This summer, VolsTeach alumna Kirsten Salonga (’17) ventured back into the wild in search of ways to expand her classroom’s reach through inquiry-based science. In stark contrast to her last excursion to Alaska, Salonga—an ESOL (English to Speakers of Other Languages) Environmental Science & Biology teacher at Justice High School in Falls Church, Virginia—journeyed to the Amazon Rainforest with the Morpho Institute‘s annual Educator Academy.
The Educator Academy in the Amazon Rainforest “provides powerful professional development designed to transform student learning. Immersed in the Peruvian Amazon, teachers learn about this key global ecosystem while building their ability to engage students in scientific research, cross-cultural connections, and community-based conservation initiatives.”
Kirsten agreed to document her Amazonian experience for Accolades readers. Take a peek into her rainforest adventure diary below!
Day 1
Iquitos to Explorama Lodge in the Amazon Rainforest (7/1/25)
As I sat at the airport in Lima, Peru, I realize how lucky I am. One cancelled flight that cascades into connecting flights can be stressful enough, but somehow, I made it here on time.
I landed in Iquitos at 1:30 p.m. battling lack of sleep from a red eye flight. As I walked around the city, I was reminded of what my mom said when she visited me in Colombia: “This looks like the Philippines!” Things can be so different yet so similar in so many ways.
I was also reminded that while it may not be a blessing to have my skin in the U.S. sometimes, I can sink into the background in many places. Locals will automatically speak to me in Spanish. I’ve practiced more walking around Iquitos for 5 hours (including having an ATM swallow my card and being able to somehow maneuver getting it back at the bank with my limited Spanish) than I have for the past 5 years since leaving Colombia. And for that I am grateful.
I am also reminded of my love for markets. Belem is the largest market in Iquitos, and I love love LOVE exploring. I had a great conversation with a lady who made my smoothie about how I am a teacher. She thanked me.
Group introductions were foregone due to varying arrival times, but the few educators I was able to talk to were a good reminder of the words of the Morpho Institute Director, Christa: “bridging the gap between educators and conservation.” Participant backgrounds are so impressive, as some are published authors or heavily involved in their unions. I am both inspired and hopeful in my ability to continue to help.
Day 2
Explorama Lodge (7/2/25)
Twenty minutes into our 1.5-hour speed boat ride, and you can clearly see where the waters of Iquitos meet the direct waters of the Amazon Rainforest: the darkness mixes with an almost light brown haze. We docked at the Explorama Lodge, our first location for the Morpho Institute. I had to remind myself that the backpacking experience that I have is not always necessary to get out in nature, because the conditions (your own bathroom, not sleeping under a mosquito net, internet in general) were far superior to what I had expected. I love hearing about the collaboration between local guides and the Morpho Institute Staff, who have been hosting this program for 13 years. I am grateful for the scholarship I was given, but also for the chance to be away from work and immersed in nature.
When I tried to ask them if they needed help organizing boots, one of the staff members kindly said, “No, go out and explore!” And only 90 seconds later, I immediately saw some small squirrel monkeys swinging through the branches. I quietly stared from afar as I could hear others talking in the distance: how they were unafraid of being so close to humans was baffling, but up in the canopy life seems different. It can become easy to confuse the sound of wind through the trees with the rain.
We were able to go on a small rainforest hike. Although we are only a handful of degrees south of the equator, the effects of the Southern Hemisphere’s winter are evident. With such cool temperatures, I decided to forgo the bug spray to try to reduce the amount of chemicals I’ve been using, and it turned out better than I expected! I felt one mosquito and—contrary to what usually happens—I don’t have any bites!
As I type this, I hear birds outside my mesh window. I am reminded of all the traditional knowledge that is passed through generations: the ficus tree sap rids of intestinal parasites, but those who take it must drink water to flush out both the parasite and the sap due to its potency. They will be fine, but not without 3-4 days of weakness. You can still see the v shape on the tree from a father’s machete from many years before. I also learned that what we may assume are vines (which grow top down) is actually liana, growing from the bottom up.
“If you fall, it is better to grab down than up,” our guide, Percy, said as we observed spikes on the walking palm roots.
After an innumerous amount of mushroom photos (the upturned pink cup of the champagne mushroom being my favorite), it can be overwhelming to think of just how many species we have yet to see. It is easier to gloss over the true nature of things at home, but here, undisturbed, small roles become large: even termites have an important role in accelerating the rate of decomposition on the forest floor. I am constantly reminded to slow down, disconnect, and connect.
Our boat sent calm ripples through the small tributary during our silent night boat ride. Listening to the hundreds of frogs as we passed, finding caiman that passed from a machete blow hours before, watching the fishermen in the pitch black darkness -it was the perfect way to end an unforgettable day!
