A visit to an unique rock art site, called Driekopseiland, revealed a level of spirituality in the First People of Africa that I don’t believe has been appreciated before. What follows is a testimony.

It’s hard not to feel the power of the place when you first step on the smooth bed of the Riet River. And when you start to discover the etchings – 3500 of them concentrated over a hundred square metres – you realise that this was one very important location to the people who scratched at the rock 1300 years ago.

As one discovery leads you onto another and another you get drawn into its mystery as surely as if you were in the curve of its vortex.

According to David Morris, Head of Archealogy at the McGregor Museum, more than 90% of the engravings are ‘geometric’ motifs. “Such images are present, and often common, at a significant number of engraving sites in the region but nowhere in the area do they occur in such numbers and density relative to figurative engravings, nor in quite so singular a locality,” he says.

So what’s so special about this site?

It took me a while to figure it out.

Most people will recognise the symbols engraved on the rock as archetypal. There are mandalas, and spirals and phallic-looking rockets. Then there are chevrons and a variety of other signs that can best be described as shooting stars. Sun images with internal and external ray lines are prolific, as are elliptical images with horizontal and vertical lines inside. There are quadrants with internal squares, like a noughts and crosses board, as well as cloud-like balloons. Parallel lines, with a single perpendicular line running through the middle of them, is also a common motif. And there are multiple combinations of all these. The sheer numbers are staggering.

But it was only when David Morris drew an image in the alluvial sand of a grouping of images that was submerged during our visit that my mind started to tackle the question: ‘Why this place’?

What he drew was this:

As background there are two pervasive myths in southern Africa. One is of the watersnake that, when agitated, manifests as a whirlwind. People fear the watersnake and its power, so much so that certain rivers are avoided, and when a whirlwind appears people will spit or throw a safety pin in the hope that this will protect them from its fury. Water is a symbol of the natural and of the unconscious mind – all that is yet to be discovered.

Similarly, the lightning bird appears in many stories. Lightning is the expression of the firepower of the heavens, and indirectly the sun. It is sent down during thunderstorms and has the ability to create (as in the procurement of fire) as well as destroy. Lightning is an archetypal symbol of divinity, enlightenment and consciousness.

What struck me about the symbol that David Morris drew was that it represented the fusion of the two – like the Yin and the Yang.

At the top you have a cloud-like balloon with internal dashed lines (lightning). Below you have a serpentine line with a column (whirlwind) arising from it and connecting with the cloud above. Down the middle is more lightning that looks like road markings.

To my mind this is a symbol of a very holy concept – the union of heaven and earth.

There is a parallel to the Christian credo where God sends his Son to earth whereupon, after death, He is resurrected to sit on the right hand of the Father. Here you have the two way traffic – heaven to earth and earth to heaven – told using the conduit of the individual (very much a Western concept).

At Driekopseiland the First People of Africa used the language of the natural world – lightning and whirlwind – to tell the same story.

Back to the question of why this site?

The clue is the rock itself.

As mentioned the rock occurs in the bed of the Riet River, a seasonal river, that ebbs and flows with local rains. The rock is therefore found in the territory of the watersnake. However, it is glacial rock, scoured by geological striations as prolifically as it is scratched with man-made symbols. The striations are, in fact, replicated in many of the diagrams made by people. So what do the striations represent? The ones that existed before humans made their own marks. To the ancients, I believe, they would have been interpreted as the marks of lightning.

So here in the domain of the watersnake the First People would have seen the striations as evidence of lightning merging with the watersnake.

Driekopseiland was therefore the site chosen, not by people but by God, as the place of the union of heaven and earth. Just as God chose to send his only Son to earth so he chose this place to send the power of His light to intensify the human quest for meaning. In the minds of the First People Driekopseiland could have been the equivalent of the Church of the Nativity and Church of the Holy Sepulchre rolled into one.

Hence the proliferation of holy symbols.

Other theories have been put forward as to why this site was so significant. They have to do with the menarche rites of young women. Having visited the place I don’t subscribe to this understanding for several reasons. While coming-of-age rituals are important to the communities that practice them they are not unique. If these etchings were made as part of the menarche rites of young women wouldn’t we see them elsewhere in the rock art of southern Africa? Furthermore I think the inner work, that the seclusion of menarche rituals represent, is more appealing to Westerners, as products of an extroverted civilisation dominated by masculine principles, than it is to indigenous southern Africans.

In our indigenous societies men too undergo initiation. Rites of passage are celebrated as a time of inward-turning and of potential, a time of rebirth, for both men and women.

