Solo Yolo

If you are unfamiliar with YOLO (you only live once) then I am sorry to say you haven’t been spending enough time on Facebook since this expression is currently trendy. (Which means it is soon to be replaced by the next meme that comes along). Anyway in honor of those mischief makers and uninhibited souls who invoke this particular war-cry I decided to set off on an expedition I have been wary to commit to for some time now. But since you do only live once I figured I needed to get my big girl panties on and just go for it.

I need to preface my story with some facts. For one thing I have a large imagination, I am sort of afraid of the dark (I still run and jump into bed when I turn off the lights), and I have grown up with a family that likes to remind me of what happens to girls when they (insert activity) alone, you get kidnapped/robbed/rapped/etc. Now I know that this is serious business and sometimes unsuspecting women do fall prey to those seeking to take advantage of them, this is a sorry fact of life I wish was not true. Also a fact though is that if we are supposed to be afraid of everything that could harm us in life we might as well not leave our houses (and even there we have plenty that can go wrong so really we’re never totally safe.)

With these facts kept in mind I offer you my solo backpacking trip. This trip has been a long time coming for me, I have always wanted to be brave enough to hike off into the wilderness with my survival essentials on my back and sleep in the forest. For many reasons I had not actually gotten around to doing this. Some of those reasons are listed above. Possessing a very active imagination is great for creativity until you find yourself picturing just how large the strange creature must be that is making that unearthly noise in the dark. Also when one wants to backpack into the wilderness there is certainly going to be long periods of darkness where anything beyond the scope of a small illuminated slice of the world lit up by a headlamp is mysterious and potentially full of things that go bump in the night.

 For these reasons and also the time constraints of internships, college classes, and work, I had not yet ventured alone into the forest. Note: I didn’t discuss the potential threats of being a woman alone in the forest because I believe that being smart about your surroundings and whom you interact with as well as knowing important self-defense, ie. Kick, scream, run, gouge eyes out (and these are things my martial-arts-black-belt-toting boyfriend told me when I asked for self-defense lessons) can make it potentially as safe or safer than being in a city. Plus I have a few really amazing friends that are women, who I look up to, and they have gone many times alone into the wilderness. Anyway back to the point, I hadn’t yet joined these wonderful women in taking a solo trip.

This past weekend I remedied that. I recently bought myself a Big Agnes Copper Spur 1-person tent I strapped that along with my sleeping pad to my backpack, threw in some food, water, and a guidebook to the North Carolina mountains and I was in business. I ended up hiking out 6 and ½ miles, up two mountains (Shortoff Mt. at 2,880’ and The Chimneys at 3,557’). I ended up camping at the top of The Chimneys with an amazing view the other mountains spreading out before me. I can’t say I fell asleep right away, which partially stems from the fact that the tree I picked to hang my food in ended up having a bear sanctuary sign on it and my imagination was plenty amped once I was zipped into my tiny abode. But eventually the length of the hike, ascents and descents of some good elevation, and that it had been 60+ degrees (I got sun-burned!) took over and I fell asleep. In the morning I watched as the sun came up over those beautiful mountains and I hugged myself against the chill of the morning, but also to congratulate myself on finally going it alone.

On my hike back out that day I ran across two guys who were hiking out the opposite direction. I had seen them the previous day on my hike in, and I stopped to ask them if they had camped near the spring that I was going in search of to get water. They gave me directions and then as we were getting ready to part one of the guys looked at me and asked, “Are you going it solo?!” I smiled and told him I was, without missing a beat he followed with, “That’s awesome!” And I have to agree, it felt pretty damn awesome.

Nature

 

I am currently doing an internship at Duke University, and being here in North Carolina so close to some mountains has been torture since I have been too busy to go visit them. But this past weekend I decided I was going to finally purchase that 1-person tent I have been wanting and just go and do it. But then things didn’t quite work out and I ended up staying in Durham for the weekend.

 

So instead of just sulking in my bedroom I decided I should go find what wilderness was near here. I went to the Eno River State Park, which is only about 20 minutes from where I am living here. The State park is 3,900 acres and the hiking trails crisscross over and along the river. I think I might have missed the best of the colors but it was still very beautiful and very comforting being in the forest.

