The Loosely United Federation of Monkeys Also Known as The South Group

First things first: Jairo, Simeon, and the internet all confirmed that the time is not going to “spring forward” this spring. Apparently daylight savings only happens sporadically in Nicaragua, and this year its not scheduled. This means that by May and June, it will be light out before 5am. Knowing this just about put me over the edge. The past week has left me so exhausted that I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread, and the knowledge that for the duration of my project the precious little sleep I get will steadily dwindle was just about more than I could handle. The monkeys don’t know what time it is; they only know that when it gets light out, they can eat breakfast—which is what I’m here to study.

At any rate, yesterday out in the forest was frustrating to say the least. It started off great—I found Uno and his lady friend and her kid right off the bat. They all had some Capulín (Muntingia calabura) berries for breakfast; then another male appeared on the scene and they all headed up the volcano to a Genízaro tree (the same one that, according to the TT, is less tough). This is where it got confusing. I ended up losing Uno, and in hindsight I realize there were probably two or perhaps even three groups up there. When they separated, I must have followed the wrong group because I had a bad feeling about where I was headed and I didn’t recognize any of the monkeys. There was another massive inter-group encounter, but by this point I wasn’t even sure if the South Group was there anymore. I wandered through the forest looking for them. I went back to the Less Tough Genízaro (where I’d last seen them): not a monkey in sight. So I went back to the Camino, where I thought they might have headed. The North Group, bless their hearts, was there—resting just far enough away from the action to be uninvolved. I also found another weird group that appeared to be coming down the volcano for some Genízaro leaves (again with the Genízaro!). I thought that this weird group had probably been involved in the intergroup encounter, but none of this solved the mystery of where the South Group had gone. Maybe it was all the sun and thorns, but I began to wonder if there really even was a South Group at all. Maybe it was all a figment of my imagination. They could just be a rogue assortment of monkeys that tolerate each other enough to eat Madero Negro leaves when they’re available, and otherwise, they split up and tag along with other groups. Maybe that was why I’d had such trouble figuring out exactly how many monkeys were in the group and why they always seem to be in the same place. The thought was unsettling.

In the midst of this delirium, I spotted a mother and juvenile resting at point U-14—in a big tree where I often find that loosely united federation of monkeys I’d been calling the South Group. There appeared to be no other monkeys around, but I decided to stay with this pair and see what happened. Sure enough, late in the afternoon, a whole group descended from the direction of the Less Tough Genízaro and joined them. So maybe there really is a South Group, and maybe they really had been at that Less Tough Genízaro the whole time afterall. These monkeys will never cease to amaze me. On my way out of the forest, I ran into the North Group. Literally, in fact. They were moving in on the South Group’s turf, and the area they had chosen to cross over didn’t have very many trees, just shrubbery. So—bam—there was Sophie and Spud, about eye-level with me and only about 1 meter away. Sophie went “yip” and scrambled across the gap. I’m not sure what the North Group’s sudden fixation with the South Group’s territory is, but I think it has something to do with those Capulín berries. We’ll have to see how that works out for them. Hopefully it will be enthralling enough to get me out of bed every morning, earlier and earlier.

Thanks for reading, until later then!