# Between Mountains and Tadpoles 2025 *Steve Reifenberg Fellowship Journal | Dariana González Aguilar* February 19, 2026 #### Dariana González Aguilar, Harvard College Class of 2025 and our 2025 Steve Reifenberg Fellow, is documenting her field research in Oaxaca, Mexico. Collaborating with the Amphibian Ecology and Conservation Lab at CIIDIR-IPN, she studies how different tadpole species carve out their own ecological niches in the region’s cloud forests. As this year’s Reifenberg Fellow, her work reflects the program’s emphasis on immersive, community-engaged research. But her time in Oaxaca has been about more than data collection. Through the fellowship, she is learning how science unfolds alongside community life, local governance, and the unpredictability of the mountains. In this journal entry, she reflects on those small adventures and the unexpected turns they bring. ### Small Adventures ![Dariana's journal photos 1](/sites/g/files/omnuum12451/files/styles/hwp_1_1__360x360_scale/public/2026-02/Screenshot%202026-02-19%20at%205.54.59%E2%80%AFAM.png?itok=xQvQTcCy) I experienced what I imagine every fellow experiences at some point during their time abroad. I returned from Veracruz feeling immensely anxious about how little time I have left in Mexico and the fact that I had done very little adventuring outside of my field work. With the help of my closest friends, I compiled a list of places I had to visit before leaving Oaxaca. I began crossing off items from that bucket list this month. I visited El Arbol del Tule, the tree with the widest trunk in the world, and el Cerro del Fortín, which overlooks the entire city of Oaxaca. Before heading to the field, I headed to the dams of Santo Domingo Tomaltepec. I spent a lovely (albeit windy) afternoon there sipping on atole and eating some vanilla conchas. ### Heading to Santa Cruz Tepetotutla (finally) ![Dariana's journal](/sites/g/files/omnuum12451/files/styles/hwp_1_1__360x360_scale/public/2026-02/Screenshot%202026-02-23%20at%203.44.11%E2%80%AFPM.png?itok=8eYHL9cX) I have learned that field work in the mountains of Oaxaca places you squarely at the mercy of the weather. As the end of the month drew closer, it seemed as if my trip to Santa Cruz Tepetotutla would be delayed once more. The trip that had first been scheduled for December moved to mid-January, only to be delayed again when a severe cold front settled over the mountains. Then, almost unbelievably, a landslide blocked the only road into the community, pushing our departure to the very last week of January. The trip itself was another test of patience. After nearly three hours of winding down mountain roads and another three along a narrow dirt path, we were welcomed by what appeared to be a sea of clouds drifting between mountain peaks at the entrance of the community. ### Governance Culture ![Dariana's journal](/sites/g/files/omnuum12451/files/styles/hwp_1_1__360x360_scale/public/2026-02/Screenshot%202026-02-23%20at%203.47.01%E2%80%AFPM.png?itok=wEgBV4UJ) One of the most special moments of the trip was witnessing how an Indigenous community in Oaxaca is governed. We visited the *Autoridad* – a council of elected community members entrusted with governing Santa Cruz – the night we arrived. Every able-bodied person in the community must serve a leadership role, or *cargo*, in the community once they reach adulthood, ensuring that care for the community is a shared responsibility. We arrived in a small room where the council was already seated. One by one, we shook each person’s hand before sitting across from them. We handed over a letter from the CIIDIR containing our names and travel purpose, and explained where we hoped to go and what we hoped to observe. The council listened closely and exchanged a few words in Chinanteco. When we finished, they responded in turn, outlining the rules we would follow and the expectations they had for us. ![Dariana's journal](/sites/g/files/omnuum12451/files/styles/hwp_1_1__360x360_scale/public/2026-02/Screenshot%202026-02-23%20at%203.51.19%E2%80%AFPM.png?itok=ZFEju0lh) ### Shifts in Research We went to the river the same night that we arrived in Santa Cruz. But by the time we finished collecting the tadpoles for our feeding experiments, we realized that something was seriously wrong. Too many of them were missing teeth (example to the right) – a known symptom of the chytrid fungus that has decimated amphibian populations across the world. Without enough toothed tadpoles to continue as planned, and confronted with the concerning possibility of chytrid being widespread in even the most conserved of Oaxaca’s forests, we changed the course of our research (again). The rest of our time in the field was spent tracing the extent of potential chytrid infection in tadpoles. We characterized rivers and pools that housed tadpoles, sorted tadpoles by species, and hunched over microscopes for hours to examine what remained of their tiny teeth. ### Ecology and Tradition ![Dariana's journal](/sites/g/files/omnuum12451/files/styles/hwp_1_1__360x360_scale/public/2026-02/Screenshot%202026-02-23%20at%203.53.27%E2%80%AFPM.png?itok=AbfUzgMY) Spending time with residents of Santa Cruz was the perfect opportunity to learn more about the link between the community’s culture and ecology and understand the basis of the conservation work being done there. Our guide, Mr. Roberto Pacheco, showed me how much of the community’s ecological knowledge lives with its elders. While we worked, he would sometimes wander into the forest and return holding the stem of a plant. A remedy for tooth pain, he told us. Others, he explained on later walks, eased stomach aches or headaches. He learned how to identify the plants from his grandfather. He told us that tadpoles begin to grow their legs after the first thunderstorms of the year – a trick his grandfather also taught him while catching them for tadpole soup. Other conversations revealed a different relationship with the mountains. Some men declined to join us at the rivers after dark, fearing the *Matlazihua* or *nahuales* said to wander the forest at night. These legends, which were often shared as warnings to us, defined where people went and how closely they moved with the forest itself. ### The mountain collapses The day before we were meant to leave Santa Cruz, the same mountain collapsed again, sending another landslide across the road and cutting off the only way out. Various community members insisted that four landslides in two months meant the mountain was asking something of them. Over the next few days, a priest was invited to bless the landslide site, and the community planned to gather, sacrifice a goat, and bury it beneath the mud. We were told that the ceremony would calm the mountain and bring harmony back to the forest. In the meantime, we remained in Santa Cruz, waiting for the CIIDIR to send a vehicle that could reach us. ### The landslide ![Dariana's journal](/sites/g/files/omnuum12451/files/styles/hwp_1_1__360x360_scale/public/2026-02/Screenshot%202026-02-23%20at%204.33.51%E2%80%AFPM.png?itok=G15mrAxx) Supplies ran low, but we were well looked after. Different families invited us in for coffee, breakfast, dinner, or all three. We were able to bear the wait thanks to their generosity. On January 30th, we crossed the landslide on foot to reach the CIIDIR vehicle on the other side. I paused to document the scene. I wasn’t sure when I would again walk across a road buried by an entire mountainside. Share on:- [ Facebook ](#) - [ Twitter ](#) - [ Linkedin ](#)