September 1996
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Kalahari Years
N. Luangwa, '86-'97
N. Luangwa, '97-'07
N. Luangwa, '07-'10
Selkirk Grizzlies
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September 1996
North Luangwa National Park

Dear Everybody,

August was the 10th anniversary of our North Luangwa Conservation Project -- and our second anniversary since an elephant was shot in the park. For centuries long lines of elephants have crossed the wide, sweeping Luangwa river. Trunk to tail, as many as one hundred large gray beasts would splash boldly through the slow moving current, with hippos and crocodiles sculling around them. They crossed where the current was lazy, the bottom firm, and the water not too deep for their infants. But in the 1970's, when poachers began ambushing their river crossings, the elephants changed tactics, mixing the places where they crossed, and coming to the Luangwa only under cover of darkness. And so we had been in the valley for almost a decade and yet had not seen this wonder of nature, this spectacle of elephants, large herds of them, fording one of the wildest rivers in Africa.

At dawn recently, we were camped under a tree on a high bank overlooking the Luangwa. A flock of yellow billed storks glided past just feet away, their wings 'swishing' on the still cool air. Then, as shafts of red sunlight began spearing through the trees along the bank, a 'splash-splash-splash' sounded from across the water. Just upstream of us ten elephants had crossed a wide sand bar. But as they waded into the water they suddenly stopped, half turned toward us, and raised their trunks high. They were taking our scent, their tails raised nervously, trying to decided whether to risk crossing with us there. They stood for nearly a minute, then hurried on through the river, their feet splashing fire from the water before the new sun. Only ten elephants, but they had crossed, in daylight, with us sitting close by. For us, and for the elephants, this represents another break-through on the road back.

Not long ago I joined Ronni Hadley, our Rural Health Care and Family Planning Coordinator, in the village of Katibunga, where she was training local women as Traditional Birth Attendants (TBA's) -- women schooled in mid-wifery, first aid, and family planning. Often these women are the only people in their villages with any such training. They were so alive, open and eager to learn! One evening after a meal of n'shima and boiled chicken, they asked us to dance with them. With a wry smile and a wink, one of the older women took me by the sleeve, pulling my face close. This dance, she said, is performed in secret, only among village women. Hidden in a large hut with our twenty friends, two of them began beating out a throbbing cadence on a drum as the others began to gyrate very suggestively. Immediately Ronni and I understood: For centuries village women have used these dances to graphically demonstrate marital responsibility to young girls! While we were exceedingly honored to have been included in such an intimate ceremony, we were even more relieved that we had not been expected to participate. By the time the dancers had wound down, I was dazed by the fact that I had probably learned more from the women of Katibunga than they had learned from us.

After the TBA graduation -- attended by local chiefs and other village dignitaries, all wearing their colorful chitenge cloths -- the women returned to their respective villages to help deliver healthy babies and promote family planning. We have since learned that they are using new dances, just as graphic and imaginative, to spread these messages. This may not be the method that the World Health Organization had in mind, but our new TBA's are successfully improving the lives of their fellow women.

Soon after the TBA training, our Conservation Education Program sponsored a drama competition among 14 schools near the park. Nature conservation was the theme of the sketches, and the winners would take their first ever safari into North Luangwa National Park. Our project trucks rounded up the children and brought them to Mpika. The Mukungule children acted out the devastating effects of deforestation, while those of Kombe demonstrated the value of controlling forest fires. But Mwamfushi took first prize. They played poachers being apprehended by scouts sneaking into the national park.

A few weeks later the Mwamfushi children piled into the back of our Unimog for the drive to the park. For the first time in their lives they saw zebra, wildebeest, impala, eland and hippos. And just as they were leaving our camp, Survivor, the young bull elephant, walked onto a small flood plain across the river. Not a word was spoken. The next generation of Zambians and a survivor of the poacher's war stared at each other across the river. They need each other. The silence and the depth of their stares told me all I needed to know. These children will not kill elephants when they grow up.

There are miracles all around us: 15 new sun flower presses, alternatives to poaching, have been installed in the villages; Kangwa Muchisa, the infamous poacher, has given up his rifle for a project loan to start a farm; North Luangwa has been completely re-colonized with wildlife. Just as important are the "miraculous" people who helped make this happen. People like Alex Haynes who volunteered as a bush pilot for several years, and whose contributions will remain long after he has gone. We love you and we'll miss you.

Gift and Georgia, the orphaned female and her calf, come to our camp regularly now. As a single mom and her infant, they represent a society utterly torn apart by the commercial poaching of the past. Females relatives 'normally' live in large matriarchal groups, but in North Luangwa, single mothers and their calves make up nearly one quarter of all groups. Although many of their infants die, these broken families are fighting to come back. They represent hope for the next generation.

North Luangwa experienced some of the worst poaching in all of Africa. Today it is one of the best protected national parks on the continent. But this success is tentative. Even as I write this informants tell us that commercial poachers are trying to reorganize for resumed attacks on the park, hoping that CITES will overturn its ivory ban. We must help government game scouts prepare for this threat, and at the same time offer enough alternative community development so poachers cannot recruit local people to help them.

The battle is ours, but the war is not yet won. Please let us win it. We need your support now more than ever. Thank you.

Cheers,
Mark and Delia

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