Yet the feeling that I came away with from Driekopseiland was that it is about a unity that transcends human cycles. The Chinese call the Yin and Yang, Taijitu, which means the “diagram of ultimate power”.

The images at Driekopseiland are invocations towards this union – this holiest of holies. The etchings are a fitting tribute to the spiritual nature of the First People.

Unsurprisingly the tapping has now ceased.

Reference: Driekopseiland and ‘the rain’s magic power’: history and landscape in a new interpretation of a Northern Cape rock engraving site by David Roger Neacalbánn McIntyre Morris (2002)

Many of these ideas suggest that there is a silver bullet that will stop the carnage. The problem is too vast and wide for such a quick fix.

In traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) rhino horn is used to treat (my emphasis) inflammatory disorders, fevers and other ailments associated with toxicity and bodily heat generation. The President of the American College of Traditional Chinese Medicine (ACTCM) and Council of Colleges of Acupuncture and Oriental Medicine (CCAOM), Lixin Huang, says it is used in the treatment of fevers and carbuncles. It is also now being touted as a cure for cancer.

Since 1993 the use of rhino horn in TCM has been banned by the People’s Republic of China – a ban that has clearly been ineffective, like the CITES ban on the trade in horn. So if top-down bans don’t work perhaps we should look elsewhere?

What drives the demand? Clearly it is a traditional belief system in a part of the world that is emerging from centuries of relative isolation. Most people will tell you that cultures are difficult, if not impossible, to change. Annd yet I don’t think there is an informed person on this planet who hasn’t been surprised at the speed with which China has progressed from its ‘dark age’, embracing capitalism, consumerism and industrialisation with a fervour that is almost daemonic. The same applies to Vietnam, a country that has surfaced after decades of war and political repression, hungry for its share of globalisation’s pickings.

So why would these cultures not embrace Western medicine? Is it that Western medicine is so clearly inferior? Or is it that they have little experience of, or hindered access to, Western medicine? Niall Ferguson calls Western medicine a ‘killer app’ that has changed the world.

We see from the above that rhino horn is used as a treatment rather than a preventative. If Western treatments for inflammation and fevers were readily and cheaply available to Chinese consumers wouldn’t they embrace them as quickly as they have grasped the benefits of other aspects of the West? The same applies to cancer treatments.

I would like to know if any of the large pharmaceutical companies (domestic, international or state-owned) have explored the roll-out of anti-inflammatories in China. And, if so, what are their experiences and obstacles if any?

Their observations would be pertinent to pharmaceutical alternatives for other illegal substances used in TCM e.g. tiger and lion bones.

However, TCM seems to the least of the rhino’s problems, as the situation is rapidly changing. It is now reported that organised crime is playing a increasing role in the crisis and that the ownership of whole horns has become a status symbol.

The West is well acquainted with status symbols – a penchant the Chinese have exploited ingeniously with their copies of famous brands. Surely someone could start making fake rhino horn? It can’t be terribly difficult.

The advent of organised crime on the scene adds a sinister tone – one that we should be conscious of.

One idea being mooted is to reverse the CITES ban and allow the trade in rhino horn. I’ve written before about it here. This idea allows for a central selling organisation (CSO) to control the trade. It does not take much imagination to realise that the CSO would be a prime target for organised crime and its skills of persuasion. One could even go so far as to argue that organised crime would welcome the resumption of trade given the fact that a CSO would make its life easer. To date no-one has been able to show how one would prevent illegitimate horn getting laundered and mixed-up with legal horn.

Yet there are fundamental sea changes occuring in Asian society which point to the solutions for the problem. One is the rise of Christianity in China. Estimates put the number of practicing Christians in China at between 60 and 130 million in 2010. In some regions churches are being built at a greater rate than factories. Considering there were only half a million in 1949 this number is remarkable. Why the sudden appeal?

Christianity is thriving in China because it offers an ethical framework to people struggling to cope with a startlingly fast social transition from communism to capitalism. In the words of one Chinese scholar from Academy of Social Sciences: “The Christian moral foundation of social and cultural life was what made possible the emergence of capitalism and then the successful transition to democratic politics. We don’t have any doubt about this.”

Chinese academic, Zhuo Xinping, adds: “Only by accepting this understanding of transcendence as our criterion can we understand the real meaning of such concepts as freedom, human rights, tolerance, equality, justice, democracy, the rule of law, universality, and environmental protection.” (my emphasis).

Perhaps the distribution of the Green Bible would be a way to speed up the process of enlightenment.

What we need is a coherent strategy, one that considers all aspects of the problem and envisages consequences, both long term and short term. We must also ensure that remedies are appropriate to the rapid changes occurring in the buyer countries.

