Aside from everyone working diligently on their research projects, we've done some cool things in our classes, including dissecting a ton of lionfish, snorkeling to observe the behavior of surgeonfish, underwater videography (pic below), learning Papiamentu (I'm practically fluent), and taking field trips to the villages/cities of the north (pics below). It's been a really great past two weeks. Be forewarned, it's gonna be a long post.
Let's delve more into detail for some of these events, shall we? Firstly, underwater videography. You might be wondering, what is that? Well, it's when you bring a camera in this giant housing down with you when you dive and you essentially video tape the benthic environment (i.e. corals, sand, rubble, etc). What is challenging about this particular skill is that you need to move rather slowly and remain relatively close to the substrate without touching it. After we get the videos, we go back to the lab, take still-frames and then analyze points on those frames to see if they have different algae and coral species in order to categorize the benthos.
Just doin' some underwater videography.
With my dive buddy, Abbey. We're about to characterize the benthos using a method different from underwater videography. This one involves measuring the height of coral heads, looking for invertebrates, and determining percent algae and coral cover. Check out all that extra gear hanging from us!
In addition to all of the underwater science that has been going on around here, we've really begun to learn about the culture of the island in more detail. The last two Fridays we went on two amazing and informative field trips. Last week we went to a cultural and educational center called Mangazina di Rei, which used to be the place where the slaves on the island got their weekly provisions of sorghum (a grain). To this day, Bonaire still uses its salt pans to harvest salt from the ocean water. Back in the day, slaves would work at the salt pans in the south during the week and then hike about 26 miles back to their homes in the north on the weekend, get their provisions, and then make the hike back down to the salt pans.
At Mangazina di Rei, we tasted fresh lime/lemon juice, had pumpkin pancakes made above hot volcanic rocks, played traditional instruments to the Bonairean Harvest Song (our fave song), and even learned how to make cactus fences. It was a great experience to learn more about the island's history and to see how the buildings were made (they use chalk made from the corals as a kind of plaster for the walls).
Now, let me tell you what the Harvest Song is. So we learned it when we went to Kunuku Arawak our first week on the island and have seized every moment to dance to it since. The song's title is something like, "Rei my lo" - which means "King of the sorghum." The sorghum was considered the most valuable crop on the island back in the day (and even today), so the Bonaireans would sing to the King to ensure a bountiful harvest. There is a dance accompanied to the song, that involves two parallel lines of people standing arm-in-arm, facing each other. You take about eight steps forward, and about eight steps backward, all to the lyrics of the song. It's not a very complex dance, but it brings people together. The more people involved, the more lines develop behind the first two initial ones. I hope you understand how this goes... Anyway, we all love dancing to it because we truly feel a part of the culture here when we are dancing and singing with the Bonaireans.
This past Friday night we went on another field trip, only to Rincon, one of the oldest still-populated parts of the island. It was once the place where the slaves lived and is now a place where family members are neighbors and everyone knows each other. We had a walking tour of the city, led by two local women whose stories were insightful and whose spirits were contageous. They provided us with anecdoes about the area and about their lives. For instance, they said that they used to have to carry wood on their heads for their fires and that they used the pods from divi trees for glue and for making leather.
On our tour, we sampled a local liqueur made from cactus, limes, and sorghum at the Bonaire-based distillery, went across the street to have homemade cookies from a woman who runs a cookie business from her house, were hooted and hollered at by the locals (an everyday occurrance, actually), and then were treated to a delicious dinner of goat, rice, and plantains at a family's house. Let me just tell you, I have never felt more at home than I did that night. When we arrived at the house for dinner, each of us received a personal handshake from one of the hosts, which I found to be most welcoming. The family's friends and relatives came to the house while we were dining, adding to the sense of unity and just overall welcoming atmosphere that was all around us. They were just so darn friendly and happy that I wanted to become friends with them. Unfortunately, many of them (aside from our guides) only spoke Papiamentu, one of the native languages of the island, so communication was difficult.
