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When I reflect on ten years of conservation work, I find that the threats
to primates have not decreased in most habitat countries. The
increasing human population exerts an
ever-increasing demand for natural resources, which destroy the habitats
that prosimians, monkeys and apes need to survive. Hunting is the worst
threat to primates in most countries. More access to guns, more roads cut
deeper into untouched forest, more people hungry for “bushmeat” and
more people willing to pay a premium for it are driving our closest
biological relatives the great apes to extinction as you read this. A new
book by Dale Peterson and Karl Amman entitled Eating Apes (University
of California Press, Berkley CA., 2003) documents the killing of apes, the
people involved, and the failure of conservation groups to publicize and
effectively mitigate this terrible problem. Unfortunately even national
parks and other protected areas are not safe havens for apes. The trees
may be protected but the wildlife and especially the larger primates are
being shot out. I highly recommend this book which conveys the unvarnished
truth about how extinction is going to take place unless more people, more
money and more political will are involved in protecting apes in their
natural environment.

Female gorillas
with infants are targeted by hunters because they get meat and a cute baby
to sell. This “bushmeat” hunting is decimating gorilla, bonobo,
chimpanzee and orangutan populations.
Photo N. Rowe
It is
heartening to see that over the last 10 years the number of proposals PCI
receives has continued to increase. I interpret this as an encouraging
sign that more people want to be directly involved in protecting and
studying primates in their natural habitat. The most noticeable increase
has been the number of people from habitat countries that are applying to
PCI. In part this is due to the internet that has helped speed up
communication. It has allowed people from developing countries to apply
for funding from the United States. We currently have 2 proposals from two
Vietnamese researchers wanting to study the Tonkin snub nosed monkey in
two different forests in Vietnam. Please help us with a generous
contribution so that PCI can fund both important projects and help to save
this critically endangered monkey.
This
is our annual funding request. We won’t bother you with mail every month
like some organizations. We respect our contributors, assume they will
save this request, and give when they can. If you want a reminder, please
let me know.
Notes From the Field
The
following has been excerpted from an informal report that Mitch Irwin, a
Ph.D. student at SUNY Stony Brook, sent to his friends, family and,
kindly, to PCI. I hope it will give you a feeling of the joys,
difficulties, and hard work that fieldwork entails. Mitch received a grant
of $2000.00 from PCI in 2002 for this project entitled, “The ecological
and anthropogenic effects of forest fragmentation on the lemur community
of Tsinioarivo, Eastern Central Madagascar.” He received a renewal grant
of $1,000.00 in 2003.

Map of Madagascar
and Mitch’s study area
March
27, 2003
Hello
everyone,
I'm watching the sunrise over
Tana {short for Antananarivo, which is the capital of Madagascar} after
indulging in the hotel Colbert’s breakfast buffet, where for a mere
36,500 FMG (about USD$ 7) you can eat your fill of croissants, pastries,
yogurt, juice and coffee. After two months of consistently having rice and
beans for breakfast (there is some variety, though - 5 types of bean!) I
was ready for a little indulgence.
February
and March both passed fairly smoothly in the forest and I am happy to
report that the research is on track and all team members are in good
health apart from a few recurring cases of giardia, which have provided
the usual intestinal unrest.
We
collected quite adequate amounts of data on lemur diet, movement, and
behavior and are already starting to detect seasonal changes in the foods
they are eating. We also spent some additional days taking microclimate
measurements (soil moisture, air temperature and humidity) inside and
outside the forest fragments.
One day in February deserves
special mention. Group 1 at Vatateza had slept the previous
day in a part of their forest we had not seen them use before, far to the
southeast of our previous observations. I set out at the usual time (6 am)
to locate the group. In this area, and when we arrived we were a bit
dismayed to see some animals at the very top of a monstrous Voamboana
tree, almost impossible to see clearly. Only when these 2 animals moved
down closer to us after an hour, did we realize that Purple-Green {named
after the color of her collar} was hanging about with an adult male which
was definitely not part of the study group. We discerned this by simple
reasoning: 1) he had no collar, as does the adult male in that group, and
2) the poor guy had only one eye. This development was quite surprising
but we quickly started collecting data. Purple-Green spent the whole day
with this new male until we lost them at 4:30 Although we had seen our
groups split up for a few hours in the past, we had never caught one
consorting with another and I don't think this kind of thing is all that
common in other studies either. Purple-Green is quite a large subadult,
almost fully grown, and if the study group is the group that she was born
into she is looking for an opportunity to transfer into another group in
which she can breed (in the study group, the adult male may well be her
dad).
Our four study groups are all
doing very well and continually tolerant of our haranguing presence.
Although it was the heart of the rainy season (February is almost always
the rainiest month
- 800 mm or more), we got off fairly easy until the last 10 days or so in
March, when we had a constant on-and-off drizzle. I will definitely not
say we're out of trouble yet, though, as cyclones have been known to hit
in April and May.
I
still think it's amazing to see the sifakas at close quarters living their
daily lives, seeing their feeding and their rapid-fire locomotion, which
even now, still causes us to momentarily lose our focal animals (though we
usually relocate them).

