Issue #10

In the cool, flowing mists of night, I lay still, soothed by chirping crickets and the baritone voice of a toad. Then, like the sting of an angry wasp, the beep - beep - beep of an alarm clock assaults the 3am peace of my Costa Rican night. My head is swimming from 36 hours of non-stop travel to San Jose to meet our group of high school students arriving from western Massachusetts. This is a very exciting trip for me due to the fact that this is the first group of students and volunteers to come to the newly established Aula Global rain forest reserve. To add to the excitement, two of the adults on this trip are alumnae of our very first Costa Rica trip over a decade ago. Meagan Mazzarino (now a science teacher) pops into view from a throng of people, beaming as usual. Phil Miner, our other alumnae, plows through the masses with a towering back pack, perfectly packed and ready to hit the jungles. Behind him, squeezing through the crushing airport crowds, filter a hodgepodge of high school students who have come to help lay the corner posts and foundation of our rain forest research station.

The alarm is now picking up it's pace and frantically slides into a rapid fire staccato that shatters the stillness within me. In all my years of guiding trips, I cannot recall a time when I was actually awakened by an alarm, I always seem to be just ahead of the clock, already working through the day in my mind. 18 years ago I quit punching the clock at a factory and made a promise to myself that I would never again require an alarm clock in my life. To me they are a guaranteed way to start off the day with a sense of urgency, redundancy and that sinking feeling of being a hamster running in an ever faster wheel.

On this particular morning we cannot afford to risk a late start. As it is, before the beeping starts I am awake for quite sometime and pleased that I can kill the scolding sound before it can finish it's scheduled burst of frantic monkey noise. In all honesty, I spend more time in my mind working through the task of getting the group up, breakfast served and everyone on the over crowded bus than it takes to actually accomplish the pre-dawn tasks.
The first few days with any new group is always enlightening. We could have a tight, highly motivated group, or a dawdling group that requires serious prodding to get anywhere on time. The fact that we are out the door with tons of gear and already in the city by 6 am to get our bus assured me that we will be just fine. These students impress me already. This is a good sign.

The town nearest our reserve is a six hour ride on a teeth rattling, bone jarring bus that bangs along on a dusty, curving, mountainous road. The bad side of this torture ride road coin is quite literally the side you sit on. Your back side! It is really rough on a traveler's rearend! The flip side is that the torturous road does keep the tourist traffic down. Though many locals would like to see the road paved, the latest vote was in favor of leaving it as it is.

One by one the kids begin to fade. The heads straining to take in all the exotic scenery are beginning to list and sway. With each tight corner we negotiate, heads flop one side to the other. Occasionally one thumps against a window or onto a neighbors shoulder.

By 1pm we reached the small hill town of Santa Elena and disembark. At last we are in the mountains and out of the stifling heat of the lowlands. The rainy season has not started yet, leaving most of the plains are parched brown and lifeless.

Like so many trips, we spend a lot of energy rushing around getting things arranged, only to find we wait for hours afterwards. I had to walk into town to pre-arrange a truck to transport us and all the tools, camping gear and food to the trail head that leads to the Aula Global Reserve. The driver says he will be there by 10am. By 9:30 we have rousted the gang, stacked the gear by the road and were ready and waiting. It is now 2pm and still no truck! Slowly the group slouches like melting snowmen, slipping lower and lower onto rucksacks and boxes strew along the side of the road. OK. Plan B!

Luis Saenz, one of our Costa Rican volunteers goes into action. He heads into town and minutes later comes back and announces the transport is on it's way. Being a "local," he is a great asset to us in Santa Elena. Soft spoken and polite, Don Luis is well respected by people from all layers of society. One moment he is greeted by a world renowned researcher, the next he is clasping the hand of a farmer or Red Cross volunteer. He finds something good in all people and he takes his volunteering very seriously.

At last our transport vehicles are here. Taking on the appearance of a bus in India, one vehicle is stacked to the heavens with food, packs, tents, and tools. The Rover, already straining under the weight of fifteen cement foundation posts, looks like a ship that has run a ground. The posts, weighing in at nearly two hundred pounds each, put the Rover's 25 year old leaf springs to the test. I estimate the rust bucket is saddled down with nearly 2 tons of supplies. Each time a bag is tossed onto the roof I hear a vehicular groan. THIS is going to be an interesting day.

Stacking all the students into a mini van, we begin crawling along at a snail's pace. Ahead of us, the Rover creaks and rattles over the bumpy road. The final 2 kms of access road to the trail head is a steep, slippery affair. Suspecting a dangerous ride, the driver of the mini van stops short and pile out and start hiking along the slippery clay road. Fording streams and skating down slick hairpin turns, we finally arrive at the end of the road. Minutes later, by some miracle, the complaining Rover pulls up and we slowly unload. I guess there is a reason most NGOs in Africa use Rovers!

