Climate change, ethical hunting and threats to the !nara plant: PART 2

By Rafael Rosas (’20)

After learning about the different kinds of conservation areas, we moved on to the culminating experience of the program. We traveled to Gobabeb Research and Training Center, in the middle of the Namib Desert right where the gravel planes end, and the San Sea begins (and where Mad Max: Fury Road was filmed).

While at Gobabeb, we camped in the dry riverbed of the seasonal Kuiseb river and were divided into groups of our choice to do research of our choice with a Gobabeb staff member as our mentor for the research project design, execution and analysis. Our project was a pilot study aimed at creating a preliminary understanding of !nara health and distribution. !Nara is the only plant that can regularly and consistently grow in the inter dune sand sea, an area of the hyper arid Namib Desert that averages >25 mm of rainfall per year.

The famous Sand Dunes of the sand sea within the hyper-arid Namib Desert, where we studied !nara population health and distribution.

!Nara is of the same plant family as cucumbers and pumpkins, and like it’s relatives, produces a very watery, and edible fruit that is vital for the survival of both the wildlife and the human populations of the area. Since the !nara plant is only known to grow in northern South Africa, Namibia, and southern Angola (with the largest concentrated population being in the Lower Kuiseb), it has also become economically significant for the people who depend on it, as the seeds are baked and sold as a snack and its oils are used to make high-end health products.

Some of the metrics we used to determine overall population health were average !nara height and diameter, which we are measuring for one !nara mound here.

I know life as a Dartmouth student is always stressful and fast-paced, but our time at Gobabeb seemed especially so. We had nine days to create our groups, choose a topic, design our project, and collect data through field work. Then we had four days to analyze the data, write our report, prepare it for public distribution, and create a presentation of our findings for the broader Gobabeb staff and the Topnaar traditional authority.

Quickly summarizing, we aimed to find out how two things impacted !nara health: herbivory and fog water access. Professor Bolger, who leads the Namibia portion of the FSP, has been conducting a study on !nara with other partners, whose preliminary findings suggest that herbivory is detrimental to !nara health, and we wanted to find out if those results were generalizable. We found that herbivory does seem to have an impact on !nara health, though not as drastically as the initial study suggested.

Our team exploring the coastal delta !nara populations approaching the Atlantic Ocean.

Perhaps our most interesting finding, and most concerning, are the potential impacts that (you guessed it!) anthropogenic climate change could have on !nara. Our research suggests that the unregulated extraction of water downstream is having a tremendous negative impact on delta !nara populations, and rising global temperatures could restrict the condensation of fog only to higher altitudes – where !nara does not grow. Fog water, and ground water are the only two effective water sources for !nara, and it is quickly losing access to both. It is also a species with a low recruitment rate and long-life span (estimated at 100+ years), which could heavily impact its ability to adapt to changing circumstances. A loss in !nara health or !nara productivity would be ecologically and economically devastating for the entire Lower Kuiseb region.

Is there a more fitting way to conclude the environmental studies FSP than getting depressed about the implications of human-induced climate change? As heartbreaking as it is, I don’t think there is. Such is the condition of the world we find ourselves in. This FSP has taught me more – about the world, academia, research, and myself – than it would ever be practical for me to try and write out. So instead of trying to list them all, I am going to let those lessons inform my future actions.

19 Nov 2018

Climate change, ethical hunting and threats to the !nara plant: PART 1

By Rafael Rosas (’20)

The past month has been a combination of camping with a near-complete lack of WiFi and the hectic workload associated with the end of every term at Dartmouth. Our time in Namibia flew by. I’m writing this in Botswanan airspace, drinking terrible airplane coffee, which is still an upgrade from the coffee powder I have grown accustomed to on this FSP.

So much has happened the past month, I will try to be as brief as possible. After visiting the Cheetah Conservation Fund, we spent a week visiting and learning about the three kinds of conservation areas in Namibia: public national parks, communal conservancies, and private game reserves. Between the three, 48% of Namibia’s total land area is under conservation – a particularly refreshing statistic when compared against the backdrop of the diminishing importance of national parks in the eyes of the American federal government.