A net of actions – including better policing, greater punishments for transgressors, the availability of effective alternatives to TCM, together with educational programmes on the value of biodiversity – is required.  Above all political will, both here and in the East, is needed.

This issue is bigger than the rhino. It’s about protecting Africa’s heritage. It’s about not being a doormat. It’s about leading the way to enlightenment.

What rhino don’t need are quaint remedies that serve the interests of a small group by reducing the problem to a simple cause.

Reference:  ”Civilization – the West and the Rest”, Niall Ferguson, Allen Lane, 2011 

We follow the line of the Chobe River in a westerly direction. The ribbon of blue and green stands out in contrast to the hinterland where grey scrub stretches to the curve of the horizon. From here the river deceives you that all is well in the Garden of Eden. Yet when you fly across the backcountry you realise that most of Africa’s species are not nourished by water alone – they need this bleak landscape to exist.

Looking down on skeletal woodlands it’s hard to believe that the spindles of xylem and phloem that reach up, as if in supplication for rain, can support any kind of biodiversity let alone the large biomass they do. A dark coin on the prickle-earth below proves the point when it turns out to be an elephant taking refuge beneath a naked tree. The sanctuary is too small for its great body so the hindquarters balloon out into full sunlight with the head and ears thrust into a pathetic patch of half-baked shade.

Enduring the last weeks of the dry season is an ordeal for all species. Humans call it, not-so-ironically, Suicide Month. This year the rains are late, relief long in the coming. Their tardiness underscores the necessity for real implemented change ahead of the COP17 climate change talks in Durban.

Scientists have warned that extreme weather conditions will become common and that Africa will be the hardest hit of all the continents. Although the culprits behind climate change are not African the effects will be most keenly felt here. In the drier regions droughts will be more dire while in wetter areas flooding will be an increased danger. However tempting it may be to think that this is an African problem the scenarios playing out before the entire globe are gloomy if world leaders don’t take action now.

Food security is already high on the agenda of most governments and Africa is the new darling of land-hungry nations. If arable land is compromised due to climate change the domino effect across the world will be devastating for everyone. Desperation drives destruction. No nation will be protected.

The elephants of northern Botswana know this only too well.  Along the banks of the Chobe River the forests have been destroyed, exacerbating their torment.

From up here, 2,000 feet above the parched ground, I realise what this landscape really needs, as much as it needs rain, is for world leaders to forge a new path of creation-sustaining activity. Business as usual is going to end in tears for everyone.

Born out of millenia of living at the mercy of the Earth’s vagaries, rural Africans have an innate understanding of nature. With the current environmental problems facing the planet, traditional Africa is a good place to search for the wisdom that points the way to ensuring our continued place here.

With this in mind I went looking for the Keepers of the Knowledge, the Sangomas and the Healers in rural South Africa recently.

In some cases I had an introduction, in others I went ‘blind’, receiving what synchronicity arranged.  I met many fascinating people with stories to tell. What a surprise it was to discover how willing they were to share their knowledge. It is as if there is a transcendent recognition of the chaos we are causing in the natural patterns of the only home we have.

Something else I discovered was that it would often take a couple of days of mulling over what I had heard for my mind to grasp the truth. I learned to query myself when I didn’t ‘get’ what they were saying. “What am I not understanding here?” I would ask. I then let it stew for a while, until the penny dropped.

I learned a lot.

Everywhere I went people said that wildlife was part of their heritage, their culture. They said that messing with wildlife was messing with people’s identity. One woman went so far as to say that she didn’t want to win the lotto (the reason behind the slaughter of vultures). “It is not good,” she said. “You will get bewitched.” Not only by other people, who are envious, but also by the ancestral spirits because you have meddled with the natural order of things.

On the subject of rhino, a Shangaan Sangoma told me that the rhino actually has a ‘soft’ horn when it is with other animals. It is only when it sees a human that its horn becomes hard. This is an evolved way of saying that a rhino’s sole predator is man. She went on further to explain that rhino are vengeful creatures, that they will chase a person up a tree and then dig at the base of the tree to topple it.  They would also wait many days to exact their revenge.

There is great prescience in her pronouncement. In light of the recent extinction of the Northern White Rhino, the largest mammal to have disappeared since the mammoth, and the current onslaught that the remaining species face, we hear a dire warning in this story. If we allow the rhino to go extinct we will be pushed up a tree – a tree that the rhino itself will undermine.  Retribution may not be immediate. The rhino is patient. I can’t think of a better analogy for the threat that biodiversity loss represents to humans. It is quite probable that the rhino is a key species in the collapse of the natural systems that have supported our own evolution – if not physically, then psychologically.