Being hours behind schedule we waste no time getting the group reconnected with their packs and start the 40 minute trek to the reserve. I have been warned that there is a tree or two down across the trail that will need to be cut and moved before we can begin the task of hauling in the cement posts. In my back pack is a chain saw for just this purpose. Knowing what kind of trees are here and how incredibly hard they are, there is no way we can cut them with an ax or machete. It is either the chain saw or we make a major detour. Given the wildly steep and precipitous nature of the land, detours are not always practical.

The first tree to cut is only two feet across and is easy enough to clear away. The second one however... is enormous! Totally wrapped in the clutches of a strangler fig, the tree has an additional two to three feet of exterior diameter. After cutting and clearing away the fig (most likely the cause of death of the host tree) I am still faced with another six feet of trunk. It takes some creative work to get through this one.

Just as I am finishing up, a few boys and girls appear to help me roll the massive section clear of the trail. With a couple of grunts and groans we get it moving. We intend for it to only go a few feet, but like an out of control train it takes off down the trail. The sheer weight of it allows it to gain enough momentum to surmount an embankment and plummet over the edge of a 1/4 mile drop. Crashing and tumbling its way to the river below, it makes a terrible noise. We all look at each other in amazement and disbelief. I know that trees tear through the forest all the time in their descent to the forest floor, but I could not help feeling a pang of guilt. I never intended for it to cause such a disturbance. Seconds later the jungle was back to it's peaceful self.

Emerging from the thick forest into the clearing that will house our research station, I notice at once the distinct call of a resplendent Quetzal. Words can never describe the Quetzal's beauty and elegance. They are sought after by bird watchers who come from all over the world, hoping to get a glimpse of this rare bird. We are so lucky to have several right here. A smile breaks out inside me when a male quetzal appears, fluttering it's wings frantically to keep its two and a half foot long tail aloft. I scan across our open meadows to the old growth forests beyond in search of howler monkeys but I do not see them. Moments later, as I climb the final hill to meet the group, a chorus of booming growls confirms my suspicions.

In the distance I see students racing the impending darkness to set up tents. Tyler Deyo and Phil Minor are erecting a huge tent that some of us will call home. Off in another corner of the sloping field, a half dozen others wrestle their tent into shape.

It is now the middle of the night I and am awake.. Wide awake. I sniff the air and get a scent of something vaguely familiar. It's defiantly a large mammal. At first I think it may be peccary or monkey but it is too faint to know for sure. I lay back down and begin to drift off. I am nearly asleep when my nostrils are assaulted by the pungent, unmistakable smell of none other than a Jaguar. Only 100 feet from our tent there is a game trail that skirts the field and drops down to the stream far below. It is there along the path that the elusive cat has decided to mark it's territory with a quick spray of urine. I am ecstatic. Supposedly the last jaguar in the area was killed over five years ago by hunters and their dogs. This is one bit of information we will keep from our neighbors.

After a night of sporadic sleep we call all hands on deck for work detail. Our goal is to carry all 15 cement foundation posts a mile or so through the jungle to the building sight. We figure it will take two days. Yeah right! We fall a little short of our goal. And not due to any slackers. We all work HARD! After three grueling days we have four posts on site. This is definitely a reality check. Carrying 200 pound posts on narrow game trails, through knee deep mud, we slip and slide our way towards the site. Several hours go by before we get one post to it's final destination. At this rate it will take weeks!

It is hard work but it is fun too. Six people waddle their way along the muddy path until they begin to tire. The group decides to set a post down for rest. A bit out of control it drops full force into a nice wet cow pie. There is a thud, then comes a splat which is followed by moans and groans as we look around to see who was in a direct line of fire.

After each full day of working and wallowing in the mud, we gather in a small shed that has become our communal shelter. With proper positioning, one can actually avoid getting wet beneath the leaking roof, slipping through the cracks in the wall and the getting sucked down the seriously sagging floor boards. Build 30 years ago as a simple shepherds hut, it is nothing to brag about. With it ringing with laughter it has become quite cozy and fun as we all gather each night to await our hot meal. During dinner Luis offers up an early morning expedition into the virgin old growth forests found on the Aula Global property. With no TV, music or video games, free time takes on new meaning. It is great to see these students getting to know each other, the environment and themselves. I wish they could stay a month. Though we have come up short in completing phase one of the building project, I feel an incredible sense of appreciation and happiness as we exchange hugs and good-byes. Standing on a rock at the boundary of our property, I watch them bounce down the trail until they are out of sight. I turn to go, and there, beside my wet boot, carved deep in the rock is a petroglyph, a reminder of an ancient time and way. Many thanks go out to the first group of students and volunteers who worked way beyond the call of duty at Aula Global. Angela Grant, Charity Ritscher, Deidre Gleason, Eliza Griffith, Israel Mendez, Joey Niedbala, Josie Beavers, Luis Saenz, Meagan Mazzarino, Michelle Holmburg, Phil Miner, Seth Mansur, Susan Cutting and Tyler Deyo.

