Of Leeches and Lemurs: Social Research in and around Anjanaharibe-Sud
By Amie Wuchter, Master’s Student, Montclair State University
Nothing could have prepared me for my first leech encounter.
We had just spent an hour tracking a group of silky sifakas- my first time ever seeing them in person. It was the first sunny day in a while, a welcome reprieve from the previous week spent bundled in my rain gear. From our vantage point, we watched as the family of sifakas leaped from branch to branch and ate their bounty of leaves and fruits. They hung upside down as they groomed one another, each acrobatic stunt rivaling their last. I was enthralled, frozen in place as I watched each of their antics.
That is, until I felt an annoying itch at my neck. Thinking the mosquitos were getting bold, I initially went to swat at the spot when my hand landed on something squishy. I immediately grabbed at whatever was causing the offending sensation and looked in horror as I saw it: a leech, squirming around between my fingers and trying to latch back on.
To my credit, I didn’t scream. Instead, I used all the power I could muster to throw the creature as far away from me as I could. The rest of the day was spent obsessively checking myself for more. And there were more: five more, to be exact.
Joany, a student researcher at Anjanaharibe-Sud Special Reserve (ASSR), laughed when he heard what happened. “It’s the rainforest. Get used to them.”
From the moment I started my master’s degree program in social research and analysis at Montclair State University, I knew that I wanted to connect the skills I was learning to conservation. After hearing about Wildlife Madagascar’s work with the local populations around their research sites, I quickly reached out. I learned about the road that runs through ASSR, originally intended as a national road but now impassible for most vehicles due to poor conditions. Research questions immediately started buzzing through my mind: who is using this road and why? How have road conditions impacted the decisions people make while traveling through the reserve? And what does this mean for conservation decisions? After working with Montclair State’s Dr. Cortni Borgerson and Wildlife Madagascar’s Dr. Tim Eppley to design a survey that would help answer these questions, I was ready to embark on my first-ever field research experience!
On June 29, 2024, I landed in Tana, where I met Aro Andriamanalina, my Malagasy counterpart and a master’s student studying physical anthropology at University of Antananarivo. After some quick introductions and connecting over a shared love of embroidery, we started our journey to ASSR.
Erosion along the road; people transporting goods; the results of our battle with the mud.
Although I had heard stories of the state of the road running through the reserve, experiencing it was nothing like what I had imagined; much of the road has eroded away due to weather and the massive trucks that occasionally drive through. And then there’s the mud. We arrived during the rainy season, after all. Nothing can humble a person quite like nearly losing your rain boot to a mud patch. By the time Aro and I reached Camp Indri, we were exhausted and covered in mud, but ready for our first survey day ahead of us.
At our station along the road, Aro and I quickly fell into a rhythm, learning the stories of countless travelers. Each survey turned into a conversation over cups of ranon’apango, a drink made from burnt rice (and one of the many things I’ll miss when I return home). We talked with men using bicycles to push over 100 kg of rice, beans, and other produce to sell in the towns on the east side of the reserve. We celebrated the new families returning home from the hospital after welcoming their babies into the world. We watched people’s faces light up as they described watching the babakoto (the Malagasy word for indri) leap across the trees along the road. In a few instances, we heard the stories of the folks who come into the reserve to mine for precious stones, a major conservation concern here at ASSR.
In addition to our road surveys, Aro and I also went to Anjiamazava, a village on the western border of ASSR, to collect data for Aro’s research in child development. This was also the perfect opportunity for us to experience the rest of the road that the travelers had described to us; we had only walked a small portion of it to reach Camp Indri.
Between seemingly endless uphill climbs, treacherously slippery mud patches, and a wide river crossing that challenged my balance a few times, the four-hour walk tested my physical and mental limits. I now knew exactly what travelers meant when they used the word ratsy—bad—to describe the road.
Our time spent in Anjiamazava was a gift. Although Aro and I arrived there as researchers, we were quickly welcomed by the community. Between rounds of surveys, we were invited by the children to join in their games of jump rope and hopscotch. It may have been my first time jumping rope in a few years—and my first time ever using a vine to do it—but I managed to keep up. We made sure to fuel up by eating copious amounts of mofo gasy, a type of bread similar to a pancake. After saying veloma to the folks at Anjiamazava, we were ready for our return journey to Camp Indri.
Although much of our time here was spent conducting surveys along the road and in the villages, we knew we needed to make the most of our time at ASSR by exploring the forest and seeing the incredible biodiversity found here. When in Madagascar…
Aro and I were lucky to be at Camp Indri with Joany and some of Wildlife Madagascar’s incredible guides, who led us on hikes to watch the some of the local lemurs. We spotted Camp Indri’s namesake, the black indri unique to this part of Madagascar. And of course, we were lucky to find a group of silky sifakas on the first clear day after a period of rain.
Having picked the sixth leech off me that day, I was asked by the folks here at Camp Indri if, despite the leeches, our journey to see the silky sifakas was worth it. Knowing, deep in my heart, I would allow even more leeches on me if it meant seeing these amazing creatures again, my answer was a resounding yes.