The Power Of Perspective

by Mallory Fischer (United States of America)

Making a local connection Namibia

Cheetahs. Elephants. Rhinos. Lions. What comes to mind when you think of these animals? If you are anything like me, these animals symbolize a lifelong love for nature. These are the animals that I read about in my books when I was young. I saw them featured in countless documentaries. They always felt so far away from where I lived, yet the distance never really mattered. I wanted to see them, know them, and protect them. There is an innate connection to be felt with these charismatic megafauna, even if you live a world away. After 35 hours of nonstop travel from Chicago, Illinois to Windhoek, Namibia, I was absolutely exhausted. I could feel my eyelids sinking as I rode in the shuttle from the airport to my hotel. Between slow blinks, I saw something new to me. A stocky, but quick, animal darted across the road with its tail held straight up like an antennae. A... warthog? Yes, a warthog! My exhaustion was quickly forgotten and replaced by a refreshing level of excitement. I pointed the warthog out to my shuttle driver and he simply smiled and said “by the end of your visit here, you will be sick of seeing warthogs!”. We both laughed, but his comment was a solid reminder to me of the different perspective I carried as a foreigner who was seeing this landscape for the very first time. Perspective is a small word that conveys a large concept. With so much diversity in the world, every individual leads an entirely different life from one another. If all 7.5 billion people on the planet were to set their eyes on a single scenario, there would be 7.5 billion different perspectives to take away from it; each one influenced by that individual’s life history and personal experiences. My conversation with the shuttle driver was not the only lesson on perspective that I would have in Namibia, in fact, it would be the first of many. As a grad student studying conservation, a large portion of my time was spent talking to people in rural farming communities and trying to understand their perception of the wildlife that they share their space with. While I made some successful connections, I was also met with a lot of reluctance. People were uncomfortable openly discussing their tumultuous relationship with local wildlife, especially to a foreigner. Then I met Johan. Unlike other farmers, Johan was eager to speak to me. He wanted to address the impact that large mammals have on Namibian farmlands. From the perspective of a farmer, these animals are a huge threat to their crops and livestock. They can destroy a field of crops or decimate a herd of livestock in one night. As a last resort, farmers often feel forced to harm wildlife to protect their livelihoods. Johan showed me an article that he carries with him, written by an animal rights organization in the U.S., that berated African farmers for their defensive practices. He also stressed that most rural people are limited by the economics of the country and their survival depends on the resources they can harvest from the land. He ended our conversation with a genuine question, “What do you want us to do?”. I could see the tears of frustration in his eyes. I searched for an answer, but all I could muster was a bewildered, “I’m so sorry”. Where I live, these animals are viewed as loveable. We vilify those who harm them, and there is some truth to that, but we end up being apathetic to the struggles of the people who regularly experience them. Human-wildlife conflict is deeply multi-faceted and there is no singular answer to the many problems involved in any given situation. What works for some does not work for all. I feel grateful that Johan spoke bravely on such controversial topics to a person with a very different perspective. So once again, I ask… Cheetahs. Elephants. Rhinos. Lions. What comes to mind when you think of these animals? If your answer has changed, it’s okay. It does not mean we love the animals any less, if anything, it means we love them more.