I had no idea what I was getting myself into when we left for
Parque Nacional General de Division Omar Torrillos Herrera (or PNGDOTH). Little
did I know that it would mean living in perpetual dampness and squeezing 17
people into a cabin with 10 beds and 4 ft ceilings for five days.
(photos courtesy of other people with water-proof cameras because
my camera did not leave its case during the entire stay in PNGDOTH)
Cool leaf-shaped bug that chilled on our door for a few days.
Needless to say it was no five star hotel, but our tiny
cabin soon became affectionately known as the “Hobbit hole.” It was so humid
that nothing ever dried and even my sheets and clean clothes in my bag somehow
accumulated moisture. The park was not supposed to be this damp during our
stay. Our professor told us that a strange cold front uncharacteristic to
Panama’s dry season was causing the intense weather. Whenever we walked the ten
minute trek from our cabin down the muddy road for meals, we were pelted with
wind and horizontal rain. With the wind and rain came endless fog; there were
only fleeting moments when the sky cleared enough for us to see the valleys and
mountains in the distance. At one point it was clear enough to see all the way
to the Pacific ocean. Someone must have taken a picture, and while I’m sad that
I wasn’t able to use my camera in that weather, I also can’t help but think
that some views just can’t be captured in a photo. The layers of mist and
endlessness of the distant ocean would have been lost.
But above all, the wind was the most impressive. When
standing at the edge of the short trail leading from the research center to the
cabin, the wind would gust strong enough to knock me off balance. At times it
felt like I was staring down the mouth of some vicious beast that was bellowing
its discontent with my disturbance to its slumber. At night, the peaceful
chorus of croaking frogs and humming insects was periodically broken by gusts
of wind that shook the cabin. It felt more like a movie set than a tropical
cloud forest.
As for classes, the forest itself was our classroom. We did
a different group experiment each day, the first day focusing on plants, the
second on insects, the third on transects, and the last day we were able to
pick our own topic. My group chose to study the behavior of leaf cutter ants
when obstructions were introduced to their trails. It was fun to learn so
actively (I have definitely broken in my hiking boots), and I loved that our
professor only spoke Spanish so I was able to learn new vocab words and conduct
scientific experiments in Spanish.
The night hike was especially amazing. We walked a simple,
well-outlined trail, but despite the pouring rain we found huge insects, frogs,
spiders, reptiles, and (of course) ants. I was most impressed/unsettled by this
lovely specimen lurking above us in a tree.
Before the end of the hike, our professor had us turn all of
the flashlights off and we were submerged in complete darkness. It was both humbling
and terrifying to realize that our artificial lighting was all that was keeping
us on the trail and that without it the jungle could easily swallow us into the
misty night.
Our last morning there I was woken up at 4:30 am by the
shrieks of others who had discovered a mouse in our cabin and I couldn’t manage
to fall asleep again with the mousy-squeaks coming from my corner of the room.
At 5:30 am we all got up to pack and clean the cabin in order to be ready to
leave by 6am. Then we placed bets to see what time the “chivas” (small trucks
used in the interior to transport people/ cows/just about anything) would come
(they are always late) but were pleasantly surprised that we were able to get
on the road by 7:30. After a short drive down the winding, steep roads out of
the park (ducking occasionally to avoid getting hit in the head by tree
branches), we arrived at the house of the woman who had invited us to breakfast
and had one last fill of hojaldre before packing into a small bus and heading for Sarigua National Park.
On the bus ride there I had a small moment of peace. It happened
when I was listening to an accordion solo of the Panamanian music on the radio while
watching the familiar interior countryside pass along the roadside. I finally
felt like I belonged in this country and that I was familiar with its identity.
It probably had to do with the fact that I was returning to Panamanian “civilization”
after living in the national park for so long, but it was peaceful nonetheless.
I had finally found the “roughing it” Panamanian experience I was looking for.
It was exhilarating and exhausting and I learned a lot about myself in the process.
I hope to continue to be as awestruck by nature as I was in that forest during
the rest of my time in the interior.
After leaving the wettest and coldest tropical rain forest of
Panama, we visited the driest and hottest tropical dry forest of Panama,
commonly referred to as the Sarigua Desert. It was incredible to walk through
this tropical dry forest-turned desert and forget we were still in Panama. Our
professor led us to the archeological site where clay shards of pottery from ancient
indigenous people were found (there were so many lying around I was able to
pick one up and keep it for myself). Then we explored the sand-dune part of the
park where the earth shifted like sand beneath your feet, all due to a
combination of wind, water, and human-induced erosion. We continued across seemingly
endless dunes until the earth was cracked and hard under our feet (the result
of quick changes in temperature from night to day). We trekked further into the
desert to find the dwindling mangrove forest and the shrimp farms that had
replaced them. Once again, the wind was awe-inspiring as it whipped across the landscape
and exfoliated your skin with its endless plumes of dust. We left Sarigua
exhausted, dehydrated, and dirt-covered from head to toe, but I was ecstatic to
be able to use my camera again to try to capture a glimpse of the unbelievable
landscape.
Dried cow poop!
Dead dried algae covered parts of the desert that had previously been underwater
Mangroves!
Then we visited the pottery workshop of Sr. Calderon and I got to attempt to use a manual pottery wheel and had a great conversation in Spanish with the owner and his son.
We’re currently staying at a hotel in the town of Chitre. I
reveled in a hot shower and a flushing toilet and just spend the past 5 minutes
sticking my face inside my bag of clean laundry. Tomorrow morning we leave at
8am for the city of David, where I’ll meet my new homestay family for the week
while we study local fisheries. I’m ready for another homestay and eager to
continue improving my Spanish and can’t wait to snorkel!
View of Chitre's main square from the balcony of our hotel
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