Honduras: No Free Rides in Paradise

Laurie Weed's Portfolio Travel Writing Central America Index

March 2006

Mano a Mono: Monkey Love in Guatemala

I’ve been on the move since my last update, hopping from the charming city of Granada, Nicaragua, to the Costa Rican cloud forests, to the white sand beaches of Bocas del Toro, Panama. After tasting my way through the coffee plantations in Boquete and tossing a few pounds of Carnaval confetti in Panama City, I returned to Guatemala to visit Tikal and, in a last minute tangent, volunteer at a wildlife rehabilitation center. There are countless travel-volunteer opportunities available in Central America and I’m hesitant to recommend just one; but, if you’re interested in the conservation of wildlife as well as conservation of your travel budget (and have a reasonable tolerance for dirt and unpleasant smells), you might consider a stint at ARCAS, http://www.arcasguatemala.com.

ARCAS has 3 locations in Guatemala, each with a slightly different focus. The Rescue Center in Peten is the official destination for animals recovered from illegal traffickers in the Mayan Biosphere Reserve. Their mission is to rehabilitate these endangered orphans for release to the wild, and to educate the community about the long-term effects of wildlife trade and forest destruction. In a developing country where literacy is low, 80 percent of the population lives in poverty and a single fledging Macaw can sell for $20,000 US on the black market, ARCAS has their work cut out for them.

The minimum commitment is one week, but many of the (mostly young, female) volunteers stay for a month or longer. The $100 weekly fee covers room, board, and transportation between Flores and ARCAS on their regular supply boat. During my visit, we were a cozy group of eight to eleven people, though the volunteer casa can accommodate up to 32. Volunteer Coordinator Jakob Frost (19, Germany) has been with ARCAS for 5 months now, fulfilling his civil service duty and learning a lot in the process. Although a Guatemalan director/veterinarian oversees wildlife care, Jakob is the go-to guy for most day-to-day needs and questions.

The Peten Center sits on 45 hectares of peaceful lakeside jungle, about a 15-minute boat ride from the tourist center of Flores. Volunteer accommodations are basic (on par with the average Guatemalan youth hostel), with screened rooms, bunk beds, feeble solar power, and cold, nebulous showers. The $100 fee includes three meals a day, but many volunteers supplement the simple (and salty) comedor meals with snacks purchased in Flores. Believe it or not, these modest volunteer fees also help pay for animal care. The budget is supplemented by donations, the occasional grant, and some government assistance.

When animals arrive, they are placed in the Quarantine area where they can be observed closely and treated for any diseases or injuries. Depending on their condition and species (and available space), they could be moved out of Quarantine in as little as three weeks -- or it could take years. The paid staff handles most of the heavy work and takes care of the bigger (and dangerous) wild animals, while volunteers perform basic feeding and cleaning tasks. The daily animal care schedule and other work projects fill up only three to five hours each day, so volunteers have plenty of time to relax, swim in the lake, and explore the area. Loosely organized group activities and campfires are common, and the bi-weekly supply trips to Flores are a big event after you’ve been living in the woods for a while.

Quarantine cages are mostly cramped and primitive, but the animals are well cared for. Upon arrival, I was mildly alarmed by how self-directed this project is, with information passing from one volunteer to the next and Jakob supervising as best he can. Luckily, this job attracts responsible people who genuinely care about the animals and want to help them. The animal population includes everything from wild pigs, deer, big cats, and even the occasional reptile (who steals a live crocodile, I have to wonder?) Exotic birds (Scarlet Macaws, Keel-billed Toucans, and Green Parrots, among others) and Spider Monkeys make up the largest numbers. These species also have the highest success rates in returning to the wild. They are encouraged to form normal social groups, and once that happens, the group is moved to Rehabilitation, a half-wild observation area where they begin to develop normal defensive behavior and start foraging on their own. When a group is finally released to the wild, ARCAS continues to monitor them for a few more months. Occasionally a bird won’t—or can’t—forage for food and has to be returned to the center to try again next year, but according to Jakob, this is a rare occurrence.

Spider Monkeys generally succeed too, although since primates take such a long time to reach adulthood, it can be years before they are ready to leave Quarantine. The most difficult cases are the big cats, a collection currently including 7 tigrillos (Margay's Cats), an ocelet, and a half-grown jaguar. The beautifully patterned tigrillos, about the size of a large housecat when full grown, require smaller habitats and instinctively hunt small prey such as rodents and butterflies, so their prospects are quite good. Sadly, the jaguar will have to go to a zoo. She has been at ARCAS for over a year and even if a wild habitat could be located, she doesn’t know how to hunt or defend herself in the wild. A reputable zoo has agreed to take her as soon as they can build a proper habitat, but for now she waits, bored and lethargic in a cage that she can cross in two bounds.

In addition to general volunteers and young travelers, the ARCAS program attracts students of biology, environmental conservation, and animal medicine and behavior. Participating in this kind of project carries unique opportunities as well as unique risks. As one Canadian volunteer pointed out, “In my country, you can’t even clean cages without a degree…you would never be allowed this close to wild animals.” And they are amazing close up…imagine a jaguar’s plush velvety coat and mesmerizing golden eyes just inches away from your face; a flock of green parrots descending in a Technicolor cloud to eat from the branches you hold in your hands; or baby spider monkeys clutching at your fingers like human infants.

On the other hand (so to speak), you have to sign a liability waiver to work here, and you’re accountable for your own health and safety. While I didn’t object to cleaning bird cages twice a day, shoveling and raking deer pens, carrying rocks, or dumping compost, I opted out of projects that I considered too hazardous—such as climbing around on a rusting roof to remove dead leaves (and live scorpions), or cleaning out the clogged drains in the Quarantine area without protective gloves, masks, and non-leaking boots. There are also obvious risks associated with the animals—one young volunteer was attacked and bitten by an adult monkey a few days before I arrived. She is recovering just fine, and claims the most frightening part of the whole experience was being treated at the substandard health clinic in Flores.

As ARCAS struggles toward the goal of financial self-sufficiency, the volunteer program plays a critical role and, risks and all, the experience is worthwhile. Since the mission is to return the animals to the wild, direct contact with them is usually off limits, although you might luck out if there happen to be very young ones around. During my visit, volunteers were allowed to cuddle and coo over an adorable trio of baby Spider Monkeys, play with a bouncy tigrillo kitten, and bottle-feed an orphaned fawn. These are the wildlife encounters most of us will remember best...and you haven’t really lived in the jungle until you’ve spent a morning with a couple of baby monkeys latched on to your neck, shrieking and covered with poo (that describes all of us.)

Monkey-free at last, I zigzagged home through Guatemala City and San Salvador, landing at SFO early Wednesday morning in a howling rainstorm. So, until the travel bug bites again (probably next fall) you’ll find me in San Francisco, indulging my first-world proclivities for hot baths, Peet’s coffee, and cold drinks with ice.