Gardening in Gondeni

By Sammi Lauth

On the 22nd of June when we were at our homestays we had forty minutes before we needed to leave to meet the rest of the student groups at the Sangoma’s rhondaval, so Tess, Kelsey, and I worked on our photovoice project. With photovoice you as the researcher prompt your informants to think of places, things, phenomena that capture the essence of that which you are attempting to understand, whether that be resource use or household metabolism, for example. You then step back, and your informant leads the investigation, choosing the places, things, phenomena to photograph, and photographing them. In so doing, they capture the importance and essence of that place, thing, phenomena, using the camera and photos as a medium to express their voice and experiences without the influence of the researcher. It is an empowering methodology.

For our project we asked several people in Gondeni, the place of our homestay, to take us to their favorite places in the village and capture them with the camera. After the photo-taking we followed up with a series of questions aimed to better understand why they chose these places, what they do here, the details of how and why they do what they do, etc. We asked our homestay mother, Ndidzulafi, and her neighbor, Elelwani, to participate. While Ndidzulafi said she only had one favorite place in the entire village which was her garden, Elelwani mentioned two, the soccer fields where she can watch the kids play in matches and her garden as well. The gardens were disparate in appearance and function, yet each was valued to the highest degree by its respective owner.

Ndidzulafi’s garden was beautiful; well-kept and pleasing to the eye. Underneath the tall mango and marula trees and flower bushes was a green, grassy lawn, the only I had seen in all of Gondeni. During the follow-up we found out that she collects seeds as she walks from place to place, for instance from the market and back home when she buys food. Every seed she has planted has been collected in this way; they are never bought, and all of her plants have aesthetic purposes only, save for her mango and marula trees that grow fruit that can be eaten. Despite the numerous children (between 10-15) that hung around her home, I never saw one go into the garden.

Succeeding the follow-up, we asked our translator Tshumelo to take photos of the four of us doing the respectful “Aa” (or “Hello”) bow that is a mark of Venda culture, as seen below.

Elelwani’s garden was much smaller and without a lawn of grass, and dissimilarly from Ndidzulafi’s, protected by a fence made of sticks strung together by wire. Inside she had rows and pots of vegetables like chard, tomato, spinach, cabbage, and chilis. In the follow-up we found out that she grows these foods to feed her family, as opposed to going to market to buy them. She also sells that which she grows, including the veggies we saw which flourish in the winter soil, and corn that thrives in the summer heat. With this corn, she grounds the kernels into a powder and uses it to make pap, a traditional South African food that you take handfuls of, roll into a ball, and dip into other veggie-based dishes. Its taste and consistency reminds me of grits or cream of wheat. In addition to the photo she took of her garden, we had her pose for a photograph and she smiled widely, bending down and mimicking the gardening she does.

As an anthropology major, the aesthetic and functional purposes of the gardens were particularly fascinating to me. Each woman valued her garden immensely and considered it to be her own, that is, as opposed to a communal space like the soccer fields or their own homes. For Elelwani, her garden helped provide for her family, and for Ndidzulafi, her garden served as a place of respite that also signified elevated class status.

Coming Full Circle

By Madison MacKenzie

As I stepped off the plane in Hoedspruit, I was ready for this new adventure. We climbed into an open game drive vehicle for the first time and set off for our first destination: Wits Rural Facility. Here we had our first lectures and set up camera traps for one of our projects. It felt as if time was infinite and that we would be here forever. The excitement continued as we saw our first few giraffes in our camp. After spending several days here, it was finally time to enter the Kruger National Park.

We spent all day driving from the southern part of Kruger way up to Shingwedzi Research Camp in the north. This is where the true excitement began. I was wide awake searching the bush for wildlife. The first of the big 5 we spotted was elephants! Seeing them down in a riverbed was such a beautiful moment. Moving on, we saw a couple of lions far in the distance. I stared through my camera in awe watching as they greeted each other. How could this day get any better? Around sunset we spotted a leopard close to the road weaving in and out of the bushes. My jaw dropped. The leopard’s stunning fur was gleaming in the sun. Thomas, our driver, said this was the biggest leopard he had ever seen!

The next several days were exhilarating. I’ll never forget the early morning game drives where we sat huddled in the back of the game drive vehicle wearing three pairs of pants and all the long sleeves I had to stay warm. By night we would sit around the fire listening to stories and getting to know one another. Lying in bed we were able to hear lions and hyenas calling nearby.

