*Originally posted on June 24, 2010. Moved from previous blog.

Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship Final Report, Ryan T. Klataske, June 2010

Looking back on my year as Rotary Ambassadorial Scholar I feel incredibly thankful and honored to have had so many diverse experiences and met so many inspiring people during my time in Namibia and Southern Africa. I am particularly grateful to District 5710 and the Manhattan Rotary Clubs for making this scholarship and opportunity possible. I have been honored to serve as your ambassador to Namibia and District 9350.

Most students that receive the Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship choose to take formal classes at a university, and the majority of scholars that come from overseas to Southern Africa choose to live in one of the large cities in South Africa. However, thanks to Rotary, I was able to use my scholarship to fund a year of field-based research in rural Namibia as part of my PhD in Sociocultural Anthropology at Michigan State University. The Otjiwarongo Rotary Club, located in a small town in north-central Namibia, offered to serve as my host club. I felt honored to be the first Ambassadorial Scholar in their 50-year history, and although I traveled frequently around the country, I always had a home base and support system in Otjiwarongo.

In addition to attending most of the weekly meetings and participating in the majority of fundraisers and projects organized by the local Rotary Club, I opened myself up to opportunities to serve and interact with the community. For example, I gave two presentations to classes at the Otjiwarongo Secondary School related to linguistic and cultural diversity and environmental conservation. I also helped to lead a school group excursion to the Cheetah Conservation Fund, where we toured the facility, watched a film about community-based conservation and held a discussion about the students’ thoughts and opinions on conservation, tourism, agriculture and other cultural and environmental issues in Namibia.

I was invited to provide training on questionnaire and survey research methods as part of the 3^rd International Integrated Livestock, Wildlife and Predatory Management course at the Cheetah Conservation Fund, attended by community leaders and environmental managers from a number of countries in Southern Africa. Following the training session, I assisted the participants in the application of these methods during a day of research at a nearby resettlement farm.

In cooperation with my professor and advisor at Michigan State and another colleague—both anthropologists with decades of experience in Namibia and Southern Africa—we published a book chapter on indigenous issues in Namibia[1], describing current matters including land conflicts and reforms, natural resource exploitation, labor struggles and movements for indigenous rights. Additionally, as an example of my desire to engage with community concerns and utilize my training in research and writing, I helped to organize research and produce a letter of concern at the request of local parents about the potential risks of long-term, low level exposure to electromagnetic radiation due to the placement of cell phone towers near school children.

I took thousands of photos during my year in Namibia, and I provided prints for many of the families and friends who hosted me, especially those without the financial means to own cameras or make prints of their own. Photos of our families, loved-ones and ourselves are something we can easily take for granted. Through this awareness, I found such satisfaction in seeing the joy that having photos can bring to others—a simple gesture of goodwill in which others find great value. Three photos of farm worker families—including one capturing the joys and happiness of childhood—won awards in the 2009 American Anthropological Association photo contest.

Throughout the year, I also had the opportunity to visit and give presentations to a number of Rotary clubs across Namibia, in the Cape Town area of South Africa and in Luanda, Angola. My wife, Rachel, joined me in Cape Town and we visited the Blouberg, Somerset West and Constantia Clubs. We also volunteered with the Blouberg Club in their “Big Walk” fundraiser, in which 35,000 people walk from different locations around Cape Town and converge together in the shape of the Rotary wheel. Following our visit to South Africa, we traveled up through the south of Namibia and visited Rotary Clubs in Rosh Pinah and Lüderitz. Shortly before Christmas, we visited the Swakopmund Rotary Club and helped to hand out Christmas presents to children at a soup kitchen in one of the poorest areas of the city.

After visiting the Luanda Rotary Club in March, I traveled to Huambo in the central highlands of Angola, where I was invited to spend over a week photographing and writing about a project supported by World Vision, Rotary, and the Gates Foundation involving agricultural development, seed banks, and microfinance for rural smallholders. I am currently in the process of revising and finalizing documents that can be utilized by the project, as well as an article describing my experiences. I will make these documents available to Rotary as soon as they are complete.

