The AmazonIAN people
need us now.
The K67 site, Tapajós National Forest
Left: view out over the forest taken from the top of the 60 m forest-observation tower. Right: selfie from one of the canopy walkways, 20 m off the ground
Hi, I am Marielle Smith, a postdoctoral researcher at Michigan State University, and I will be your guide to the Tapajós National Forest!
Every week, I will share my experiences conducting research in the forest. This week, I would like to take you on a walk into forest, to give you an idea of what it looks like and some of the creatures you might encounter if you were to go there:
The Tapajós forest lies about an hour’s drive south from the city of Santarém in the Brazilian Amazon. It is where I conducted most of my PhD research and I am still involved in a number of collaborative projects.
When I arrived in August 2012 with four other PhD students at the start of a 6 month field campaign, we were all pretty “green” when it came to figuring out how to get things done, working in the forest, and even speaking Portuguese. But those 6 months taught us a lot. Fortunately we had some excellent guides—local field assistants and technicians—who were instrumental in helping us to collect data, making sure we didn’t get lost in the forest or step on snakes, and teaching us about life in this remote region, in the world's largest tropical forest.
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I hope you enjoy this blog and if you are able to, please consider donating to the Amazon Covid Relief fund.
An Introduction to the Tapajós National Forest, Brazil
Marielle Smith, 4 June 2020
K67 site, Tapajós National Forest​ Left: View out over the forest canopy. Right: looking up at the crown of an emergent canopy tree.
This week, I thought I should give you more of an insight into the research that my collaborators and I are doing in the Tapajós National Forest, in the Brazilian Amazon. This short video explains the main tools that we use to understand how the forest is responding to climate change—specifically, increased temperatures and droughts. Much of this research has been going on at this site for almost 20 years, making it one of the longest studied in the Amazon.
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Video: How we are studying the response of Amazon forests to climate change
This is work that I am currently participating in as part of Scott Stark’s lab at Michigan State University, with collaborators elsewhere in the US and in Brazil.
Local field assistants are critical members of field campaigns Left: tree climbing to make measurements high up in the forest canopy. Right: survey of fallen wood on the forest floor.
Unfortunately, due to the current coronavirus crisis, research activities have been put on hold. Obviously, this has a big impact on the science that we are able to do. But more importantly, I worry about the impact of Covid-19 on the families of local field assistants, or “mateiros” who work with researchers every field season. Employment as scientific assistants can make up a considerable portion of their annual income, and this year the field season is effectively cancelled. They have done so much to help us with our research to understand the future of the Amazon and global climate, and have taught us a different way of knowing and being in the forest. Please help us to provide the people who live next to the Tapajós National forest, and elsewhere in the Amazon, with the resources they so badly need at this time, by donating to the Amazon Covid Relief fund.
Boa constrictor in the leaf litter. A reminder to always stay alert when working in the forest!
Marielle Smith, 13 June 2020
How is the Amazon responding to climate change?
The ‘mateiros’ (local field assistants) find it extremely amusing when it becomes apparent that I have no idea where we are. Getting lost is one of the biggest safety concerns for visitors to the rainforest. It can happen unnervingly quickly. One moment, you’re walking along, convinced you’re on the right path to finding that tree you measured yesterday; the next moment, you realise with a rising sense of dread that nothing around you is at all familiar. Even if you aren’t lost, finding a specific tree can be a challenging and frustrating task. Not so for the mateiros who work with myself and other researchers making ecological measurements in the forest. Many of them have lived next to the Tapajós National Forest all their lives and know it intimately. To my amazement, they have been able to take me back to the exact decaying log I needed to remeasure, without the need for a GPS unit or even compass. They have a personal knowledge of and relationship with the forest that goes far beyond the rather superficial experience I have gained after short field campaigns. It’s true that we look at the forest in different ways, but researchers like myself greatly benefit from local people’s deep knowledge and experience of the forest.
The people who live next to the Tapajós National Forest have helped myself and my colleagues so much with our research. These communities are some of the hardest hit by the pandemic, but lack key resources important in preventing the spread of the virus. We now have the opportunity to help them through the current Covid-19 crisis by donating to the Amazon Covid Relief fund; please consider donating what you can. Thank you for your support!
It's easy to follow a well marked trail in the forest, but veer off it and you can quickly lose your bearings
Getting lost (and found) in the rainforest
Marielle Smith, 21 June 2020
Marielle Smith, 30 June 2020
Edited diary excerpts from 11th December 2012 (6 days before my birthday).
I must be one of the luckiest people alive - I just saw uma onça! ONÇA ONÇA ONÇA! It's the most amazing sighting I've ever had—to see a live jaguar, happily strolling through the Amazon rainforest!
The way the local people talk about jaguars, and the language itself, help to give the creature a mythical, spirit-like persona. The name "onça", the way it is whispered, and that Portuguese assigns words a gender—feminine in this case—help to personify the infamous onça. "Onde foi ela?" (Where was she?)
We don't see big creatures very often in the forest. Most of the time, we just see signs of their presence. One time, having descended the walk-up tower, I was shocked to see a severed hand of some sort of small mammal lying at the base, which had definitely not been there before I went up. It was a sign that something big had just come through.
I've learnt a lot about the forest from the local field assistants who work with us on ecological research projects. I love hearing their stories of jaguar encounters, or the paca that ended up falling into the 10 meter deep pit we use to measure soil moisture (apparently, to escape a jaguar…). It gives me a much deeper understanding and appreciation of the forest than I would get from just my own short visits.
"Did you get a photo?" the guard asked me at the gate to the forest. No, and to be honest, I think this is best. Better that I didn't see her through a view finder, and better that her image is in my head, free to roam and morph, rather than stripping her mystery away in a photo or film that allows no room for imagination.
COVID-19 poses great risks to Amazonian communities, some of whom work with us. Please consider donating to the Amazon Covid Relief fund to help slow the spread of the virus in communities like the one next to the Tapajós National Forest. Let’s make sure that these communities, and their valuable knowledge and stories of the forest are not lost.
The closest I have ever come to a tapir! We rarely see large mammals in the forest, so signs of their presence are treasured. (Note, this was taken in a forest near Manaus, not in the Tapajós.)