Day 3
Explorama Lodge (7/3/25)
“KIS-ka-deeee!” I could hear it in the distance. “The Kiskadee bird says its own name,” Nancy, professor of ornithology at Cornell University, said through binoculars during our 6 a.m. birding boat ride.
I finally managed to see what I have always wanted to see: a sloth in real life! It may have felt slightly underwhelming for most (when sleeping, sloths can easily be mistaken for a termite nest), but for me it was exciting to see a sloth in the wild!
One of my favorite parts of this journey so far has been learning about native folklore: if you are pregnant, you must avert your eyes from the sleeping sloth. If you do not, your baby will be pelejo (lazy). The oropendola bird will lay eggs in groups with up to 50 nests, where the sole male will stay awake to guard them and females leave to bring back food. When the male is too old, the females will “kick him out and find a younger man,” our guide Percy told us. “In Iquitos, when a woman works harder than her husband, they say that the man is an oropendola!”
In today’s silent hike, we were given the task of examining the forest floor, the canopy, and close examinations of a 1×1 meter (ish) section. In my observations, I spotted a tarantula hole (larger than my fist!), massive leaf cutter ant colonies (larger than many ‘me’s combined), and [luckily] many stick bugs! Our intro to inquiry-based experimentation pushed me to further pursue my students creating their own experiments, inspired by their own interests rather than solely our content. Even our conversation with the well-known Bug Chicks helped me to change my students’ [and own] perspectives of “eww” to “ceeewl” (cool). Their use of Socio-Emotional Learning makes me realize that while I can connect with students 1:1, I now question why I have not tried to directly teach positive self-talk and empathy for others as a whole class through science. If students can change their minds about arthropods (or in my case, our class snake), then I can help them to change their minds about themselves. How lucky I am to have the opportunity to help.
Day 4
ACTS Field Station (7/4/25)
The Amazon River forks, and we can either turn left (towards Ecuador) or right (towards Colombia). Our boat turned left, and after a 1-mile hike, we arrived at the comparatively more rustic Amazon Conservancy for Tropical Studies (ACTS) Field Station. Explorama owns over 2000 acres of preserved lands, where we can easily see black mantle tamarinds and squirrel monkeys through dancing leaves up above. Many of these mammals—including the jaguar—have returned after targeted conservation efforts to preserve the lands on which we walk. Their efforts do not go unnoticed.
I am constantly trying to think of how to connect this experience to my kids. We focused on migration patterns this year, and upon encountering a line of army ants on our path, our Morpho Institute Director (Christa) informed us that the wood thrush (one of the birds that we have in Virginia) migrates to the Amazon and follows the movement of the army ants. There are ways I can tie this primary upland forest to Virginia.
At sunset, we hiked to a structure resembling a treehouse and climbed into the canopy in what seemed to be an endless web of rope and wood. Respect for the forest is evident in how the canopy walkway was made: only rope knots and rubber were used to hold bridges against trees –no nails! Everything was hand-tied by Victor, one of the guide’s (Cesar’s) father.
As the sun slid under the horizon line of blue trees in the distance, its rays colored the emergent zone in a golden shine. What a way to celebrate my 30th birthday!
Day 5
ACTS Field Station (7/5/25)
Another morning of birding, but now it is sunrise in the canopy walkway. I heard a small scream of the yellow-throated woodpecker and blips of the squirrel monkeys down below. The camucamu jam bird flies in the distance, while the white fronted nunbird sits quietly on the rope of the bridge ahead. The nobocidad (fog) slowly raises. It is easy to see how this is a biodiversity hotspot.
As a group back at ACTS, we discuss how the consistency of temperature and sunlight allows the rainforest to be a “generator of new species:” every day, more species are discovered. In geological time, glaciers rarely touched the equator, allowing for higher diversity, and tropical forests are among the oldest ecosystems in the world. At home, most of our species are generalists, adjusting to a variety of weather changes throughout the year; here, there are more specific relationships between species that are as highly dependent on one another as they are on the climate. After an introduction to field-based inquiry, we are reminded that this is the time to practice indeterminacy: our opportunity to be comfortable in the reality that the start of science includes descriptions and comparisons rather than correlations. I am still working on this.
A clear night followed the cloudless day, and we found ourselves moving silently through the darkness of the canopy walkway with only the creaking of the bridge and the insects in the distance. I turned my headlamp off and used the moonlight as my guide. On the highest platform (Platform 6), the reflection of the moonlight on the leaves blended in with the stars.
As I started my descent, one of the guides (Roldan) on Platform 5 told me to look to the right, and my jaw dropped. Somehow my dreams were fulfilled: a two-toed sloth was hanging on the bridge only a few feet away from me! “I have not seen one up here for many years,” Roldan said to me. Upside down, slowly moving its head, I could only think of how much I was internally screaming at the sheer luck I have had in witnessing one in the wild, curiously looking at me, too.