Another interesting take was on vulture parts.  As already mentioned, the driver behind the poisoning of vultures is the belief that by placing vulture parts, especially the brain, under your pillow you will dream the winning lotto numbers.  As the lotto is a modern phenomenon this is not a traditional belief. Like the belief that having sex with a virgin will cure AIDS, it has come about recently, particularly in the urban areas. It is an urban myth.

One man in the small town of Elim, near Makhado, told me he couldn’t understand why people thought a vulture was so special. He considered an ostrich much cleverer as they know how to distract predators away from their chicks and how to disguise themselves from attack.  An ostrich also has good eyesight and runs fast. My understanding of this is that there is a greater sense of dominion in the image of the ostrich. In other words, if people want to get ahead they must not rely on dreaming the winning numbers of the lotto, something that is totally out of their hands, they must be clever, run fast, and have good vision, just like the ostrich.

The ability to identify the necessary qualities for a successful human life so easily with the natural world confirms the affinity that many Africans have with the environment.  And should ostrich parts become the vogue for taking control of your life there are surely enough ostrich farms to supply the necessary muti  legally.

I learned much, much more about traditional beliefs, and their links with the environment, a great deal of which relates to the inner lives of Africans. I will write them down in due course. Here I share examples of the thinking of southern Africans on two of the most pressing issues affecting wildlife and the heritage of our people.

The potential for finding lasting solutions to the crises we face lies in learning to speak the language of those involved.

I love surprises. So when someone suggested that I research the subject of legalising the trade in rhino horn I leapt at it. I could see that the issue was ripe for some Edward de Bono-type thinking.

In Africa the black rhino is considered critically endangered and the white variety is listed as near threatened by the International Union of Nature Conservation. Black or white, population numbers are fragile. The primary cause of this situation is the continuous slaughter of rhinos by humans.

Some good out-of-the-box thinking could serve rhino well, I thought. Surely all it needs is some imagination and rational pragmatism.

The number one reason behind the killing is the demand for rhino horn in the East where it is used in muti of the Chinese kind. And so the fundamental question around the trade in rhino horn can be expanded to all geographical regions where traditional healers are faced with a dwindling supply of ingredients: at what point do we reconcile traditional values with modern reality? It is a question that requires deep introspection.

Cultural beliefs arise from an ancient knowledge of, and affinity with, animal species. The Chinese have a long association with rhino. The animal is associated with the Pangu Myth of transformation that first emerged in the Three Kingdoms period (220-280CE). Artefacts indicate that rhinos were celebrated as guardians of tombs.

Adult rhino are almost entirely immune to predation. When they feel threatened they use their horn as a weapon. That the horn should therefore have protective properties was an easy connection for the ancients to make. Amplified by centuries of repetition this belief still exists. The modern use of rhino horn in traditional Chinese medicine is regarded as a cure for ailments ranging from fever to cancer.

Enter the current poaching crisis and the ‘traditional’ Western culture of materialism and monetary values. The recent spike in rhino poaching has been caused by two primary factors: rising affluence in the East and the closing of loopholes in the exportation of trophies from South Africa.

CITES data for 2006-2009 indicates large discrepancies between horn exported from South Africa and amounts imported into Vietnam, for instance. There are also anomalies between the number of live animal exports and deliveries to China. One explanation that accounts for the difference is the repeated use of a single hunting permit for multiple hunts. These schemes have now been restricted.

Denied access to horn the quasi legal way Asian importers have turned to poaching to obtain their product. Coupled with increased disposable income in the East – Asian businessmen and industrialists are driving the market – the demand for horn has grown dramatically.

The danger associated with the acquisition of horn, combined with the wealth of the purchaser, has driven the wholesale price of horn up to a reported US$20,000 per kilogram. Criminal syndicates that use sophisticated equipment in slick, military-style operations are the main players. Their sheer efficacy has taken everyone by surprise. 333 animals were killed illegally in South Africa in 2010.

Naturally, private ranch owners are alarmed at the reduction in revenue this turn of events represents, and calls for the legalisation of trade in rhino horn are being heard. In South Africa 25% of the rhino population is in private hands, while the country provides a home for 82% of the total number on the continent. In other words, the owners of approximately 20% of African rhinos are raising concerns about the commercial viability of keeping them.

The idea being mooted calls for a centralised selling organisation that would control the amount and the price of horn released onto the market. It is envisaged that natural mortalities, harvested product and stockpiles would supply this structure. The financing of conservation efforts through the generated revenues is a persuasive argument in favour of the concept. Furthermore, the opportunity to profile the horn through DNA testing would ensure its legal provenance.

