Going Batty in Portland –Angie H.

As a Peace Corps Environment volunteer in forestry there were many things that Ithought I might do in my two years in Jamaica, bat surveys were not on the list. I have never been a fan of bats; they have a terrible reputation of biting, sucking blood and living in dirty caves. When I heard of the opportunity to participate in bat surveys withNEPA (National Environment and Planning Agency) I thought it would be a good way to meet more Jamaican professionals and see some more of Portland.

Before my first survey, I had a few conversations with friends back home who warned me of biting, and how most bats carry rabies, and how I should wear rubber bootsbecause there might be so much guano in the caves that you will get swallowed. I hadnever considered any of these things and was having second thoughts, but I had alreadysigned up, so I was going to go at least once.

I got picked up in Buff Bay by the crew from Kingston and we were off to find the first cave. It happened that it was right on the side of the road (no hiking this time). I was prepared for anything- pants, long sleeves, bandana on my head, hiking boots. They were in jeans and tee shirts and flip flops (they did change into tennis shoes). This cavewas small and right on the main road, everyone stopped to see what we were doing,connecting PVC pipes and draping tarps and cloth to make a “bat trap”.

The process of these surveys are to catch the bats and determine species, weight, sex, are they lactating or pregnant, wing span and anything else unusual. As we were setting upI asked “do you get bit a lot?”, Monique answered “Oh yeah when I first started I got bit A LOT” (oh comforting), and then she said “I hope those big ones aren’t in there that biteeverything they see with those big teeth”. I was starting to get second thoughts about this whole bat survey idea.

We then waited… and waited for the sun to go down.

The first bat came, then the second. We rushed across the street to get started. Monique caught one and had it halfway inside a cloth sack and walked at me with the bats littlehead poking out, all teeth! Ahhhh, I turned away, she laughed and said “you’re supposeto be learning”. I was lucky enough to not have to be on the catching crew. I wasordered to go up with the boss lady Andrea and assist in the measurements. My job wasto weigh them. I tied them on this string as they were handed to me in the sacks. Theyall wanted out, their creepy little hands poking out of the bags with their little fingernails.It was really creepy at first, but I got use to it. The bats came in waves, but there werehundreds of bats. At times we had to stop and cut some of the fishing line on the harp(the bat trap) because they were getting tangled.

That first night was terrifying, but I went again and helped with a few more bat surveys.It was a great experience, one of the best I have had here. Working with NEPA wasfantastic and I had the opportunity to overcome a fear that I didn’t even fully understandI had. This just proves that if you allow yourself to get outside of your comfort zone that you can learn a lot and have a great time doing it. That is what Peace Corps is all about.

Moving Large Objects–Raz B.

A couple months or so ago, my closest neighbors up the valley (a delightful couple named Jesse and Josh) had their close of service and returned stateside.

They gave me dibs on their papasan chair and I would have been a fool to not pounce on the opportunity to own such a comfortable piece of furniture.

There was one problem though: how to move a papasan chair from their house to mine? You see, as the john-crow flies, our houses are perhaps two miles apart. The trail is very steep singletrack at the beginning and end, but the bulk of the journey is a pleasant amble on (deeply pocked) doubletrack road. It is maybe an hour walk without a papasan chair strapped to your back. My thinking on this matter slowly became more and more clear.

Taxis do not run between our communities. I could have taken two taxis home, but this would have been expensive, would not have saved any time, and would be vastly less hilarious than simply walking with the chair strapped to my back.

Fortunately i have here in my possession a frame backpack, lots of line, zip ties, and Irish straps. I am also a sailor and if there is one thing that sailors are good at (besides lying, drinking, and swearing) it is coming up with ridiculous hacks that involve tying knots and lashing things together. I was in luck!

The day was sunny and I felt invincible. The time had come to make history, and I was the one to make it.

First I wrapped up the cushion and shoved it in the bag.

Then I attached the base of the papasan chair, and then the bowl on top of the base.

Everything secure, it was time for this kludgy solution to see the light of day.
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I was extremely pleased with myself.
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And thusly I proceeded home.

On the way I had to cross a very narrow pedestrian suspension bridge and this proved a bit of a challenge. I also met a farmer who found my situation so hilariously delightful that he gave me a pineapple. Farther down the road I found a man who was willing to rent me his donkey for the remainder of the journey, but I was perfectly happy with everything on my back. Farther still I met some youth and we took cover from a rainstorm and talked about music. Finally I arrived at my site and my community had a great laugh at my return. Not only did humping the chair two miles between towns save me time and money, but it turned into a moment of cultural integration too! What a splendid day! I even had a comfortable place to sit at the end of my endeavor.