Our time in Kruger came and went quickly. We were on to our third destination: HaMakuya and the Tshulu Camp. The scenery here was completely different. Our camp overlooked a river and we were surrounded by hills and rocky terrain. I sat and watched as the sun set behind the baobab tree across the river. The view was far too perfect to be real.

After two nights there, we headed in groups off to our homestays. Having two familiar faces with me for this experience was comforting. Having each other for support allowed us to be involved in discussions with our homestay family as well as playing with the children. On the first night as I was walking to the latrine I looked up at the stars and stopped dead in my tracks. I had seen stars before of course, but I never knew what I was missing. I turned around and saw the milky way in the night sky for the first time. In that moment, there was nothing more incredible than being able to stare at the night sky dotted with thousands of visible stars.

Leaving the Tshulu Camp proved to be the toughest. Sitting in the game drive vehicles we waived at people living in HaMakuya. Tears escaped many of us as we reflected back on everything we experienced living with these people. After several hours of driving on highways, we entered the dirt roads that would take us to Makalali Private Game Reserve. Along the way we saw three cheetahs walking along the fence. To say I was excited would be an understatement. My childhood favorite animal was the cheetah and I was screaming on the inside. I never thought I would see them that close!

We arrived at the game lodge covered in dirt. It felt weird to be in such a high end place looking like I had just been outside picking up dirt and rubbing it on my face. Nonetheless, the time here was well spent. The game drives got more exciting each time. We finally saw the last of the big 5: rhinos. Moments later we came across half a dozen lions on the move. The look of determination on their faces said everything. They trotted powerfully through the field weaving around our game drive vehicles before disappearing back into the bush. I thought that there was no way the game drives could keep getting better.  The next day we spotted more rhino and a leopard with two cubs! This was an incredibly rare sighting. We watched as one of the cubs climbed the tree holding and impala. At this point we had seen a total of seven leopards on the trip!

After living in luxury for a few days, we arrived in the mountains of Lekgalameetse. I felt more at home here in the quiet forest. I felt a change in energy not only in myself, but in our whole group. This was a time for relaxing and reflecting to refresh ourselves from everything we had taken in to this point. We did group hikes in the park and had guides to give us the history behind this beautiful place. The last hike was to the top of a mountain where you could see forever. Everyone seemed happy and we enjoyed the final moments in this incredible nature reserve together.

As I am sitting here back at Wits I realize we have come full circle. Where has the time gone? It feels like a lifetime ago when we arrived here and observed the South African landscapes for the first time. I came hungry to learn everything I could about the communities and conservation strategies.  Looking back, I realize that I have learned so much more than I could have ever imagined. I think the most important lessons I learned were from the people I shared these moments with. We started this trip hardly knowing each other and now we leave South Africa as a family.

Gondeni’s Lesson for All of Us

By Tess Scarborough

Arriving in our homestay village was an experience different than any I’ve experienced in the past. I was feeling optimistic and excited leading up to the homestays but once we dropped off the first group of students, the nerves began to kick in. It’s like going to a theme park and being eager and excited until the seatbelt is fastened and the ride begins to move. I wanted to turn back and run, but I didn’t at the same time. Children awaited our arrival into our own village, Gondeni. Bright smiles flashed at us from all directions. As we got all of our bags, gifts, and water containers into the house, they “patiently” waited outside, trying to be quiet but whirring at what the presence of the makua (white person) could mean.  Our translator, Tshumelo, immediately threw us into the mix and told us to bring out some gifts to break the ice with the children. Not wanting to cause a huge scene, my group members and I decided to bring out just candy and stickers to start with. Once that wave of outstretched hands and pushing and shoving to get closer had ended, we reappeared with a brand new soccer ball. For some reason, when we were inside our living quarters, we just could not manage to keep the air inside the ball, and it kept deflating. We were worried about disappointing the kids but we shouldn’t have because once we brought it out, the game was on.

The children bombarded us trying to reach at our hands to hold on the way to the soccer field. By this time, I had already fallen in love with a young girl named (Magwani??) who was sweet, quiet, and playful. The three of us from the program were given a random assortment of kids to be on our soccer team, and I was pleased to find her on mine. My team was the first team off the field, so at first, I just got to hang out with the kids and try to break the ice a little bit. I don’t know why I do this when I’m uncomfortable, but I just started dancing and doing other weird things like squatting and jumping. It worked, I think. The kids started laughing at me and imitating my movements. We were called into the game, and I don’t think I got a chance to get off that field until it was time to return home for lunch.