Day 6
ExplorNapo Lodge (7/6/25)
“What if breaking one thing fixed everything?” Kristie, one of the Bug Chicks, said to us during our morning Q & A, where we discussed turning points in their lives, taboos about arthropods, and how both Kristie and Jess became scientists. They spoke about the difference in terminology between “discovering” a species versus “describing” in decolonizing language: people have always lived in these locations and known about the organisms. We just described them to others.
“Arthropods are the organisms you most encounter all your lives;” even reindeer herders in the Arctic have experienced arthropods. “A lot of the terms we’ve heard are ‘world’s deadliest’ or ‘spray it, get rid of insects in your home’… not many positives,” even though we need them to have stability in our ecosystems. During our night hike the day prior, a guide pointed out a hand-sized tailless whip scorpion on a tree, and although they lack venom, I never would have guessed that I would hold one the following night!
At the ExploroNapo Lodge in the afternoon, we met Guillermo, the curandero (shaman) of one of the communities. He speaks an impressive six languages and taught us about native medicines: hierba luisa (used to relax before bed), sacha ajo or the “garlic leaf” (used for asthma and spread on the skin to camouflage human odor while hunting), and chiri sanango or the “shaking plant” (used for arthritis). Even yellow ants that are found on the chiri sanango are used to remove moles (by biting!). My favorite medicinal plant is the sangre de grado or “dragon’s blood.” 50 years after planting, the blood-like sap forms and is accessible when the trunk of the tree is cut. This sangre can be used for cuts, mosquito bites, and even for mothers to drink after delivering a baby. A mosquito bit my shoulder seconds before he applied the sangre, and the bite looks and feels better than any of the other mosquito bites I’ve gotten the past few days!
My Spanish proved to be useful in asking him questions about curanderos. I learned that once he is around seventy years old, it is time for him to choose another curandero. Children are watched by elders at a young age, and six or so prospective curanderos are selected around age fourteen. From there, they train with elders for around six months under a diet so strict that only two or so choose to continue training by the end.
I am reminded that as much as I love learning about animals, I truly love hearing stories from other people when I travel. After a protection ceremony, in which Guillermo spoke four different languages to protect us from bad spirits, I returned to the boat mesmerized and grateful for the chance to learn!
Day 7
Sucusari (7/7/25)
“Bienvenido a la Casa de Abejas” (“Welcome to the Bee House”) was written on a sign at our first experience this morning: visiting the Maijuna community of Sucusari and learning about their maintenance of abejas sin aguijon (stingless bees). Children can learn how to take care of them starting at six years old, and their honey is used for medicine (coughs, cold, rheumatism) or for women ages 30-35 to become pregnant: the woman drinks a bottle of fermented honey and pollen (which I was able to try!). Our abejeros (beekeepers), Douglas and his wife, Lesly, told us that they were inspired to keep bees when visiting another community and sought the help of Carlos, a scientist from Spain. Now, thirteen families have about ten to twenty beehives each that they maintain. The bees collect pollen, and honey is harvested in October. In 2021 alone, the community had about 2,000 liters of honey, but this can vary depending on the year. We were lucky enough to try the honey (and me not so lucky in a bee biting my eyelid!); it is sweet but also very tart, having higher water content than the honey that we are used to eating.
After lunch, we learned more about the Amazon conservation efforts by the Maijuna from one of the scientists, Jairo. Around 391,000 hectares (or one million acres) is protected by them, similar to the size of Yosemite National Park. Scientists placed cameras along 11 trials of the forest, setting them twice a year for data collection to give to One Planet, their partner organization. The amount of footage they have assessed is incredible, and the long list of animals (agouti, coati, lowland tapirs, ocelots, pumas, jaguarundi, harpy eagles, and more!) that they have been able to observe is proof that biodiversity has increased, reinforcing the need for protected zones.
“Others do not stop to think about Sucusari, [but] from the first day, [Christa, the Morpho Director] thought about Sucusari.” The Morpho Institute does their due diligence to form partnerships with communities in a way that is not only mutually respectful but seems like family. Those we heard from today have known Christa for many years, and it is a privilege to be able to talk with them. I am reminded that not only do I have roots that I should tap into more than I do, but also that I can uplift the voices of those who are most impacted through my teaching, rather than solely providing facts to my students. There is a human aspect of science education that can easily be shadowed by experimentation, one that I need to bring back to give my students both a sense of place and empathy for others.
Day 8
Sucusari (7/8/25)
Morning birding started bright and early at 5:45 a.m., and I think I am slowly getting better at identifying specific birds (oropendulas, kingfishers, white throated toucans). Our canoe idled near the cabrera edge as we searched for the woodpecker we had heard in the distance, and suddenly, Garly our guide quietly exclaimed “there is a monkey!” We looked up in the canopy, and I could only see the darkness through the trees. Suddenly, the shadow of a figure -that seemed more than twice the size of a squirrel monkey- slowly started to move. I could see its arms and tail sinking further into the leaves, moving more silently than I had assumed anything that size could maneuver. “Titi monkey,” Garly said.