“The real issue for conservation is the source of supply of a particular product: was the product obtained from a source that will encourage further poaching, or does the source compete with the providers of freshly supplied (poached) product?” says Mike t’Sas-Rolfes, an environmental economist.

It all sounds very sensible in the cold light of finance.

Most entrepreneurs will tell you, however, that a fundamental precept in doing business is to minimise risk. The financial argument is but one aspect of the whole. So let’s step back and ask what the overall issue is.

“To conserve genetically viable populations of each individual species in the wild,” is one of the chief objectives of all conservationists observes ‘tSas-Rolfes.

The lesson we have learned is that a trade ban, on its own, is inadequate as a conservation measure. “There is a growing realisation that trade bans cannot be effective without the use of direct measures (such as consumer awareness campaigns) that genuinely reduce consumer demand to residual levels,” says ‘tSas Rolfes.

So would a reversal of the trade ban be the silver bullet? Would allowing limited trade satisfy consumer demand and ensure the continued existence of rhino in the wild? This is where I was really hoping for an ‘aha’ moment – one that would sweep me away with its unexpected common sense. One that would show that the risk to rhino of such a reversal was minimal.

After much grappling with the problem, looking at it every which way I could, I kept coming back to people and how we behave.

Here I couldn’t get past the muddled message that lifting the trade ban would send. On the one hand: ‘rhino horn doesn’t cure cancer – get with the programme.’ And simultaneously: ‘you can have rhino horn as long as you’re prepared to pay us for it.’ Talk about mixed signals.

Lifting the trade ban would mean endorsing the consumption of rhino horn. This would not only undermine education programmes, it could also be interpreted as: ‘as long as you are rich it’s okay to remain mired in the past.’  Something about that smacks of imperious irresponsibility, and is about as useful as a damp facecloth in dousing a roaring inferno.

Poaching is the direct and immediate problem facing rhino. Therefore direct and immediate interventions will serve the species best: greater security, better intelligence and harsher punishment for criminals. The wider solution requires simple, clear and consistent promotion: rhino horn has no curative properties, the conservation of biodiversity is essential to our own longterm survival.

So rather than try to fit a changing world into a specific bias, perhaps we should expand our thinking, and allow for the interconnection of different views and their effect upon one another.

It is appropriate that the plight of the rhino, an animal associated with transformation in the Asian mind, has come to the fore during this period of great change in Chinese and Vietnamese society. It is a symbol of a culture shift.   And it is inevitable that, with or without the existence of rhino,  the Asians will eventually learn that its horn has no place in modern medicine.  Likewise, at some point, Western culture needs to accept that not everything in life is about money.

References:

Elephants, Rhinos and the Economics of the Illegal Trade, Michael ‘tSas-Rolfes, Pachyderm No. 24 Jul-Dec 1997.

African and Asian Rhinoceroses – Status, Conservation and Trade, IUCN and TRAFFIC Report, Nov 2009.

The Okavango Delta on a warm summer’s night is an unlikely setting for a murder story. But death is in the air. It comes from afar, and is executed by people who think that what they’re doing is good.

“They kill all of us in Botswana,” Keeditse Bailang says on the subject of a call to boycott tourism to the country. Supported by charitable souls who think they’re protecting the rights of the Central Kalahari Game Reserve (CKGR) Bushmen this campaign will do the exact opposite.   If successful, it will condemn many thousands of Botswana’s people to lives of poverty.

Keeditse, or Kiddy as she is better known, is a 49 year old chef at one of the tourist camps. She comes from a humble village background where she received seven years of formal schooling.  As a MoYei (a tribe that’s lived in and around the delta for nearly 300 years) the only traditional skill that she had, to generate cash for her family, was basket-weaving.   Her lucky break came when she landed a job as a bar lady in a tourist camp. After a year she was promoted to chef.  For her the tourism industry has made all the difference.  She nows sees a future for herself and her children.

“I want to get to a higher standard of cooking. I am taking my daughter to school to learn how to cook like me.  That’s because she is not educated and I believe if she can pass that cooking course she can save her life under safaris.  Safaris are very good for people who are not educated because we can’t pass, all of us, to university,” she explains.

Kiddy teaching a tourist to weave

Seaparo Rendo is a River Bushman, of the people called the Qanikhwe.  He has also found his niche in Botswana’s tourism industry.  Somewhere in his seventies (he’s not sure when he was born) he is the epitome of good health. His barrel chest looks as if he’s been breathing in deep lungfuls of fresh, wholesome, air all his life.  Which he has.

