The third iteration of Fly School finished up last week after an intense two weeks in the tropics of Costa Rica. Held at the Texas A&M University Soltis Center, this version had a different vibe to it. For some of us grizzled old field types, it was not a typical trip to the tropics; the almost luxurious facility contrasted strongly with the with the rigor of the hillside location, making me feel a lot more like the elder statesman I am now. As David Grimaldi (one of the instructors) said later, “doing leg presses in an air-conditioned gym is not the same as climbing hills in 110% humidity.” Regardless, the center and it’s staff, did a marvelous job hosting our group, especially Dr. Eugenio Gonzalez, the director and Ronald Vargas, the subdirector and an old acquaintance from La Selva days. Joining Dave and I were returning lecturers Dalton Amorim, Erika McAlister, and Jim Hogue, and firstimers Jessica Gillung, Matt Bertone, and Paula Riccardi.   

As before, this Fly School was organized by Giar Ann Kung, who did a phenomenal job getting us organized, got all the necessary equipment together, and aided by Jessica Gillung, Wendy Porras, and Maricelle Mendez Soto, got the setup ready.  Funding for the project came from the Natural History Musum of Los Angeles, the Dipterists’s Society, and Steve Gaimari.

But how was the fly diversity,  you might ask? We had some fantastically amazing collections turned in for the course, including most of the tropical specialties that I hoped they would find (the specimens were donated to the Costa Rican collection at the Museo Nacional (former InBio collection). In particular, we got a pantophthalmid (giant tropical timber fly), ropalomerids, one ctenostylid, somatiids, neriids, tanypezids, and so on. Much of interesting material was found at the “magic tree”, a dying palm that was struck by lightning and had a flux of decaying goopy material at the base. There was also a “magic bush” out in the open on the lawn that seemed to have an unending supply of somatiids on it, just hanging upside down on the leaves.

A couple of other highlights were one rainy night when the wind was blowing in all kinds of weird ulidiid flies which then were attracted to the fluorescent lights in the breezeway. We found two individuals of the weirdest: male Plagoiocephalus latifrons. That was the only night we saw them, showing how idiosyncratic the evenings were there. Some evenings, the sheets were covered with moths, other nights it was beetles or some nights nearly nothing.

Matt Bertone was the photographer for the group, and many photos have already been shared on X (Twitter) and Matt’s Flickr account (thanks, Matt), but I reposted a couple here to whet the appetites of the truly fly obsessed. One most amazing to me was this fanniid with a bunch of botfly eggs on its back. Human botflies (Dermatobia hominis) don’t lay their eggs on the hosts- instead, they capture mosquitoes and other human-associated flkes and glue their eggs onto them. The eggs hatch when they are triggered by contacting a mammal host and the larvae crawl down on to the skin and dig their way into the host. This fly had many eggs, which began to hatch probably as a reaction to the ethanol killing liquid. This was something I hadn’t seen before and shows us how nearly limitless the world’s biodiversity can be.

 The next Fly School will be in 2 years; we don’t know where, yet, but we hope to see you there!