Diadem
sifaka, one of Mitch’s study animals
Photo by M. Irwin
One aspect of the project which
has been very rewarding is the continuing training of the local guides.
All five of them have been working very hard keeping lemurs in sight since
the habituation began, but in the last couple of months have made great
strides in learning English. One of my goals for April is to train them in
the collection of data - all can write but are afraid that they can't do
so quickly enough. I am hoping to leave them next December with the
maximum number of marketable skills for working with future researchers in
the area, or perhaps working for the Park Service in ecological monitoring
of the forest.
It is bringing me very mixed
feelings to have finished the first three months of what was intended to
be a 12-month study (first 5 months of 14 if you count the capture and
habituation). Having a quarter of the data collected feels like a lot some
days and such a little on others. I guess when I think about it, it feels
like I'm finally on the scoreboard (i.e. a significant percentage of the
work is done) but I definitely have a long way to go. 9 months is no
insignificant amount of time to have between today and coming home for
good. For example, my very good friend Meg is expecting a baby which will
be 3 months old when I get home,
As usual, I am always thinking of all of you and send you all my best
wishes.
Mitch
3 June 2003
Hello
everyone,
April
and May have gone well in the forest and the data are safely sequestered
in yellow write-in-the-rain books, and the write-in-the-rain books are
safely sequestered in my locked crate
Having Karen {his wife} at the
field site for most of April, needless to say, lifted my spirits and
brought me back to life. We had a lot to catch up on after 4 full months
of being apart. When I met her in Tana, I was a little rough around the
edges, and she was coming straight from New York. She wouldn’t admit it,
but I think I scared her a little with my seemingly endless cravings for
dairy products and ability to eat upwards of 20 cheese sambos at a
sitting. We’d be in the middle of some philosophical discussion, one of
us would say how great it was to be together again, and then I’d see an
ice cream stand and blow it: “sorry to interrupt, but let’s get some
ice cream, it’s already been over an hour since the last one!” She has
been the sole breadwinner in the family, covering not only her own
expenses but also paying the minimum credit card payments for me off in
the forest communing with lemurs.
In
May we were able to do a little more multitasking, such as collecting
behavioral data and GPS data at the same time. I’m actually learning a
lot more ‘interesting’ Malagasy vocabulary though, it turns out the
guides were a little restrained so long as we were a co-ed camp, but have
relaxed a little now that it is all guys.
May was also a month of
rewarded nervousness. Ever since learning that I didn’t get a major
grant I had applied for. I knew my money was going to run well short of
the year’s research I had planned. I put together a last-minute plea for
additional funding from Primate Conservation Inc and Margot Marsh
Biodiversity Foundation. I was nervous about asking but the funding came
through, ulcers have abated and a general happy feeling prevailed at camp.
We would finish what we had started, salaries would be paid in full, and
what the hell, canned sardines all round. We were celebrating!
The lemurs themselves are
preparing for winter, which is no small undertaking at our forest perched
atop Madagascar’s eastern escarpment at 1600 m (5250 feet) altitude. On
a previous trip, I had argued with the guides - they insisted that their
region gets snowfalls, not regularly but once or twice a year. I had
started insisting that they must be mistaken, I was from Canada and knew
snow,
this
was a tropical country after all. However, I quickly started to lose my
nerve when I paused to remember that, whenever I’d entered an argument
like this, foolishly pretending to know more about the place than these
guys who’d lived there all their lives, they’d invariably turned out
to be right. It was not long after the argument that we had our coldest
night on record, low of minus 1.4 centigrade. I emerged from my tent and
saw that the grass was coated in a thick, clingy white frost. The guides
said, “See, see this is the snow we told you about!” We happily
realized that we were both right.
Anyway,
I can’t escape thinking sometimes that it must be tough to be a lemur
out sleeping in a tree on those nights without our -10 degree sleeping
bags and long underwear. If we were to switch places, it would be hard to
predict what would do me in first - exposure, or clumsily tumbling out of
the sleep tree on account of not having grasping feet. It’s amazing,
that these little 20-pound sifakas get through temperatures like that,
acting as if nothing was the matter. And not only do they get through,
they choose just about the coldest month (July) to have their babies.
I
continue to miss you all, the recipients of these sporadic and wandering
emails, and wish you well. Best,
Mitch
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