We arrived back at the randvaal which is a local style of hut that is decorated with the traditional garment called a munwenda. Colorful lines cross over each other in a style similar to plaid if I had to describe it. Manure floors intersect with the clean white walls of the randvaal, and there is no smell that you might expect. For lunch we enjoyed an arrangement of pap (cornmeal dish that is reminiscent of porridge), two creamed spinach dishes in which to dip the pap, and frozen bananas and apples.

After relaxing for a mere moment after lunch, we headed out for a walk where we would meet some of the other groups over a nearby “mountain”, which honestly felt like a hill to all of us Colorado folks. On the way there, a dog came snarling, barking, and sprinting at us from inside someone’s backyard. I froze, trusting the kids to act in a manner that was appropriate. One kid ran and the dog trailed behind them, snapping at their ankles. The dog was called off and returned to its home. The kids seemed unafraid and laughed it off. I pretended I almost didn't need new pants.

At the top, there was a beautiful view, and this is where we kept an eye for the approaching groups. The kids taught us how to forage these berries from the bush, and I was surprised how little nutrition must be in them, and how many you would have to eat to become full. We saw the group approaching, so we began our descent down. Children that couldn’t have been more than three years old were clambering down this mountain barefoot as if they have been doing it for years. Stepping on sharp stones and accidently getting too close to the thorny bushes and being side-swiped seemed to have no effect on them. There was no time for tears, it appeared, when it was playtime. When we reached the bottom and began playing, and to say the games were rough would be an understatement. They have this game in which if somebody laughs, the entire group surrounds them and essentially beats the perpetrator from all angles. The surprising aspect of all this was the overall mood of the children. The only time I saw someone crying or upset was when they got pushed out of holding my hand. To which, my hand was quickly returned. No tears were shed from the beating, covering the rough terrain, or gathering small berries to try and appease the normalized level of hunger.

This concept intrigued me. Back home in America, you see people who have everything, complaining about everything. Their food took thirty minutes to come out at the restaurant, traffic was crazy on their way to their cushy job, their air conditioner is acting up again. It seems as if these problems consume the worries and negative thoughts of an entire day, causing them to miss out on the joy all around them, waiting to be noticed. Here in Gondeni, joy comes from each other's laughter, a game of soccer, singing all together in unison to a game everybody seems to know, a sticker of Simba proudly displayed on their shirts or hands. Every single aspect of this life is hard. Getting enough clean water to do the cleaning, cooking, and drinking, being able to afford seeds at the market so they can hopefully grow a successful crop, praying no one gets injured or sick because a visit to the doctor is just ultimately out of the question. These are real problems, problems of life and death. Problems that put ours to shame. The less you compare yourself to others, the less you can pity yourself and feel as if you are falling behind. The more you focus on your family and friends, the more you can find all of the blessings you share within each other. Thank you Gondeni for teaching me this lesson.

Elephant Encounters in Kruger National Park

By Ellie Oravecz

Before I departed the United States and arrived in South Africa, I have always had an interest in elephants. This may have been influenced by my mother (Hi Mum!) as she used to collect elephants’ figurines of all materials and sizes. Due to this, I wanted to see an African elephant for my mother in specifically, Kruger National Park.

            On the 15th of June, I departed from Wits Rural and entered Kruger National Park for the first time. I had the opportunity to view many types of animals such as zebras, giraffes, a lion and elephants. My first sighting of an African elephant was a whole herd of elephants gathered in a dry riverbed. It was a spectacular sighting, but I wished they were a little closer. The next day, on a sunset game drive, we encountered a small group of elephants drinking from an artificial watering hole. Our game driver and guide, Thomas, who is extremely skilled, positioned our vehicles quite close to the group which was absolutely fabulous. I was amazed by this experience and started to appreciate these magnificent giants in a whole new way.

