As the Earth warms due to climate change, soil that has been frozen for thousands of years is beginning to thaw. In some cases, this permafrost releases methane, a potent greenhouse gas that is known to trap heat in our planet鈥檚 atmosphere.

, a 91探花 doctoral student of civil and environmental engineering, has been investigating which environmental factors contribute to permafrost thaw and the release of methane into the atmosphere. For this research, Eklof has traveled to a field site southwest of Fairbanks, Alaska, every year for the past five years.

“This area is changing rapidly,” Eklof said. “And it already had a reputation as the ‘land of extremes’ because its annual temperatures range from below -40 degrees Celsius (-40 F) to above 27 degrees Celsius (80 F), one of the largest temperature ranges in the world.”

In addition to doing research in Alaska, Eklof has spent the past three years as an instructor and co-coordinator of the , a free science summer camp for youth in foster care.

Now Eklof is headed back to Alaska for one last data collection season before he graduates. 91探花News asked him about the upcoming trip as part of an occasional series, “In the Field,” highlighting 91探花field efforts.

Tell us about this site. What does it look like?

Joel Eklof: The site was established almost 20 years ago and has been the subject of numerous publications as part of the and the .

I love hosting visitors, so I am going to talk through what you would see if you came to the field to visit, which is an open invitation to all readers 鈥� just know you will likely be put to work!

First, you pass a lush forest of towering deciduous and coniferous trees with grasses and mushrooms springing up at the edges of the trail. As you swipe at a few mosquitos, you continue to walk gently downhill and the compact trail morphs into a bouncy and narrow wooden boardwalk hovering low over the forest floor. Then the deciduous trees disappear and only coniferous black spruce trees remain. These trees are an indicator of frozen permafrost soils residing beneath your feet.

As you slowly gain more confidence treading on the boardwalk, the black spruce trees become progressively smaller as permafrost creeps closer to the surface. Tree size is limited by how deeply roots can grow, and because roots cannot grow into permafrost, shallow permafrost allows for only miniature versions of the towering black spruce seen earlier on the walk.

Just as your confidence in your balance is reaching a new high, a steep ramp transitions the boardwalk from inches above the surface to a full precarious meter (about 3 feet) above the surface. By now, the black spruce trees are becoming increasingly sparse.

Suddenly, you look up and notice the few remaining black spruce are leaning at a 45-degree angle. These are referred to as “drunken trees.” In this area, soil becomes too wet for black spruce to sustain themselves, creating an ensemble of dying trees marking the transition out of permafrost terrain.

Looking further down the boardwalk, we are greeted by a vibrantly green and moss-covered wetland, which is called a collapse scar bog. This bog formed as the soil surface dropped in response to permafrost thaw. As ground ice melted, soil from above filled the space once taken up by ice, causing the entire land surface to descend toward the water table.

We have now made it to our destination, and it is time to enjoy a field snack. At this point, I would offer some chocolate-covered almonds 鈥� my personal go to during fieldwork.

I have spent over 16 months at the site balancing on the boardwalks while collecting data. We collect over 40 types of data which include information about water, soil, vegetation, snow and greenhouse gas emissions.

What do you hope to learn on this trip?

JE: We have two main questions. The first question is how and why soil temperatures and permafrost thaw rates vary from year to year and location to location. The second question is how water, energy and nutrient inputs from the permafrost plateau impact how much methane the bog releases into the air. We explore these questions by observing how the site responds to natural variations in factors like air temperature, snow and rain.

The site has experienced a wide variety of conditions over the last six years. On December 26, 2022, more than an inch of rain fell when temperatures are usually below -20 degrees Celsius (-13 F). During this abnormal rain-on-snow event, we observed soil temperatures rise sharply at all site locations. Most researchers in the permafrost community, including us, expected this rain event to lead to a massive thaw. But, to our surprise, the permafrost did not thaw that year. This rain-on-snow event was followed by an unusually dry summer, and that likely protected the permafrost because thermal energy moves through dry soil more slowly than wet soil.

The longer we collect data, the more potentially insightful scenarios we observe. Each observation is another puzzle piece to better understand permafrost physics, wetland greenhouse gas emissions and how this system may change in the future.

This time next year, we will take one last trip to the site to do a final data offload, remove our instruments and send field materials back to Seattle.

Who will be participating in this field effort?