What was a more universal language, however, was that of dance. After dessert, we had expressed interest in hearing the Harvest Song (our jam, like I said), and so they bumped the jams and we got up and started dancing. I was honored to dance with two of the older Bonairean men (one I think was the man of the house while the other I think was just a neighbor). The movement wasn't too challenging, but was one I knew came from their hearts. I will always remember dancing with them.
Something I found most interesting was that the people of Rincon do not really leave. They are born there, they grow up there, find a mate (haha there's the inner scientist in me), and settle down next to or near their parents. They obviously venture to other parts of the island and see what is there, but do not move away from Rincon. When we were telling our new friends about where we're from and about our Independent Research Projects, everyone was so intently listening to us, hearing our stories, wanting to learn about us. I was so touched at their sincere interest even if they couldn't fully understand us. They were just interested in learning about our foreign ways of life and what brought us to Bonaire.
I had never before really considered what the natives must think of us Americans, and I feel a little guilty for not thinking about that before. Here we are, visiting their homeland for four short months, trying to understand their lifestyles, but then we go back to our lives of luxury and indulgence, with a world of opportunity at our fingertips. The people I met last night love their lives and live with such happiness, they do not need to go galavanting around the world to find it. However thankful I am to have the opportunity to travel, I know that I am a lot like the people of Rincon, always tied to my homeland, and my family. It is comforting to know that no matter where you go in the world, the people are the same; they love their families, their friends, and their traditions.
Anyway, another fun thing that happened this week was a dive we went on to find spawning Blue Tangs. They form these aggregations, where tons gather in one place, and then a male and female swim up the water column, release their gametes, then swim back down. We didn't end up seeing any of the Blue Tangs spawn, however (kinda disappointed, not gonna lie), but what made the dive fun was that while we were looking for the fish we were just suspended in the middle of a blue, blue sea. We couldn't see the bottom, and were about 50-60 feet deep, just floating weightless. While we were waiting for the fishies, we were doing flips, taking pictures, and just reclining, enjoying the weightlessness that we were experiencing. It was the most sublime feeling ever.
This dive made me realize that diving is the closest thing to flying. When you're suspended in the water column, with perfect buoyancy, you are weightless and then have the power to glide anywhere: up, down, left, right, and diagonally. It's really unlike anything you can experience while on land due to the restraints of gravity. What I love even more is being able to swim through a school of Brown Chromis or staring down a French Angelfish. I just feel so close to the marine life when diving, it's a most incredible feeling.
At Mangazina di Rei, we tasted fresh lime/lemon juice, had pumpkin pancakes made above hot volcanic rocks, played traditional instruments to the Bonairean Harvest Song (our fave song), and even learned how to make cactus fences. It was a great experience to learn more about the island's history and to see how the buildings were made (they use chalk made from the corals as a kind of plaster for the walls).
Making the pumpkin pancakes.
Learning how to make a fence out of cacti.
Now, let me tell you what the Harvest Song is. So we learned it when we went to Kunuku Arawak our first week on the island and have seized every moment to dance to it since. The song's title is something like, "Rei my lo" - which means "King of the sorghum." The sorghum was considered the most valuable crop on the island back in the day (and even today), so the Bonaireans would sing to the King to ensure a bountiful harvest. There is a dance accompanied to the song, that involves two parallel lines of people standing arm-in-arm, facing each other. You take about eight steps forward, and about eight steps backward, all to the lyrics of the song. It's not a very complex dance, but it brings people together. The more people involved, the more lines develop behind the first two initial ones. I hope you understand how this goes... Anyway, we all love dancing to it because we truly feel a part of the culture here when we are dancing and singing with the Bonaireans.
This past Friday night we went on another field trip, only to Rincon, one of the oldest still-populated parts of the island. It was once the place where the slaves lived and is now a place where family members are neighbors and everyone knows each other. We had a walking tour of the city, led by two local women whose stories were insightful and whose spirits were contageous. They provided us with anecdoes about the area and about their lives. For instance, they said that they used to have to carry wood on their heads for their fires and that they used the pods from divi trees for glue and for making leather.
