In the early 1980s, biologist Eliza Maria Xavier Freire ventured into the forests surrounding Natal, the state capital of Rio Grande do Norte, to collect lizards and snakes — an activity that was seen as the exclusive preserve of men at the time. Despite suffering from prejudice, she became nationally renowned in herpetology — the study of reptiles and amphibians — especially in animals from the Caatinga (a semiarid scrubland biome) and the Atlantic Forest in the Northeast.
Since earning her master’s degree in the early 1980s, she has identified eight new species of amphibians, snakes, and lizards — one of them measuring just three centimeters (cm) — and helped show that the biodiversity of the herpetofauna in the Northeast of Brazil is greater than previously thought. Together with her team, she also described new behaviors, such as a lizard species that stays with the female after mating to ward off other males.
Herpetology
Institution
Federal University of Rio Grande do Norte (UFRN)
Educational background
Degree in biological sciences from UFRN (1982), master’s degree in zoology from the Federal University of Paraíba (1988), and PhD in zoology from the National Museum at the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro (2001)
The herpetologist completed her training, which began in the Northeast, with periods in São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro, collaborating with respected experts in her field. She taught and trained junior researchers at the Federal University of Alagoas (UFAL) and the Federal University of Paraíba (UFPB) before returning to UFRN as a professor in 2001, where she continues to work to this day. The amphibian and reptile collection room at the UFAL museum is named in her honor, in recognition of the work she did there.
The enthusiastic, talkative, and joyful researcher lives with her two adult children, and gave the following interview via video call at the beginning of June.
Forty years have passed since you did your master’s degree on lizards. What has changed in herpetology in that time?
Herpetology in the Northeast of Brazil and other regions has advanced significantly. There have been problems, but progress. Me, Miguel Trefaut Urbano Rodrigues from USP [University of São Paulo], and many other researchers have shown that the biodiversity of reptiles and amphibians in the Northeast is much greater than previously thought. I visited the dunes of the São Francisco River with Miguel a few times — reptiles are endemic there, especially lizards [see Pesquisa FAPESP issues 57 and 169]. The Murici forest in Alagoas is another center of endemism. It’s amazing. Of the eight new species I described, six are from there. One of them is endemic: the Murici pit viper, Bothrops muriciensis. The first species I discovered and described is one of the smallest lizards in the world, the smallest in South America, and is endemic here in Rio Grande do Norte: Coleodactylus natalensis, measuring 3 cm. I was very young when I found it, still doing my master’s degree, but I only described it in 1999. I found the lizard for the first time in Parque das Dunas state park, which is composed of sand dunes and restingas [a type of tropical forest that forms on sandbanks], interspersed with other types of forest. It’s part of the Atlantic Forest, which ends at Touros beach, 80 kilometers [km] north of Natal. There is a hypothesis that the Atlantic Forest predates the dunes and became exposed when the sea level was much lower than it is today. The dunes were formed over thousands of years by winds blowing across the beach and waves moving sand from the seabed. When you walk around the park, you can see the sand burying the forest, as if the dunes had actually appeared later.
Me and many other researchers have shown that the biodiversity of reptiles and amphibians in the Northeast is much greater than previously thought
What was it like working in a role that was occupied solely by men?
In the 1980s, when I started, catching lizards and snakes in the forest wasn’t for women. Nowadays there are many female herpetologists, but it wasn’t like that back then. Here in the Northeast, even less so. I went with a professor — a physician who was passionate about biology — called Adalberto Varela-Freire. He bred snakes. We share the same surname, but we are not related. Because we often visited the dunes together just the two of us, there was a lot of gossip about me going into the forest with a man. The older generation of professors were very sexist, and if there was a problem, it was always the woman who was to blame. But things have changed. Today women get together and stand up for each other. Anyway, to go back to what I was saying: Adalberto was a very generous but very shy person. Our first field trip was to Parque das Dunas, which still functions as an open-air laboratory in front of the university. I collected some lizards, then we went to the forests in Santa Cruz [a region in Rio Grande do Norte, 116 km from the capital].