JE: I will be the only one from collecting data, but I will be surrounded by friends and colleagues from other groups. The culture of fieldwork here is that of collaboration, community and mutual support. We often eat lunch together overlooking the bog and help one another out whenever possible. Sometimes we dress up in preposterous, colorful and impractical outfits for what we call “Field Fashion Fridays.”

What鈥檚 something you really enjoy about doing this work 鈥� especially something that might not occur to most people?

JE: This fieldwork has a lot of exceptionally enjoyable moments. Some days, the sun is shining through the branches of larches as they change to a breathtaking golden color, the energetic population of dragonflies succeed in keeping the mosquitoes at bay, and data collection goes smoothly and efficiently. Those days are amazing!

There are also days, however, when intense hail mixed with rain soaks through your clothes just as an instrument worth thousands of dollars fails (again). To make matters worse, the mosquitoes, somehow, are still able to navigate the storm to find your unprotected hands and face. These moments, when everything seems to be going wrong, are enjoyable to me in their own way, even though for many people, these moments sound like a nightmare. In the preposterous chaos that occurs when Murphy鈥檚 Law takes over, I feel most alive and energized, and that I chose the perfect career path.

I am always surprised by the amount of calm and quiet moments fieldwork provides. Some types of data collection, such as permafrost probing or chemical sampling, take constant focus and physical exertion. There are other tasks, however, such as measuring greenhouse gas emissions, that involve a lot of stillness. During this process, we place a large white metal box onto the soil surface to record greenhouse gas emissions. Any movement may ruin the data by causing methane bubbles to float to the surface. This provides a rare moment in life when the best thing, and even more rarely, the most productive thing, is to be still. During these periods, sometimes I scribble notes or sketches, take in the view or read. I have read over 20 books while in the field. A few of my favorites are “Lord of the Rings,” “The Shining,” and “The House in the Cerulean Sea.”

Can you talk about your work with the Fostering Science program?

JE: Did you know youth in foster care are drastically underrepresented at summer camps? Barriers such as cost, transportation and lack of experience make participation difficult. The Fostering Science program provides a free week of learning, creating and playing in the boreal forest. Most of these youth are Alaska Native. Campers get the opportunity to develop an identity in science and their culture through close mentorship with Alaska Native Elders, Indigenous educators, artists and professional scientists such as myself.

Last year we created a paid leadership component, called , to give science, job and leadership training to participants close to aging out of the foster care system. Participants in this program learn science communication skills and build curriculum that they then teach during the Fostering Science camp.

I brought the leadership group to my field site and taught them all about the landscape transitions I described above. Then those participants gave the tours during Fostering Science and taught the campers all about permafrost, trees and wetlands. We also co-created an active trivia game that had campers jumping, skipping and crab-walking as they cemented their new knowledge.

This year I am coordinating and instructing in both programs again. Next year, when I will be a postdoctoral researcher, I plan to lead a formal evaluation of the educational impacts and outcomes of these amazing programs. We are also planning to create an internship program where past Leaders-In-Training can spend the whole summer working with researchers in the field.

For more information, contact Eklof at jeklof@uw.edu.

Researchers at the 91探花 and 91探花Tacoma have been studying arsenic levels in the mud, water and in creatures from lakes in the south Puget Sound area. Eating contaminated fish or snails from these lakes could lead to health risks听because of the high arsenic levels found in those organisms.

Pollution from regional smelter emissions is likely the source of high concentrations of arsenic found at the bottom of lakes in King and Pierce counties. Arsenic is a chemical linked to increased cancer risk.听

The researchers found that creatures that live in shallow lakes (such as Bonney, Steel and Killarney) were more likely to have higher levels of arsenic compared to creatures living in deeper lakes (such as Angle Lake) even though Angle Lake and Lake Killarney have similar levels of arsenic on the bottom. The team detected levels associated with increased cancer risk for the following activities:听

• Eating snails from any of the studied lakes for one meal a month
• Eating crayfish from Steel Lake and Lake Killarney for one meal a month
• Eating sunfish from Lake Killarney for two meals a month

The team is currently working with the Department of Health and Department of Ecology on actions to protect human health. The researchers are also beginning to work on an affordable and effective way to clean up the lakes.听

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For more information, contact at jimgawel@uw.edu and at rbneum@uw.edu.