            On the 18th of June, during an afternoon game drive, I had the most spectacular sighting of this entire trip. A large male elephant was standing in the middle of the road which was causing a mild traffic jam. There were many tourists who were parked several meters away from the elephant as they were too intimidated to try and cross his path. Thomas described him as a 48 year old bull elephant and that we were going to pass him on the road. He told us all to stay calm, remain seated and that we were doing to respect his comfort zone. Thomas pulled up right next to the elephant, switched the vehicle off and at that moment we were face to face with this beautiful giant. Everyone is our vehicle was still and some didn’t even take a single breath, including me. Thomas explained to us that the elephant was not stressed by our presence due to his body placement and that he was not admitting any warning signs. These consist of discharge from the temporal gland, flared ears, head shaking, trumpeting and possibly a fake charge. Thomas described that if we respected his space, then he would respect ours. It was amusing to watch the surrounding tourists watching Thomas pulling up next to the giant male elephant in an open air vehicle filled with college students. All the tourists had shocked and confused faces as they probably thought we were all crazy for pulling up next to a massive blue elephant. After a few minutes, we pulled away slowly and I realized that I had gotten the close encounter that I was seeking (maybe a little bit closer than expected).

            In conclusion, this experience has changed my perspective on elephants. At first I was interested in them, but now I appreciate their beauty, mannerisms, behavior and overall presence. I will forever remember this extremely close and spectacular encounter as it was one of a kind.

Through New Eyes

By Sydney Vander Waerdt

As I sit here and reflect on this trip, I am thinking about who I was when I first arrived in Africa and who I am now. At the beginning, I was shy, afraid to talk to the people that live here. I was the stranger, out of place and unsure of myself. I cared too much about being laughed and stared at. It has taken days upon days of overstimulation to get to how I feel now. And thinking about this whole experience, the homestay was the most transforming part. It completely changed how I think about interacting, using resources, and how I go about everyday life.

After the homestay, I find myself thinking so consciously about everything I do. As I shower I think of all the people who were bathing in a tub of water out in the open. As I walk around luxurious places, I think about how most of the people living in the village have never been outside of it. As I stuff my face with many different and diversely cooked foods, I think about the people that mostly live on pap. When I look at the clothes on everyone’s back, I think of the holes in all the kids’ dirt-stained clothing. When I look down at my Chaco sandals, I think of the teenage girls who were sharing a single pair of flip flops with each other. When I start to feel sad, I think of how happy the people in the Damboni village were despite their lack of resources. Their smiles and laughs were so genuine. They were loving and caring in a way I have never experienced before. And what was so crazy about that was how young the people were -  picking each other up when they were down, girls taking care of the babies that were barely walking - engaging in what we would think of as more grown up activities and behaviors but with the innocence of youth.

It was really hard to wrap my brain around the contrast of our cultures. Experiencing the way they live has oddly brought me a lot of confidence. Now, I find it comfortable and engaging to be laughed at by people that don’t speak the same language. I may not know what they are saying, but I love listening and trying to figure it out. The comfort I feel when talking to people from a different culture has grown tremendously. I am now walking around with ease, comfort, and open arms. Being immersed in the culture here is what made this experience so transforming. Not only has this experience impacted how I will live my life, but it has also made me want to approach problem solving differently. Complex problems require complex solutions that include diverse knowledge and perspectives. The work we do here as scientists would mean nothing without understanding who these people are and where they come from. Knowledge, experiences, and understanding go hand and hand if we want to make an impact on both ourselves and the world beyond our own - whether that is in the next neighborhood or on another continent.

Tracks of South Africa

By Nolan Bunting

My experience in South Africa can be summed up in tracks. As I sit in Wits Rural under an out of season Marulla tree, I think of all the tracks we have left behind and all the good and bad experiences we were witness to. As a species, humans tend to dynamically influence the landscape and likewise the landscape dynamically affects us.

Tracks tell stories. When you look at an impala, you see a pointed track for jumping, while a waterbuck has a spread out track to help with aquatic maneuvers. Tracks can be used to determine if the animal had just passed by, or if it was running away. But most importantly tracks can show you what animals utilize the same routes and how they might influence each other. In a similar manner, every individual in our group has left tracks on the others. From the historians’ sarcastic, insightful banter about the state of government, to the extensive knowledge about conservation from our youngest member, everyone’s tracks were different. With every step, we all were shown different perspectives and viewpoints. In my time with everyone, I came to realize that it was not the lectures or bushwalks that taught me the most, but the people I was surrounded with. I learned about earth houses from a running genius. I was educated on the need for clean water from a kind hearted ex-Marine. I was reminded to dream big from a future adventure ranch owner. With each new track, I could feel myself growing more and more fond of my experience.

