A lizard that walks on water

There is a lizard that people call the Jesus Christ lizard because it can walk on water. Another name for them is basilisk lizard, and there are a few different types. I've seen them in mangroves a few times in Panama, and here's a photo of one I saw yesterday. This one was not walking across the water, but was sitting in a tree. It's a plumed basilisk lizard--see all the cool fringe stuff on its back? This is a male. The females do not have all the fringe.

Spinybacked orb weaver

The name Spinybacked orb weaver is pretty cool, but what else would you expect for such an awesome looking spider? I know you are probably thinking, wait, that is a spider? Even people who are afraid of spiders aren't afraid of this little guy.  At least, I wouldn't be if I were afraid of spiders...does that make sense? It's pretty tiny, too. They also come in white with red spines, which you might see in Florida.

Close encounters

Yesterday the rest of the team went out to the field while I stayed at the lab. When they got back, they showed me the terrifying experience they had with a crocodile.

Taylor went up for a closer look at the crocodile. They told him no, but he just wouldn't listen.

 This triggered the never-ending scream. It's pretty close to Munch's The Scream, wouldn't you say?

Then they ran. So fast they broke the sound barrier.

But Dr. Sousa was preoccupied with his data, and didn't see the dark 

shadow approaching him until it was too late. 

Isn't our field team sweet?

Wow Plants

Animals are cool, but plants do pretty awesome things sometimes too. This plant hides when you touch it. Check it out:

(Excuse the dirty fingernails, this was after a day in the mud.) Its name is Mimosa pudica and it is in the legume family (Fabaceae). The movement happens when cells lose turgor pressure (basically water pushing against cell walls). It may be a defense mechanism against things that eat the plant. 

Tribute to a turtle

Sad news today. Our little turtle friend, Milagro, has died. He was well and alive yesterday and mysteriously turned up dead today. We are not sure what happened. Yesterday I saw him attempting to eat the starfish in his tank, and he was picking at their feet. He may have gotten underneath the starfish attached to the wall--starfish tube feet are very sticky and hard to get off. Possibly he couldn't free himself from the starfish and drowned. Another possibility is that he had some internal ailment, but we just will never know. We are very sad here at the lab and wish it hadn't happened.

 Goodbye, little guy. 

Animal sightings in the dry season

Greetings from Panama! It's the dry season here, so sloth sightings have been rare...they like new green leaves and there are not a ton of those out right now. Instead of sloths, I bring you the following:

 A river shrimp from the genus Macrobrachium, found in a black mangrove forest:

A satiny parrot snake, found alongside the road:

And a baby hawksbill sea turtle who washed up in a storm and is being kept at the Smithsonian station until he gets bigger. His name is Milagro, or Miracle. 

Back in Panama

Whew, it's been a long day of traveling. But here I am in Panama City again. On to Bocas del Toro tomorrow for a full day of fieldwork. Let's hope there are propagules...!

Countdown to frustration

For the first few days after we arrived in Panama, everything was going swimmingly (with the exception of the aforementioned problems)...however, after five days here Panama is getting to me. It's hard to describe what it is, exactly, that is so frustrating. It's not just fieldwork and its many complications, because I have done fieldwork elsewhere without getting so frustrated. I think this is distinctly Panamanian...the bugs, the bugbites, the potholes in the road, driving in Panama City and their COMPLETE LACK of street signs, the honking and staring, the catcalls, the flat tires (probably due to so many potholes).

Driving in Panama City is not for those who are faint of heart or have high blood pressure, because it is a hair-raising experience. Very few street signs exist, and when they are present they are so small you can only see them when you're driving past them. Whose great idea was that? As my friend Julie says, it's a small town mentality where you just know your way around (but Panama City is a huge city with tons of people and it seems, more cars). None of the streets are straight or run parallel, and I'm just thankful I had a map and another person to navigate last night as we drove around and around during rush hour. The way Panama City street authorities deal with potholes is draw a bright yellow line around them.

Also, I got a flat tire, which is not surprising given that there are so many potholes and so much debris to drive over. This is not a big deal in Panama since it seems to be a common occurrence here and getting a tire fixed costs less than five dollars. However, when the tire was being changed (I of course did not change it myself), one of the wheel studs that holds the tire on the car BROKE! These are supposed to be strong, sturdy screws to hold the tires on a big SUV. I am told you can drive with only three screws, and this was one of six so once again, it's fine...

Things that go wrong

This post is going to be a multi-part, ongoing list of things that go wrong as I attempt to do fieldwork in Panama. I haven't left the US yet, and am only going to be in Panama for 10 days. Because I know that obstacles always come up, I am mentally prepared to not freak out when these things happen and just take them in stride. So far:

Problem 1: I left my passport in another city. Luckily I realized this yesterday and am leaving tomorrow.
Solution: FedEx has a same-day courier service, and though it is expensive, at least I'm getting updates whenever the package changes hands (from the pick-up to the airport, etc). It should be arriving to me soon.

Problem 2: The boat at the research has motor problems. Not surprising; what is more surprising is that they actually have a boat for once. It is unlikely that the boat will be fixed in a week when I wish to use it.
Solution: Possibly go out with local boat owner. I have done this before and though it isn't ideal, it does allow me to get to populations of my plants that are inaccessible from a road.

Problem 3: I made arrangements to have 150 mangrove seeds collected for me from a location in Panama that is difficult and expensive for me to travel to. The seeds will be sent to a research station and waiting for me when I arrive. However, only 54 seeds were collected. Apparently they were not so easy to find.
Solution: Not sure yet. If there were a boat at the station (see problem 2), I could spend some time searching the forest for seeds. Now, however, my experimental setup is in jeopardy.