People around the world consume rice in their daily diets. But in addition to its nutrient and caloric content, , which in large doses is a toxin linked to multiple health conditions and dietary-related cancers.

Now researchers at the 91探花 have found that warmer temperatures, at levels expected under most climate change projections, can lead to higher concentrations of arsenic in rice grains. The team will Dec. 10 at the American Geophysical Union’s Fall Meeting in San Francisco.

“We know that more arsenic is released from soil at higher temperatures. Here we saw this response to temperature in the soil impact the arsenic content of rice grain,” said senior author , a 91探花associate professor of civil and environmental engineering. “We were working with soil that had relatively low arsenic levels, but the warmer temperatures still led to increased arsenic concentrations in the grains at ranges where we begin to have health concerns. If these results are representative of what we might expect for field-grown rice, then climate change could exacerbate the problem of arsenic-contaminated rice.”

Arsenic occurs naturally in the soil, though its concentration is higher in areas that have historically used arsenic-based herbicides or where irrigation water contains arsenic. When farmers grow crops like rice under flooded conditions, arsenic is drawn out of the soil and into the water.

“In general, the plant is like a big tube or a straw as it draws water up from its roots to its leaves. And rice naturally takes up arsenic because the arsenic mimics other molecules that these plants preferentially draw out of the soil,” said lead author , a 91探花doctoral student in civil and environmental engineering. “It’s a perfect storm for concentrating arsenic.”

To determine whether rice would draw up more arsenic under warmer conditions, the team collected soil from a paddy field in Davis, California. Back in Seattle, the researchers grew rice in this soil in temperature-controlled growth chambers.

They compared arsenic uptake under four different temperature conditions. Some plants were grown under normal conditions for that part of California: 77 degrees Fahrenheit (25 C) on average during the day. Others were grown at incrementally warmer temperatures reflecting different potential levels of warming for that region by the end of this century: 82 F (28 C), 87 F (30.5 C), and 91 F (33 C). Night time temperatures were 3.6 F (2 C) cooler than daytime for all plants.

As the temperature increased, the team saw increased uptake of arsenic to every part of the plant the researchers looked at 鈥� including the rice grains.

“For the stem and the leaves, it’s a clear step up in arsenic concentration as we increase the temperature,” Farhat said. “For the grains, the highest temperature made the plants so stressed out that they didn’t produce any grains. But these other two forecasts of increasing temperature show a similar increase of arsenic in the rice grains. Arsenic concentrations in the grain more than tripled between the low- and high-temperature treatments.”

Arsenic is a toxin for rice plants too, and they have mechanisms to protect themselves against higher levels of it. One method includes turning on a protein that sequesters arsenic in specific cells and tissues of plant. But when the researchers measured expression levels of this protein in their plants at higher temperatures, they saw no difference compared to the plants grown at today鈥檚 relatively low temperatures.

“Maybe the arsenic concentration was so low in our soil that the plant wasn’t 鈥榓ware鈥� it needed to turn on its defense mechanism,” Farhat said. “We haven’t been as concerned about these low-arsenic systems, but our data suggest that as temperatures start to warm, even rice grown in soil with low arsenic could be at risk for having higher levels of arsenic in the grains.”

Some forms of arsenic are more toxic than others. The team is now collaborating with researchers at 91探花Tacoma to develop a method that would allow them to see what forms of arsenic are in the different parts of the plant. That way, they can get a better picture of any potential health risks to people.

“Arsenic in all forms is bad for us, and it’s bad for the plants as well,” Farhat said. “Increasing arsenic can decrease crop yield. That can be economically bad for rice farmers. I want people to remember even if they are not eating a lot of rice, a lot of people are heavily relying on this crop. When we’re thinking and planning for the future, we need to remember that rice touches a lot of people and we should work together on that.”

Other co-authors are , a 91探花professor of environmental and forest sciences; , a 91探花research professor of civil and environmental engineering; and , a 91探花research scientist in civil and environmental engineering. This research was funded by a 91探花 Innovation Award, a National Science Foundation Innovations at the Nexus of Food, Energy and Water Systems award and a National Science Foundation Graduate Research Fellowship.

For more information, contact Neumann at rbneum@uw.edu and Farhat at yfarhat@uw.edu.

