First days

It would’ve been nice if this was just a lazy Sunday morning. Instead, I am feeling restless. I should be out there mapping, not sitting in the rest house and fiddling with ArcGIS ©, trying to recall old lectures and lab exercises. My back is still killing me. I should’ve been more careful yesterday, then I wouldn’t be sitting here feeling useless.

I was proud of what we accomplished yesterday morning: we mapped out the entire perimeter of the hacienda. My guide, manong Oca, was late in picking me up in the afternoon. It had already started raining on our way to Najalin River. I trekked slowly; water sliding down compacted mud makes for a good sliding down, way down. No thanks. We got to the river. I really wanted to get the edge of the property so I asked my guide if we can river trek to get there.  He was fine with it. Then he started rock-hopping. I was clambering laboriously over huge boulders, careful not to slip. It was raining heavily now. We haven’t really gone far when I stopped. This poncho is a nuisance! I took it off as my guide watches in disbelief, like getting soaked is unheard of in this part of the world. “Day, mabasa ka gid!” [you’re going to get soaking wet!] I said I’d rather get drenched than break a hip. He shrugged. We went on. I would stop every now and then to get geographic coordinates for that area. I didn’t care so much that I was getting soaked to the bones, but I did worry about the GPS. Would thumbing the keys allow water to seep through the equipment? I hope not.

On the trail going back up, I was still mapping but I was already shivering. I was soaked, and the wind wasn’t going to be kind. We hurried home.

That evening, I couldn’t sleep. Our first days on field. I’m excited. My thoughts were punctuated by a symphony: male frogs calling to the females; insects humming; rain falling; leaves rustling; fruit bats fighting over some fruit in a nearby tree; the Tockay gecko calling every now and then. It was almost one in the morning.