Over-educated and Underfunded
Weird, wacky and wonderful stories and sketches from biologists in the field.
By Vincent DiringerBiology is a fairly broad section of science encompassing everything from the study of cells to cladistics as well as conservation and astronomy. Such a vast multitude of majors also entails a similarly large and varied array of pathways leading towards them. All Paths Lead to Biology is a series by the Broke Biologists delving into the stories of how biologists have arrived to where they are and what drives them. All while she was growing up, Emilie Priou grew up wanting to work with wildlife, “I had two internships in zoos when I was in high-school, so I always kind of knew what I wanted to do,” While the French national was unsure as to where her interests would take her, she was certain that biology would be her calling card in the future, “I remember seeing a documentary teaser for a woman doing a wildlife show in Brazil and I just thought it was a dream job, you get to travel, educate people about nature and provide them information on how to protect it - and you get paid for it! It really was my dream job.” However, Emilie’s scientific journey was about to be confronted by France’s rigid academic structure. The education system in France is such that you must graduate high-school with a specialty out of Science, Socio-Economics, or Literature - and while the choices are scarce, they are also binding. Once you have graduated with a high-school diploma in one specialty, your tertiary options are confined to that track and are very subtly nudged towards France’s four main career lines: medicine and engineering (Science), business (Socio-Economics), and law (Literature). The apparent focus on medicine coaxed Emilie away from the Science track, opting instead for the Socio-Economic specialty, realizing only after graduation that most doors to a biology degree in France had been inadvertently closed by her decision. “They asked us too early for us to choose a specialization, had they asked a year later I’d have chosen the science track - I was stuck.” Facing a complicated tertiary path and still unsure about what she wanted to do, Emilie decided to take a gap year to help sharpen her focus “Don’t be scared of challenges...It's when you’re out of your comfort zone that you learn the most!” This led to the budding biologist accepting a six-month engagement with Sun Bear Outreach that was split between advocacy and communications in France, and field experiences in Indonesia. The time spent working with this rehabilitation and conservation center for sun bears would serve as her first exposure to the Wildlife conservation sector, and one that left a lasting impression, “It was hard work. I was only eighteen at the time and I learned so much and just grew a lot.” From then on Emilie started looking at options to pursue a wildlife or ecology-related degree in France but after finding very little on offer domestically, shifted her focus overseas, eventually being accepted at Liverpool John Moores University. As an undergraduate student, she found herself yearning for more experience in the field and soon chose to pursue internship positions in Malaysia at the Lang Tengah Turtle Watch as well as CorSeaCare in the Mediterranean. The current pandemic meant that the 21-year old had to finish her Bachelor’s back home in France, but also enabled her to start a new project, “Its called Conservation Journey. I wanted to use my experiences to help people who wanted to study in this field and are a bit lost. I want to inspire, inform, and unite - to have a positive impact on people.” Graduating in 2020 with a Bachelor’s in Wildlife Conservation, the newly accredited biologist is seeking to pursue a Masters in Environmental Law while working on documentary filmmaking and learning about the wildlife trade. “Don’t be scared of challenges. If there is an opportunity you’re scared of but excited about, then that’s the best opportunity you can take. It's when you’re out of your comfort zone that you learn the most!”