 

If it’s possible a need as basic as that of food and oxygen is time I require in wilderness. Often forgetting this leaves me frazzled and an unenjoyable person to be around. Some people go to church, I go to the woods.

My new water bottle!

Memories are funny like that

 

All of the newness, the stimuli coming from everywhere, is something I miss about Indonesia. I was admittedly a little overwhelmed by this when I was there but looking back now I feel in withdrawal. I miss having small surprising moments of cultural differences appear to me. I miss how good a cold Coca Cola tastes after baking in the heat walking around all day. The fruit was exotic and a really unique experience. The people were as interested in us as we were in them. They were very welcoming and patient with my attempts at speaking bahasa Indonesia with them. I think I left a small part of my heart in Indonesia, a land so foreign I thought I might never go back, but now I can’t imagine never finding myself there again.

Not in the plan

I have had some time to reflect on my experiences in the jungle, and although it was not exactly what I had expected since the field site I was supposed to go to was closed for political reasons, the project I planned to work on could not be done at the research site I did go to, and the cultural differences between the other researchers and I were massive...still I think it was an experience I will draw lessons from for the rest of my life.

Now that I am currently trying to find the direction I should take in life I realize that without this experience I would not have learned many things about doing research in another country and more importantly about myself. Such as the frustrating process of the government paperwork run-around and that you should never assume that paperwork will be done in a timely manner. It will be done, when it is done, which might be in one day for one person and in one week for another. Before going to Indonesia I had the idea that when you make a goal you just have to be diligent to accomplish it. I was rudely awakened from this naive notion when every plan I had fell apart within the first few days. Talk about a learning curve! I had the choice to either give up and go home or to just make the best of the situation and try to scrape together whatever I could so that I could get some field experience since I had already spent all my savings (and money raised from friends and family, as well as a grant from the Psychology Department at my university) to get to Indonesia.

It wasn't ideal, but is was real. I learned that when forced to I can navigate the intricate workings of foreign governments, the cultural nuances of conversing with people in another country, and most importantly I can accept the limitations of my control and just react to the situations presented instead of breaking down because I lacked the ability to be the master of them. This was and is probably the most important lesson I learned in Indonesia. I know that it may seem trivial but I have spent most of my life thinking that I was the the director of my destiny, I could make a goal and work towards it and if I worked hard enough I could achieve anything. But every time I thought I had control of the situation something else happened that knocked me off my high horse again. I was angry and depressed. I wanted to run back to the comfort of my life before, my life where hard work was rewarded with goals accomplished. But as the Rolling Stones say, "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you just might find, you get what you need."

This fall was bound to happen sooner or later, but the fact that it happened in a place so hostile and demanding was crushing. It took all the plans I had made for my life and ripped them out of my hands. I realized that the real world outside of the protection of undergrad is vicious. Rather than ordering it around in the drivers seat, I would actually be on the defense and reacting to what comes. Knowing this and deciding to let go of my grip on everything and just see what fate served up is honestly the hardest challenge I have ever encountered. I am not done, I still catch myself holding my breath and trying to work the angles of most situations to try to force them to come out the way I think they should (or that I want them to). But when I remember that I could be more effective by not worrying so much about what I want to happen but reacting to what is happening, living right now instead of so much in the past or future, I realize that I can let out that breath and just live. This might be something I work on for the rest of my life, but I do not want to be so focused on trying to manipulate my life and miss out on the good spontaneous things that happen. So I will try again and again to remember to do what I can with what life gives me and try to enjoy the ride.

Jungle Lessons

The air is so thick it feels like sucking in honey, the smells here are much different than the forest smells of my native Michigan. The scent that surrounds you in these forests is a mix of decay of wood and old fruit, and when in the vicinity of the ephemeral streams there is an even greater rotting as the swiftness of the flowing water expedites the breakdown of flora and fauna. Since it is not the major fruiting, flowering season there is no sweetness to drown the smell out. This forest is constantly reclaiming the areas that humans try to occupy. There are many broken down boardwalks where the rot has taken the once usable boards and made them slippery slides that deliver you into mud pits that try to claim your shoes. The forest is teeming with creatures that actually do welcome fresh blood, literally. The leeches and mosquitoes are so happy that we are slip sliding our way around in the peat swamp, also attracted to the novelty of our human presence are the sweat bees, who buzz continuously around our heads but with no regard for personal space as they dive bomb ears, eyes, nose and mouth.  

