SO much has happened in the past week!

First, a new group of volunteers from the Earthwatch Institute arrived to help us collect data on the sifakas. This is a project with which I have been involved since 1998, where people with no previous field research experience volunteer to become “scientific tourists” and help collect data for our project for two to four weeks. There is a parade (complete with a small military marching band), speeches by local officials, an exposition with booths presenting information on modern (conservation friendly) bee keeping techniques, medicinal plant gardens, etc., and an environmentally focused trivia competition for the school children. It is a wonderful time to celebrate and educate, but it also takes a fair amount of organization to prepare for such a celebration.

Third, we saw some changes in one of our study groups. On the down side, it looks like we lost “Brown”, a two-year-old female sifaka living in study group #1, to a predator this week. We observed her group on June 4th and she was there…but when we returned to study the group again on June 7th, she was gone! Although we spent the rest of the week looking for her within and outside of her group’s territory, no one has seen her nor has anyone heard her giving “lost calls”. Unfortunately, because she is so young, it is very unlikely that she would have migrated into another sifaka group. Therefore, the most likely explanation for her disappearance is that she was eaten by a fossa, the sifakas’ main predator.

On the up side, however, “Green Orange”, the adult female living in study group #1 gave birth to a baby this week! Sifaka infants are very tiny when they are born; they only weigh about 5.3oz or one-third of a pound. However they grow very quickly and usually weigh about 7.5lbs by the time they reach 1 year of age. For the next few months, Green Orange will carry this infant on her front (often tucked into the space between her stomach and thigh). Then, when the infant gets older, he or she will ride on Green Orange’s back.

The first couple of days following my arrival in Ranomafana were spent getting the project equipment organized and meeting with my research team and the staff of the Centre ValBio (Centre International de Formation pour la Valorisation de la Biodiversité); the research station that helps us to coordinate our research.  We also met with the ANGAP staff (Association National pour la Gestion de Aires Protégées, the authorities who are responsible for the management of Madagascar’s national parks), to update them on our research and discuss new developments in Park management. Since it is their job to oversee research and tourism in the park, as well as to protect the forest from human encroachment (hunting, logging, etc.), it is very important that we share the findings of our research with them.

Then, it was off to the forest! It feels great to be back. After a few days following the animals, I’m finally starting to get my forest legs back. (In other words, I’m no longer tripping and slipping and huffing and puffing as I hike around in the forest.) The study animals look good and the Malagasy research technicians with whom I work have been doing a great job of following the animals and collecting project data in my absence. They have identified which sifaka females are pregnant, and it looks like we can expect at least two babies to be born into the disturbed forest study groups in the next month or two!

It is so wonderful to be back in Madagascar! I arrived in the capitol of Madagascar, Antananarivo (or ‘Tana’, for short) one week ago today and was immediately met with the sensations that I have come to associate with my second home. There is the sight of the deep red earth on the sides of the road onto which are scattered brightly colored bits of laundry to dry in the sun, the sound of children calling greetings to you as you pass by, and the smell of meat brochettes being grilled at roadside snack bars. These images warm my heart and temporarily take my mind off of the field work that lays ahead. You see, I always get a bit nervous before I return to the field site where I work, because I never know what I am going to find! Will my research team be healthy? Does our equipment still work? Have any new baby sifakas been born? I knew that I would have the answers to these questions (and many more) once I arrived at my research site. However, that is easier said than done, because between ‘Tana and Ranomafana lie about 250km of the most windy and bumpy roads that one could imagine! Thankfully, though they aren’t both windy and bumpy at the same time (the first 200km are windy, while the last 50km are bumpy). The drive takes about 10 hours to complete, during which time you are transported from the large, busy capitol of ‘Tana, to the dense, mountainous rainforest. Along the way, there is plenty to look at. There are farms and small villages, bright green rice paddies, beautiful rock outcrops and rolling hills all around you. Objectively, the view is breathtaking. However, as a biologist, I also know that there is more to the story. I know that less than 1,500 years ago the rolling hills were covered with forest and lemurs weighing more than female gorillas roamed freely! However, over the years, climate change (both natural and human induced) and human activities (e.g., slash and burn agriculture, hunting, and grazing) have taken their toll; drying the land and washing away the soil’s nutrients. Today, the giant lemurs are extinct and the native forest is gone. The only large trees that you see are species of pine and eucalyptus, very useful for making charcoal and building furniture, but as they are not native to Madagascar, they provide few resources for the island’s animal species.

However, just when I think that I can’t spend one more minute watching the naked hillside roll by, the car takes a sharp left turn off of the main road and our car is suddenly engulfed by the rainforest. Even though I have made this trip dozens of times and know what to expect, the transition always catches me by surprise! Suddenly, the air feels heavier, sounds seem muffled, and the air smells rich and alive. While on this road (the bumpy one), I keep my flashlight out and try to spot one of the region’s nocturnal lemurs as it wakes up and begins to forage in the dim light of dusk. Although I don’t have any luck on this trip, I know that my luck may be better next time…for we are now inside the boundaries of the Park and, with a little luck and a lot of hard work, this forest is here to stay.