Was this sexism restricted to rural areas?
No. I was a professor at UFAL at the same time as I was doing my PhD at the UFRJ National Museum. I was warmly welcomed, especially by my advisor, Ulisses Caramaschi, but I experienced discrimination, despite already being a professor at a federal university. Another thing that has changed in the last 40 years is that the opportunities afforded to women have increased significantly. In January, I was appointed president of the Brazilian Society of Herpetology (the SBH). I am the second female president, succeeding Denise Rossa-Feres, an amphibian specialist. Now there are working groups comprising only women and they all help each other. In 2020, we published an article together in Brazilian Herpetology, one of the SBH’s journals, contesting a scientist from outside Brazil who said that if women have succeeded in this field, it’s because they were advised by men. When we saw that, we were livid.
What are your plans for the SBH?
We are planning many inclusive activities in partnership with other members of the board. One is to encourage students, starting at undergraduate level, to join together to follow research on herpetology in Brazil and even publish in the society’s main journal, the South American Journal of Herpetology. Another is to expand our mini-courses on reptiles and amphibians for elementary and high school teachers. We started offering these at the end of last year, with 42 municipalities participating across the country. They are in-person courses, with animals on display and everything. The classes are led by undergraduate, master’s, doctorate, and postdoctorate students working with researchers from participating institutions. Experiencing these situations is part of their training.
You also worked in environmental conservation?
When I left UFAL and moved to Natal from Maceió, I saw that there were only two postgraduate programs at the UFRN’s Biosciences Center at the time, one in psychobiology and the other in biochemistry. In Alagoas, there was the regional postgraduate program in environmental development (PRODEMA), which UFRN was not a part of. I started promoting PRODEMA, and together with researchers from the biological, human, and social sciences, we developed a program proposal that was approved by CAPES [the Brazilian Federal Agency for Support and Evaluation of Graduate Education]. I ran the program for 13 years, until 2018. I said that I would leave my post only when the program was fully established. By bringing together people from biology and the human sciences, we have studied important environmental problems and transformations. One of them is that Rio Grande do Norte is full of wind turbines. People talk about clean energy and nature conservation, but do you know the extent of the devastation they have caused? It impacts the environment. I’ll give you an example: it’s difficult to collect amphisbaenia species in the field. In Brazil they are known as two-headed snakes, but they are not actually snakes and they do not have two heads. They are somewhere between a lizard and a snake, they live underground, and they are relatively difficult to find in the wild. Not long ago, a former student of mine who works at an environmental consultancy company brought 84 injured and dead amphisbaenians that he rescued from an area where the ground was being dug up to install more wind turbines. And people still say that clean energy has no environmental impact.
Raul Sales / UFRN | Marco Freitas / ICMBioSpecies described by Eliza Freire: the tiny lizard Coleodactylus natalensis and the Murici pit viper Bothrops muriciensisRaul Sales / UFRN | Marco Freitas / ICMBio
Is there anything you would highlight about your group’s research into reptile behavior?
We have done very interesting work on diet, food seeking, body temperature regulation, and reproduction. We have made a lot of progress, especially in the Caatinga with the PELD [Long-Term Ecological Research] program, which is funded by the CNPq [Brazilian National Council for Scientific and Technological Development]. One study I would highlight is our research on saxicolous tropidurid lizards [from the Tropiduridae family]. Saxicolous means they live among large rocks — when it’s cold, they flatten their bodies against the rocks to absorb as much of the heat stored within them as possible. When the sun gets higher in the sky, they hide. If any do choose to stay out in the sun, they stand on the tips of their toes with their bodies arched away from the heat source, because they cannot regulate their own body temperature. The research was described in the theses of Leonardo Ribeiro and Miguel Kolodiuk. Another example: Raul Sales, a student who has been with me since he was an undergraduate and who recently completed his postdoctorate, studied the reproduction process of a lizard known as a Spix’s whiptail (Ameivula ocellifera). He observed that when a male knows a female is in a burrow, he rubs his cloaca and the ventral region of his hind legs, which contain pores like gland openings, until the female comes out, probably attracted by the smell. Then the reproduction ritual begins. The male bites the skin behind the female’s neck, she raises her tail, and he everts his hemipenis and inserts it into her cloaca. After copulation, the male stays with the female to prevent other males from approaching.