We spent two days in Etosha National park, a strikingly beautiful region with very high mammalian biodiversity. My inner geologist was really happy there, since the park is a giant plane that was flattened and deposited by a seasonal glacial lake after the separation of Gondwana (a supercontinent that preceded Pangea) between 500 and 300 million years ago. While seeing such a variety of remarkably majestic animals never gets old, it was the same safari style we had already had plenty of in South Africa, so the novelty was gone (and I must admit, at risk of sounding crass, seeing a rhino and its calf in a car from 50m away in a fenced in park doesn’t really cut it after you’ve microchipped and DNA tested two other wild rhino). Our camp was right next to a waterhole, and being able to see such a wide array of animals in such close proximity was unforgettable. I think my soul ungulate is an Oryx. They’re so cool (and the second-best meat I’ve had in Namibia, after Zebra. Crocodile comes in third place).

A delicious dinner in Namibia of oysters and grilled crocodile meat!

Next, we went to a private game reserve, where we learned about the paradoxically critical role that hunting, of all things, plays in effective and successful conservation frameworks in Namibia. The hunting practiced on these game reserves are likely not what come to mind when you think of African hunting. For me, before coming to Namibia, that was the story of the American dentist that killed the famous and beloved Cecil the Lion from Zimbabwe. Long story short, in 2015 Cecil was lured out of the national park where regulations were in place, and then suffered a slow and painful death at the hands of the hunting group.  The system used for ethical hunting in Namibia is complex and well-thought-out.

Note: hunting is NOT poaching. Poaching is defined as the “illegal hunt or catch of animals on land that is not one’s own or in contravention of official protection.” Poaching is an entirely separate, complicated issue.

There is an entire market and economy for the distribution of animals that are allowed to be hunted. Essentially, farmers whose private property is large enough to house wildlife bring wildlife in. They allow the wildlife to reproduce and live free and healthy on the property. Every year, each farm will set a quota for how many clients they will be accepting per year. The number of clients is highly variable, but 10-20 hunters per year can be typical. Those clients will then purchase hunting packages from the farm, and they will get to hunt oryx, kudu, zebra, springbok, Elan, other ungulates, and combinations of the options.

No animals that are endangered are hunted. A representative of the Ministry of Environment and Tourism, or someone who is licensed to represent them, must accompany every hunt to ensure that laws are followed and nothing that is not allowed to be hunted is. All tracking of the animals must be done on foot: no vehicles can be used to assist the hunt. No traps can be used, and most surprisingly to me, no automatic or semi-automatic weapons are allowed to be used for the hunt because of how easy it is to kill an animal with one of those. Let that sink in: southern African hunting safaris have more gun control legislation to protect their animals than the United States of America has to protect its citizens. All of these things are meant to create what is called a “fair chase” hunting environment. They are meant to give the animal as fair a chance as possible, and consequently only attract experienced, ethical hunters. No meats are allowed to be exported to the US or the EU, the two largest sources of clientele, so after the hunters consume what they want from the animal, the rest of the meat is given to a local butcher to be redistributed to surrounding impoverished communities.

Some of my fellow FSPers exiting the car after a game drive on the private game reserve.

Communal conservancies are similar to the private game reserves in Namibia, except instead of being owned by old white men who likely acquired the land during apartheid after it was taken from indigenous black people. When Germany lost control on Namibia, it was made a territory of South Africa, and the racist apartheid regime extended to Namibia as well.  In communal conservancies the land is a communal resource that belongs to the traditional authorities (chiefs and tribal elders). The money made from communal conservancies is then invested in the community. Clinics, gravel roads, and high school scholarships (since children typically will stop going to school by 7th grade) are some of the larger investments these conservancies make.

Communal conservancies often practice both photographic safari tourism and fair-chase hunting, though they operate slightly differently. Every year, the Ministry of Environment and Tourism gives a quota to a community of how many of each kind of animal they can sell to a hunter. That total is further broken into three categories:

  1. the number of that species that are labeled as “problem animals” that can be either hunted by the community itself or sold to an overseas hunter. These are individual animals that for some reason have become very difficult to live with for the community, like an elephant that regularly eats the vegetables from the community garden, or a lion that consistently feeds on livestock.
  2. The number of animals from each species that the community is required to sell to a hunter (i.e. the Ministry of Environment and Tourism will collect the taxes from that number of kills regardless of whether the community sells the kill or not – obviously there is no incentive to not do so).
  3. The range of animals from each species that a community can hunt that does not fall into the above categories (i.e. animals that are not problem animals and that are not required hunts but that the community can still choose to sell). The three numbers added together give you the total initial hunt count.

Our group learning about the rock art painted by the indigenous peoples on a communal conservancy.