Grant number: 1740042

Learn more about the听鲍奥鈥檚听Population Health Initiative:听a 25-year, interdisciplinary effort to bring understanding and solutions to the biggest challenges facing communities.

By 2050, Earth鈥檚 population is estimated to reach nine billion. This will intensify a growing food security crisis, which is already exacerbated by current agricultural processes, climate change and economic inequality. Around the globe, there is an urgent need to improve the safety, efficiency and sustainability of the food supply chain.

This fall the 91探花’s annual will feature three 91探花engineers and scientists who are working across disciplines to manage the quality and quantity of the food we eat and grow. Their lectures 鈥� on developing technology to help farmers, studying how arsenic affects food and water quality, and analyzing how dams in rivers impact fish 鈥� are free and open to the public, but seating is limited and .

Growing more with less: Smart tech solutions to feed the world

The series kicks off Oct. 10, at 7:30 p.m. in Kane Hall 130 with , a professor in the civil and environmental engineering department. His work has resulted in satellite management systems in several nations across Asia that help improve water, food and energy security. Asia has some of the fastest growing economies in the world, but regional monsoons impact efficient water management and reduce agricultural yield. Learn how Hossain uses global weather models and satellite data to develop technology that will help farmers increase crop yield through sustainable water management.

Updated 11/25/19 – video

Human and ecosystem health: Arsenic in food, water, plants and animals

On Oct. 23, at 7:30 p.m. in Kane Hall 130, , an associate professor of civil and environmental engineering, will talk about how arsenic is a naturally occurring but harmful pollutant. Its ubiquitous presence in natural and agricultural environments threatens global food security and negatively affects the health of millions of people worldwide. Neumann is studying how arsenic in local and global settings affects food and water quality, and the health of ecosystems.

Updated 11/25/19 – video

Floods, fish and people: Challenges and opportunities in the Mekong River basin

The lecture series closes Nov. 7, at 7:30 p.m. in Kane Hall 130 with , associate professor of aquatic and fishery sciences. Holtgrieve is an ecosystem ecologist and fisheries scientist whose research spans the Puget Sound area, Alaska and the Mekong River in Southeast Asia. He will talk about his work in the Mekong River basin to address how energy policy, watershed hydrology and ecosystems interact in order to lessen the effects of climate change and new infrastructure in rivers around the globe.

Updated 11/25/19 – video

All lectures are free and start at 7:30 p.m. Advance registration, either or by calling 206-543-0540, is required. All lectures will be broadcast at a later date on UWTV.

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Arctic permafrost is thawing as the Earth warms due to climate change. In some cases, scientists predict that this thawing soil , a potent greenhouse gas, that is known to trap more heat in our planet’s atmosphere.

Now a 91探花-led team has found a new reason behind increased methane emissions from a thawing permafrost bog in Alaska: Early spring rainfall warms up the bog and promotes the growth of plants and methane-producing microbes. The team showed that early precipitation in 2016 warmed the bog about three weeks earlier than usual, and increased the bog’s methane emissions by 30 percent compared to previous years. These in Geophysical Research Letters.

“In general, the chance of generating methane goes up with increased rainfall because soils get waterlogged. But what we see here is different,” said corresponding author , an associate professor in the 91探花Department of Civil & Environmental Engineering. “Early rainfall sent a slog of warm water moving into our bog. We believe microbes in the bog got excited because they were warmed up, so they released nutrients from the soil that allowed more plant growth. Methane production and emission are tightly linked with soil temperature and plant growth.

“Our results emphasize that these permafrost regions are sensitive to the thermal effects of rain, and because we’re anticipating that these environments are going to get wetter in the future, we could be seeing increases in methane emissions that we weren’t expecting.”

In northern latitudes, bogs form when ice-rich permafrost thaws. The thawed area sinks relative to the surrounding landscape as the ice melts, and soil becomes waterlogged, creating a wetland with grassy plants called sedges growing across the surface.

Neumann and her team studied a thawing permafrost bog located about 20 miles from Fairbanks, Alaska, from 2014 through 2016. Over the years, the researchers tracked methane emissions in and around the bog, sedge plant growth and soil temperature at 16 different depths.

In 2016 the team saw temperatures at the edge of the bog increase 20 days earlier, and cumulative methane emissions across the bog increase by 30 percent as compared to the previous years.

“We saw the plants going crazy and methane emissions going bonkers,” Neumann said. “2016 had above average rainfall, but so did 2014. So what was different about this year?”

