It
was that last empanada that did me in. I couldn’t help it really. With my host
brother studying to be a nutritionist, my casa
tica was strictly a health food zone and I hadn’t eaten fried food in
almost a month. As I sat at breakfast, the little junk food devil that sits on
my shoulder whispered in my ear, “When’s the next time you are going to have an
authentic bean empanada? Just go for it. Your stomach can handle one more.”
With my defiant microbiome still
resisting the change from a diet of peanut butter sandwiches and veggie burgers
to a diet of rice and beans, I have been no stranger to indigestion on this
trip. With a swig of Pepto Bismol™ and a short rest, I can usually get myself
back in commission within the hour. The trouble this time was that immediately
after breakfast we were hiking up and out (emphasis on up) of our cozy San
Gerardo field station in the Monteverde Cloud Forest reserve to head back to San
Jose. As soon as we finished scaling the first of what would end up being
several flights of trail steps, I felt that unmistakable twinge in my stomach.
I knew in that moment that this hike was going to be different from all the
others.
My heart sank as I watched myself
fall from 5th in the pack to 12th, dead last. I tried to
use the fear of everyone waiting for me at the top of the mountain to motivate
myself to move faster but my stomach, in a roil, seemed to have control over my
feet. Alone and inching closer to giving up, I saw a figure at the top of one
particularly gnarly hill. My friend Liz, sporting her characteristic pink rain
jacket and Yellowstone hat, was waiting for me. “One step at a time,” she told
me, “Let’s do this together.” She
pointed to a ridge 100m up the trail and we agreed to trudge to that point
before stopping. At each rest we marveled at some trail side curiosity to allow
ourselves to catch our breaths. Ridge by ridge, interesting find by interesting
find, we pulled ourselves up the mountain until finally we were standing next
to the course van ready to take us to San Jose.
As much of a non-sequitur as this
may seem, this hike has me reflecting on the evolution of my thinking about
what it means to do science. Science in popular culture is represented as
individual efforts of concentrated brilliance. In school we learn about the
propelling breakthroughs: Newton and the falling apple, Archimedes and the
bathtub, Alexander Fleming and the fungus. The truth remains, however, that the
vast majority of science is not encapsulated in “aha” moments. It is a slow
trudge up the mountain of what we don’t yet know. It is guided forward by tiny
advances that take monumental effort just as each pained step pulled me up the
trail. In this understanding, I am trading my image of science as a series of
brilliant, individual breakthroughs for the image of Liz and me, muddied and
tired, walking together step by step up the mountain.
No comments:
Post a Comment