The difficult part

[View of the Rio Nanay from the 'port' of Por Venir. During my last hour in the field, not counting the boat ride]

Goodbyes are a part of life for me.

It seems I say goodbye more often than I say hello. And with field jobs, it usually is a goodbye. Not a see you later. Not an 'hasta luego' (Spanish for see you later). A goodbye.

It is rare I get to see people from a field job again. Through the wonders of the internet age, I do get to stay in touch a little better - but it is a two way street, and sometimes lives just get so busy, you fail to stay in touch as well as you would like.

I have managed to see some people I have worked with after my first field job with them. My friend Ryan and I managed to work together for a second time in 2009 - through little conscientious planning on our part. I saw my friend Archer that I worked with in 2006, when I worked for her last year in Australia. And my friend Ginger and I, though often separated by oceans (Atlantic or Pacific), have managed to see each other once or twice every year. And I was able to a manage a short visit with a former coworker last year in Colorado, on my way home.

But I've been doing this work for over 10 years now. And have met/worked with probably a couple hundred people, that I have never seen again (though would like to).

Ornithological field jobs bring somewhat random people together who would otherwise probably never have met, except maybe at a bird conference or a bird field trip somewhere. And even then, rarely have I met someone who has the enthusiasm for birdwatching and listing as I have. Our crew this year consisted of a Finn, four Peruvians (or Peruvian born), a Hungarian, a Columbian, an Argentinian, and three Americans, counting myself. As well as two additional Americans that joined us for a brief time in the field. So most definitely, I would not have met many (or any) of these people, except through this field job.

So, yeah, the goodbyes are hard to take.

Field jobs are a different mode of work, I feel. I tell people on field jobs stories and life history that I have told no one else. Perhaps it's the comfort of knowing they don't know your circle of friends and family, so secrets are safe (even in the age of Facebook). But also - you live with these people, on a job like this, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, for weeks to months on end. It's not through boredom, but just through sheer curiosity (that's what makes us scientists!) that we all learn everything and anything about each other. And for the most part, we (field biologists) aren't judgmental.

I love that part. But it makes the goodbyes harder to handle.

I'm the last one left down here, excepting my boss (who currently is in the field). I fly out in a few hours, and the goodbyes are starting to get hard to take. Slowly one by one (and two by two recently), I've been left all alone...

So, to all I have worked with (and this is in no particular order):

Jess: Yay! A hockey fan! That, and the recharge you gave the boss are what I will remember. Having a fresh face, even for a few days, was something we all needed. In addition, we could all tell that you and Judit share a unique friendship. It was great having you aboard.

Katherine: Your odd sense of humor (well, odd to me) was great - and I loved watching you learn how to identify all these wonderful rainforest birds. I hope many more wonderful travels await you. And it was nice to have someone to identify with concerning sibling relationships.

Valentina: Helping you learn your rainforest birds was a real treat. It did help reinforce my desire to be a full time guide. I hope to see you again sometime when I am wandering about Columbia - I know I will get down there, I just don't know when (with 20% of the world's bird species there, it's not an if, but a when).

Stephen, aka Esteban: Just having a guy around after having spent nearly 3 months with mostly women all the time, thanks! Random movie quotes - I love that with crews. And having a non-biologist around for a few days, it helps open fresh eyes. A thirst for knowledge is a great trait to have. Don't lose it.

Jamie: It seems so long ago since you were part of our crew. I appreciated your funny stories. To some degree I envy you switching projects - but I still had fun here. I'll also recall the walk to Nuevo Esperanza, when the four of us were under the weather. At least we weren't suffering alone! And remember collapsing not more than 100 meters from our destination after hiking for an hour?

Percy and Susanna (Peruvian): Thanks for the help with finding new birds. And helping my poor Spanish speaking skills improve, if only slightly. And thanks as well for helping with the identification of those new birds. Susanna, much special appreciation for finding me number 1.300 (and numbers 1.296, 1.297, 1.298, 1.299, and 1.301).

Karina: CHOCOLATE! Chocolate makes everything better. I'm glad for the random special treats we had in the field. Having an extra hand with everything was a huge plus. I look forward to seeing you again, when I make it back to Peru. Someday.

So, these last few people, I will many things of. Lillia ("Lil"), Maru, Judit, and myself formed the crew in the month of October. Oona was with us in the beginning, then came back after a trip to another part of the country to work the tail end of the field season. No knock at all on the rest of the crew - but the trips we took by ourselves were just slightly different.

Oona ("Oon", and half of "Unit"): PUFFBIRD! (That picture is obviously of a bird, not of Oona). Yup. PUFFBIRD. I love your enthusiasm for certain bird groups. And that you have not been afraid to take some chances. You didn't let things slow you down much. I loved that you weren't afraid to speak your mind at times. And your fun questions of the night.

Lillia ("Lil" and at times "Claire"): If you wonder why I chose THAT bird, it's because I remember being very quiet the one day I was banding him. And you were trying to identify it, but were fixated on the flycatchers. And eventually you got it. I appreciate your forthrightness, and I am a better person for having met you (cliche, but true). And it was really fun to watch you grow as a field technician - by the end, you were one of the "experts" in processing a bird. It must have been those days at trente uno, and at San Martin. And I appreciate your concerns about my affairs at home. Stay tuned to my life to know how things turn out.