Now at this point you probably think me a good listener, that cannot be further from the truth. I, much like Alexander Hamilton, spend much of my days talking, often leaving a track similar to a rampaging elephant on my friends and family. Which is why, I must point out, that our group was made up of great listeners. Like expert trackers, they could take the jumble of footprints and give them life. They would spend much of the day listening to the stories of those around them, and in a single instant say what needed to be said. Often these trackers did not realize their help, because they did it so subtly, like a bush hare’s tracks in a deep thicket. Yet they would guide the discussions and interviews through the bushveld. I admired these individuals as highly as the people that left tracks on me. They were truly what I strive to be, and truly taught me to begin listening.

I know that this is probably not what you were expecting when you heard something called tracks in South Africa, but it had to be said. When we all talk about the program and experience, we often leave out the most important aspect. Friendship.

Conservation is not about one thing. If you focus on one aspect, like fire management, you will forget the greater connection, how fire affects soils and migration. Likewise, conservation is a task meant for teamwork, from soil scientists, doctors, vets, community leaders, watershed scientists, engineers, anti-poachers, tourism majors, ecologists to biologists. We have to be able to learn and ask help from our neighbors. This experience is just that. It is the opportunity to leave our tracks on others and observe the tracks left by others. We left tracks on each other, our homestays, the conservationists we visited, and on our instructors, and we observed theirs as well.

To sum it all, our trip was an extensive path of tracks. Ones that we left behind and others that we took with us.

So now I say, FAREWELL SOUTH AFRICA and keep leaving your tracks on those that follow us.

Sincerely,

Nolan Bunting from Colorado State University

My Spiritual Awakening in Godeni

By Daniel Dominguez

Having grown up in a Catholic household, I learned a lot about religion, when I was married and post-divorce I was a practicing Christian. Having realized that I never fit in with that culture three years ago, I became spiritually awake and opened myself up to more in the world. My willingness to learn spiritually became helpful in Ha-Makuya as I felt my spirit grown in the short span of 3 days, but also made me realize I have much to learn.

The first night in my homestay in Godeni we heard singing in the distance, I asked our translator Joel what that sound was, and he said it was a church hymn and asked if I would like to attend a Zion Christian church service. Alex, Jenn, Nolan, and I were intrigued by experiencing a church service in South Africa, and we began our walk down the dirt road with a plethora of children following us. When we were two houses away from the church, our translator dismissed our children telling us that they could not come with us into the church.

As we opened the gate to the house where the church service was taking place, the chorus became much louder. We walked up the driveway and around the corner, we saw about twenty people sitting down on plastic chairs and one man standing at a podium. Everyone slowly turned and saw us, and it grew quiet. Feeling like we interrupted, the silence became awkward; the Prophet turned to us and welcomed us to take a seat. We slowly walked to the back row and sat down. As the service continued, however, there was a woman on the floor crying. The Prophet welcomed us as visitors and began to tell the tale of David and Goliath. He instructed that we should take our efforts to conquer those who oppress us in our lives.

Then began something I have never personally seen: he waved his arms, and a woman began to fall to the floor like he was pushing the evil out of someone. A circle began to form, and people came up to exorcise their demons within them. They would lean into the arms of someone, and he would hit them in the belly and forehead screaming “fire, Jesus” repeatedly and then he would command the demon to leave the body. One woman began to gag as if she was going to throw it up, but she never did. As they continued they reached for Nolan. I went up behind him to make sure that he would be ok; he fell into my arms and began to growl. They reached for me next. Our translator came to me to grab my eyeglasses off my head to make sure they didn’t break. As the Prophet began to push me back by off-balancing me, he began to command my demons to come out from me. I could not feel anything within me, but he did not hit me like the others. After a couple of minutes, he let me go and continued. After the mass ended I asked Nolan why he began to growl, but he did not know. It may be that because of the beliefs that I grew up with, I did not give power in a way for the Prophet to expel my demons. I did, on the other hand, have a feeling of belonging while the Prophet spoke during ceremony. As we reflected at home we grew excited as the next day we were going to visit the Sangoma, the traditional healer that harmonizes with the living and the dead to heal your ailments and woes.

