“Wow, this bat has suction cups!” and other field thoughts

Dear SciFund supporters,

           

I just arrived back to Stanford after three weeks in the field in southern Costa Rica. I was down there learning how to catch bats, collect their parasites and get samples for genetic analysis. This is the first step in my project looking at how roosting behavior in different species of bats affects their exposure to disease and in turn the evolution of their immune genes. (Essentially, I want to know the answer to the question “Does roosting with a lot of other bats mean that you will encounter more disease and evolve in response to that?”)

            The field was a great learning experience. We caught over 350 bats in three weeks from tiny 2 inch Myotis (try holding a squirmy thing that doesn’t have a neck!) to Phyllostomus hastatus, a bat that my friend described as “a puppy with wings … that can take your finger off.” (It didn’t.) The most unusual bat?  Thyroptera tricolor, a member of the Thyropteridae or "disc wing bats." Yup, those are suction cups on its wings and ankles -- helps it stick in the rolled up leaves it sits in. Cutest? The mother bat carrying its baby. Here I have a picture of a little Uroderma bilobatum mother who was carrying her baby. She's wearing a collar that will help us identify her in the future and allow us to make predictions about how land use change will affect bat populations. Try flying around with something that’s half as long as you are! Quite the superstars, bats.

           

The bats were fantastic but so were the other wild animals. On a (successful) trip to find a bat cave, we also found the tiny endemic poison dart frog, Oophaga granulifera (shown on my finger for scale). I also ran into other species of frogs, snakes and some birds. Or rather, some birds ran into our nets. Just because you want bats doesn't mean you only ever get bats. One night while processing my field assistant handed me a bag. All he said was "no fear" then added as explanation "un lechuza" which is the Spanish word for owl. Except I didn't know it was "owl" and the closest word I could think of was "lechuga" (lettuce) which left me wondering three things: 1) How did he acquire a head of lettuce in the middle of a coffee field? 2) Why was it in a bag? and 3) Why should I be afraid of it?

            In the coming months I will look at genetics of these bats, identifying parasites and trying to figure out how different roosting behaviors and land uses affect parasite loads. Because of your support I am well on my way to learning something important about how behavior mediates disease and evolution. Thank you.

Regards,

Hannah