You and your colleagues have also studied the ecology of the Caatinga, including bromeliads. What did you find most interesting?
I supervised the PhD of Jaqueiuto Jorge, who studied the herpetofauna of the rupicolous bromeliad [Encholirium spectabile], a thorny bromeliad species that does not accumulate water internally and lives on exposed rocks in the semiarid region. The results were extraordinary, especially regarding amphibians, which depend on these plants for shelter and reproduction. We also collected data on birds and arthropods — bees in particular — and we saw that these bromeliads promote biodiversity and act as ecosystem engineers. They are also widely used by people in local communities, both to feed livestock during dry periods and dried to make handcrafted products.
Why are herpetology animals, especially amphibians, generally looked down on by people who don’t study them?
It’s a cultural problem — it’s usually due to fear or disgust. It’s a shame, because there has been a significant loss of amphibian and reptile species diversity worldwide due to habitat loss, disease, and climate change. In class, I put on a big show to teach students that they do much more good than harm, since they feed on insects and rodents. They are a natural form of biological pest control. Students leave my classes with a different outlook.
How did you arrive at the Butantan Institute at the beginning of your research career?
Adalberto never left Natal. Other students were graduating and he didn’t even want to do a master’s degree in biology, despite really enjoying the subject, simply because of his shyness. But he had credibility because of the work he had already done. Before him, only José Santiago Lima-Verde (1945–2019) from UFC [the Federal University of Ceará] had really studied reptiles in the Northeast, especially snakes. In 1981, Adalberto was invited to participate in the first international conference on snakes and venomous arthropods at the Butantan Institute. I was doing my undergraduate degree at the time. When I saw the poster and the invitation, I asked if he planned to go, but he didn’t want to leave Natal. He suggested that I go instead, and I agreed. The problem was how. I didn’t have a scholarship, but I managed to buy a bus ticket, although I can’t remember how. It took three days to get to São Paulo. There were more researchers than students at the conference. I sat closer to the younger people, and that’s how I met Pedro Federsoni Júnior, who later became director of the Butantan Institute museum. I started a conversation and told him why I was there, and he said, “You’re brave — you came alone.” I took the opportunity to ask him about Alphonse Richard Hoge [1912–1982], a Brazilian of French heritage who was the biggest name in herpetology at the time. I wanted to speak to him to ask for an internship. Pedro pointed him out, and during a break I introduced myself and told him that my dream was to do an internship at Butantan. He looked at me carefully and then agreed to help, because he was impressed by the courage I showed in approaching him to ask. I secured the internship, but I couldn’t start immediately because I was going to graduate at the end of that year. I went back to Natal, where I found that the university was planning to award a cash prize to the best student and the best undergraduate dissertation. I had six months to go, and I decided to pursue these awards. And I did it. On the day of my graduation, I received my bachelor’s degree in biology, a distinction for placing first for my monograph on accidents involving venomous animals in the Borborema Potiguar microregion and surrounding areas, the cash prize, and a medal for student merit. I still have it today. With the prize money, I was able to buy a plane ticket. But I still had to think about how to support myself during the three-month internship in São Paulo.
In the 1980s, when I started, catching lizards and snakes in the forest wasn’t for women
What was the solution?
