Dreams in Africa

2009-09-22T13:47:00.000-07:00

I can honestly say that coming home from Africa was one of the hardest things I've had to do. Everything about leaving that place just felt so wrong. I remember the details of that day so clearly as it was quite miserable, not because I didn't want to be home, more because I didn't want to be away from Venetia. I missed my family and friends terribly as I always do, but I left Africa with the feeling that I was leaving my heart behind. Everything else had kind of lost its luster. I recall spending my entire flight from Johannesburg to Amsterdam trying to figure out how I could eventually get back. I was half-crazed with the idea. The first words I said to my mom after stepping off the airplane in Portland were, "Mom, I have to go back." She could see it in my eyes.

Before leaving for Africa I had secured a great apartment in Seattle with one of my best friends. I knew it would be a bit of a struggle finding work when I got home, so I headed back up to Seattle and hit the ground running. Before I knew it, I had three jobs. It wasn't long before I realized that I was burning the candle at both ends, so I scaled back to the two jobs that paid the bills; Restaurant (Bastille) and Nannying. I have never worked restaurants nor have I ever been a nanny, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. As it turned out, I fell in love with all the people that I was privileged to work with at Bastille and I got to care for a sweet little baby named Alistair, and his sister Lila and brother Emerson. My days were full and I fell into bed exhausted at night, but I loved it.

I was a busy bee over the summer, but I did find time to do a few fun things. For my 30th birthday my mom gave me something I've always wanted; skydiving. It was the best thing I've ever done. And to top it all off, my uncle Dennis was my tandem. It was amazing.

I also was lucky enough to get to go on several Stingray pub-crawl rides with my peeps in Seattle. Thanks guys, you made my summer...again.
In early August, I got an email that changed everything. The email was from Venetia, and it was everything I was hoping for, all the way back to my time in Patagonia. I was officially being invited to go back to Africa as an intern. My decision was made for me. Africa was calling, and I would answer without hesitation, no matter what it took. I gave notice, bought my tickets, worked out what felt like mountains of details, and now here I am, sitting in Atlanta, waiting to board my flight back to that beloved place. I can't begin to tell how this feels. In so many ways it feels like I need to pinch myself. How did any of this happen? How did I get so lucky? I know it's true love because I'm giving up good coffee and hot baths to go live in tents often shared by mice, too many spiders to count, and bats that pee on your face.

And then there's Franco...

I'll arrive tomorrow morning, around 8 am Pacific ST, and Franco will be there to fetch me. From there we'll stay in Pretoria for a night, and then we're off to Venetia. I have no idea what lies ahead, all I really have is the love from all of you behind me. And that's enough, no matter what. I already feel like the luckiest soul alive simply for that.

To be continued...

2009-09-22T12:29:00.000-07:00

I figured I might include a favorites page, complete with all that has Africa steeling my heart.

New good friends

The newly invented "Mopane Shades"-for the days you forget your sunglasses...
And friends who gladly wear them with you.

Chris, our fearless leader

Being out on drive

Franco

The geography: In this picture you can see Botswana to the left, Zimbabwe to the right, and South Africa in the foreground.

Cultures of the past

Cultures of the present

The enormity of it: This is an elephants print around my boot.

Teaming wildlife

Baobab trees

Pesky vervet monkeys

Hornbills (Zazoo anyone?)

Horny Bill, our beloved

The tireless dung beetles

Never knowing what you'll come across (perhaps a chameleon)

The nightly show in the sky

The gorgeous birds (lilac-breasted roller)

The curiosity of the giraffes

Breath-taking moments

The fiery African Skies

2009-09-22T12:03:00.001-07:00

In light of the African Wild Dog's critically endangered status, there are a lot of focus studies and rehabilitation efforts in Africa at the moment. Packs are becoming more and more scarce and are mostly limited to wildlife reserves. There is a lot to love about these spindly little creatures, beginning with those lovely satellite dish ears!