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by Vincent DiringerWhat is bright orange, tiny, and carnivorous? A snail of course! Perrottetia dermapyrrhosa was first described in 2013 after it was discovered in the limestone mountains of northern Thailand. Believed to be present in many primary forests across South East Asia, P. dermaphyrrhosa is a relatively uncommon find that this biologist was always excited to see on a rainforest hike. By Vincent DiringerWorking in the field ensures you will have some remarkable encounters and unique experiences. From finding scorpions living in every crevice of our field camp to stumbling upon a newly discovered species of snail or spotting a hard to find endemic lizard, I have some fond wildlife memories. This one, however, was not such a wonderful moment... Its early March in Malaysia. We are being buffeted by the remnants of the monsoon and all the ferry terminals have had to close due to the adverse weather, unceremoniously postponing our plans to travel to our island basecamp with a group of now disappointed high school students. Keen to keep spirits high, the teachers give the students free time for the rest of the afternoon, allowing themselves and the biologists time to figure out the monsoon contingency plan. While between phone calls I start walking around the resort, aimlessly kicking rocks until I notice something out of the corner of my eye. Thirty meters away to my left, there is a thin stick jostling on the ground moving away from me. “Snake!” I yell enthusiastically, hoping to grab the attention of my colleagues, “What kind?” comes the response as I hear frantic footsteps behind me “I don’t know let me get closer, it looks like it could be a juvenile. As I get close enough to start identifying my new reptilian friend I realize that not only have my colleagues rushed over in excitement but so have several students and a biology teacher intrigued by my shrieking. The danger noodle is still slithering away, it is roughly thirty centimeters long, maybe two centimeters wide… jet black… rounded head... it has a noticeable hood… oh dear. Students are starting to congregate as the silky spitting cobra tries to leave as quickly as possible, the biology teacher turns to me, “Uhh... is that… what I think it is?” “Well, yes,” I say, trying to gloss over the fact I’d unwittingly drawn a crowd of pupils under our care to come see one of Asia’s most venomous snakes, “Come on guys lets leave this snake alone, nothing to see here, go back to your rooms, snakes aren’t that interesting anyways, lets leave this little guy alone.” Thankfully the students disperse fairly easily as we remind them that any wildlife they see or find must be treated with respect and that whatever it may be, they should seek us out to report what they encounter. The teacher shares a nervous giggle with the rest of us as we watch the slippery serpent disappear into a storm drain. We alert the resort staff to the presence of a juvenile spitting cobra on the grounds, to which they inform us that they’ve been dealing with several over the past few days, suggesting an adult female has made herself comfortable somewhere near and nested, resulting in a brood of adorable yet dangerous snake babies roaming the area. Feeling both excited and worried about the prospect of multiple tiny cobras staring at us from the shadows we decided to keep a watchful eye for the sneaky reptiles and reminded everyone to only use lit pathways when moving around. The weather would abate and we would leave the next day, making that my first and only encounter with an Equatorial Spitting Cobra (Naja sumatrana). I’ve now learnt to not loudly exclaim what I’ve spotted until I can accurately determine what it is. No students, biologists or snakes were hurt during these events.
By Ariana LoehrThe landscape of Sulawesi is supposed to be as beautiful as it is remote- not that I’d know, as our global stay home notice limits me to the grainy google streetview pictures. While I would have loved to visit this incredible island to provide my time and skills by volunteering at a conservation organization, this is no longer an option for me or any like minded young professionals passionate to pursue wildlife conservation. So what will happen to the organisations that are dependent on foreign volunteers and tourism for funding and assistance? We sat down with the volunteer coordinator for the Tasikoki Wildlife Rescue Center, Sylvia Gan, to find out more about what one organization is doing to stay afloat. Tasikoki Wildlife Rescue Center, located on the island of Sulawesi, Indonesia, is a rehabilitation center for wildlife that was bound for sale in the illegal wildlife trade. The center itself houses sun bears, slow lorises, Sulawesi macaques, tarsiers, cassowaries and many other birds that have all been rescued. In order to handle the large amount of care that these animals need, Tasikoki hosts up to 10 volunteers at a time during the peak season in June to August. Most of these volunteers are European tourists or students on their summer holidays, which they’ve given up to create enrichment food and activities for the animals in captivity. "We don't know how it's going to stress the animals out" During mid-February, Ms. Gan started to notice that there were no more bookings for volunteers, a sight which was fairly unusual for this time of year. Then, seemingly overnight, volunteers, school groups and tourist bookings virtually disappeared due to Covid-19 travel restrictions. Sylvia, a long term volunteer herself, was recommended to return to her home in Singapore as well. While these volunteers prove crucial to the everyday functioning of the conservation organization, her concern lies more deeply with the mental health of the animals in the long term, “if [the covid lockdown] goes on for a long time, like over a year or so, it’s really hard to measure because we don’t know how much it’s going to stress the animals out if they don’t get enough variability in their diets and environment”. More seriously, is the impact that the lack of tourism has on Tasikoki Wildlife Rescue Center whose main source of revenue comes from hosting school trips and tourists who come to see the vast grounds and unique animal inhabitants. “We’re not making money but we still need to pay the keepers, the wildlife still needs to eat every single day.” Sylvia worries, “Those costs don’t decrease”. Currently, many conservation organisations globally are facing similar concerns, with experts on panels for the Ape Alliance and One Stop Borneo debating the use of tourism to fund conservation during virtual events. While many conservationists argue for increased funding from governments, it is unlikely to become the reality in many biodiversity hotspots. Instead, Tasikoki has turned to the age-old tactic of crowdfunding to keep the organization afloat. They’ve raised enough money for wages and food for the animals for the next few months thanks to the strong connections of Tasikoki’s founder, Dr. Willie Smits. For now, Tasikoki is lucky to be able to continue its great work, but who knows how long that money will last or how long this global lockdown will last. Until we’re all free to travel again, many conservation groups will be struggling for lack of staff and funding. One of the greatest lessons that all conservation organizations can take away from this pandemic is that it helps to diversify your funding sources to ensure that your positive impact on nature is sustainable through every crisis. If you’d like to donate to help keep Tasikoki Wildlife Rescue Center around for the long haul, click the button below.