The day after I graduated, with my monograph and certificates in hand, I went to talk to the dean of student affairs. I told her I’d been invited to do an internship at Butantan, but there was no way I could afford to live in São Paulo. He said, “I can get help. Just for three months.” So I went. There was a wonderful technician at Butantan, Joaquim Cavalheiro [1930–2020], who taught us so much. I would arrive at 7:30 a.m. to identify snakes, take care of them, whatever was necessary. When the internship was finished, I went to Dr. Hoge’s office to say goodbye. He suggested I stay longer, but I didn’t have a scholarship. I had heard about [Paulo Emílio] Vanzolini [1924–2013], who was working at USP’s Zoology Museum, and I decided to speak to him about the possibility of an internship or him supervising my master’s degree. When I got there, I was met by Vanzolini’s assistant, Regina Spieker, who told me that because I hadn’t made an appointment, I wouldn’t be able to talk to him that day. But she gave me a suggestion: “Look, you’re from the Northeast and Vanzolini’s best doctoral student, Miguel Trefaut Rodrigues, is finishing his course now and then he’s going to spend some time as a professor at UFPB, studying the animals there. See if you can do your master’s degree with him.” I went to Paraíba and enrolled on a postgraduate course in zoological systematics [classification]. It was the only way to really get to know Miguel. I was accepted, got a scholarship from CNPq, moved there, and spent three months on the course. When I was finishing, I spoke to Miguel and he asked me why I hadn’t applied for the master’s program, which would start in two months. I said, “If you want, I can start working on a cool topic right away.” He responded, “Ok then, so go home and write a proposal.” I stayed up all night writing a research proposal that focused on Parque das Dunas, explaining that I had already collected some interesting lizards there. Miguel’s eyes lit up when he read it, because it was exactly what he was looking for.
How did you take the course without money?
I applied and was accepted for a master’s degree at UFPB, and I received a scholarship from CNPq. I was Miguel’s first master’s student. Once the project started, he announced that we would visit the Ponta de Campina restinga [in Greater João Pessoa], one of the areas I was studying. When we got there, he set up a can and handed me a loaded pistol. “Shoot.” I had never fired a gun in my life, but I had to learn because that’s how we were going to catch some of the larger lizards — with an environmental license, of course — while for smaller ones we used traps. I shot at the can and hit it. He moved the can further away. I said, “I don’t know if I can do it, that was my first ever shot.” He said, “And? If you miss, you miss. Let’s do it.” I don’t know how, but I made the shot again. “Okay, starting next week a university car will drop you off here in the morning and pick you up at five o’clock in the afternoon.” About six months later, Miguel returned to USP. I was a little overwhelmed and anxious about starting my work. So I finished the research and then went back to São Paulo and continued my work from Miguel’s office. I finished my dissertation there, then came back and defended it at UFPB. Later, I took the entrance exam for UFAL and passed.
What did you do there?
In Alagoas, the Atlantic Forest was everywhere you looked, and I wanted to know if there were species of lizards that lived there and nowhere else. I found a student who knew the forests well and spent about four years working there, during which time I described six new species. I became something of an expert in the Atlantic Forest. But after returning from my PhD at the beginning of 2001, I asked for a transfer to UFRN. Before starting my doctorate, I had separated from my husband. I was 33 or 34 years old, with a four-year-old daughter and a two-year-old son. I had started my PhD and couldn’t take them with me — they stayed with my mother. She asked how much time it would take; I told her I needed a year to complete the course in Rio de Janeiro. I suffered a lot, but they suffered much more, because my mother was old-school. Her upbringing was different — stricter. Before leaving UFAL, I created the herpetology collection at the university’s Natural History Museum. When the museum turned 20, they honored me by naming it the “Professor Eliza Freire Juju Room.” Everyone calls me Juju because of a character in the 1973 soap opera O bem-amado.
Why did you do your PhD at the National Museum?
