Coming back to technology after so much time away really is its own culture shock. When I got my laptop back a week ago, I was absolutely overjoyed. Finally- my key to the world, my link to home, friends, news, media and music. But now with all of this accessible to my fingertips, all I want to do is read my books or work on my portuguese. All of a sudden my technology is limiting me. It finally took a nice e-mail from my mother- kindly asking me to just assure her that I am alive- to remember I really do need to connect with people again. So here I am! And now I have to catch up on all the adventures of the past three weeks...
The inferno of the Cerrado, hidden dangers in the Rainforest, the animals of the Pontanal: this will all take hours to write about! For now, I am going to begin on where I am currently in my journey. I have just started week one of my internship at CEM-UFPR, the Oceanography and Marine Sciences center of the Universidade Federal do Paraná, with Camila Domit. Camila is a wonderful teacher who is very passionate in her studies on Cetaceans (dolphins and whales) and sea turtles and human impacts. Currently I have been doing a lot of reading on habitat and behavior on both of these, as well as learning how to identify the different species, their scientific names, and their common names in both english and portuguese. Tomorrow I and my other internship comrade, Lucy, are giving a short presentation on a paper we read... all in portuguese!
Yesterday and today we finally got to do some hands on work... maybe a bit too hands on even. Yesterday evening we were put to work cleaning skulls and bones that had all their flesh rotted off. The stench vaguely reminded me of my uncles milkroom on the dairy farm, only taking that smell and multiplying it by a thousand. I was so thankful for my surgical mask. Returning home though (oh, that is right, we have our own beach house!), we had to strip off all our clothes outside because the smell would move to anything our clothes touched. I am not sure who was more embarrassed, me or my neighbor when she spotted me darting inside quickly in just my underwear. What she must think of americans now...
This morning we woke up at the grand hour of 6 to walk along the beach and collect beached specimens. Today we only found turtles, from which we retrieved the skull, femurs and humerus for further lab analysis later (after more cleaning of course...). Unfortunately/fortunately, no dolphins were found. As much as I would like to sample a dolphin carcass, I think it would be very hard at first to find a dead one.
I recently re-watched a documentary that I absolutely love- The Cove. For anyone who has not heard of this, it is about the massive dolphin killings occurring in Taiji, Japan. This movie has really touched me in many ways. First- since I never grew up eating much sea food, I am disgusted at the sea market industry. The by-catch rates and fishing practices are horrible, and the current consumption rate is rapidly depleting ocean fauna. The biggest change for me though, was my stance on dolphin and whale captivity. Realizing the intelligence and beauty of these creatures, I cannot just accept their treatment. Dolphins have an enormous range, they migrate hundreds of miles and enjoy surfing the waves and playing in the ocean. These creatures cannot be kept in a small tank in Sea World. As amazing as it is to experience their tricks and fun in a dolphin show, I don't think I could ever enjoy seeing one again. I know I could keep discussing this topic, but honestly, seeing this film is the best way to find out. Making an impact doesn't take much if many people make the decision together to stand up for what is right. The first step is to get informed!
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
...and it was all yellow
Ugh- so many emotions in one day, I can´t really pin it down. Happy, tired, crabby, sad, homesick, excited, annoyed. Regardless, too many things are swirling around in my head that I need to write down.
First of all, I literally spent all last night out dancing. I don´t know how the Brazilians here do it, but the show we saw didn´t even start till after 1 am!! The bar we went to was this incredible place, the theme was Soviet Russia. Everything was red and gold, and propaganda and old photos where everywhere- young and strong russian men and women brandishing the sickle and hammer. Most of the drinks were vodka, white russians and other names like the KGB. The opening band was what I would say is the Brazilian version of hipster- all grungy guys and a delicate girl singer crooning sad english songs. The second band rocked though. They played some popular brazilian songs, but then did covers like Kings of Leon and Arctic Monkeys. Tiffany and I grabbed a spot in front and started rocking out. To our right were some hipster groupies dancing discretely, eyeing us up as we jumped around and tossed our hair. However, after I left quickly for a bathroom break, I returned to see that they had hijacked our spot and were now dancing like whe had been 5 minutes ago. This did not go unnoticed by our brazilian friends though- who laughed at how those girls started copying us. Maybe now they learned its about feeling the music, not just watching it. I was more than exhausted returning to the hostel at 6:30 am though. Maybe one brazilian show is enough for a long time.