“I grew up in a hunter-gatherer community. These communities were very close knit and family was very important. We hunted for consumption, and to sell at the meat market, which was at that time in Maun under a well-known tree.  A lot of our food came from the delta.  We dried jackalberries and ground them to eat.  Above all we were fishermen.  Fish was a very staple food for us and we had it at all meals prepared in different ways.  We had fish for tea in the morning, we mixed it with mealies or sorghum for lunch, or it was just cooked on its own.  What we enjoyed doing most of all was singing and dancing. We would do it every time we got the chance.  I wore traditional attire until I was a grown man.”

Seaparo never went to school.  As he says: “The industry found me here”.  As Chief of the staff village his knowledge and wisdom are highly regarded by all.  He describes his job as a jack-of-all-trades.

The call for a boycott saddens this wise old man. “Communities that lived in the delta long before these luxury lodges were built are now dependent on tourism.  A lot of us are directly involved and are breadwinners for our families.  My heart is not good knowing that someone would like to take away what we have worked so hard for.”

Seaparo still practices the old ways

Safari guide, Kambango Sinimbo, talks about his childhood in the bush near the Okavango Panhandle. “I grew up in a poor family. My parents were farmers. It was very difficult for me to get things like normal clothing and I would go over a year without new trousers or shoes. I grew up in a traditional house which we had to rebuild each year. We ate the same food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.   As I grew up I came to realize how hard my parents had to work for us.”

Starting out as a waiter Kambango worked his way up to the position of guide.  Several training courses and exposure to international tourists have opened his eyes to a wider world.

“When you meet people you don’t just talk about animals but you talk about ideas on how to better your life,” he says. “Now my family has a brick house that they do not need to build every year, with normal beds. We eat different and healthier foods.  Now I can provide a better growing-up for my kids.”

What does he think about the boycott?

“I feel bad about it.  If [overseas] people knew the life of our people, and realized what tourism has done for us and the country, they wouldn’t be saying such things.  If this boycott will happen it will take my life back to the beginning again.  Which means my life would stop as it would go backwards.  I feel nervous about the effect on my life very, very much.  My family is relying on me.  If I relied on farming it would not take me anywhere.”

“Stopping tourism would mean they want people to lose their jobs.  They are killing the people because most of the people rely on tourism.”

At 41 Daniel Mafikizolo is a waiter at a tourism lodge.  He explains that after getting his certificate he started work in a lodge in the small town of Kasane on the Chobe River.  He then made a strategic decision to move to the bush.

“Because in town you spend a lot of money, you have to buy food and you have to rent.  But in the bush they provide you with food and accommodation. The bush gives you the best experience to become a guide or a manager.  And I am trying very hard to end up as a manager, as this is my dream.”

His upbringing, like so many of his generation, was rural and poor and the opportunities that the tourism industry have opened up for Daniel has released him to another world.

“I can help my kids and my family without any fear.  Not like my parents who had to struggle just so that I could go to school.”

Regarding the ethics of a boycott he has this to say.

“Stopping tourism would mean they want people to lose their jobs.  They are killing the people because most of the people rely on tourism.  Those people work in all kinds of hotels, camp sites and camps.  Which means if people stopped coming there would be no life for them and no life for me.  And without tourism there is nothing I can assist my son with, which will affect him and his future.  If tourism industry stopped we would lose money and we won’t be able to help our family or our parents.  The tourism industry provides jobs for a lot of people, and in my village lots of people work in camps.”

While members of the American and European public may be unaware of the consequences of a tourism boycott, the same cannot be said of an organisation that claims to defend the world’s tribes.

We find a shady spot.   It’s September – The Month When Messengers Come – so called by the Bugakhwe because when leaving home in the cool mornings on food gathering expeditions one doesn’t anticipate the heat of midday.  Caught unprepared, someone has to be sent to the nearest settlement to ask for water.

Shengaera is a traditional healer, a repository of ancient knowledge for the Bugakhwe.  His worn face is testament to a hard life in a land where water is plentiful but opportunities for his generation were scarce.

Our presence draws a crowd of women and young children. “Where are the older boys and girls?” I ask.  “At school,” replies our interpreter.

We ask our questions and are fascinated by the stories that come forth.   They’re African versions of Aesop’s Fables, morals and ethics tightly woven  into their fabric.

Our cultural mission accomplished,  we stay awhile and chat to these engaging people. “How’s the life?” I ask in general terms.

Shengaera thinks on this and, probably drawing from the context of our earlier questions, finds a comparison to foregone times appropriate.

“Good,” he responds. “ The children go to school. There is a clinic now. The post office gives us pensions.”