After our fruit, peanut butter, and toast breakfast, we asked our translator to take us to visit the Sangoma. We arrived at a house that looked like the rest in the village, we met the Sangoma, and she informed us that we were to wait for another group to arrive so that we could do the readings with them. In the meantime, we could ask her any questions we had. We requested to learn how she became a Sangoma; she informed us that it came to her in a dream and she was called to become one, and not doing so would make her ancestors mad at her. She trained with another Sangoma who verified that she had received the calling. She then had to collect the specific bones and pelts of animals that came into her dreams. I asked if she believed in God and she gave me an unexpected answer, she practiced Christianity until receiving her calling to be a Sangoma. However, still believing in God, she believes God guided her to become a Sangoma. When we asked if she could heal anything, she answered that not all things could be treated through her. When there was a disease that could not be cured by the bones, she sent them to a clinic because certain ailments could only be healed through conventional means.

We then began our consultations, and as she made her way around the room, I did not know what I wanted to ask her and then all of a sudden, I did. She threw my bones and right off the bat she told me that I had something in my heart that was weakening it. She said that I would become a wealthy man and that I would make my money helping the communities. Then she told me that I needed to return to church, the wisdom I had would be of use there and with the communities. I was asked if there was anything that I wanted to ask for the bones to reveal, I asked if she could see my child that passed away and if he was happy with me. She threw the bones and told me she could not see my child but that my heart was weak like she had told me. I asked if she could heal my weary soul, she consulted the bones, and I was told she could not treat my soul with the herbs that she had, but that only time could heal my wounds. That was all that was on my mind, and we finished the consultation. As we left the house, I began to reflect on the two very different experiences I had been through and how I could grow from them.

I asked Joel if the Zionists would be willing to accept the Sangoma in their church, he said that they would not because it was the devil’s work. The Sangoma believed otherwise, and this became a contradictory statement, I am sure that not all Sangomas believed in God like this, but she did. The Sangoma was willing to accept that part of her life, but the rest of the church was not willing to accept her back. I was ready to accept her and her lifestyle, but I left the church to grow myself spiritually. I reflected on my own beliefs and my contradictory behavior, I willingly trusted the Sangoma with an open heart; something that I did not do with the Prophet. My own biased might have reflected in how I viewed the practices of the Prophet and his followers. I may have closed the spiritual door with the Christians, and it may have reopened a crack with the Sangoma. From now on I will open myself to the many spiritual paths of the world so that I may continue to grow, maybe that’s what the Sangoma meant by telling me to return to church; the fact that I should return to being open to all forms of spirituality.

Communication Through Laughter

Natalie Miller

Communication is a skill that everyone learns as a young child. Generally, when people think of communication you think of words. It is crucial to be able to construct sentences in such a way that you can get your point across to others. We also learn how to read peoples facial expressions and body language when having a conversation. Unfortunately, these critical skills seem to be getting lost in today’s age of technology. Many people have discarded physical interaction as a form of communication and have begun to rely solely on a written form, even for creating relationships with important people in their lives. My time living in a homestay in HaMakuya revealed just how glaringly backwards our seemingly developed society has their priorities, especially when it comes to communicating and forming relationships with another human being.

The day we left for our homestays we were given a list of Venda words that would be important for us to remember. While there were many words on the list, most of us could only remember the very basics like hi (ah), thank you (ndolivhuwa), and good morning (ndi matsheloni). While these words came in very handy, they were by no means enough to fully communicate with our family. We did have a translator who would help us out when necessary, but we had to learn how to communicate without him.

When we first arrived in Dotha our translator introduced us to our host family. Very quickly the children of the neighborhood became aware of our presence and we were surrounded by kids. Our soccer ball was instantly in use with dust flying and delighted squeals. Every goal scored, and game won, could be heard from a mile away. When our team wasn’t in action my hair was being braided on the sidelines, and babies were being handed to me. Giggles could not be contained as we all played around in the dirt and insects were thrown at us.

When we weren’t playing soccer, the girls taught us their games which usually involved some kind of rhyme and dance. These games were played for hours on end, one game after another. They also dressed us up in their traditional mo’wenda and taught us their traditional dances. The younger girls would dance with us teaching the moves, while some of the older women drummed intricate beats on worn down water containers. Laughter could not be contained on either side as we laughed our way through the challenging moves and they laughed at our butchery of the movement. We danced into the night, illuminated by the golden hue of the fire. As the night got later they brought out the speakers and the dancing amped up. They would play American music wanting to learn our style of dancing (which unfortunately was nonexistent). Every time someone would try a new move, or a new song would come on, love and laughter were the only things that filled the air. By the end of our stay, we had become one big happy family.