The key turned out to be the timing of the precipitation: The spring rainfall started earlier in 2016 compared to 2014. In the spring the ground is colder than the air. So the rain, which is the same temperature as the air, warms up the ground as it enters the soil. The earlier the spring rains come, the sooner the soil in the surrounding forest gets saturated. Any surplus rain then flows down into the bog, rapidly warming the bog soils.

The warm soil aids microbes living in the bog and speeds up their metabolisms. Normally microbes use oxygen to break down organic matter, and they release carbon dioxide into the air. But in waterlogged soils, like a bog created by permafrost thaw, there’s no oxygen around. So the microbes have to use whatever is available, and they end up converting organic matter into methane.

“It’s the bottom of the barrel in terms of energy production for them,” Neumann said. “The microbes in this bog on some level are like ‘Oh man, we’re stuck making methane because that’s all this bog is allowing us to do.'”

At the same time, the sedge plants are also fueled by the warmer soil. In 2016 the team found more of these plants at the warmer edges of the bog. Sedges, like most plants, take carbon dioxide from the air to make their food, which they send to their roots to help them grow. Sometimes the food leaks out of the roots into the soil where it can become food for the microbes. So more sedges directly fuel the microbes to make more methane.

In addition, sedges contain hollow, air-filled tubes that allow oxygen to flow from the air to their roots. These tubes also allow the microbes’ methane to escape the bog and enter the atmosphere.

“The plants are really doing two things,” Neumann said. “They’re providing yummy carbon that lets the microbes make more methane than they would have otherwise. The plants also provide a conduit that allows methane to escape into the atmosphere. They’re a double whammy for methane production and emission.”

As the Earth warms, these northern latitude regions are expected to experience more rainfall. If this rain falls in spring or early summer, these areas could release more methane into the atmosphere than is currently predicted. Neumann and her team plan to examine methane emissions from other bogs to see if this pattern holds true across northern latitudes.

鈥淚n general, the ability of rain to transport thermal energy into soils has been underappreciated,鈥� Neumann said. 鈥淥ur study shows that by affecting soil temperature and methane emissions, rain can increase the ability of thawing permafrost landscapes to warm the climate.鈥�

听

Co-authors include at Kansas State University, who conducted this work as a 91探花civil and environmental engineering postdoctoral researcher; at the UW; at SMRU consulting, who conducted this work as a field technician after completing a 91探花oceanography undergraduate degree; and at the U.S. Geological Survey; and at the University of Alaska Fairbanks; and at the University of Guelph. This research was funded by the U.S. Department of Energy Office of Science and the USGS Land Change Science Program.

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For more information, contact Neumann at rbneum@uw.edu.

Grant numbers: DE-SC0010338

In the Pacific Northwest, the conversation about hydroelectric dams is complicated: Dams hamper the natural migration of salmon, yet they are an important source of cheap, renewable energy for the region.

In other parts of the world, gray areas still exist, but the conversation about dams is very different, brought on by a critical need for reliable food and energy sources. In tropical river systems such as the Amazon, Congo and the Mekong, river and lake fishing provide food security in some of the world’s poorest regions and would be negatively impacted by an onslaught of new dams. At the same time, existing and future dams planned on these rivers hold the promise of renewable energy in places that arguably need it the most.

There, the debate is over when and how 鈥� not whether 鈥� dams will be built and operated.

In Southeast Asia, the Mekong River and its tributaries support what is likely the largest inland fishery in the world, worth more than $2 billion annually, that over 60 million people rely on for daily food and livelihoods. Nearly 100 hydropower dams are planned for construction along the tributaries and main stem of the river’s 2,700-mile stretch.

In a , researchers from the 91探花, Arizona State University and others institutions that allows dam operators to generate power in ways that also protect 鈥� and possibly improve 鈥� food supplies and businesses throughout the Mekong River basin. The proposed solution, the first of its kind, can be applied to other large river systems around the world facing similar tradeoffs.

“One of the challenges in dealing with these systems and environmental change is the conversation is largely stuck in, ‘don’t build dams,’ or ‘yes, build dams,'” said , a 91探花assistant professor of aquatic and fishery sciences. “What this does say is, let’s try to find ways we can work together. This won’t solve all the problems, but let’s work to find solutions.”