Today I got picked up by my uncle Laury and Ingrid to go have lunch and meet with my other relatives I have here. Besides once again being stuffed with meat and the multiple jokes being made at my expence, I had a great time. What made it so wonderful was my great-great uncle Kurt. He is the 86 year old German cousin of my grandmother Maria, and he is just delightful! He is by far the easiest person for me to understand (I think its his german accented portuguese... weird), and he just loves to tell me stories about my family back in Germany and here in Brazil. Today was so special, I only wish I had the ability to really understand every detail of his stories though, I am sure much got lost in translation. But this is one story he told me:
Long, long ago in Germany during the second world war, Kurt was a very young man who was made to serve. One day, he was injured and was lucky enough to get on a train toward a town with a hospital. He was too hurt to stay conscious though, so a nurse had to write his information and his conidition on his hand so he could be identified when he arrived. When he arrived at the station, one of the nurses took one look at his name, Kurt Ocht, and began shouting to another nurse on the platform. She called out `Maria- I think this might be a relative of yours!`
My grandmother, a nurse during the war, climbed on and helped move Kurt to the hospital. When he eventually came to, they found out that they were cousins that had never met but somehow found themselves together in this place. Kurt healed quickly, but as the American front was rapidly approaching, the Germans were anxious to put men out at the front lines. My grandma took Kurt and hid him in the basement of the hospital for a full week, keeping him from being found by the military. He continued to hide when the Americans secured the town, afraid that they wouldn´t accept his surrender. Being a nurse, Maria easily made contacts with a couple American Captains, and was able to get him validation to be in the city. Then it was arranged for him to sneek out with the American troops so he could return home unharmed.
Several years later, Germany in ruins and with little hope for a future in broken Germany, Kurt found his way across the sea to Santa Catarina, Brazil. As luck would have it, Maria had also immigrated, but to Peru. There she met a young English gentleman who had just finished his service in the British Navy, and they too decided to start fresh in Brazil. Every year, their families would exchange children, and they became very very close.
Seeing the brightness and joy in Uncle Kurt´s eyes touched me so much. I couldn´t imagine the bravery and courage he and my grandmother had to survive in such a hard time.
I was even more touched when Kurt gave me some old photos of my grandparents and my dad and aunt Patsy. The absolute first thing I thought though was- why is Mitch in this picture? It seriously looks just like my brother. For whatever reason, those old photos have a special quality that is no longer in pictures today. I don´t know if it is how they are aged, or the yellow tint in all the colors, but they capture a candidness and joy unmatched by any other era.
Oh! One thing I keep forgetting to bring up is that right now the elections for president are being held in Brazil. Not only that, but also Governor of Paraná and senators and many other offices. They Brazilian system is crazy, people with flags and boomboxes blasting commercials are everywhere. To help the illiterate, each candidate is assigned a number so you can vote based on number recognition. The system is very quick too- all mechanical, so the results are going to be in TONIGHT. There is a very high chance that Brazil might have it´s firt woman president. Talking to many people, it doesn´t seem like many of the candidates are that different, and none really stick out as a leader. I wish I knew more, but honestly, people who talk about it talk so fast, I can´t even hope to keep up. But as soon as I know who is elected, I will for sure find out what is going to happen and how things will change.
First of all, I literally spent all last night out dancing. I don´t know how the Brazilians here do it, but the show we saw didn´t even start till after 1 am!! The bar we went to was this incredible place, the theme was Soviet Russia. Everything was red and gold, and propaganda and old photos where everywhere- young and strong russian men and women brandishing the sickle and hammer. Most of the drinks were vodka, white russians and other names like the KGB. The opening band was what I would say is the Brazilian version of hipster- all grungy guys and a delicate girl singer crooning sad english songs. The second band rocked though. They played some popular brazilian songs, but then did covers like Kings of Leon and Arctic Monkeys. Tiffany and I grabbed a spot in front and started rocking out. To our right were some hipster groupies dancing discretely, eyeing us up as we jumped around and tossed our hair. However, after I left quickly for a bathroom break, I returned to see that they had hijacked our spot and were now dancing like whe had been 5 minutes ago. This did not go unnoticed by our brazilian friends though- who laughed at how those girls started copying us. Maybe now they learned its about feeling the music, not just watching it. I was more than exhausted returning to the hostel at 6:30 am though. Maybe one brazilian show is enough for a long time.