Perhaps the most drastic change in my thinking on conservation is the role of ethical, fair chase hunting. Obviously, a program about sustainable development, conservation and community-based natural resource management doesn’t attract the type of student that wants to go shoot a leopard, nor, I suspect, students that think favorably about those who do. Yet, if hunting is practiced and managed ethically, it can contribute to, not challenge, effective conservation.

Economically, hunting is far more lucrative than safaris. Let’s use an elephant for example. Let’s say an elephant makes a community N$50,000 (about US$3,333) from photographic safaris per year. Now let’s imagine this elephant gets quite old, approaching the typical natural age limit, and is a bull, so his role in elephant society is less important than of an old female elephant (elephants are matriarchal communities). Then you get some crazy, rich dentist from overseas to pay anywhere between N$500,000 and N$15,000,000 for that single elephant. The infrastructure necessary for the hunter is also far more environmentally friendly than the photographic safaris. Hunters don’t need roads. Hunters don’t need expensive luxury lodges that use huge amounts of energy and water. They sleep in tents. Hunters don’t use large safari buses that use more gas than Hummers, that’s part of the fair chase requirement. Hunting costs far less and makes more than ten times the money per capita.

Hunting is also more resilient. If there is a disease outbreak (like Ebola) or political turbulence, photographic safaris will end instantly, and it can take years for a reputation to be recovered. Hunters are “macho,” driven by toxic masculinity (in my opinion). They don’t care. They will continue to pay to hunt through most externalities.

I still would never go on a hunt, I have zero interest in doing so, but I think there is something to be said about the role hunting can play in conservation when it is managed ethically and responsibly.

19 Nov 2018

Namibia’s German Legacy and… Cheetahs!

By Rafael Rosas (’20)

Today we are traveling from Otjiwarongo to Etosha National Park in Northern Namibia. We have stopped for an hour-long lunch at a town with WiFi, which is a welcome change.

Namibia is a fascinating country on several levels. For starters, it is the closest thing I think I’ve ever come across to a “ghost town” on a national scale. It is a country with a tiny population of 2.2 million (for reference, San Diego, CA [my hometown] has a population of 3.3 million), spread over an area of 850,000 square kilometers (comparable to Texas or California), and ~23% of the population lives in Windhoek, the capital.

Me holding a guide to Namibian geology.

Like South Africa, and in part because of South Africa, modern Namibia is defined and haunted by its darkly racist past. Humans have inhabited Namibia for thousands of years, and the region for a long time was able to avoid colonization because there are about 150 kilometers of unforgiving desert inland from the entire coast. Until the late 1800’s, this desert-lined coast protected the indigenous people of the region from colonizing Europeans.

Then along came the Germans.

In the 1880’s a German geographer who later became infamous for being cited and honored by Hitler himself, released his theory that people needed space to expand to continue to live and prosper. At a multilateral conference of Colonial powers, Germany officially claimed Namibia, among other parts of Africa, in its attempt to ensure that it would have sufficient land to expand into, and thus, prosper. At first, not many Germans made their way south, as life in Africa was (and still is) ruthless and unforgiving. Yet, as famine and poverty continued to strike at the heart of major German cities, people began to move in larger numbers to Namibia.

At first, the colonists and the indigenous people lived in relative peace, but this peacefulness became incredibly unpopular amongst the new wave of colonialists who believed the Second Reich’s mandate that the Arian race was superior. They did not see the indigenous people as humans, let alone equals, and thus did not look favorably upon the negotiations that kept the peace.

The war that broke out was bloody and gruesome, the German general leading it ruthless. Eventually, the German army encircled the entire Herero (indigenous) population, man woman and child alike, while the Herero were assembled in what in their culture was an act of peace (instead of attacking the German capital, which they could have done). The Germans purposely left the encirclement open where the Herero could only escape into the unforgiving desert.

Tens of thousands of Herero were killed, and even those who had managed to escape into the desert, fell into another German trap. Troops had been stationed at the water holes of the desert, knowing that eventually the Herero people would have to go to them to drink. In this manner, German soldiers rounded up almost all the remaining Herero people, and transported them to centers that 40 years later would become notorious, for their use on a different people: the Herero were taken to Germany’s first concentration camps.