In my research on the social, cultural and ecological dynamics of conservation in Namibia, I have come away with new knowledge and information about the motivations, challenges and successes of rural peoples’ efforts to manage wildlife and conserve their natural resources. My research project focuses on private conservancies in Namibia—locally planned and collectively managed areas of private land in which landholders pool their resources for purposes of collective wildlife management and nature conservation, tourism, and wildlife utilization. In my research I worked with German and Afrikaans-speaking largeholder farmers (or ranchers as we would we say in Kansas), farm workers and their families, tourists and trophy hunters, non-profit organizations, government employees, as well as rural people from a diversity of ethnicities and background.

One of the most inspiring individuals I came to know was an incredibly poor but immensely proud, formerly landless resettlement farmer named Alfred^* who shared with me a level of friendship, generosity and wisdom that surpassed any connection that could be gained solely from questionnaires or impassionate interviews. During the time I spent with him on his small plot of thorn-chocked land and at his meager homestead constructed over time from salvaged and refurbished materials, I gained incredible insight from his unceasing optimism, hard work ethic and happiness. I learned about his passion for conserving the environment and his struggle to organize a conservancy comprised of other resettlement farmers, despite a myriad of obstacles including neglect from government and much of the conservation community. My plan is to return to Namibia for a number of months next year to complete my research project, and in addition to my dissertation, I hope to make many of my findings and analyses available in other useful and accessible ways. Hopefully, some of the insights or awareness generated from my research can contribute to the lives of rural people such as Alfred and similar efforts to conserve and sustainably manage natural resources and environments.

Although I felt prepared for my year abroad after having lived, worked and studied oversees before, there are always unexpected aspects of life in new places that cannot be prepared for. The Rotary Foundation provided a useful orientation prior to my departure that shared the ways in which other scholars’ incorporated these inevitable occasions into their diverse ambassadorial experiences. I would suggest to Rotary, however, that the Foundation share some advice and information to host clubs—in particular host clubs which have never hosted a scholar or who have little knowledge of the scholarship—which can highlight the range of possibilities for hosting scholars and the collection of experiences learned over time by other clubs. To future scholars who will encounter a new place, I encourage you to lace up your shoes and start walking. And as you walk, open your eyes and tune your senses, explore your surroundings and open yourself to other people, experiences and opportunities. View each day as an opportunity for discovery, and explore even the most “everyday” moments and places. You are always an ambassador; there is no start and stop. Lead by example and remember that this is often your greatest instrument of change.

In my roles as a both a researcher and as an Ambassadorial Scholar my responsibilities and goals overlapped and interconnected in many ways. In both roles I had the opportunity to interact with diverse groups of people, build relationships, learn about different ways of life, and share about my background and country. The Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship asked me to be an “ambassador of goodwill” to my host country, and in addition to presentations and projects, I came to view myself as an ‘everyday ambassador’—spreading goodwill and promoting understanding and compassion through my everyday activities and interactions. Hopefully, along the way, I inspired a few other people to do the same.

* Name has been changed.

[1] Hitchcock, Robert K., Megan Biesele, and Ryan T. Klataske. (2010) Namibia. In The Indigenous World 2010. Cæcilie Mikkelsen
ed. Pg. 545-553. Copenhagen, Denmark: International Work Group for Indigenous Affairs. http://www.iwgia.org/sw162.asp

*Originally posted on December 25, 2009. Moved from previous blog.

A few weeks ago I happily moved out of the German school hostel and onto a nearby cattle ranch and hunting farm. Although my room at the Schülerheim provided a good base for my initial research in the region, a place to practice my German, and many contacts with local farmers, I decided it was time to narrow down and focus my research on a small group of private farms and one or two commercial, or ‘freehold’, conservancies. I’m currently living on one of the oldest German farms in Namibia, dating back to around the turn of the 20^th century. The road to the farm winds through thick acacia savanna and passes over bluffs with vast views of the surrounding plains and rocky hills. Groups of oryx, kudu and warthogs dash across the roads and a family of giraffes frequently lingers near the entrance to the farm.

As part of my research on commercial conservancies and private farms in Namibia, I’ve recently attended a variety of meetings, conducted interviews with farmers and farm workers, hung out at cattle auctions, observed the operation of hunting farms and guest lodges, and participated in a conservancy game count from an airplane so small and light that the pilot could pick up the rear end and move the plane into position. Our runway was a straight stretch of sandy country road.