On our tour, we sampled a local liqueur made from cactus, limes, and sorghum at the Bonaire-based distillery, went across the street to have homemade cookies from a woman who runs a cookie business from her house, were hooted and hollered at by the locals (an everyday occurrance, actually), and then were treated to a delicious dinner of goat, rice, and plantains at a family's house. Let me just tell you, I have never felt more at home than I did that night. When we arrived at the house for dinner, each of us received a personal handshake from one of the hosts, which I found to be most welcoming. The family's friends and relatives came to the house while we were dining, adding to the sense of unity and just overall welcoming atmosphere that was all around us. They were just so darn friendly and happy that I wanted to become friends with them. Unfortunately, many of them (aside from our guides) only spoke Papiamentu, one of the native languages of the island, so communication was difficult.
What was a more universal language, however, was that of dance. After dessert, we had expressed interest in hearing the Harvest Song (our jam, like I said), and so they bumped the jams and we got up and started dancing. I was honored to dance with two of the older Bonairean men (one I think was the man of the house while the other I think was just a neighbor). The movement wasn't too challenging, but was one I knew came from their hearts. I will always remember dancing with them.
The bottle on the right is Cadushy, the liqueur made from Bonaire's cacti, limes, and sorghum. The rest are from the other Antillean islands, such as Aruba and Saba.
Our guide, Maria, demonstrating how she would carry bundles of wood on her head as a child.
They call this the "Love Tree," because of the little seat made from the branch. How romantic!
It's a divi divi tree, which grows westward due to the trade winds.
The gang.
Something I found most interesting was that the people of Rincon do not really leave. They are born there, they grow up there, find a mate (haha there's the inner scientist in me), and settle down next to or near their parents. They obviously venture to other parts of the island and see what is there, but do not move away from Rincon. When we were telling our new friends about where we're from and about our Independent Research Projects, everyone was so intently listening to us, hearing our stories, wanting to learn about us. I was so touched at their sincere interest even if they couldn't fully understand us. They were just interested in learning about our foreign ways of life and what brought us to Bonaire.
I had never before really considered what the natives must think of us Americans, and I feel a little guilty for not thinking about that before. Here we are, visiting their homeland for four short months, trying to understand their lifestyles, but then we go back to our lives of luxury and indulgence, with a world of opportunity at our fingertips. The people I met last night love their lives and live with such happiness, they do not need to go galavanting around the world to find it. However thankful I am to have the opportunity to travel, I know that I am a lot like the people of Rincon, always tied to my homeland, and my family. It is comforting to know that no matter where you go in the world, the people are the same; they love their families, their friends, and their traditions.
Anyway, another fun thing that happened this week was a dive we went on to find spawning Blue Tangs. They form these aggregations, where tons gather in one place, and then a male and female swim up the water column, release their gametes, then swim back down. We didn't end up seeing any of the Blue Tangs spawn, however (kinda disappointed, not gonna lie), but what made the dive fun was that while we were looking for the fish we were just suspended in the middle of a blue, blue sea. We couldn't see the bottom, and were about 50-60 feet deep, just floating weightless. While we were waiting for the fishies, we were doing flips, taking pictures, and just reclining, enjoying the weightlessness that we were experiencing. It was the most sublime feeling ever.
This dive made me realize that diving is the closest thing to flying. When you're suspended in the water column, with perfect buoyancy, you are weightless and then have the power to glide anywhere: up, down, left, right, and diagonally. It's really unlike anything you can experience while on land due to the restraints of gravity. What I love even more is being able to swim through a school of Brown Chromis or staring down a French Angelfish. I just feel so close to the marine life when diving, it's a most incredible feeling.
School of Blue Tangs.
School of Brown Chromis.
French Angelfish.
So yup, I'm loving every moment here, learning so much about the culture, the ocean, and about myself in the process. If you read this entire thing, you are an amazing human being because I think this is the longest post yet. It's time for me to go snorkeling (I'm helping someone with their research, this is serious business around here).
I love you all!
Catalina
The best post yet! Keep them coming, Catalina! We all love you very much and enjoy reading about your adventure.
ReplyDeleteMooMoo