In this way, the Germans almost completely wiped out the Herero people, and buried the dead from the camps in mass graves on the outskirts of cities. The first Genocide of the 20th Century remains completely erased from history. Germany did not officially recognize the genocide until 2007, but their statement was that the genocide occurred when the Herero were encircled, not when they were put into concentration camps. Tourists today, completely unaware of the country’s history, use the sand dunes created by the mass graves for recreational activities like racing and all-wheel driving. It is not uncommon for people to find human bones as they do so.

Many of the soldiers who fought for Germany in the war eventually became prominent figures during Nazi rule. The German general who orchestrated the genocide returned to Germany and found an understudy who he believed to be a prodigy. He became determined to teach him everything he knew. He believed in his understudy so much that he even leant him $60,000 to buy a newspaper that would eventually serve as a propaganda machine. The name of the understudy was Adolf Hitler.

After Germany lost World War I, the League of Nations took all of its colonies, and gave German South-West Africa, what Namibia was named at the time, to South Africa. Since Namibia was technically a part of South Africa, the brutal Apartheid regime occurred here as well. The combination of genocide and apartheid have left black Namibians just as disenfranchised as black South Africans. Namibia gained its independence in 1990, and that is when Apartheid ended here. Every single president of Namibia has come from the group that led the armed resistance against South African troops during Apartheid.

We have spent the last three days camping on a private conservation reserve that belongs to the Cheetah Conservation Fund (CCF). Namibia is the country in the world that has the largest remaining number of wild cheetahs in the world (~1200 of the ~8000-9000 left in the world), and much of the conservation efforts have been spearheaded by CCF.

Two cheetahs affectionately rubbing faces right in front of us (!!)

Their facilities are incredible. We were able to tour their genetics lab, pharmacy, scat (aka animal poop) lab, veterinary clinic, canine training farm and museum.

Lindsey Reitinger and I cuddling with a doggo trained by CCF to protect livestock from predators.

Cheetahs are a remarkable species that I never knew I loved so much until now. Cheetahs face extinction for two major reasons: the fact that they are the only large cat that is a day-time hunter and the demand for them in the illegal pet trade.

Everything about a cheetah is designed for speed. Unlike other predators, they do not rely on stealth of strength for a kill. Instead, they rely purely on their ability to outrun every single land animal on earth. The combination of the facts that they hunt during the day and don’t hide when they are makes them particularly easy for farmers to spot, and they are killed by farmers who think cheetahs are killing all of their livestock, though this is usually not the case.

For starters, cheetahs don’t actually like livestock meat, it’s not nutritious enough for them so they’ll only eat it as a last resort. Secondly, cheetahs are awful at fighting, but it is not uncommon for them to scavenge the carcass another predator left behind. Thus, if a lion or a leopard kills a cow and then eats its fill, but the animal did its eating at night, the next day when the farmer comes out he may see a cheetah eating what the other predator left behind, and wrongfully assume the cheetah killed his cow and then kill the cheetah.

The other major threat to cheetahs is the illegal pet trade. Until the 20th century, cheetahs were thought to be dogs, not cats, because of how relatively easy it is to domesticate them. In fact, it was legal to have them as a pet until 6 years ago here in Namibia.

A CCF caregiver preparing cheetahs for a demo speed run

Captivity is bad for cheetahs for several reasons. For one, in order for the cheetah to be successfully domesticated, it has to be cared for in a very specific, detailed and expensive way, and to avoid becoming violent later in life, must be accustomed to humans from a ridiculously young age (usually <2 weeks old). Cheetahs are also the surviving descendants of a genetic bottleneck, so every single individual animals’ DNA is vital for the future success of the species. Taking the animal out of the wilderness and into captivity takes that cheetah’s priceless genes out of the system and reduces genetic diversity.

Cheetahs already suffer from many genetics-related disadvantages. They live very short lives (in the wilderness usually 8-10 years). 80% of baby cheetahs don’t make it to two months. Many are born with physical mutations, like two heads, 6 legs and three tails, that kill them quickly.

This morning, our final activity with CCF was watching a Cheetah-Run. CCF has a course set up in one of their fields where cheetahs can chase a toy a remarkably small distance from spectators.

Imagine seeing the fastest land animal on earth flashing full-speed at most one meter (!) in front of you. That is what we witnessed today. Cheetahs are nimble and almost scary thin, but when they’re flashing by it sounds like a horse galloping on steroids. “Mad crack,” as my TA from Ireland would say. To be frank, the cheetah run rivaled the rhino microchipping on the epicness scale.

21 Oct 2018