Miami

No promises here. Just going to see where this goes for a bit. I make pictures every week and most of them are never seen by anyone other than me. Most of my favorite photos have never been seen through social media. I’m going to try to get more work out.

I’m in a new landscape. None of these places are over-trodden to me yet, as the analogous places of other cities are. Maybe it’s just tarot; seeing what I want. I invite any viewer to do the same.

Patterns.

Linger on an image.

There’s a reward.

Maybe.

My last series was extremely deliberate across the board. This time, for now at least, I’m okay with some blur and grain. Maybe it’s the dynamic energy of Miami. Florida is known for having a very saturated color pallet. I may come around on that but for now at least, I’m an outsider, so I’ll reject that until I feel I can do it for real. Maybe I’m just a cranky New Englander.

Okay, maybe one color photo.

The Economics of Conservancies and the Rhino

I spent last week in the bush traveling through the Kunene region of Namibia’s north west. This region is a stronghold of the Herero and the Himba. The Himba are most recognizable for the women's distinctive red clay-coated braids. They still live a very traditional lifestyle, though they have a complex past with the Herero. The complexity is becoming more pronounced. First of all, the Himba are Herero. In the early 20th century the Germans committed acts of genocide against the Herero, who had at the time a larger presence in Namibia. This was at a time when many of them still lived as traditional pastoralists, as the Himba do now. The Herero not killed were scattered. Those that remained living traditionally had nothing and became known as beggars, or “himba.” Despite the derogatory nature of the name, it has stuck. Today they remain farmers and, unfortunately, still must resort to some degree to begging. Most of the Himba stay in their small family villages, but come to town to offer jewelry and carvings they make to tourists.

Aside from tourism, there is little economic opportunity for many rural living people.

The Herero, largely farmers as well, are more modernized and can have contentious relations with the Himba. I spent a week traveling with a group of Herero who represented two conservancies that are extremely important for the conservation of black rhinos. They were touring the conservancies and discussing plans for making these areas self-supporting. The conversations were typically in regards to locations for and viability of new travel lodges. As we traveled the area, another topic that frequently came was the Himba. The Himba have become a frustration to land managers. There has been a years-long court battle trying to evict these semi-nomadic people from these conservation areas. It is not a comfortable issue to be tangled in. On the one hand, the Himba are some of the poorest people in Namibia, keeping their wealth as cattle and goats. These livestock can easily be decimated in times of drought, like five-year long drought Kunene is enduring now. The Himba often are in desperation, searching for water and new grazing lands. On the other hand, their grazing practices are hugely damaging to the ecology of these conservancies on which critically endangered animals rely. The Herero cite the fact that much of the northern part of the country is community owned and the Himba are free to graze any of those areas. The Herero are desperate for tourism in the area as money from abroad is vital to support conservation efforts. In short, the solution being levied is to evict the Himba and bring in tourism. Here I must withhold opinion and remain an observer. It is neither my culture nor business to decide the right answer. There is a spectrum of stakeholders on the land: poor farmers to local conservationists to wealthy outsiders.

A luxury lodge whose profits would go towards conservation efforts. Money ran out prior to completion and new funding is currently being sought out. Springbok pass in the foreground.

A pastoralist Himba village, one of many being evicted from conservation lands due to impact of their grazing on the ecosystem.

The black rhinos are imperiled. Of the 4000 remaining, half of them live in Namibia. Poaching of their horns for use in traditional medicine and as a status symbol has become rampant and their numbers remain in decline. In economic terms, their value is in tourism and in illegal extractive use. These values are at the moment mutually exclusive. Poachers themselves are painted as greedy murderers, but many of them choose to poach out of desperation to feed their families. While the international price for rhino horn is currently as high as $65,000 per pound; greater than that of gold and cocaine, the local poachers barely make any profit. They may be paid as little as $50 for a rhino horn. Certain groups in the area have taken up a nuanced and hopeful strategy to protect the rhino. Rhinos need to be observed and tracked by people who understand the animals and the land they inhabit. It turns out that some of the most qualified people to do this are themselves convicted poachers. Becoming protectors of the rhino is an essential role to be performed, and provides an important income for these people.

