My First Day Flying (Han) Solo....

Thursday was my first day flying solo. It was actually kind of exciting. I’m not sure it should have been, since it wasn’t very different from any other day on the island. Nevertheless, I was kind of into the idea of “flying solo” and what not, so I took to calling myself “Maverick” for the day. (Julia: I’m a maverick! *pew pew pew*) It was pretty uneventful, though, so I’m not sure I warranted the title. Sigh… I did find that I am actually more productive on my own than with a group, when it comes to IDing the monkeys. I think it has something to do with the fact that one person can more easily creep around a monkey than many. On the other hand, the extra hands are seriously helpful for manning the video camera.

Although I was flying solo, Brian shadowed me all morning as a sort of evaluation. He didn’t help or advise in any way. He just followed and noted. Then he gave me advice on baiting technique, tips for protecting the camera, and choosing subjects. By the lunch boat, however, he felt comfortable leaving me to the monkeys by myself and took off. It was his last Cayo visit for this trip. He leaves tomorrow evening from San Juan, and then I am really on my own.

In order to bid Brian farewell, the researchers all went to Jaws restaurant for dinner. Jaws is an interesting establishment. From the outside it looks like a cross between a surf shop and an eatery, a tiki hut and a log cabin. Inside it looks like a run down dance hall with random, drugstore decorations hanging from the ceiling and out of place, chicken-themed needlepoint table runners on the generic, round white plastic tables. In the middle of the restaurant stands an old school juke-box filled entirely with Spanish music and an little known American 70s and 80s tunes. (When we arrived and were the only patrons in the place, they noticeably changed the music to anything with English lyrics = The Beegees.)

The restaurant owner is also an interesting character. He looks like he should have been running a “pasta and other” joint in Hoboken, not a burger and burrito joint in Punta. He is short, potbellied, wears a striped, faded v-neck polo showing off some chest hair and a thick gold chain around his neck and a gold Rolex knock-off. Slacks. Slicked, combed hair. A round scar in the middle of his forehead. Spoke perfect, almost Italian-accented English. I don’t know, I just kept looking at him as he graciously circled the table taking our orders and substitutions, wondering whether he’d known about casting calls for the Sopranos.

Anyway, the company was lively, and good conversations were had by all, I believe. It is interesting how work follows people everywhere, though. I was sitting in the middle of the long rectangular table we’d pieced together, and I kept my ear in all the discussions. I was surprised at how often the island comes up in conversation, how often the monkeys are discussed specifically by ID, and how often life trajectories and futures are pored over. It is understandable, I suppose. We all have this place in common. We spend the bulk of our time on the island with the monkeys. We have this shared ground (literally) and understanding and experience, so it doesn’t shock me so much that we all talk about it with one another. Similarly, when you spend so much time with one group of monkeys or doing focal studies of a handful of individuals all the time, you get to know the different personalities of the monkeys very well. 

Then again, I guess I thought that once people got off the island they’d want to leave the island and the work behind them. I think I am forgetting that for many of these people, the island and this work is their life. I am not there yet, and I don’t see myself getting there anytime soon. After all, most people here are looking to be academics. I am not. (This is a commonality that contributes to their discussions of futures and career trajectories. )I’m not the only one, though.  Nevertheless, I was able to contribute to the conversations, since we have our own set of experiment regulars to remark on.  (Next post, maybe I’ll give you all some monkey personality profiles?)

Anyway, it was enjoyable, despite the fact that it took FOREVER to get our food and the orders weren’t properly executed. Then again, I paid less than $6 for my entire meal, so I think I can handle it.

Ok, I’m going to break this post up a little, since I haven’t posted in a few days and I now have lots to tell and way more to come this weekend and next (FESTIVAL IN PUNTA!).

Much love, and I’ll write another post later today.

B