My first (and so far, only) experience with mangosteens was in Borneo on the way to AntCourse. We interrupted the eight-hour drive to Maliau Basin Station in a small market town to buy supplies. On a whim, I bought a bag of mangosteens from a vendor on the street. I doubt most readers have seen or eaten a mangosteen, so here is my description: a mangosteen is like a small orange, except that its exterior is not orange but purplish red, and like the orange, the sectional nature of the fruit is not visible without peeling. Unlike the orange, the peel is very thick and stains your fingers red, exposing sections that are white, unlike the orange sections of an orange. So, I guess the mangosteen is not very much like an orange after all, except that there are sections, and they develop from the same part of the ovary as an orange.
The moment I separated one of these sections and ate it, I was hooked, and from that moment on, I guarded my precious supply of mangosteens jealously, rationing my limited supply to last as long as possible by eating them only as a special treat. I am not proud of not sharing with my fellow instructors, but there you have it. Mangosteens were my drug of the moment.
Because AntCourse emphasizes ant identification and systematics, there is always a liberal sprinkling of periods when I have no duties. I feel nevertheless that I should be present in the lab, available to consult with students, though I have no convincing theory about why that should be so. I fill these times by working on drawings of whatever local plants I find attractive. Sometimes I sneaked back to my room for a fix of mangosteen.
One day, dangling over one of the many hillside staircases, there was a tree that at first impression offered complex flowers within easy reach. On closer inspection, these turned out to be fruits that burst open into a flower-like starburst of sections, each with one or two bright red seeds. The seeds of this Dillenia excelsa did not remain long, and as there were none on the walkway below, I assumed some animal ate them. The sectional nature of the fruit made it look a lot like a mangosteen burst open to reveal the sections, but I think I had mangosteens on the brain by then, for the tree turned out to be in another, although allied, family. In any case, drawing this fruit kept me busy for three days, during which time I ate the last of my mangosteens and went into severe withdrawal symptoms.
Being your student in the 2014 Ant Course, this post truly hits home, Walter! I fondly remember eating my way through all the mangosteens, rambutans, longans (fittingly called dragon's eye), langsats, salaks, and tarap (a local relative of jackfruit with a fantastic creamy texture) at the market in Kota Kinabalu. I even tried sneaking a fresh durian into my hotel after the course - only to be swiftly stopped by the ever-watchful front desk staff. Thanks for sharing this note!
As a former student from 1975-76, your writings always make me smile and remember why I love all parts of biology. Thank you for putting your writing and art out into the world. So many appreciate it!