Cutting off a rhino’s horn has become an act no longer done by poachers alone. It has actually become a technique used by conservationists. Eliminate the product, and the poacher has no reason to kill except out of spite. However, the problem that arises is that the animal loses its horn. The horn is essentially a modified clump of hair that regrows, but it is needed by the animal for self-defense. This blurs the notion of what it means to be wild as these animals must be managed on some level.

Through intimate understanding of the ecosystem and rhinoceros ecology, master trackers are able to locate and monitor the animals over dramatic, harsh landscapes.

Black rhino horns are often preemptively removed to dissuade poachers from killing the animals.

Straight Lines and Skewed Notions

Almost one month into my time in Namibia now and I am glad to say I have been finding a concrete project to focus on. I am following a maxim I was told during my service in the Marine Corps: Look for straight lines in nature; they are uncommon and typically a sign of human infrastructure.

I am using this guidance to highlight the lasting impact humankind has on the natural environment. The continent of Africa is often portrayed, through global travel magazines to tourists at least, as a pristine place of wild beauty, untouched by mankind. It's an ironic notion, especially considering that Homo sapiens speciated on this continent. What we think of as typical wildlife and nature photography excludes all man-made infrastructure despite the fact that many of the photographs taken were done so on game reserves and wildlife preserves with luxury lodges worthy of American and European elite.

I want to refute this notion and angle my camera to include in the frame instances of human presence and artifact. Most of what I have done so far has been black and white as I feel this accentuates the straight anthropogenic geometries that stand out from nature. By highlighting this I hope to convey the constant tension felt with human-wildlife interactions, predator-livestock conflicts, rampant poaching, and growing populations with ensuing construction.

Recently a good friend of mine attended a wildlife conference here in Windhoek. It was an internationally attended conference. I found it interesting when she told me how similar so many of these conflicts are regardless of the location in the world. Namibia is a large country, but with a population of only 2 million. It has the lowest population density of any country in Africa, yet it shares all of the challenges of any other country, and more.

Starting in Namibia

I arrived in Namibia at the beginning of the month to investigate the poaching issues in the country and present them through photography. Namibia has the second-lowest population density of any country in the world, but is a huge stage for international interactions due to its incredible wealth of controversial natural resources. Diamonds and rhinoceros for instance. These have huge international prices and such a small country has a difficult task of how to best manage them. I’m hoping to be able to work with rhinos, but they are in such low numbers and are under so much threat, it is unclear how much opportunity I will have. That being said, the first week was full of meetings with many stakeholders representing different views and organizations spanning the country. Things are progressing, but slowly.

There are many other topics I can work on as well. I enjoyed the series I made last year about invasive plant species in the Boston area, and have been researching the invasive plant issues in Namibia as well. Cacti, for instance are an entirely New World plant family that are becoming a nuisance here. By their nature they create natural barriers that can cause movement issues for wildlife, livestock, and farmers alike. This could be a fascinating project, especially after the feedback I received from my last residency at Lesley University. A few large, abstract prints with an accompanying photography book that explains these issues could be a successful project.

Poaching is also an issue not limited to rhinos and elephants. Though they may not have the same international value, many game species are poached as trophies and for meat. There could be something there as well.

Finally, Cape Town, South Africa has been in the new lately as they are projected to run out of water in the next few months. Namibia is extremely arid and has similar water conservation issues. The capital, Windhoek, was a first in the world when many years ago they made a state-of-the-art water recycling facility. They are able to recycle 70% of their water. Still, water usage in and out of the city is a constant concern. I am limited from all of these only by varying degrees of accessibility and safety.

An armored katydid (Acanthoplus discoidalis) hides within an invasive cactus native to the Americas. — An armored katydid (*Acanthoplus discoidalis*) hides within an invasive cactus native to the Americas.