Then there are the orangutans, the reason I am here. I was so lucky, my introduction to this forest was not only to the harsh reality of death and renewal, but it also included the magic of meeting one of the earths most magnificent creatures, one of our evolutionary cousins. Many of the orangutans here have been habituated so we can follow them in the forest without stressing them and causing them to Kiss squeak, a vocalization that sounds just like its name, or having them run away, because they can move much faster through the tree tops than we can slicing our way through the forest with machetes.

Following an orangutan is not all staring googly eyed at the impressive, graceful red apes as you stumble through the forest as the antithesis of grace. It is really demanding work, not just because of the unyielding grasp the forest has on you as you climb over dead trees, through vines, under prickly rattan plants. The real work is in attempting to fill out the data sheets as you are trying to successfully navigate the treacherous forest while keeping your eyes skyward. The data is taken with instantaneous sampling where the sheets must be filled out every two minutes with what the individual is doing (if eating, then what and how), how high they are in the tree, if they are vocalizing (then what voc), are other individuals eating the same food within 10m, if there are two or more orangutans how far are they apart from each other. Also while filling out this sheet you need to write down any social interactions between two or more orangutans and also any unique actions your individual is doing. So you really can never take your eyes off the orangutan even when you are between the two minute intervals. Plus GPS data needs to be taken every half an hour and when the orangutans spend more than 5 minutes eating in a tree. Also there are sheets to fill out when the individual gives a long call or hears a long call and also sheets to record their nest behavior.

The intense pressure of trying to write everything down, trying to make the right approximations for heights and what the orangutans are eating is kind of overwhelming. Then the fact that you follow the orangutans from their morning nest to their night nest means you have to get up at 3am to walk out to the nest (to make sure you get there before the orangutans leave) then you must stay with them until they make a nest in the evening so you know where to go in the morning again. This will make a day of at least 13 hours and sometimes up to 15 hours. It is rough, tough, terrible work. Then to come back to camp and have to try to dry out gear, dump GPS data, dump pictures (to identify other individuals that are found on the follow), put cameras, GPS, Binoculars, compass, watch in silica gel to dry out, and pack new data sheets for the next day. This leaves just enough time to shower (by dumping buckets of water over your head) and eating (usually rice and some sort of vegetables, sometimes eggs) and going to bed. The people who do this work are really a unique breed. They work tirelessly in the forest and then come back shovel in some rice, splash water on their face and then work into the dark entering data, sorting GPS data and pictures and planning the next days follows. You do not have a life while here, there is barely time to get to know the other researchers since you are busy with research constantly. I am trying to juggle all of this while learning Indonesian since the assistants do not speak English and sometimes you follow alone with just an assistant.

Not sure if I could really do this for a couple years like is required for the Ph.D. programs. Camp makes me a little stir crazy since there is no contact with the outside world. No cell service, no Internet access, no new faces, no escape from being with the same people day and night. But since we don’t really know each other it is like standing in a crowded room but being so very alone. It makes me appreciate all the things I have taken for granted at home. The fact that I have a washing machine to clean my clothes; running water that I can drink out of the tap, a refrigerator for vegetables, milk, butter, eggs. Being able to run to the store if I want an ice cream or a cold beer. Being able to talk to my boyfriend, being able to be with people who really know me and care about me. This has been a life changing experience for me in more ways then one but the most important I can see is that it has opened my eyes to my life. It has shown me how finite my time on this earth is and that I don’t think I can stand to spend it continually hunched over a computer worrying about the next publication while time spent with loved ones is pushed aside again and again until it is too late. I don’t want to wait to start living until I get through my Ph.D.  and then until I finish my postdoc, after that when I get a professor position, then when I get tenure. By the time that would happen I will be older, and some of the adventures I want to take will no longer make sense. I want a life and I want it now!

But what about my dream of being a primatologist, of seeking the connections we have with the great apes and then sharing these findings with the world. That still is a respectable pursuit, I have the GPA, the GRE scores, the research experience, I just need to make that decision to go for it and apply to graduate school. How to do both... have a life outside of research and still commit the time needed to be a successful researcher?

Orangs and Orangutans

Indonesia, orangutans, research...these words embodied a feeling of adventure and they meant something different to me when I first arrived at the field site, than they do now.

