This post was written by Tara Meyer and originally posted on her blog. It’s got some good stuff on there, you should definitely check it out! Without further ado, here’s "Why am I here":
I am sweating as I lean my back against a brick and mud hut in Ndeya* Village, the shade from the roof reaches out over the dirt and barely shields us from the worst of the afternoon sun. A group of nine young children sit in the dirt beside Sarah, Julius, and I, and though they are rustling around energetically, some are watching intently and listening to us work. The man we are interviewing beckons to his wife, who is also sitting against the hut listening, and he tells us she has TB. Chickens and tiny chicks scuffle around our feet in the dirt, chirping and pecking at grass and seeds, occasionally bravely venturing between our circle of legs. I resist the urge to scoop one up with my hand, and refocus on the interview.
Sarah and Julius are conducting longer "semi-structured" interviews in several new villages around Ruaha National Park. The purpose is to gain a baseline of information about attitudes, major challenges to farming and life in general, and knowledge about wildlife. While Sarah does the interviewing and note taking, Julius is translating. Sarah has invited me along to observe and learn, and I am a sponge – absorbing everything I see, hear and feel.
The man we have chosen this afternoon is telling us how he feels about living near Ruaha National Park. We have spoken with six other people already today, each interview lasting around 45-60 minutes (with the exception of one man who we stopped interviewing when we realized he had already had too much pombe – the local alcohol). Almost every person we interviewed was either born in Ruaha National Park and were moved out when the park was established in 1964, or are the children of someone who was born in Ruaha National Park.
The two biggest problems that these villagers have mentioned that are preventing them from making money or making their life good are low rainfall and problems with animals destructing or raiding their crops. Elephants are a major problem (they love to eat rice, maize and melons, but will eat pretty much anything). But bush pigs, monkeys, and mice are also problematic. Despite the problems they cause, elephants and other wildlife seem to be well liked among the villagers we have talked to. The majority of people I have observed being interviewed both here in Ndeya and in Manyoni* Village in Pawaga District have said that they like elephants and they want them to be around so future generations can also see them.
A high number of people also admit to frequently running out of food, usually around the end of the dry season before the rainy season and the harvest (the end of the harvest-year). Some people get help (food) from their children or neighbors, but some go to sleep hungry, or eat only one small meal a day. I have been told that this year had a very low rainfall, and several of the past few years have also been low, which definitely has caused the level of crop production and harvests to drop. But imagine working hard on your shamba (farm) and making it through a less-than-average-rainy season, only to loose your entire harvest to a herd of hungry elephants.
I have also observed a lot of misconceptions among the villagers we have spoken to about how to solve these conflicts with wildlife, especially elephants. A man this morning told us that if he were to kill one elephant at their farm, he thought the other elephants would be afraid and not come back to that farm. Unfortunately, almost the opposite is true: this practice does not necessarily deter them, and to make matters worse, if an elephant is killed in a village or on a farm and then that group of elephants is seen to raid again, they will likely be more aggressive and dangerous. Another example of general misunderstanding of how ecology, wildlife populations, and national parks function has come up several times when villagers say that they want elephant populations inside the park to increase because they like them. But at the same time they say they don’t want elephants leaving the park to come to their farms and destroy crops. While these people do recognize that if populations of elephants inside the park increase they will need to look elsewhere for food, the first place these hungry elephants come to are the farms of people who are living right outside the park; they unfortunately don’t know how to resolve this major issue.
With so many misconceptions and challenges, the task of mitigating conflict and working to both protect elephants and other wildlife while improving the livelihoods of people living around Ruaha is no small feat. But in my humble opinion, Sarah and Julius are absolutely right that the first place to start is with interviewing people in these villages and asking them what makes life hard, what would make it better, and probing into the real reasons for people’s conflict with animals.
The most enjoyable part of each interview comes at the end when Julius shows each villager a series of animal photos on flashcards and asks them to identify it. People really love to see the pictures, and they are often passed around to curious onlookers. Surprisingly, even though many people have never or rarely seen (in person) most of the animals Julius shows, people often can identify their favorites such as elephants, giraffe, zebra and hippo. I am also impressed by the number of people in Ndeya Village who correctly identified the rhino picture, though rhinos have been extinct in Ruaha for 30 years. Some of the people are old enough to have seen rhinos in the park as children, so it serves as a gentle reminder of the permanence of species extinction. There is a trick card in the mix too, a photo of a tiger, and I always enjoy seeing the villagers react to that photo when Julius tells them that it isn’t a leopard but is called a tiger, is found only in Asia and is bigger than a lion!
At the end of our interview, the sun has cooled off and the man thanks us for visiting him in his home. As we go to leave, he rushes out of his house with a gift for us: four eggs fresh from one of his chickens. After just having told us that he can barely afford to feed his family one meal per day, Sarah and I are at first shocked and try to respectfully decline the gift but the man insists. His generosity is touching, and I search my bag for something to give him and come up only with a partially melted double chocolate protein bar. He accepts it with a huge grin and places it safely in his shirt pocket.
A herd of cows and goats move noisily through the tall, dry grass and corn stalks behind the hut, watched over by two young Barabag herders wrapped in dark purple and black robes. Sarah, Julius and I say our thanks to the man and his family, wave to the children, and then make our way back down the rust-red road to the piki piki which will take us home. As we walk, I am incredibly grateful for both having been born into a family and society where I am able to eat until I am full, and for being able to visit such a beautiful and culturally rich place and treated with incredible generosity. This is why I am here, and why I want to work with people and wildlife. I have a lot to learn but I am very excited about what will come next.
*the names of villages have been changed to preserve anonymity of the interviewees