Maru: Saying goodbye to you was especially difficult, because you left us during our stay in one of the communities. I am glad that you helped me with my Spanish - I am understanding more, especially the written form. As I said during your final question of the night, I will remember randomly communicating with you while I was working in Wyoming. I really enjoyed the long conversations we had during the long walks at km 28. Talking to you helped me think through many of the issues with some of my future adventures. I look forward to seeing you again when I make it to Argentina. Again, it is a when, not if, I make it down there. And thank you as well, for having a sympathetic ear when I was (and still am) concerned about my brother.

Finally, we come to the reason I was able to come down here in the first place:
Judit (rarely "Jud", and the other half of "unit"): I learn something on every job I take. That's my goal. I learned more here than I expected, and more about myself (and how to improve) than I even remotely thought. When I got the job offers from Peru waaaaay back in May (wow!), as soon as you said "bird banding" and "Amazon", you had me. It was no contest.

And I was not disappointed. I learn much about identification skills with birds in the hand, and you gave us the opportunity to band all the birds. And bleed them. I am SO glad I was able to improve (and in the case of taking blood samples, learn) these skills, and you forcing us to do so made it all the better.

But, I will remember your constant energy. And your smile. That day you came out from the community at San Martin, with an ear to ear grin, surrounded by the kids - that's forever fixed in my mind. You manage a crew well, and I hope to be at least half as good as you are at that if I ever need to run one. Thanks for hiring me!

Diversity

[Hylophylax naevius, Spot-backed Antbird]

Diversity (n): the condition of having or being composed of differing elements. Synonym: variety.

Imagine some of the birds you know. Pretty easy when you start to. In the US, some of the following will come to mind: American Robin. Northern Cardinal. Mallard. Canada Goose. Black-capped (or another species of) Chickadee. Bald Eagle. Can you think of more than 20? 50? 100?

If I were to mention, that by current count, there are about 10.000 species (different variety) of birds on the planet, would you really understand what that means? That means of the classic bird "form" you know (wings, two legs, head, tail, etc), there are 10.000 different ways it is put together, and colored. North America has about 750 of these varieties.

Where does one go to see all this diversity? Well, everywhere! But a good place to appreciate the true amount of variety possible is the tropics, where I find myself at the moment. Every day, I see something that makes me go, wow, that's different (birds and other creatures, and plants, and fungi)!

I am fascinated every day by all the different forms life takes. I appreciate the variety of birds, of course, but everything else as well (check out my flickr sets to see everything). And every time I see a new bird, I wonder about what species I might see next. And where the next adventure could bring me.

Now, let's go back to the bird species of North America again. There are about 750 species or so found there. My world checklist now has about 1.350 species of birds on it, that I have seen. I have nearly seen twice as many species in the world than there are in North America. My list for North America is 430 birds or so; so in reality, I have seen two times as many species outside North America as I have in North America. And all because of the tropics.

I have traveled a nice variety of tropical areas the past few years. Costa Rica (with a trip to Panama thrown in). Australia. Ecuador. And now Peru. In Costa Rica, I have done some extensive travel (though the country is quite small), while in Australia, Ecuador, and Peru, my travels have been limited, while my time in one area has been long.

And I really get to appreciate the diversity of those places. Every time I think I have seen much of what there is to see, BAM!, I get something new. Whether it be a bird, a new flower, some wild looking insect, it's fascinating no matter what.

Here in Peru, though, I really am appreciating the variety I am seeing. Lets take one small group of birds, for example: Woodpeckers. Most of us are familiar with the type of bird these are. Thick strong bill. Round head. Powerful neck to hammer at wood. In North America, many of us would be familiar with the Downy and Hairy Woodpeckers in our backyard, as well as perhaps the Pileated Woodpecker. There are also four species of sapsuckers (Williamson's, Red-breasted, Red-naped, and Yellow-bellied). The Northern Flicker. Lewis's, Acorn, White-headed, Red-headed, Black-backed, American Three-toed, Golden-fronted, Ladder-backed, and Strickland's Woodpeckers. I have seen all these. Did you know there were so many (and that there are a few more in North America)?

During my trip here, I have seen the Red-necked Woodpecker (Campephilus ruficauda), Lineated Woodpecker (Dryocopus lineatus), Crimson-crested Woodpecker (Campephilus melanoleucos), Scale-breasted Woodpecker (Celeus grammicus), Chestnut-woodpecker (Celeus elegans [only in the hand]), Yellow-tufted Woodpecker (Melanerpes cruentatus), and Red-stained Woodpecker (Veniliornis affinis [only in the hand]). Pretty good variety.

During our walk out last trip, we walked through some fine forest, with oodles of bird activity. And wouldn't you know it, I still found a new species of woodpecker for my list, the Ringed Woodpecker (Celeus torquatus). Listed as "rare but widespread." Widespread, but rare would be right, knowing that I had been here, in ONE small area of the Amazon, for nearly 90 days at that point, and I hadn't seen it yet.

And still, there are numerous woodpeckers still to see here. Not to mention piculets as well, which are small diminutive woodpeckers. So all this begs the question.

When will I be back?

My trip here is drawing to a close. I finished my last field trip yesterday. Have I "birded" this area out? I got 2 new world species this past trip, and one more new species for Peru. But it's not birded out, not by a long shot. I have been in an area that is 58.000 hectares (143.000 acres). Comparisons to the US National Parks: twice the size of Crater Lake National Park, about three times the size of Acadia National Park, half the size of Grand Teton National Park, and about the same size as Zion. So big, but not by many standards.

And I still need to get some of the birds I have seen in the hand, but have not been able to sight flying freely. Like that lovely bird above, the Spot-backed Antbird. A couple of those woodpeckers (though I have searched often for them!). And numerous others. And I have not even really birded extensive Amazon rainforest yet.

So, yeah, I will be back.

Sometime.