It’s time to move on to another settlement in the same area.  Our interpreter introduces his mother, Dedom //Qeyexo.  She’s an elderly woman with a proud face. She sits straight legged on a blanket covering the sand, her back erect as a drill sergeant’s dream.  It’s clear she is the head of the family. We ask our questions and receive dignified answers.

Business concluded our interpreter hands over an A4 envelope to his mother.  Her face softens and lights up at the same time.  Tentatively, like she’s approaching a sacred object, she opens the envelope and slowly withdraws a certificate. She looks at her son, eyes shining with admiration.
The action brings out the neighbours. We’re not the curiosity this time.  No. It’s this symbol, this wonder of education. This certificate means so much. Not only to an individual – but to a family, a tribe, a nation.

It’s unlikely that //Qeyexo or Shengaera have ever heard of Survival International and its call for a boycott on their country’s diamonds. One has to ask what they would think if they knew their children’s future hung in the balance.

Because all of it – education, health and pensions – is paid for with diamonds.

“You must do the elephants, they’ve been the highlight of our whole trip,” urge the Americans as we step onto the airstrip, a ribbon of highground surrounded by the blue-green carpet of the Okavango Delta.

At dinner we meet Doug Groves, director of Grey Matters, an education-based eco-tourism company. Soft-spoken and diffident, with the demeanor of a true gentle-man, Doug tells us he has been the human element of the elephant partnership for the better part of twenty two years. It becomes apparent that Doug’s benign nature makes him an obvious candidate for a pachyderm calling.

Doug’s relationship with the elephants began when he adopted two orphans, Jabu and Thembi, from a Kruger Park cull in 1988. They were two years old and deeply traumatized. Love and attention were lavished on the pair so that now, as twenty-four year olds, they are well-adjusted and accomplished wildlife ambassadors.

The third elephant, Morula, is a Zimbabwean orphan with a sad history. Already seventeen years old when she met Doug she’s been the recipient of extra ministrations to alleviate her emotional pain.

“It took ages to build up a trusting relationship with Morula,” says Doug. “In the beginning we had to use Jabu and Thembi as intermediaries.”

It is in the role of emissaries that the trio provide a powerful yet humbling experience for humans.

The next day we meet the team and from the moment we see, smell and hear the grey hulks foraging peacefully in the wild, we are overcome by wonder. While we stand by quietly observing these examples of life’s diversity we realise they are not out to harm us.

Gradually, in the most agreeable way, Doug introduces us to the elephants. One by one we are invited to go up and touch their textured bodies and commune through all our senses with them.

“Jabu loves toes,” says Doug as the snouty end of the elephant’s proboscis gently plays around my feet. Looking down I realise this is a greeting. For a brief moment I wish to have a nose in my toes so that I can return his hallo, Eskimo-style.

Standing over three metres tall with probably another metre to grow, Jabu’s presence is overwhelming, to say the least. As you stand beneath his massive head you realise that all it would take is one small flick of his trunk, or one stomp of his dustbin-lid sized foot, or one shake of annoyance from his head … and you’d be hamburger.

It is in this utter commitment to trust that you begin to understand what they, elephants and other wildlife, must feel in their relationship with humanity. For at this moment the shoe is on the other foot.

By entrusting your safety to them, and knowing that in this submission you are asking for their tolerance and consideration, you begin to understand with emotional intelligence the vulnerability of all non-human life at the present time in evolution.

What it feels like to be at the mercy of another species has an important part to play in the transformation of human consciousness. From the experience we are in a better position to transfer that understanding to others. The projection of compassion onto other species, large and small, will save us in the end.  We cannot survive alone as a monospecies on an earth we are busy trampling in so cavalier a manner.

It is in this utter commitment to trust that you begin to understand what they, elephants and other wildlife, must feel in their relationship with humanity.

This appreciation deepens as Doug takes you through aspects of elephant biology and the impact that biodiversity loss is having on all life on the planet.

Interspersed through the morning’s learning are little games, (to keep the elephants’ attention from waning, naturally) as well as a concert performed by the wind section of the OPO (Okavango Philharmonic Orchestra).

Notably, and in contrast to other elephant tourism products, no riding of the animals takes place. The Elephant Experience is not about man’s supremacy over the beasts, it is about respect and understanding between species.

As a new awareness rises that man and nature are not separate, but interconnected in ways we don’t yet fully understand, Jabu, Thembi and Morula provide a lasting emotional bridge across the great species divide.

www.livingwithelephants.org

Lion King - Guardian of People

Light, as we know, is the opposite of darkness and in psychological terms it represents consciousness – that elusive awareness that connects us to the universal intelligence.

This association with a higher plane of existence is further reinforced by the fact that lions are often represented at the side of earthly manifestations of divinity e.g. goddesses, pharoahs, kings. They appear as guardians of these divine mortals.

