Ever since the start of this Africa thing -- the whole wanting to do research in African sanctuaries instead of just the primate centre – I’ve insisted that my research isn’t really field work, it’s just captive work on an awesome continent. In the last week or so, though, I’ve realized that I really do get to enjoy some of the glories of field work. Simultaneously, I’ve encountered the joys of bureaucracy which are made so much more… interesting by being in a developing nation.
Bureaucracy
Getting my permits has been a curious and confusing adventure. I’ve been told multiple times that IPR can just fix my permits right up for me, and they have seemed to imply the same thing. Yet every time I turn around something has gone wrong. In my latest adventure to Nairobi, I called IPR to check on the status of my permits and tell them that I was going to visit the National Council office. I was told no no, don’t do that, the permits will be ready by the end of the week. I visited the office anyway.
Upon arriving in the office, I was told that my application hadn’t been paid for and therefore wasn’t processed. Nay, not only had it not been paid for, after pulling out my file the kindly dude behind the counter determined that my application form hadn’t actually even been turned in. All of the supporting materials were there (proposal, passport copy, etc.), just no fee, and no actual application. Awesome.
Two young bulls sparring in the marsh. This picture represents my battle with bureaucracy.
Kim’s trip to Nairobi was as fraught with danger as mine. We turned up early to a meeting with Kim’s contact at the University of Nairobi who was helping her acquire her work permits. Unfortunately, we were informed, that if only we had arrived ten minutes earlier (we were already 20 minutes early) that we would have met the guy who actually checks on the permits. If we came back at two, we were told, we would get to meet him in person. Excellent, a three hour delay.
After half a trip to Karen and back because of miscommunication between IPR and myself, an hour of sitting on a cement ledge in the bottom of Utalii house, and a rather stuffed elevator ride Kim and I found ourselves back in the office that processes research permits, this time with all of my application materials and the fee. Only, the conversion from the US dollars that I had paid IPR in to Kenyan shillings that my application fee was being paid in wasn’t quite right and I ended up shelling out an extra 4000 bob. It was worth it to get the application done Right Then, and I hope to be compensated, but still. Fortunately, my application is now complete. And will be ready in two weeks. Or so they say.
Kim’s adventures in Nairobi did culminate in her receiving her work permits. Evidently they had been ready since May but the notification hadn’t been sent to the University of Nairobi. Since Kim’s contacts at the University of Nairobi didn’t actually know her name, they hadn’t been checking directly on her permits either. Applause all around.
Being slapped like an elephant is kinda what my adventures in Nairobi felt like.
The Bush
I find the bushy parts of my adventures much more fun. This section will be sub-divided into the different glories that I get to deal with.
Mud
As I mentioned in my last post, it’s been pouring here. Quite out of season, and quite a deluge, the rains come every few days and turn all the roads the encounter to slush. The rain falls in these really weird, small patches. So while it might be sprinkling lightly at research, chimps could be receiving a full on downpour.
The mud has meant that on at least one occasion I was surfing through to the chimp night house. That was two days after the rain even, and there were a cople of spots where I thought I might not make it out. I took Kim’s advice to heart a just kept my foot on the gas without gunning it, and made it through the mud slow and steady. A week later, my roads to the chimp house were impassable: Kim had headed out that morning and told me it was a solid swamp out there and she did not advise taking that road. So I quickly determined that it would be another day at Young Chimps for me. Shortly after that I drove off to pull Kim out of the mud, another experience I would be hard pressed to find at the primate center.
Purple grenadier
The rain also made the river swell at the dam by chimps, so I was forced to drive from the young chimp house to the observation platform. This was after falling in one morning, so I wasn't particularly displeased by this turn of events, but it did make me feel like a bit of a baby (especially when I saw the river while walking my route and realized that I really could have crossed it on foot).
The Sun
I don't burn easily, and I love my freckles, but the strong UVs here in Kenya are promising to make me swarthy and wrinkly. I don't really want this, but I Hate Sunscreen. I know it's good for you, I know that you should use it every day, but it's just gross. It smells bad, and I recently discovers that when it's on my hands it strips the ink from the outside of my pen. You know the graphics that are often printed on the outside of pens? All of my UC Davis pens say, at best, C Davis now. And my hands and pants are covered in blue ink.
And while I'm bitching about pens, I will point out that I draw on my clothing constantly. I'm not a neat person, we all know this, but I would expect myself to be able to get through a day without covering myself in ink. I can't. It's impossible.
Back to the sun. I wear a hat every day, and make sure I put the screen on at least once. I made the mistake of forgetting my sunscreen AND hat one day and boy did I get a glorious farmers' tan that day. In a fit of vanity I one day tried to reverse my farmers' tan by rolling up my sleeves over my shoulder and only putting sunscreen up to my previously-established tan line. This ended in burnt shoulders and no effect on my upper arm, so now I have swarthy shoulders, a pale patch, and then farmer arms. Awesome.
Sacred ibis
Weird Animal Noises
I am one hundred percent not used to the noises the animals in Kenya make. That's not entirely true. I am quite used to the noises we hear around research -- various birds, zebra, impala, lions, hyenas, the tree scratching on the roof, water dripping in the showers -- but that familiarity does not seem to translate itself to the field. Whenever I am walking the perimeter of chimps and I hear the grunting of some fighting impala I jump and look around me for my warning species (baboons and chimps). If baboons are still around, I know I'm probably safe. If the chimps are rolling their eyes at me, I know I'm probably safe.
Yesterday though, I was walking through the tourist walkway of chimps before any tourists go there. It was warm and humid and I was tired, and then I heard the weirdest growly-rumbly sound I've ever heard in my life. I would have thought it was an elephant if I hadn't been in an elephant-proof area so my mind immediately went to the worst case scenario: there was a leopard growling behind me. I turned: no leopard. And the chimps around me seemed incredibly unconcerned. So I continued my walk and data collection and I heard the sound again. I froze, and then I heard a huge splash and a set of enormous ripples started winding their way down the river. Two hippos had just moved off of the bank (not the bank I was on) and into the river and I watched them swim/moonwalk by. I heard the grunting noise again, and quickly scampered back to a corner of the enclosure that is pretty clear and, in my estimation, safe (it's a corner so probably not the best place to hide, but I was scared). Francis, one of the chimp caregivers, turned up shortly and told me that it was just a hippo. Probably the dominant male of the group just making some dominant male noises.
Tree hyrax
My own forgetfulness
I'm a pretty forgetful person, which I usually combat with routine. I have a great memory for people and events, but the number of times I've made coffee and left it on the kitchen table when I walk out the door does not bear thinking about. At least once a week I forget to bring extra batteries with me to chimps and have to drive back to research to get them so I can actually collect my data. (This is not helped by the fact that I bought heinous off-brand batteries and at least two in every pack seem not to work.) I've also lost my voice recorder for three days (those were three interesting days of all-occurrences data collection), my watch (in the same place as my voice recorder, as previously discussed), my stopwatch, my lunch, my pens, my data sheets. I'm basically a huge noob.
Despite all of this complaining, I'm loving everything about Kenya. All of these issues are just little adventures for me, and I don't mind taking them. I love that on my way home from work I can see elephants fighting in the marsh, or take a quick detour and go see lions or cheetahs. I like the quiet evenings which are filled with data entry (another bane of the field and the reason the position "intern" was invented) and reading and good friends and movies. And of course I loooove my chimps.
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