Today I got picked up by my uncle Laury and Ingrid to go have lunch and meet with my other relatives I have here. Besides once again being stuffed with meat and the multiple jokes being made at my expence, I had a great time. What made it so wonderful was my great-great uncle Kurt. He is the 86 year old German cousin of my grandmother Maria, and he is just delightful! He is by far the easiest person for me to understand (I think its his german accented portuguese... weird), and he just loves to tell me stories about my family back in Germany and here in Brazil. Today was so special, I only wish I had the ability to really understand every detail of his stories though, I am sure much got lost in translation. But this is one story he told me:
Long, long ago in Germany during the second world war, Kurt was a very young man who was made to serve. One day, he was injured and was lucky enough to get on a train toward a town with a hospital. He was too hurt to stay conscious though, so a nurse had to write his information and his conidition on his hand so he could be identified when he arrived. When he arrived at the station, one of the nurses took one look at his name, Kurt Ocht, and began shouting to another nurse on the platform. She called out `Maria- I think this might be a relative of yours!`
My grandmother, a nurse during the war, climbed on and helped move Kurt to the hospital. When he eventually came to, they found out that they were cousins that had never met but somehow found themselves together in this place. Kurt healed quickly, but as the American front was rapidly approaching, the Germans were anxious to put men out at the front lines. My grandma took Kurt and hid him in the basement of the hospital for a full week, keeping him from being found by the military. He continued to hide when the Americans secured the town, afraid that they wouldn´t accept his surrender. Being a nurse, Maria easily made contacts with a couple American Captains, and was able to get him validation to be in the city. Then it was arranged for him to sneek out with the American troops so he could return home unharmed.
Several years later, Germany in ruins and with little hope for a future in broken Germany, Kurt found his way across the sea to Santa Catarina, Brazil. As luck would have it, Maria had also immigrated, but to Peru. There she met a young English gentleman who had just finished his service in the British Navy, and they too decided to start fresh in Brazil. Every year, their families would exchange children, and they became very very close.
Seeing the brightness and joy in Uncle Kurt´s eyes touched me so much. I couldn´t imagine the bravery and courage he and my grandmother had to survive in such a hard time.
I was even more touched when Kurt gave me some old photos of my grandparents and my dad and aunt Patsy. The absolute first thing I thought though was- why is Mitch in this picture? It seriously looks just like my brother. For whatever reason, those old photos have a special quality that is no longer in pictures today. I don´t know if it is how they are aged, or the yellow tint in all the colors, but they capture a candidness and joy unmatched by any other era.
Oh! One thing I keep forgetting to bring up is that right now the elections for president are being held in Brazil. Not only that, but also Governor of Paraná and senators and many other offices. They Brazilian system is crazy, people with flags and boomboxes blasting commercials are everywhere. To help the illiterate, each candidate is assigned a number so you can vote based on number recognition. The system is very quick too- all mechanical, so the results are going to be in TONIGHT. There is a very high chance that Brazil might have it´s firt woman president. Talking to many people, it doesn´t seem like many of the candidates are that different, and none really stick out as a leader. I wish I knew more, but honestly, people who talk about it talk so fast, I can´t even hope to keep up. But as soon as I know who is elected, I will for sure find out what is going to happen and how things will change.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Grey beaches
Today is our first day back in Curitiba after a long and epic week in Pontal do Sul, a small and beautiful beach town. At first, Pontal is very eerie, and reminds me of a Twighlight Zone episode. There are tons of closed restaurants and icecream and hotdog stands all along the main strip- waiting to reopen in the summer when all the tourists come. Everything is painted bright pastel colors that has faded in the sun and salt. For the first couple days, the beach was grey and dismal. Walking along in the grey watching the water roll onto the light sand, one couldn´t help but feel thoughtful and isolated. But then the sun would peak out and dazzle the sands and the water, making it blue and white all around. In either type of weather, it was amazing.
At the CEM center of the University Federal do Parana, we got to do all kinds of amazing things- visit the wildlife rehab center and feed the birds, penguines and seals, disect a sea turtle, study burrowing owls, and take long walks on the beach searching for beached animals. Everywhere there was life (or what had been) and it was so unlike anything I had seen before in the midwest. Frigate birds and brown boobies flew overheads, and everyone must always watch out for the small, but very aggressive, Queiro Queiro. One of the days we had off and rented a boat to go to the famous Ilha do Mel (Honey Island). This place was my absolute favorite. We walked the trails and got to explore Forteleza, an old fort that was built during the colonization era. I saw giant lizards walking lazily around and saw magnificent white egrets among the ocean edge. In the afternoon we got to relax with some cold drinks and swim in the ocean. The waves and currents are strong and unpredictable, once I ended up too far out and realized how exhausted I was. That moment was a bit terrifying to me, realizing I was at the mercy of the sea. Making it back was no problem however, and once I was back to shore, another burst of energy came forth, inspired by the sun and the open beach before me. I ran to where the sand met a huge outcropping of rock, where I could climb up and lay about 50 feet above the water and soak up the sun. Looking around me at the Island mountains and trees, my vision slightly blurry from the salt and humidity in the air, I couldn´t help but imagine that I was in heaven. The raw beauty that surrounded me was breathtaking. To the east I could look out and see nothing but ocean, and I was in awe at the thought that it would only end once it hit Africa.