On many of the farms I help ‘fight’ fires, herd and care for cattle, hunt for meat as well as an assortment of other farm activities. I assist the farm workers in their daily tasks and join them at their homes in the ‘village’ for drinks and conversation. Lunches with farm families are generally heavy German food—schnitzel, sauerbraten, steaks and other forms of meat and potatoes.

Recently, the farmer and his wife in charge of the 10,000-hectare farm where I have been living left for a four-day excursion to the capitol city, which, as I discovered, left me as the defacto ‘farmer’ in charge. I had little desire to be the big, bad farm “boss” like many of the other farmers in the region, but instead I stressed my role as a researcher and helping hand. Nevertheless, I became sought out as a source of approval and authority, and as the only one allowed to drive the farmer’s Toyota 4×4, I became responsible for collecting forage and fencing at the local farm store, transporting families to and from town, helping workers fix machinery and delivering feed to bulls in far-off corrals.

After much anticipation, Oktoberfest brought a night of beer, sausage, and dancing to Otjiwarongo, as well as an opportunity for German-Namibians to live out their fantasies of the traditions of the German forefathers (Yes, I—as do many Americans—do this too, and I would have worn lederhosen if I could have found some).

Rachel arrived in Southern Africa two months ago, and unfortunately, she returns home next week. After a long drive through the open plains and shrublands of southern Namibia and the Northern Cape, I made my way to Cape Town and greeted Rachel at the gate of the bustling airport.

During our ten days in Cape Town, we were graciously hosted in the homes of Rotarians and visited the Blouberg, Somerset West and Constantia Rotary Clubs.We also had the opportunity to assist the Blouberg Club in their annual fundraising walk, in spite of the rainy weather. While in the Cape, we went wine-tasting, visited the Cape of Good Hope and the southern-most point in Africa, hung out with penguins, and even had the chance to meet up with my younger brother, Cary, and his Capetonian lady-friend.

On the drive north through Namibia, we visited Rotary Clubs in the isolated mining town of Rosh Pinah and the colorful German colonial fishing village of Lüderitz. After visiting the sand-swept ghost town of Kolmanskop, which once overflowed with beer, imported caviar, spectacular entertainment and diamonds, we traveled north on dusty back roads, through small towns with names like Helmeringhausen and Maltahöhe.

Following a number of weeks of research on farms and commercial conservancies with my trusty sidekick (Rachel), we traveled to Damaraland and the communal conservancies of the Northwest with my Namibian friend, Uapii. We camped under an ancient rock shelter, most likely once the residence of San or Damara peoples. As the sun was beating down with its full intensity, we drove for hours along winding paths of rock and sand, until we arrived at a remote Himba village, where we were invited to pitch our tent for the night. The stars in this distant part of Namibia are unlike anywhere I have ever seen. During the days, we tracked elusive desert elephants and hiked through grassy hills and rocky canyons with Uapii and a local Himba herder. Our short visit to the Northwest ended with a memorable visit to Uapii’s home village. We enjoyed an afternoon of conversation on mats made from cattle hides, shared a dinner of “fat cakes”—a Herero favorite similar to fry bread prepared in a cast iron pot over a small fire. We slept in a cozy house made from mud and dung and woke the next morning to roosters and the first rays of sun

I leave you on this Christmas day from Swakopmund, a lively coastal colonial German town surrounded by the sand dunes of the Namib Desert. Instead of turkey, ham and a Midwestern blizzard, we have fresh oysters, Munich-style weisbier and lots of sun.

Often in Namibia, however, and especially at Christmas time, it’s easy to feel the vastness that divides the poor from the wealthy, as well as the emptiness in between. In fact, this country has one of the greatest divisions of wealth in the entire world. On Christmas Eve, we joined the local Rotary Club in handing out small Christmas presents to children at a soup kitchen in the informal settlement of tin shacks and makeshift homes in the desert outside of town, where children survive off of others’ waste in the nearby garbage dump. Unfortunately, this gesture of goodwill actually only makes a minor and ephemeral difference in the lives of these impoverished children, but it is a definite and humbling reminder of how lucky I am, how thankful I should be for all that I have, and how much more we can all do to make this world a better place.

Merry Christmas!

Ryan