As we slowly pulled away from land, our friends in the other boat were frantically waving for us to quickly come closer. “Pink dolphins!” Cesar, our other guide, said. We quietly scanned the ripples in the water where his boat was pointed, and suddenly, a small geyser of water spewed from a bump in the horizon. Audible gasps were heard from each boat, and we lingered for a few more sightings (two dolphins total!) before returning from what was the least bird-focused birding experience we have had.
The remainder of the day was spent at Sucusari, learning their way of net fishing, preparation methods, and storage. The vast array of fish they catch on a daily basis (11 species total during our experience alone, including piranhas!) is another testament to the high amount of biodiversity even below the surface. Sabalo is the favorite of many fishermen, and we learned how they descale and cut the fish for cooking -and salt storage- in the home of Marina and Jairo. While others tried the cooked fish, I stayed on the ground to help Marina, who was mentoring another Sucusari woman on how to guide groups such as ours. For the first time in many years, I touched raw meat, helping to clean the blood from the cut fish -so fresh that gills moved from those uncut. “There are vegetarian piranhas,” Cesar (our guide) had said on the boat, to which my friend Sam turned to me and said, “Just like you!”
At the crafts market in their community building, the women taught us how to extract the fiber from the palm fronds. I removed my boot to create poorly tightened fibers against my bare leg, and even then, my teacher (Elizabeth) was very patient with my inability to make the fibers intertwine with one another. Victorino, one of the first men to establish the Sucusari community, showed me his way of holding the fibers, and that seemed to work slightly better for me. I spoke Spanish and laughed a lot with them, and that is all I that I could have asked for and wanted.
Day 9
Sucusari (7/9/25)
Today was the last full day of our journey. “The days were long, but the week was short,” Sam, one of my new friends said.
We departed ACTS at 7:00 a.m. for breakfast, then immediately boarded our boats for the community of San Pedro de Mangua. As our boat approached the shore, we were immediately greeted with signs from the children, saying “Welcome to Our Community” in both English and Spanish. While deboarding, I talked with one of the men who was videoing our arrival on his phone. Upon telling him that we are teachers, he told me that they have an English teacher and that we are the second group to visit their community. The kids lead us to the front of their school, spreading red pigment (from seeds) on our faces, and I could already tell that I was going to have a day filled with laughter.
The kids performed traditional dances, and suddenly I was pulled onto the grass to dance with them. I looked up, and many of our group had been drawn into the circle! We danced together, observed birds and learned about their local names (even gifting us pictures of the birds they had drawn!), and even planted trees! During our final goodbyes, I sat on the side of the locals, listening and laughing with them, pulling their kids into the “Anaconda” dance just as they had pulled me a few hours before. “You should come back,” Profe Sharp, the man whom I first met upon arrival, said to me as I was last in line to depart.
Today was an unexpected reminder of my true passions: I love everything science, but between my laughter with students at San Pedro came snippets of memories from my time with students in many different countries. This reinforced my love of learning about—and with—others in measures almost indescribable.
Day 10
Hasta Luego! (7/10/25)
Teary-eyed goodbyes were said as each round of participants departed the Explorama Lodge. In reflecting upon my time this past ten days, I was reminded of our conversation the night prior: although there are a multitude of opinions about the road that is proposed for construction from the Colombian border to Mazan, Peru, the voices of those most impacted must be uplifted. This road would cut directly through indigenous-identifying lands and fragment the rainforest, but it is easy to fall into the “why can’t they just…” mindset rather than asking those directly impacted what they actually want or need. Our conversation was a good reminder of the need for open discussions such as these in our classrooms.
I came to the Amazon expecting to be enthralled by biodiversity, and I was. Biodiversity in mammals is always emphasized in my classroom, and the Amazon is a feast for the senses: I improved in my ability to distinguish specific birds by sound -something I never thought I could do. Many birds in the Amazon are not described or documented as much as those in the U.S.
However, this experience was a reminder for how much more I can learn. I was given the opportunity to be a student again and to develop my own curiosity about scales that are not discussed as often (like arthropods!). The Morpho Institute does a phenomenal job at bringing a beautifully human aspect to Amazon—something I was not expecting as much. I could see my own growth in my daily reflections, questioning what I knew about myself and the perspectives I brought. The community between staff and guides is apparent, but also with those who live in the Amazon. We were able to share our culture while they shared theirs, and I am lucky to be able to return to my classroom with not only new ideas, but a greater understanding of how I can lead my students with fidelity and respect.