I really wanted to continue with Miguel, but the selection process at the National Museum was a semester earlier than USP’s. My priority was to choose what would bring the greatest benefit to my life. My supervisor was Ulisses Caramaschi, who did his PhD under Paulo Vanzolini at the same time as Miguel. And I stayed close to Miguel — he was on my examination board. I am very grateful to both of my supervisors.
Everyone sat around one big table, from the 1st to the 8th grade, and the teacher talked about different topics with different students
When did you first grow interested in reptiles and amphibians?
My interest in lizards and snakes started while I was collecting animals with Adalberto in the dunes and in Santa Cruz. But my passion today is lizards. I was born in Pendências, a small town in the interior of Rio Grande do Norte, into a typical family from the Northeast — very poor and with seven children. My father was a salt worker and my mother was a housewife. We had to live in the rural forest because my father only made enough money to rent a shack, which used to be a small store, in the district of Logradouro. On one side of the old sales counter was a hammock, on the other side was another, two of us kids would share a bed in another space, and he and my mother slept in the kitchen. In the mornings, the rising sun would shine through a hole in the wall. My parents passed away last year, six months apart. They lived together for 66 years. They always said, “The only way for the child of a poor man to be equal with the child of a rich man is through education.” Life was difficult, food was scarce at times, but they encouraged us to study. Five of us went to university. Only the two youngest stopped studying to get married.
Was it possible to study in Pendências?
I went to elementary school in the village of Logradouro. The school was actually a large house owned by a traditional family, one of whom was a teacher. Everyone sat around one big table, from the 1st to the 8th grade, and the teacher talked about different topics with different students. My older brother went to live with my grandmother in Pendências to get a better education. When I finished elementary school, I told my mother that I wanted to take the entrance exam for the middle school in Pendências. I did the exam full of confidence and passed. It was a night school, so during the day I helped my aunt, who lived nearby and was a teacher, to take care of my grandmother on my father’s side, who was blind and paralyzed. My aunt taught me how to write a lesson plan in my notebook. I learned how to teach from her. Whenever my grandmother got sick, I took my aunt’s place at the school. My brothers were already at the middle school, and my mother decided that we would have to move in order to go to high school. We moved to the nearby city of Macau, the largest salt producer in the state. My father got a better job at a salt mine there, and my mother sold perfumes to help pay the rent. In Macau, the only technical courses available were accounting for men and teacher training for women. I don’t know where I got the idea from, but I told my mother that I didn’t want to do either of those things. I wanted to be a scientist.
What did you do?
I was lucky. An uncle who was a salesman had invited my older brother to work and live with him in Natal while he studied at a scientific school, which was what interested me. But my brother didn’t want to go. I heard the conversation, so I turned to my mother and said, “Since he doesn’t want to go, I want to. Ask if uncle will take me.” My uncle accepted. In the 1970s, public schools were wonderful, but there was enormous competition to get a place. Parents lined up overnight. My mother went and did the same, and she got me in. I studied at night and worked in a sugar sales office in the day. While preparing for the entrance exam, a cousin invited me to stay at her house so that we could study for it together. We met a friend who had studied at the same school a year ahead of us and had passed in biological sciences. I asked her “What do you plan to do?” “Ah, I’m going to be a scientist,” she replied. Simple. My cousin and I went into the biological sciences, but in different directions: she did a teaching degree for primary and secondary education, and I did a bachelor’s degree more geared toward research. I spent a year living in university accommodation for low-income students. After that, my father retired and my mother convinced him to move to Natal, so I moved back in with them. To avoid throwing money away on rent, my mother got a mortgage on a house in a residential complex in Ponta Negra, which is now an upscale area of the city. My father complained. “You’re crazy, that place is for rich people.” “Do you want to live on the north side? No way. I want a good environment for my children,” my mother replied. “How are we going to afford it?” he asked. “By working,” was the answer. My father had no income to secure the mortgage, but my brother was already working. Together, they got the loan.