During our time at Venetia, two wild dogs were habituated in a bohma (large fenced-in area used as transitional space to get the animals acquainted with both new domain and the pack). We were fortunate enough to go watch them feed on a couple of occasions.

Wild dogs are known for their keen hunting abilities. They hunt as a pack mind and communicate constantly with one another with yips and cries to bring prey down.

Unfortunately a number of factors have greatly diminished the species' numbers; the largest factor being the advancement of human population onto ever shrinking hunting grounds. They also fall victim to competition, including the lion.

Wild dogs are beautiful, complicated animals. I hope that the efforts prove to be enough to save the species.

2009-09-20T22:51:00.000-07:00

When I journeyed to Africa I had a lot of hopes. Not expectations, just hopes. One of the greatest of them was to see the almighty lion. The Kings of Africa.

I'll never forget the first time we saw them. We went on afternoon drive after we hadn't found anything during morning drive. I was on telemetry which meant that I was responsible for honing in on the signal given off by the radio collar worn by one of the adult females, Thika. As we drew closer, the frequency dropped from a +2 down to a -5. At a -2.5 you must sit down in the vehicle because you're within view of the animals. At a -5 you're nearly on top of them and everyone in the Mahindra is searching madly through the scrub for any sign or movement to indicate the pride.

As the frequency reached a thumping -5, I held the aerial of the telemetry high above my head. As I spun it around, searching for a stronger signal in any direction, it became clear that it was strong in all directions, meaning they were very close to us. Adrenaline was coursing through me and I was more excited than I can remember feeling in a long time. At that moment Kim whispered, "Holy shit, they're right behind us!!" I froze. I don't know if I thought they'd eat me if I moved, or if I was just in shock with the thought that a pride of wild lions sat just behind our truck. I slowly lowered the aerial and turned. Tears came to my eyes instantly as my breath caught in my throat. There they were; beautiful, stoic, and wild. We had found the pride.

The pride is six deep and is led by a massive boy named Blade. The two adult sisters, Thika and Pikanin are responsible for the majority of the hunting. Three cubs were born a little over a year ago--they have not yet been named.

The pride wanders continuously, searching the woodland savannah for their next meal. They hunt in the cool of night, and sleep through the intense heat of the day. They typically need to eat every 2-4 days.

Always watchful, their curiosity is mingled with caution.

The cubs are always more restless and eager to play.

I couldn't stop taking pictures of this little girl.

She's curled up for the afternoon next to her aunt Pikanin.

This is the mark of an Apex predator. Blade hardly even opened his eyes upon our arrival. He simply slept, undaunted by our presence.

The male cub is showing early signs of an impending mane. While it begins sparse and fair, it will soon grow into the same thick, full mane that his father bears.

As his mane grows in, his father will begin to see him as competition and he will eventually have to leave the pride.

In the mean time, he'll enjoy the same protection and comfort of the pride that his sisters do.

As sweet and cuddly as they look, I constantly had to remind myself that these are wild lions. They look docile, but even a movement as simple as standing up in the truck could reap havoc.

This is my favorite picture. This is one of the female cubs who happens to be the most curious. She could never seem to let us go. She was always the last one to watch us.

Blade's role in the pride is simple; procreate and dominate. His territory is his to protect, and along with that, his pride. He doesn't typically do the hunting, that's left up to the females. He will fight for his territory if necessary, which in turn protects his pride.

Every now and again he will separate himself from the pride and wander off on his own. During this time he typically won't eat as he doesn't hunt unless necessary. It's believed that he is looking for other mates and establishing his territory. It is during these periods that we can hear Blade on the reserve, up to 5 miles away, roaring somewhere in the darkness. He gives four short grunts followed by one longer roar. The shorter roars are communicative; he's calling out to his pride. The longer roar is territorial, establishing his home and that which he'll fight to protect. It's an amazing sound, one that rumbles in your bones like thunder and drives to the surface that long forgotten primal fear.
One early morning, around 4 am, I woke up to the exciting and terrifying sound of Blade's night chorus. He was really close, that much was clear by the sheer volume of his roars. Susan, one of the staff, ran out with the telemetry and picked him up on a -5. He was in camp, wandering through in search of his pride. I've never felt a feeling like that, exhilaration paired with pure fear. It was glorious and I lay in my bed holding as still as I could so as to hear every sound of this beastie.

