did you guys just leave the larva there?" Yes, we did. I murmured something about mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom in our house, grabbed the camera and joined the boys to watch round two of the larva drama. Within minutes, dozens of our little black ants had located their next meal, hoisted the doomed wigglers into the air and were hauling them into a crack in the wood. I imagined a fateful game of 'your larva feed my larva.'

It was an amazing scene, not gross nor gruesome, but real, natural, a wonderful story of the complexities of life and death, survival and competition, reproduction and predation. Of course the human involvement cannot be overlooked, after all this did take place in our house. Just these few minutes of play and curiosity on our part will lead to rich discussions and vivid memories for some time to come. The great thing about living here, is that these stories happen all the time. This is but one of many vivid displays of the natural world we've experienced today. Pics not in particular order: Star of larva story broken in two w/baby, ants and booty, today's long hike to a stream, red mushroom, more insects, and a spider visiting me right now. Note: it is bigger than Antarctica.

Weather Update

A quick update before I retire or we have a power outage. The winds settled slightly, yet remained strong through the day. There were only a few trees uprooted and leaning on other trees. Remarkably, very few branches or heavy limbs have fallen. The trees here appear very flexible and any brittle species such as silver maple would have been crowded out millions of years ago by more hardy species.

I did discover that the local forecast predicts this wind will continue through thursday. It is especially severe in the mountains - a typical January windstorm as told by the locals. It is evening, the wind has strengthened again in the past hour (gusts to 60mph?), the house is creaking, roof panels are banging, and my hands are actually cold. This is the first cold I have felt since living here, well except for those not so hot showers.

The cat darted into the woods to relieve itself and came right back, instead of venturing around for half the day. I wore rainpants for the first time, took a stroll down a wooded trail and was reminded of a sales slogan, 'There is no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing.'

It is remarkable that our power, phone and internet is still on! Flashlight in my nightstand and preparing for another night of little sleep.

A big thank you to the Troesels for a delicious homemade bagel brunch this morning! Signed M.

Sloth In The Night

One thing I noticed about sleeping in the San Jose metro area the other night, was the lack of night noises. It felt eerily silent not having the crickets to sing me to sleep. Well, last night was another night of noise in our Monteverde house. The wind has been howling for two days now and has caused a few roof panels to loosen and bang and creek. Heavy mist is pelting the windows, drip and drain sounds surround us and blowing leaves scratch at the windows.

It was about 1 AM and the rattling just would not stop. Mice found the cat food? The cat trying to get a stuck cup off of its head? This new sound need investigating, so up I sprang peering into the kitchen. Nothing. The sound was outside our dining room window. Something was clanging: the hammock? The cat trying to get in? I shined the flashlight at the window and saw two giant claws attached to a long haired limb. I new what it was. Another limb with a set of claws reached up and scratched at the window and wooden frame. Really? This isn't supposed to climb houses! Attempting to gain height, this slow moving creature's head popped up revealing its flat nose and little innocent eyes. Yes, it is a sloth! I turned the light on, put my boots on and grabbed the camera as it retreated under the bench.

After a minute of hiding under the bench, it reached out with one limb, then another and another and slowly dragged itself across the concrete patio. I snapped pictures from a few feet away. Sloths do not move rapidly, but I certainly did not want to get close to its huge daggers. Not able to support its body weight by pushing up, the shy creature looked sickly or at least from another world. Sloths have plenty of strength to hang and to pull themselves up, but apparently do not practice pushups or run from predators. It crawled to the nearest tree and methodically climbed up until its was out of my reach within a couple of minutes.

In this morning's light, the sloth is nowhere to be found. We will go outside in a few minutes to look up into the trees nearby.

Signed M.

Morning Stars

Lying in bed, I listened to the sounds of the night. Based on previous sightings, I figured there was a giant moth banging itself on our kitchen window and a mouse in the ceiling chewing something and whacking its tail. There was a crack of wood and an earth shaking thump as a tree limb must have fallen and of course the crickets chirping and dogs barking. I finally arose at 4:00, put on sweat pants, a fleece jacket, slipped on my trusty rubber boots and quietly snuck out the front door. The first thing I noticed was the darkness. Without moonlight, it can be very dark in Monteverde. The second thing I noticed was the abundance of stars. Magnificent, numerous, the most I have seen from this humid often cloud swept mountain.

Straight overhead is a planet, maybe Jupiter, and to the north, the Big Dipper. I could not locate the north star (Polaris), it must be close to the horizon behind the trees. I focused upward and could see a few faint clusters of stars and wondered about the other billions that I could not see. Flash, possibly a meteor lighting the sky somewhere over the horizon. In a span of thirty minutes, there were at least ten such flashes. I saw two meteors burn up, (shooting stars) and found four human made satellites smoothly passing overhead. Two were running parallel to each other as if in a race. Satellites look just like stars, except they are moving. I have only seen them from rural places. A plane has a blinking light.

A rooster at Meg’s started its morning routine and a couple of other small animals were moving about. I found the pasture gate and ventured past the ant mounds to the center of the field. Looking to the south admiring the majestic silhouettes of the 100 ft pines at the Troesel’s, toward the west an old tropical hardwood, to the north, the row of Mexican cypress and to the east a mix fruit, native deciduous and conifer trees. For hundreds of feet around me, I could not see a house nor lights, except for the thousands of natural lights above. The eastern sky lights up and stars gradually fade away.

It is now 5:30, the wrens are singing and a mot mot is whooting joining a brown jay in the background. Signed M.