Living in Green by Addie Cady

Living in the rainforest is living in green. The first day we arrived at La Selva I remember being struck by it—so much color my eyes couldn’t focus. Walking into the trees for the first time, rain-boots planting sloppy wet kisses on the mud, everything seemed to meld together, trees, vines, grasses, into a soup of greenery. I was blown away that our guide could so easily point out the creatures hiding within this tremendous swathe of biomass, a bird here, a blue-jean frog there, two iguanas peering down from the treetops, a mother howler monkey cradling her child, an algae-covered sloth, an ant the size of my thumb (all right, maybe not quite that large). What life!

            In the rainforest breathing is like drinking. The air is heavy in my lungs; it smells of decomposing leaves and pockmarked earth and budding, blooming, wilted flowers. On many stretches of path it wrinkles my nose with what has become the all too familiar reek of peccary, a pig relative that most resembles a massive rodent and that would be nothing but a nuisance if it weren’t so supremely adorable, curled up in piles of up to ten animals snoring under the midday sun. One day, on a plant identification walk with Orlando, one of the station’s naturalists, we were informed that the combined mass of all the ants in La Selva is greater than that of all its mammals. Right then I thought of those piles of peccaries and I shivered to imagine how many ants it would take to outweigh them. If there has been any theme to my studies of nature here in Costa Rica it has been merely a growing comprehension of its astounding scale.

            There is some almost intangible quality of La Selva that brings peace. Perhaps it is the sound of rain on clay rooftops as I sit on a hammock, flipping through pages of class notes, watching as the haze of morning is washed away in the downpour. Perhaps it is the slowness of movement, “tico time” as they call it here—a sense of no hurries, no clocks, pura vida. It might be the smiles of the kitchen staff as I ask to learn the Spanish names of foods or the astounded laugh of the heart of palm plantation manager as I tell him in halting Spanish of the snows of Massachusetts. He wants to know if I’ve ever built a snowman and he’s shocked to find out we leave our houses when there’s snow on the ground. “How do you get out your door?” he asks.

            All my life I have tried to grab onto the world and understand it by force. Here the understanding seeps in through my pores. In the colors, the smells, the feel of the air, the sense of security, even in the face of venomous snakes and bullet ants, I am drawn in. I have been here only four weeks and somehow it already feels like home.

Welcomed in Their Home, Hearts, and Kitchen by Mikala D. Skelton

This past week, we spent three days with an indigenous family in Keloldi. It was an amazing experience, but slightly difficult to get to. A tropical storm had recently passed through the area so the trails where covered in mud; some areas I sunk into mud that almost reached the top of the rain boots. The hike took about an hour and was exhausting but completely worth it. The beautiful house was in the middle of the forest. We had electricity for only two hours a day, mainly so we could have lights on at dinner time in order to see just what we were eating. It was really a shock to my system as I got back to the basics of no electricity, no Internet, and no hot water but it was great at the same time.

The food was also amazing. Sebastian’s wife made corn tortilla type pancakes especially for me since I am gluten-intolerant. Even the people who could eat the other options wanted to eat my pancakes because they were so delicious. Naturally, I wanted to learn how to make them so I asked for the recipe and instead Sebastian’s wife offered to show me how the next morning. In order to do this, I went to sleep around nine, and woke up at 4:30. When I got downstairs, I found Sebastian and his wife cooking in the complete darkness, with flashlights only. At first I just watched but soon they insisted that I try myself. By about 5:30, I was placing the dough in the boiling oil and flipping them myself, with a little timing help from Sebastian. His wife refused to let me stand by and simply watch.

After only being there a mere day and a half, this wonderful couple had completely welcomed me not only into their home but also into their kitchen to help prepare meals. It would have been much easier for Sebastian’s wife to go about her normal routine, but instead she took time out of her morning in order to show me exactly how to do each part and then proceeded to let me try and do it myself. I’m sure this process took much longer than her normal morning cooking routine, but she was more than willing to take that extra time. It was such an enlightening and personal experience to have her welcome me into her kitchen like that as opposed to simply handing me a note card with the ingredients and directions, which is what I was expecting. I am so thankful to their family for giving me that experience, and providing me with a delicious new breakfast option.

A Different Kind of Learning by Alex Schmiechen

            So far, my time at La Selva Biological Field Station in Costa Rica has reminded me of a few essential life-lessons. These include the importance of adaptation and not taking myself to seriously.

            During this past week’s Faculty Led Projects, I remembered how research does not always go as planned. On paper, research always seems precise, intentional, and well though out. However, research is no exception to reality; things never go exactly as anticipated. For example, while interviewing locals about Dengue fever, we had to adapt our questions as we realized the faults in our interview and often times fumbled around while attempting to speak Spanish. Also, while collecting mosquitoes for another project, I realized how hard it is to actually find mosquitoes, let alone capture them with flashlight aspirators. Despite these challenges, I was able to collect data and was reminded of the importance of adaptation in the face of adversity.