The paper represents a first step in a large, multiyear project involving researchers across the 91探花and ASU campuses. Funded by the National Science Foundation’s , the project will use findings in the Mekong River basin as an example of how three critical issues 鈥� feeding people, generating energy and maintaining functioning ecosystems 鈥� can be addressed thoughtfully and progressively in the developing world.

Every summer in the Mekong River basin, monsoon rains flood the river and delta, increasing by six times the flooded area of Cambodia’s Tonle Sap Lake, the largest lake in Southeast Asia and frequently called the “heart” of the Mekong. The rise and eventual fall of the water triggers the migration of dozens of fish species, which spawn in the upper tributaries during low water. Fish larvae return to the lake on the next flood to grow and mature in its highly productive waters. This yearly pattern provides a critical source of animal protein, and an economy, for the people of Cambodia and other countries along the Lower Mekong.

But with new dams coming online soon, there is no basin-wide effort to coordinate how each dam’s release of water will impact the hydrology of the basin or fish, said , a 91探花professor of civil and environmental engineering and a collaborator on the project.

The goal of the project, involving researchers from fisheries, forestry, engineering, public health and the , is to gather information about how dam water flow interacts with fish, rice production and nutrition in this region and provide the most useful information to individual countries so that they can decide how best to operate their hydropower dams, he explained.

“We are trying to find a sweet spot for the many stakeholders, who often compete for resources, that can maximize the overall benefits in a way that doesn’t do too much damage to the environment, fish and livelihood of the region,” Hossain said.

One promising option is to use hydroelectric dams to mimic the flood of water from monsoon rains each spring that bring fish to the lake. The team’s algorithm, outlined in the Science paper, recommends long, low-flow periods punctuated by rapid flooding, which would allow dam operators to manage their power generation priorities while protecting fishing economies downstream.

The researchers found that seasonal periods of drought before the annual flood are crucial to producing abundant fisheries in the lake and surrounding streams. When the soil is dry, trees and plants grow, organic matter is produced and the soil is filled with nutrients. When floodwaters rush in, those nutrients are suspended in the water and fish are able to exploit them 鈥� drawing more fish to the feast, which in turn benefits fishers.

Holtgrieve, along with several 91探花colleagues, will study the flooding cycle in connection with the nutritional value of fish and rice, both staples in Southeast Asian diets, to help prioritize certain species and timing for harvesting the most nutritious food. Specifically, he will analyze tissue samples from 50 different fish species covering a range of habitats in the Mekong, measuring for beneficial fatty acids, vitamins and minerals, as well as for harmful elements like mercury.

“We as a society view fish as generally good for you,” Holtgrieve said. “This project recognizes that not all fish are the same in terms of their nutritional value.”

With the knowledge of which fish are the healthiest to eat, the researchers can work backward by figuring out what those fish like to eat, and then what flood and drought regime is most likely to produce those plants and organisms 鈥� controlled by dams releasing water 鈥� that produce more fish of high nutritional value.

Similarly, 91探花professors (civil and environmental engineering) and (environmental and forest sciences) will look at beneficial nutrients, such as zinc, and harmful contaminants, such as arsenic, in rice to measure whether the length of time that rice paddies are flooded makes a difference in the presence of these elements in the crop. Again, water releases from hydropower dams could be programmed to optimize for rice that is high in zinc and low in arsenic.

Hossain has used satellites to reverse engineer the blueprint of dam operations on about 20 dams in the Mekong region, and his those findings to dozens of the planned dams to try to predict their likely water releases and storages, and how they may impact the surrounding landscape.

“Satellites are immune to political boundaries on the ground,” he said. “Information is key, and I think it should be a fundamental right for everyone to know what’s happening with the water around them, but that’s not the case here, unfortunately.”

In other aspects of the project, (civil and environmental engineering) will help forecast future floods under hydropower and climate change scenarios, while (public health) will integrate the fish and rice nutrient data with information on the nutritional needs of the local population.

In addition to lab and field work, the researchers plan to visit the region, documenting in video and photos the personal stories from people who live in the Mekong River basin. They will also involve 91探花undergraduate students in a by accepting submissions for a based on stories from the Mekong.

The project will run for three years, and the researchers intend to share results along the way.

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For more information, contact Holtgrieve at gholt@uw.edu or 206-616-7041.