First, Indonesia, I imagined a country with people who spoke a different language, dressed differently, had different ideas about life...Different. But I didn't consider what that meant, I had no idea of what I expected the people to be like. I have found that indeed "Indonesians" are different, but each person is as unique and individual as any person in the states. Each person lives their life according to personal values and religious affiliations that are not shared by all. In essence there is not a cookie cutter picture I can display for you of what being Indonesian means. This simplicity of this revelation is so humbling for me, when I think about the naive idea I held about learning how different Indonesians are from Americans I feel embarrassed. Of course we are different! But we are all so similar in the end, all rushing through life bumping into people and taking a little piece of knowledge from them and incorporating it into our view of the world, we all have relationships with our friends and family that only we can understand, we all want to live a happy life. The Indonesian people still speak a different language, but even though the words are not the same the feelings are. And I feel like even though I don't understand all the intricate social rules I know that a smile and a laugh go a long way in making a bridge over any cultural differences.

Orangutans. Long legs, even longer arms, red/brown hair, personality. These great apes are amazing. The first day I entered the forest I saw a flanged male, he was huge and the fact that he hung suspended between the miniature looking branches looking right back at me was kind of a shock. I realized that I really was standing in the jungle, I really had seen a wild orangutan, a privilege that may be gone in as little as 10 years. This is devastatingly sad. What makes the situation worse is the fact that orangutans will just continue with their relatively solitary lives until there are no longer enough of them to breed in the wild and then this amazing, smart, relative of ours will no longer roam the forests of their evolutionary birth. Another casualty of human greed. The drive to participate in conservation has always been present in me but now there is a desperate fire where previously a spark existed. I don't know how but these animals need to be saved; I know there are others like me out there, who feel helpless, we need to unite or the realistic estimation of a single decade of freedom left will come true.

The answer to the problem! Research! Wait that doesn't actually make sense...Coming here I thought that if more research could be done then the Indonesian people would benefit from the money paid in fees to the government and the money spent by foreign researchers in the towns that boarder the forest would boost local economies. These may be true, but the other idea I held as fact, that more research would help increase awareness of the plight of orangutans and help save them, is no longer as clean cut as I thought. Research, as I am finding out, is a tricky business. To stay on top and get grants the researcher needs to be producing work tirelessly. Collect data, analyze said data, write scientific paper and try to publish. Publish or perish they say, you either jump on this crazy train or you will not get funding for your project and since this is where the money to live comes from (essentially since universities can drop a professor who has yet to get tenure and is not bringing in grants), you have to produce, produce, produce at a frenzied pace. But with all of these responsibilities coming first (to keep you in the field) the other business of working on conserving the population you are studying comes second. This is not a sustainable system and I think that researchers, grad students and professors know it. I am finding out that maybe research isn't as beneficial for orangutans as I thought. Wow it sucks sometimes when you find yourself in reality, it isn't always so pretty.

Bringing showers to the world!

So I figured it might be a good idea to post some pictures of the place we are staying in Palangka Raya, it is basically the half-way house for researchers coming from Jakarta and headed to the forest camp Tuanan or researchers coming from Tuanan for a rest or to get medical treatment. The house is large with five bedrooms, but for some reason all the girls are housed in one room together and the guys have separate rooms. There is a nice porch where we eat all of our meals so we don’t encourage the swarms of ants to come into the house any more than they already do. 

And we have a shared “bathroom” called the mandi. Using the mandi was a whole new experience for me. There is not a toilet like we are used to in the U.S. there is a picture below so you get the idea. We use the water from the mandi (a tub that we fill with water) and the bucket to scoop the water to ‘flush’ the toilet. 

There is also not a regular shower. The way you are supposed to bathe is by using the same bucket and pouring water over yourself, lathering, and repeat with the water. Now this works but I couldn’t help wondering why there was not a shower in the mandi when all it really needed was a tube hooked to the faucet and then to a shower head so when you turn on the water it comes our the shower head instead of into the mandi. So with oodles of time on my hands while we wait out paperwork one of the other girls and I went about finding all the parts and pieces to do an experiment. And if I have accomplished nothing else with my time here I can say: “Hi, I’m Ricki and I am bringing showers to the World!” Enjoy the picture below of our fantastic creation (that works just like a real shower by the way).   :  )