            This semester has also reminded me of the importance of not taking myself too seriously. This especially applies to speaking Spanish. I’ve had the opportunity to do so with fellow classmates, professors, and local people. It’s easy to get caught up worrying about saying or doing things wrong; you begin to think it is easier to say nothing at all as a result. I’ve had to remind myself that it is difficult to learn without making mistakes, failure is often an unacknowledged aspect of the educational process. Yes, it can be embarrassing when you mis-conjugate almost every verb in your sentence, but then you probably won’t do it as badly the next time. Throughout these past few weeks I have noticed myself getting more and more confident in my speaking abilities, though this may be a result of realizing that the world will most likely not end as a result of a few misplaced conjugations. As many Ticos would say, “Pura Vida”.

Universal Health Care - What's the Catch? by Sarah Nuss

            During my time at La Selva Research Station, I have been lucky enough to learn a little more about the Costa Rican health care system. Universal health care that is essentially free – what more could you ask for out of a health care system? And why aren’t we all following suit? At least that’s what I was asking myself after our first few lectures. Not only do you get close to free health care insurance here, but the government spends almost a fraction of the cost of what the US spend on health care to produce comparable if not better health outcomes. Even foreigners travel to Costa Rica to get expensive medical procedures done affordably and with comparable outcomes to the US. So, what’s the catch?      

We recently visited an EBAIS clinic nearby La Selva Research Station, which are the local primary health clinics throughout the country that work to bridge the gap between communities and healthcare. This visit gave me a little more insight into the intricacies of the Costa Rican health care system. While yes, everybody is covered under “la caja,” or the universal health insurance in Costa Rica, in order to get a basic appointment at one of the clinics it could take ten or more hours of standing in a line with no guarantee you will get in that day. While public medical schools are free and there is a one year service requirement for all prospective doctors, many doctors are still being turned away from residencies because of stringent test score requirements, creating a shortage of doctors (especially specialized ones). Local EBAIS clinics have great aspects such as community health workers who help do health promotion and primary care within a community itself, helping to focus on prevention and promotion and steering away from relying on emergency care. However, the EBAIS clinic that we visited (and I imagine many others), are not equipped and staffed to deal with more complex cases.

Although there is still much that I don’t understand about both the Costa Rican and US health care systems, it was an interesting comparison for me to make. Which style of care is more effective? What is more important in health care – coverage of all people and recognition of health care as a right, or the ability to treat each patient that walks through the door no matter how complex their health problem is? Or is there a middle ground between these two dichotomous health systems? Is there a way that they could learn from each other to find solutions to the health challenges that each country currently faces?

Energy for a Broader Purpose by Keaton Stoner

            After spending the first four weeks of my Costa Rica experience at the OTS La Selva Biological Station, I have quickly begun to appreciate the Costa Rican holistic approach to life that is naturally engrained in the culture here. As a Type A, self-proclaimed enthusiast of efficiency, “tico time” certainly took a little getting used to, though I am starting to become more comfortable with a more laidback approach to life. However, the approach to life that I am discussing extends far past the idea of low-stress, flexible daily schedule to what it innately means to be a human.

            A few weeks ago, our group visited a Coopelesca hydroelectric dam and I was incredibly impressed with the overarching goals of the operation. While in the United States, most energy companies (most companies, for that matter) have priorities based upon profits, cost cutting, and public relations, Coopelesca seems to be thinking on a different level with a sincere commitment to the environment. Sure, we see “green” companies in the United States, but how many are only green when it’s convenient? How many have an earnest desire to protect our world and are not only striving to gain good publicity as “environmentally conscious?” Coopelesca literally goes out of its way in terms of both money and effort to promote a carbon neutral approach to energy production. Keeping in mind the unavoidable environmental damage that was caused in the dam construction, they have since undertaken a reforestation project to replace the trees cut down, built a bridge and water pipe across the dam canal to maintain the natural crossing of terrestrial and river animals, and constructed a unique fish staircase to allow for upstream fish migration around the dam. By installing cameras on the bridge to take pictures of crossing animals and investing profits in conservation and education, Coopelesca has also shown a social and scientific commitment to the community. All of these efforts only top off the fact that Coopelesca produces clean, naturally powered energy that would otherwise be replaced with the harmful burning of fossil fuels.

            It is refreshing to see a major company with such a holistic idea of humanity. In the United States, we are too often bogged down by superficial priorities that force us to lose sight of the fact that we are cohabitants, not owners, of the natural world. Along with the concept of “tico time,” the sense of pride shown by the Coopelesca workers demonstrates how the Costa Rican community recognizes that as humans, we sometimes need to take a step back and appreciate our environment for what it is, while also identifying our inherent obligation to protect it.