D-nets and Diplomacy: Supporting long-term stream biomonitoring abroad

By Christina Linkem

If you know me, you know that I can’t stay away from Costa Rica. You might also know that I’ve become obsessed with birdwatching and I love to surf. So it may come as a surprise when I say that the highlight of my most recent trip to Costa Rica in November 2024 wasn’t when I saw 20 critically endangered great green macaws (Ara ambiguus) at the Ara Manzanillo Wildlife Refuge, or when I got to visit one of my favorite surfing beaches in Jaco. The highlight of the trip, hands down, was when a high school student asked me how she can become a scientist.

I was in Costa Rica as a part of an annually awarded grant called the Citizen Diplomacy Action Fund (CDAF) which awards up to $10,000 to alumni of U.S. government sponsored exchange programs (i.e. Fulbright and Peace Corps) for public service projects related to any of the given themes of the year. If the U.S. Student Fulbright Program is “Breaking Bad”, consider CDAF to be its spinoff series, “Better Call Saul”.

For my CDAF project, I delivered equipment and curriculum to schools and environmental education centers across Costa Rica to equip the institutions with the gear and knowledge needed to monitor their local aquatic ecosystems using macroinvertebrates as bioindicators. I worked with Monika Springer (University of Costa Rica)–one of the top entomology experts in the country–to determine what field gear and resources would be the most useful for the participants. Some of the major items purchased and subsequently donated included D-nets, magnifying glasses, and microscopes, all snuggly packed into a surfboard bag that made its way across international borders to bring joy and curiosity to classrooms packed with eager students and educators.

The trip began in Puerto Viejo de Sarapiquí where my original 2022-2023 Fulbright Fellowship was located. After spending the morning getting my boots wet, collecting enough specimens for the day’s class, I was filled with nerves. My first class arrived like a school of voracious piranhas, donning matching green school uniforms that read “Las Tortuguitas”. The children were not immediately impressed by my blue-background bubble-themed PowerPoint slides, but after a snack intermission, I unveiled the bugs and let the kids go wild with the magnifying glasses and forceps. After the students, broken up into 5 groups of 5, got to see the insects up close, we then walked to the nearby stream to practice using the D-nets to collect more insects. They marvelled at the diversity and number of creatures that exist under the veil of the seemingly clear and barren flow of the river. I thought the first class went well, especially given that the age of the students was drastically below the target age group that was originally sought after in the grant proposal application. Nonetheless, it was a success, and I then moved on to the next destination.

The journey to the second workshop involved a 2-hour journey, 2 different vehicles, and a water taxi to reach Colegio Indígena Sulayöm, Costa Rica’s first indigenous high school in Amubri. Unlike the antsy Tortuguitas, the high school students were intrigued from the start. I could hardly get through 2 PowerPoint slides at a time without pausing to answer thoughtful and interesting questions that the students had, such as “do macroinvertebrates help break down plastic?” and “can freshwater insects survive in brackish water?”.

The students’ curiosity was contagious. By the time we moved to the hands-on portion of the workshop, they were buzzing with excitement. As we navigated the rocky streambed and practiced using D-nets, I watched them carefully collect specimens and eagerly compare their finds. Their amazement at the tiny creatures hidden in plain sight mirrored my own excitement when I first began exploring aquatic ecosystems.

The workshop wrapped up with a group discussion, where the students shared their observations and reflected on the importance of protecting their local ecosystems. The moment that stood out most was when one student approached me and asked, “How can I become a scientist?” Her question felt like a culmination of all the efforts that had gone into this project. It was a necessary reminder that access to resources and mentorship can ignite aspirations and open doors to new possibilities.

As I reflect on the trip, I am reminded of the importance of creating opportunities for young people to connect with their natural surroundings. The tools and knowledge shared through this project are only the beginning—the real impact lies in the curiosity sparked and the potential unlocked in each student. Whether they become scientists, conservationists, or simply stewards of their local environments, these young minds are the key to a more sustainable future.

And so, while the great green macaws and perfect waves hold a special place in my heart, it’s the moments of connection and inspiration—like the one with that aspiring scientist—that will stay with me the longest. Costa Rica continues to teach me that the most rewarding adventures are the ones that leave a lasting impact, both on the places we visit and the people we meet.

Photos: Las Tortuguitas sorting through macroinvertebrates in the classroom (top left); students of the Colegio Indígena Sulayöm school collecting macroinvertebrates in their nearby stream (top right); students observing insects up close with their new microscope (bottom left); and my journey back home after another successful aquatic ecology workshop (bottom right).

Included in the CDAF grant budget was an honorarium used to pay local scientists to help me translate the classroom lectures from English to Spanish. I want to give a special thank you to all of the translators who helped along the way: Priscilla Abarca-Bonilla, Aldair Bejarano, Monika Springer, Marcello Morales, and Lilly Briggs. If you’d like to learn more about how this project was funded, please reach out to me at linkemc91@gmail.com.