The most amazing thing about the trip though was me finding a fantastic internship. I was able to meet with a researcher named Camila (who is absolutely stunning), and find out about her work studying marine mammals (mainly dolphines) and sea turtles and how they are affected by human influence. What her group does is a variety of data collecting, from interviewing fisherman to disecting beached animals and monitoring behavior or the estuary residents (dolphine families!). I will be helping with all of this, and got great practice watching and helping her undergraduate students dissect a juvenile sea turtle. Forget the fetal pig I dissected in high school, this was the real deal. No preservatives, just the dead, bloody turtle. The most heartbreaking thing though, was inspecting the stomach and intestinal contents. This was where we found how the turtle died. Tons of pieces of plastic were inside the stomach, blocking it from digesting its real food, which is sea grass. One shocking discovery was a hard piece of plastic that must have come from the rim of a container (similar to what you get yogurt or sour cream in). The undergraduate students told me that this was very common, these turtles smell the algae on the floating garbage so they eat it.
Seeing hte beauty of the blue sea, it is hard to believe just how much crud there is in it. But looking at the once beautiful and graceful sea turlte in front of me on the table, I felt so guilty, knowing that it could just as easily been I who killed it by my wastefulness or accidental littering. Everything we do has a consiquence in one way or another, I can only hope to do the best I can in giving back and helping these animals survive to see another day in this polluted world.
At the CEM center of the University Federal do Parana, we got to do all kinds of amazing things- visit the wildlife rehab center and feed the birds, penguines and seals, disect a sea turtle, study burrowing owls, and take long walks on the beach searching for beached animals. Everywhere there was life (or what had been) and it was so unlike anything I had seen before in the midwest. Frigate birds and brown boobies flew overheads, and everyone must always watch out for the small, but very aggressive, Queiro Queiro. One of the days we had off and rented a boat to go to the famous Ilha do Mel (Honey Island). This place was my absolute favorite. We walked the trails and got to explore Forteleza, an old fort that was built during the colonization era. I saw giant lizards walking lazily around and saw magnificent white egrets among the ocean edge. In the afternoon we got to relax with some cold drinks and swim in the ocean. The waves and currents are strong and unpredictable, once I ended up too far out and realized how exhausted I was. That moment was a bit terrifying to me, realizing I was at the mercy of the sea. Making it back was no problem however, and once I was back to shore, another burst of energy came forth, inspired by the sun and the open beach before me. I ran to where the sand met a huge outcropping of rock, where I could climb up and lay about 50 feet above the water and soak up the sun. Looking around me at the Island mountains and trees, my vision slightly blurry from the salt and humidity in the air, I couldn´t help but imagine that I was in heaven. The raw beauty that surrounded me was breathtaking. To the east I could look out and see nothing but ocean, and I was in awe at the thought that it would only end once it hit Africa.
The most amazing thing about the trip though was me finding a fantastic internship. I was able to meet with a researcher named Camila (who is absolutely stunning), and find out about her work studying marine mammals (mainly dolphines) and sea turtles and how they are affected by human influence. What her group does is a variety of data collecting, from interviewing fisherman to disecting beached animals and monitoring behavior or the estuary residents (dolphine families!). I will be helping with all of this, and got great practice watching and helping her undergraduate students dissect a juvenile sea turtle. Forget the fetal pig I dissected in high school, this was the real deal. No preservatives, just the dead, bloody turtle. The most heartbreaking thing though, was inspecting the stomach and intestinal contents. This was where we found how the turtle died. Tons of pieces of plastic were inside the stomach, blocking it from digesting its real food, which is sea grass. One shocking discovery was a hard piece of plastic that must have come from the rim of a container (similar to what you get yogurt or sour cream in). The undergraduate students told me that this was very common, these turtles smell the algae on the floating garbage so they eat it.
Seeing hte beauty of the blue sea, it is hard to believe just how much crud there is in it. But looking at the once beautiful and graceful sea turlte in front of me on the table, I felt so guilty, knowing that it could just as easily been I who killed it by my wastefulness or accidental littering. Everything we do has a consiquence in one way or another, I can only hope to do the best I can in giving back and helping these animals survive to see another day in this polluted world.
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