Just 45 minutes west of Belize City, on the way to our ecolodge, we made a short detour to check out the Community Baboon Sanctuary. Amazingly, there’s great birding at the sanctuary. Call it a warm-up for the bird enthusiast, with some monkeys thrown in.
Thanks to the work of conservationists in Belize, you can still experience the most iconic sound of the jungle, the roar of the black howler monkey. Founded in 1985 by an American primatologist in cooperation with a Belizean landowner, the Community Baboon Sanctuary is succeeding in making Belize one of the howler’s last strongholds in Central America. Incorrectly identified as “baboons” by British loggers in the last century, the name stuck.
Misinformation, just like slash and burn clearing strategies, can take hold amongst poor farmers.
Endangered elsewhere from hunting and loss of habitat, the monkeys now number over 3000 in the sanctuary, and where’s there’s “baboons”, there’s birds.
It’s a big accomplishment therefore to be able to communicate that message effectively at the grassroots level. In 25 years, the Community Baboon Sanctuary has been able to convince over 200 private landowners across 20 square miles to voluntarily manage their properties to protect and improve the howler’s habitat. Some of these local residents, like our guide Robert, have benefited directly from the Sanctuary’s tourist employment opportunities. Many more benefit indirectly through the educational programs. All of this success has been good for the birds too.
Indeed, properly managed forests are essential for birds. Even in late morning, our guide Robert Panting is able to spot more than a dozen different species, and we’re really not even looking. After all, aren’t we here for the monkeys? And during a recent eight month study, Robert tells us that nearly 200 bird species have been identified in the area, including parrots, hummingbirds, limpkins, manakins, and toucans to name a few. The sanctuary is home as well to the big cats, such as jaguars, ocelots, puma, and jaguarundi.
As he walks along, Robert explains the medicinal properties of jungle plants, though he is temporarily distracted by a social flycatcher. He draws our attention to the cohune palm seed, exported by the millions to Britain during WWI for use as filters for gas masks.
Thanks to the work of conservationists in Belize, you can still experience the most iconic sound of the jungle, the roar of the black howler monkey. Founded in 1985 by an American primatologist in cooperation with a Belizean landowner, the Community Baboon Sanctuary is succeeding in making Belize one of the howler’s last strongholds in Central America. Incorrectly identified as “baboons” by British loggers in the last century, the name stuck.
Misinformation, just like slash and burn clearing strategies, can take hold amongst poor farmers.
Endangered elsewhere from hunting and loss of habitat, the monkeys now number over 3000 in the sanctuary, and where’s there’s “baboons”, there’s birds.
Like other countries in Central America, Belize must balance development with the conservation of its tropical rainforests, critical habitat for the howler monkey, not to mention nearly 600 species of birds. Although the country continues to be well forested - the government suggests 45% of its landmass is now protected – concerns about wildlife habitat remain. Pollution, erosion, illegal hunting, and harmful agricultural practices threaten this tiny country. But given the country’s economic dependence on tourism (17% of its GDP in 2006), Belize has much to gain from good stewardship.
It’s a big accomplishment therefore to be able to communicate that message effectively at the grassroots level. In 25 years, the Community Baboon Sanctuary has been able to convince over 200 private landowners across 20 square miles to voluntarily manage their properties to protect and improve the howler’s habitat. Some of these local residents, like our guide Robert, have benefited directly from the Sanctuary’s tourist employment opportunities. Many more benefit indirectly through the educational programs. All of this success has been good for the birds too.
Indeed, properly managed forests are essential for birds. Even in late morning, our guide Robert Panting is able to spot more than a dozen different species, and we’re really not even looking. After all, aren’t we here for the monkeys? And during a recent eight month study, Robert tells us that nearly 200 bird species have been identified in the area, including parrots, hummingbirds, limpkins, manakins, and toucans to name a few. The sanctuary is home as well to the big cats, such as jaguars, ocelots, puma, and jaguarundi.
Robert has worked on the project from its beginning. A licensed guide and passionate birder, Robert leads us into the woods on a well cleared trail, and importantly, covered by overarching trees that act as bridges for the monkeys. A gap in the canopy means that staff will get working on another monkey bridge made out of rope. Tree tops are safest for monkeys since on the ground they can be taken by a dog, or hit by a car. Several monkey bridges have even been constructed across the main road.
What’s happening at the community project is education of the local subsistence farmers. They are learning that leaving certain types of trees, like the fig tree, allows the monkeys to thrive and a monkey reserve provides tourist dollars. They are also encouraged to leave woods standing along river banks, which blocks the loss of good soil from their farm. They are given another model for living other than slash-and-burn farming. Robert says that so much of the forest destruction is happening because people can no longer make a living from nurturing it. Logging industries have collapsed either for want of markets, like when synthetic dyes replaced natural indigo dye from logwood, or from overharvesting, as was the case with mahogany logging.
As he walks along, Robert explains the medicinal properties of jungle plants, though he is temporarily distracted by a social flycatcher. He draws our attention to the cohune palm seed, exported by the millions to Britain during WWI for use as filters for gas masks. By the end of our hour long jungle walk I will be equipped with enough information to find water, should I be isolated by a hurricane, slow my heart rate should I be bitten by the venomous fer-de-lance snake, give myself a non-permanent tattoo just for fun, and suture a gaping wound should I have a bad encounter with a machete. All these medicinal treatments are from a jungle.
Robert clears his throat loudly. Then he breaks out into what sounds like a bronchial spasm and I wonder what tree-bark he will chew to relieve such congestion. Not necessary. Robert is calling the howler monkey in their language. Two babies are following our little troop and Robert is appealing to the adult male who has now turned and is staring at us. We have a great view of the whole monkey family, not to mention a scarlet-rumped tanager, and a second later, a yellow-throated euphonia. I’m left wondering who’s more excited about the sightings; our party in seeing the monkeys, or the monkeys in finding us.
Not only was our stop at the Community Baboon Sanctuary a good warm-up for our serious birding to come at our ecolodge, but as a naturalist, my husband was happy to throw his support behind what this project is doing in the community. And by the by, we saw some monkeys. (by C. Moisse for http://www.maturetraveler.blogspot.com/)
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