I bet you’ve been wondering about our digs here in the jungle.  I know you picture safari tents, perhaps lanterns lighting our nightly cocktail as we look out over the lake (or perhaps you actually picture the Serengeti, lions roaring in the distance).  Or perhaps you see a thatched hut surrounded by jungle, monkeys swinging above our heads, softly calling to one another in an effort to be polite.  Romantic notions these.  Not quite accurate though.

 

We really live in more of a village of cinderblock.  It’s not all exactly ugly cinderblock (though some of it is), but there’s a fair amount of it and it sits in a pleasant little line that stretches (I would guess) about ¼ of a mile.  The houses on the ends of the stretch enjoy a bit more seclusion, a bit more exotic forest dreaming, and we researchers (quite luckily) live on the south end of camp.

 

But let’s have a little tour.  This is the office:

This is where we do all our internetting and blogging and testing of poop samples.  The office sits calmly beside the guest house and its roof makes an excellent race track for juvenile baboons.  They also enjoy climbing on the nearby solar panel and hanging off the balcony of the guest house to peek into people’s rooms.

 

Walking from the office, you cross this bridge:

The bridge is incredibly sturdy and keeps us from having to navigate the Kikombe stream when we wander too and fro throughout camp.  Continuing south we pass through the staff area:

These buildings house all the chimpanzee and baboon field assistants and various members of their family.  Tucked in one building is a nifty little cooler where sodas are kept that are available for purchase.  Sometimes the even have Tangawizi (the amazing Tanzanian ginger beer).  It’s amazing.  Next we have the TANAPA houses:

TANAPA stands for Tanzania National Parks, and these buildings house park officials and staff.  They’re a bit swankier than the staff headquarters and often blast loud music with a fanciful beat.  Finally we come to our own little bridge:

which leads to the Minnesota house.  I have only seen water flow under this bridge once.  Mostly it’s just rotting and vaguely adorable.  The Minnesota house is where most of the researcher’s stay:

The house is also mostly cement (including the floor), but is surprisingly cozy and really rather nice for a research home (far better than I ever expected).  It is cut into two sides with two bedrooms and a sitting room apiece.  This is our side:

The door at the back left leads into my room.  It’s a bit of a hovel since very little daylight manages to sneak in the back window (the house abuts a cement wall and lots of foliage) and only recently has my mosquito net stopped reeking of mold (for some reason the left side smelled worse then the right, so I passed the first week here sleeping on my right side or suffocating myself with my pillow).

 

And finally we have our view from the beach, an amalgam of beautiful sunsets and sweeping vistas of the Congo (that is, until dry season sets in properly and the Congo slips away into the haze for a few months):