Out of my control

Dealing with nature's wily ways is one of the challenges of being an ecologist. I am supposed to be leaving for Panama in two weeks, for a short and efficient trip to set up an experiment. In this experiment, I will plant baby mangroves and see if they can survive and grow in places they don't usually grow. To be able to do this, however, I need propagules (aka seeds). This year Panama has had some crazy weather, and had so much rain the canal was closed in December due to flooding. So the trees might not be producing propagules at the same time they usually do, meaning when I go there won't be any seeds. Of course it would be a waste for me to fly down there if there is nothing for me to plant, but if I push the trip back I risk missing the fruits. I'm anxiously awaiting news from my acquaintances in Panama who are checking the status of the trees...

Oh, Panama

This Fourth of July, I will be feeling very patriotic. Usually I like the fireworks and festivities surrounding the anniversary of our nation’s independence, but I don’t always have a particular reason to feel patriotic. This year, a month in Panama was enough to do it—make me miss the good old US of A. The reasons? Lots…number one: everyone (men, women, old, young) stares as I drive by. I’m not sure what’s behind the staring; it isn’t necessarily that I’m a gringa because I have had a couple of people wonder if I was Latina or American before talking to me. But I do know that Panamanians begin staring from a very young age. In the U.S. it is considered rude to stare, and those who are staring do not make eye contact with their target for very long before turning away abashedly. In Panama, however, people stare for much longer than is socially acceptable and are not ashamed when you catch them at it. In fact, they seem to like it. This is very uncomfortable for you when you are being stared at; you think you catch them and they just keep looking at you. Then you turn away abashedly because you don’t know what to do. It is quite confusing and I don’t know what they mean by it. These people would be very good at psychological interrogations, I think.

Number two: The honking drives me nuts. In Panama, honking is accepted as a general greeting toward anyone on the street, whether they are driving, biking, walking, or just standing. It is customary for a driver to honk when he is passing someone. This is pretty reasonable, as it is good to know when someone is approaching. However, if you are the only pedestrian on a two-lane road where cars are very uncommon, it is quite easy to tell if a car is approaching. After all, you can hear it from at least half a mile away. Thus the driver does not need to honk loudly at ear level just as he passes you, unless he is a hearing specialist and wishes to recruit more clients by ruining the hearing of everyone he meets on the street. During rush hour, which happens most of the day in Panama City, people think honking will help them get places. Newsflash: it doesn’t. Taxis are particularly guilty in the honking matter: honking means, “I’m here! Want a ride? Let me stop my car in the middle of the road while we negotiate the price and hold up all the traffic behind me.” More honking ensues.

Number three: The street signs, or lack thereof. None of the roads are marked with their names. And when there is a sign, there is not much hope of knowing which road it refers to because all the roads have multiple names. I rented a GPS to help me navigate around Panama City and Garmin must have made up some of the road names because they cannot possibly be real names. Frangipani Road? Boyd Roosevelt? Is that someone’s first and last name? Boyd? The GPS often wants to take me the wrong way down one-way roads, or through locked gates that there is no hope of me penetrating. So it takes three times as long to get anywhere, but I still feel better off using the GPS than not because at least it hasn’t gotten me lost in any bad neighborhoods. Outside of the city, the highways at least have mileage signs every so often. But these are put up by the rental car companies, not the government. And there are random off ramps that are unmarked, so you just have to guess if you should go straight or veer right and hope the road leads to where you want to go. I have driven a lot in the US lately and there are warnings for every exit miles and miles before.

Number four: The lack of lane lines on the road. Because there are often no lines demarcating lanes, it is common for a two-lane road to become three lanes, or four lanes if people decide it is time to drive on the shoulder. In some places with a lot of trucks, it is courteous to pass on the shoulder to keep traffic moving. I started to understand why there are no lane lines when I saw the Highway Authority hand-painting yellow lines down the road. They laid a rope about 30 yards along the road and painted yellow dashes across it every few inches. Apparently Panama didn’t get the memo that now we’re in the 21^st century and there are machines that can paint lines on roads. It’s a lot safer for the workers and makes nicer lines.

Number five: Doing science here legally is quite difficult. It used to be that a scientist could apply for a research and collecting permit in English or Spanish, get the permit and it would be good for year. Not many people ever asked to see the permit, but it is good to comply with the laws. Since the new president came in last year, permits are now only good for six months but it takes four months to get one after applying for it. That means you can be granted a permit and have it for two months before it is time to apply for a new one; since they want a progress report with the new application, you better hope you have something to report after only two months. The application also has to be in Spanish; this fortunately is not a problem for me but there are many scientists who do research in Panama and do not speak Spanish. I don’t know how they are getting their permits. I applied for my research permit months ago and have been waiting for it. I also applied for an export permit at the same time, because I wanted to bring samples back to the U.S. Of course to bring anything to the U.S. I would need an import permit, which required that I go to the closest US Department of Agriculture center to show my ID. It wasn’t very close, but I drove to the USDA center in farmland California, showed my ID and got my import permit ten days after I applied for it. Ten days total. Not even ten business days. There was also a convenient online application process and I could check the status of my permit online. In Panama, there is no online application process, no way to check the status, and no way to expedite a permit. It takes at least four months, which is TWELVE TIMES as long as it takes in the U.S. Now remember that Panama is a country the size of South Carolina with only three million people living in it. Sure, there are a lot of scientists who want permits to study the tropical rainforest and the interesting wildlife therein, but the U.S. has many more people doing research and many more permits to grant, of the collecting and importing and exporting nature. So why on earth does it take Panama so long to grant a simple permit?