So in the mirror of a rapidly decreasing wild lion population we obtain insight into our own current level of consciousness or, rather, lack thereof.

But first let’s go back to ancient Greece where the stories of Heracles and Androcles represent a transition from lion hero to lion king. Heracles needs to prove his hero status with a series of twelve labours, the first of which is to slay a lion, and wear its pelt as proof of his prowess. In the story of Androcles however, Androcles proves to be a man of greater stature, as he doesn’t need to slay the beast to prove anything. His heightened consciousness represents a more developed emotional landscape where the lion is befriended. Later this act saves Androcles from certain death.

There is a long tradition of lion shamanism in Africa. The first stage of initiation into this spiritual practice is the facing up to the lion. The second step is the assumption of the man-lion identity i.e. befriending it. The same theme of lion hero transforming into lion king appears across many cultures.

This metamorphosis, from one to the other, is important in the modern context.  Are we ready, as human beings, to move beyond proving our supremacy over the rest of Nature? Are we ready to befriend the Earth? If the story of Androcles is followed this act will save us.

As apex predators lions are indicators of the health of the biological system that supports them. Sick and dying lions indicate a sick and dying biological system – the very same system that gave rise to the human species and that humanity, too, is dependent upon. That lions can be seen as guardians of the natural system, and therefore of humanity, is an easy symbolic connection to make.

It is therefore significant that some Maasai, long known for their culture of lion-heroism, have renewed themselves as lion kings. The Lion Guardians programme is an enlightened initiative that aims to save lions. However, it is in the tendrils of light piercing the darkness of our neglect that this programme will prove to be a paving stone on the spiritual path to saving humanity.

Eleven years ago the Calitz family arrived with the intention of raising their young family in rural freshness. They soon realised that the reality of life for the people of the valley was completely out of synch with this dream. “Maid, Spade or Fade,” is how Erika Calitz describes the opportunities available for locals. Combined with the emotional legacy of apartheid, these limitations rendered feelings of futility and inadequacy among the inhabitants. As a result dysfunctional behaviour flourished.

It all began with a boy named Alfonso.

Alfonso was a loiterer. He hung around the farm watching the family’s every move. As time went by the Calitzes became accustomed to his habitutal presence, until one day the police arrived looking for him. The result: Alfonso was placed with the Calitz family as an alternative to going to juvenile prison. During the three years he lived with them, he went back to school, became a prefect and was much loved by fellow students and teachers. Since then Alfonso has flourished into a fine young man.

Alfonso set the stage. Over the years other youngsters have lived with the Calitz family, either voluntarily or placed with them through social welfare or the correctional services.

Understanding the desperate need for emotional anchorage, the Calitzes started holding casual meetings on Wednesday nights for the youth of the valley. They sat on the floor of their living room, shared stories, listened to music and sometimes watched inspiring movies – Forrest Gump was a favourite. Soon many parents started joining, and eventually, singing and praying also became part of the evening’s format.

But the Wednesday meetings weren’t enough. To give these kids a real chance hope was needed. Thus the idea of a guided hiking trail over the massive and daunting Swartberg was born. At an average of over 2,000m high the range is a fitting symbol for the emotional mountains these youngsters take on.

Amidst much scepticism and downright obstructionism – “we survived death threats, stones lobbed at our cars, offensive and abusive language” – the Donkey Trail started in 2008. It’s a two day hike into a remote valley called Gamkaskloof.   All the male staff are local. From camp hands to donkey trainers, lead guides to donkey operators they’ve all attended, at one time or another, the Wednesday meetings at the Calitz home.

The obvious attractions of the trail (a world biodiversity hotspot, spectacular scenery and quirky history) ensure a steady stream of travellers, yet it is the palliative effect on damaged psyches that charms those who delve deeper. To hear a stutter of uncertainty turn into a clear, confident reply in just two days is heartwarming. “It’s rehab for my body, mind and soul,” explains Franklin Dido, a guide.

Moreover, this is a world class tourism experience. Attention to detail merges with thorough training and excellent equipment to ensure a high level of safety and enjoyment. It’s an example of empowerment tourism that really works.

There have been many challenges of course, but the lads are now looking beyond tomorrow, into a deeper brighter future. Interests in studying nature conservation, ornithology and rock art have been expressed, as has the wish to learn more about business management and tent and tack making.

As Erika Calitz says, “We cannot take our guides to the world, but we are bringing the world to them.” Each trail, each interaction, no matter how compassionate or difficult the guest might be, is a valuable lesson in the personal journeys of these young men.