The creation of this beautiful family happened with little to no verbal communication. We thrived on demonstrations, body language, facial expressions, and laughter. We all put our heart and soul into trying everything and threw away our embarrassment. Every person in the family was thrilled to have us there participating and learning about their culture. By the time we had to say goodbye, nobody wanted to leave. One of the women from the community called me over to give me a hug and told me she loved me. That was the first time I spoke to this woman, yet the love between us was mutual. We had all been a part of this amazing experience diving into one another’s culture sharing dance, music, food, games, and laughter.

This experience reminded me to look up and focus on what’s important. Strong relationships are built around laughter and physical interaction, something that you can not get from texting. I am determined to continue to implement this way of living when I return. Of course, technology has its benefits, but I think we need to remember that there is a time and a place for it. Technology is not a substitute for interacting with people face to face. Sure, we can learn about rural South African communities on the internet and in text books, but living with the families in the villages, and more importantly becoming a part of a family, is a necessary experience to truly understand the importance of body language and the essence of laughter.

The Joy of Curious Minds

Natalie Miller

In the short period of time I have been in South Africa there have been so many thought provoking experiences. One experience that I found particularly fascinating is our ongoing camera trap project in collaboration with the Lincoln Park Zoo in Chicago, Illinois. They established a program, the Urban Wildlife Institute, studying urban ecology and the wildlife in urban cities. As their project has taken success across the United States, they wanted to expand their data set to other countries to document wildlife gradients. This data will hopefully be used in urban planning of expanding cities so that human and wildlife needs will all be considered. We were asked to bring along 10 game cameras to act as a trial run in South Africa. I was incredibly excited for the opportunity to be a part of such a wonderful experience, but I could never have imagined the personal impact it would have on me.

I am a biomedical science major and currently have no idea what I want to do in the future. One of the potential job opportunities is research, generally in a lab setting. This type of lab job has never particularly been of interest to me, and I have always discarded research as a potential path for me to take. The game cams showed me a new side to research. We sought out locations around Caravilla at Wits Rural Facility and the nearby village looking for the perfect spot for cameras. We had to make sure each location had a balance of infrastructure and potential for wildlife sightings. It was no easy task hiking into various areas of the unforgiving bush, pruning trees and bushes that obstructed the view of the camera, while actively collecting data. This student driven- hands on experience provided a glimpse into a research processes that did not involve being locked in a lab all day. Setting up the cameras inside the fences of Wits Rural was a great learning experience but setting them up in the nearby village taught me so much more.

Although the actual process of setting the camera up remained very similar, the little curious faces changed the entire experience. These game cams provided us with our first interactions with the local villages. We drove to the village with our two loud, open game drive vehicles which immediately grabbed everyone’s attention. Many people were waving and smiling, and the children were coming out of their houses to see us. Their smiles were infectious, and it was impossible not to feel happy while setting up the cameras. The curiosity was overwhelming for a few kids that excitedly ran over to us. They loved trying to learn our names and wanted to figure out what we were doing in their village. We got a similar response when we came back the next day to check the cameras. When we looked at the photos, we had plenty of the chickens, cows, dogs, goats, and humans that we had expected were passing through the area. What I hadn’t expected to see was one of the children who had discovered the camera posing to get her photo taken. Pure joy was seeping out of the photo and straight into my heart. I had no control over the smile on my face, and somehow it has yet to leave.

I believe that happiness is one of the most important things in life. I personally find myself to be a happy person, but it makes me even happier to see other people that are happy. I think this is one of the reasons that our experience in the village and this photograph had such a vast impact on me. It never crossed my mind that a scientific research project about urban ecology could bring me to a place of such joy. This experience proved to me that research can be so much more than collecting and analyzing data. I think the key moving forward is to not disregard research as a potential path for me to take. I have learned about so many new things that I want to learn more about. For example, I think there is some fascinating research to be done to control the raging elephant populations in Kruger National Park such as elephant contraceptives. This journey has only just begun, yet a lifetime of joy and opportunities have already been created.