By Vincent DiringerWhat do you do when you’re leading a night walk on a remote island and the only thing you encounter is the common asiatic toad (Duttaphrynus melanostictus)? Easy. You pretend that they’re a rare subspecies found only on the island.
By Vincent DiringerSedili Besar, Malaysia - 2018 What do you do when you are leading an intertidal exploration and come across a bloated, decomposing sea animal on the seashore? In the case of one biologist, the answer was to immediately begin handling it manually, while the others contented themselves with taking pictures and looking for any identifying markers that could help determine the species and its cause of death. The students looked on with a mixture of awe and disgust as four grown adults became increasingly excited at analyzing a dead and very smelly mystery specimen. Deciding to share their discovery with the other biologists on the trip, they shared the pictures and all grouped up to discuss the possibilities (while one was sent to go wash their hands incredibly thoroughly). A consensus was soon formed: the animal was indeed dead, it was a cetacean, possibly a juvenile, and handling a dead animal is gross (dang Sylvia what the hell). Dolphins weren’t a rare sight in the area, but this species’ physical traits were entirely at odds with what we were used to. Some of the marine biologists on staff went back and forth eliminating the obvious candidates: it wasn’t a dugong or a common dolphin, and its physiology wasn’t compatible with that of larger cetaceans. Soon, we were left with two distinct options, the Irrawaddy dolphin (Orcaella brevirostris) or the Indo-Pacific finless porpoise (Neophocaena phocaenoides). Both species are present - yet rare - in the waters off Peninsular Malaysia’s eastern coast. An endangered species, O. brevirostris’ (Irrawaddy dolphin) numbers are low with some ~7,000 individuals worldwide. At the time of writing this post (2020), there is still no accurate estimate of the population in peninsular Malaysia. Listed as vulnerable despite no clear population estimates, N. phocaeniodes (Indo-pacific finless porpoise) has been the subject of taxonomic uncertainty. Being able to correctly identify the remains as either of these species would make it a potentially one-of-a-kind find, but also a slightly depressing one. While opinion was split on the ID, cause of death was a lot simpler to identify, with several deep gouges on the animal’s back indicating a boat strike was most likely to have cut its life short. After several days of deliberation, we were still split on the identity of this mystery creature (#TeamPorpoise) and to settle the debate one of our biologists reached out to a contact at the Lee Kong Chian Natural History Museum in Singapore. Based off of the pictures we provided, the carcass was identified as that of an Irrawaddy dolphin, giving #TeamIrrawaddy a win, although #TeamPorpoise is still not convinced to this day. Fancy throwing your identifying hat in the ring? Have a look at some of our pictures and comment whether you are #TeamPorpoise, #TeamIrrawaddy or start your own if you think we completely botched the ID. References
Bay, K., Braulik, G., & Tuen, A. (2013). Population estimates and distribution patterns of Irrawaddy dolphins (Orcaella brevirostris) and indo-pacific finless porpoises (Neophocaena phocaenoides) in the Kuching Bay, Sarawak. In Raffles Bulletin of Zoology (Vol. 61). Mazlan, A. G., Zaidi, C. C., Wan-Lotfi, W. M., & Othman, H. R. (2005). On the current status of coastal marine biodiversity in Malaysia. In Indian Journal of Marine Sciences (Vol. 34). 2018 carcass pictures from Charles Downing |
About the AuthorsThese stories come from several biologists working in the field around the globe. Archives
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