$500 GCR Scholarship Awarded to Self Taught Butterfly Enthusiast

The Global Classroom strives to support projects and individuals both abroad and at home. When we are able to cover both bases at the same time it is a doubly rewarding. As you know, we apply 100% of all donations directly to the Global Classroom project. Because we do not use donations to cover over head expenses we must be creative in our methods of fund raising and community outreach. Last September we decided to brave four days of chaos and glitz at the Franklin County Fair in Greenfield Massachusetts. We set up a Global Classroom booth among cotton candy, flashing neon lights and amusement rides. I wondered if it was going to be a waste of time.

We loaded up our booth with treasures we have collected on past trips. It was great! kids and adults were thrilled to handle the ancient arrowheads, artifacts, skulls, minerals, photos etc. We made a sign saying "please touch" and kids jumped at the opportunity to handle baboon skulls, snake skins and crystals. Many times, a parent's first reaction was to get a little testy and say "don't touch, can't you read the sign," only to shrink a little when their kid reproaches them and points to what the sign really says. It is certainly not the parent's fault. We are so conditioned to only look and not touch. At the Global Classroom, we believe that to just look at something is such a limited way to learn and understand the world around us. Without fully experiencing things with all our senses, we only get to know a tiny part of something.

One day thirteen year old Noah Richardson came into the booth and looked around a bit. He left, he returned, he left and returned again. Through out the next few days Noah and I had many discussions about biodiversity, the evolution of tropical insects, unique rain forest fauna and other "advanced" topics. It was during this conversation I realized that this boy has a passion for butterflies that goes way beyond a simple fascination. Noah was hooked. I decided I would introduce him to some friends that were working at butterfly conservatory called Magic Wings, that has recently opened in South Deerfield Massachusetts.

Months went by, I did not hear from Noah, but I could not forget about him. When I was a boy, I, too, was fascinated with butterflies. I had a huge collection and did not go anywhere with out a net. I spent hundreds of hours every summer in search of new species. Neighbors called when they had one in their house, teachers donated books for me to study. I, too, was hooked.

During one of our fund-raisers we received a package from a supporter of the GCR. Inside was a microscope, a pair of old binoculars and two small wooden boxes. Upon opening the boxes, I found it to contain several dozen species of butterfly. These specimens had been collected from all around the world over the last 75 years by both her great grandfather and grandfather. Though I recognized some of the brilliant specimens, there were many I did not. I decided to send the box and a technical research guide of tropical butterflies to Noah with a note stating that if he was successful in identifying every single species he would be given a $500 Global Classroom scholarship.

It was opening day at the fair, a year had past and the gates had been open for just a few minutes. I was not even finished setting up my booth when Noah appeared with box in hand. I opened the box and sure enough, every single specimen had been labeled. Some were in Latin, some in English. I knew I did not have to hand check every single one to see if they were correct. Noah is too excited, to motivated and too serious to have mislabeled any of them.

I asked Noah if he had ever called my friends at the Conservatory for a tour. He looked up at me, grinning ear to ear and proudly mentioned that he works there now. He also informed me that he is now studying (on his own free time) the genetic identification of butterflies through DNA analysis. Last week I went to visit Noah at the conservatory to learn a little more about butterflies. I left an hour later so moved by his passion and knowledge, it was clear to me that he was the right choice for the scholarship.

Entering the observation room we entered a swirling mass of color. I was amazed as the Angelic forms of butterflies from all over the world fluttered about. Some the size of postage stamps- some as large as birds. After my tour we discussed his project in Costa Rica. Using huge nets, Noah will collect, identify and release butterflies found deep in the forests, in the open meadows and along the streams of Aula Global. This data will help assist us in our replanting of Aula Global lands that had been clear-cut. Our goal is to replant damaged areas with flowers and trees beneficial to the species of butterfly found on our reserve. Butterfly counts will be made periodically to monitor the effectiveness of our project.

GCR scholarships are awarded to students who we feel will benefit immensely by a trip to the rain forest. These students exhibit a high level of self motivation, a keen interest in environmental issues and will contribute educational material to the Global Classroom project for future students to learn from and enjoy. If you would like to support Noah with his fund raising to travel to Costa Rica in April you can send a tax deductible donation to the GCR. Foot note your check "butterfly project".