Here Blade's testing the air, probably picking up our scent.

The insisors of a male adult lion can reach four inches in length. Here he is mid-yawn.

Such a pretty boy.

2009-09-20T22:29:00.000-07:00

One day while we were driving across the reserve to visit a bird hide, we encountered an elephant on the dusty road just ahead of us. As we drew near, one elephant became two, and before long two became four. We brought the vehicle to a stop as we realized we were in the middle of a heard of 30-40 elephants.
The heard, led by a matriarch ranges in age but consists mostly of females. Only young bulls who are still being reared remain with the heard. Adult bull elephants roam alone in search of possible mates.
The adult females work together to raise their young. They're intelligent and have an old soul feel about them.

Their offspring are fiercely protected by the entire heard.

An adult female feeding.

The secretion at this elephant's temple is hormonal.

Sitting amongst such intelligent, symbolic animals was one of the greatest honors I've known.

2009-09-20T21:11:00.000-07:00

About two weeks into the expedition we were given the opportunity to experience the mountains of South Africa. We went for three nights and four days into the vast peaks of lush forest, situated about three hours from base camp. The camp itself is called Leshiba and is teaming with wildlife that roams freely, right down to the infamous dung beetles and multitudes of pepper ticks.

We took morning hikes daily. Here I'm perched on a precarious rock on one such hike.

Once there, we settled into our camp which hosts several huts. We were the only lucky souls there so we actually could have enjoyed our own huts if we preferred. Kim, Jen and I decided that our preference was to share. We bunked in our hut quite happily.

Our little compound :)

Naturally, diplomacy is not only encouraged but crucial for foreign relations.

Just beyond the patio of our kitchen lay a pond or watering hole. Each day we would find that visitors would swing by to take a bath, grab a drink, or just roll in the muddy banks. Such visits would usually be announced with a crash through the brush, followed by the heavy lumbering steps of our friend, a white (or square-lipped) rhino.

Here's our girl. We didn't know this, but she gave birth to a calf only two days after we left.

One particular night we were standing out in the yard enjoying a beer and watching the starry sky when we heard a "crash" coming through. We quickly took our beer to the patio just in time to see a large male rhino walk only 60 feet from where we stood. It was astonishing and humbling to say the least.

A group of rhinos is actually called a crash. It's easy to imagine why.

White Rhino Print

Leshiba is home to a great number of giraffe. You literally can't go anywhere without encountering at least a couple of them. One morning we were fortunate enough to get to walk in on them. The perspective of standing on your own two feet only yards away from such an enormous animal is breath taking. They're shy creatures with a curiosity that has them watching you just as much as you watch them. They are earth's tallest animal. They have wonderful eyesight and their name is derived from an Arabic word that means swift-moving.

And of course, they're simply beautiful.

We also had daily visits from a family of warthogs. They too came to indulge in the waterhole.

This is a skink. It is a lizard like creature that dwells in the crags and cracks of rocks. They are brilliantly colored little guys.

Another common inhabitant of the forests and the bush of South Africa is the golden orb web spider. It is a large species that builds its webs between trees. The web itself is the strongest of any spider.

The mountains are a little piece of paradise...minus the ticks maybe.

2009-09-13T23:14:00.000-07:00

Chris Reviewing Reserve Maps

Finally, after all the training and preparation, we were ready to go out on game drives. I'll never forget the first time we loaded up in the Mahindras (open air jeeps used for the drives--pictured below), I had the nervous excitement of boarding a huge roller coaster. I couldn't imagine actually seeing the animals of Africa outside of a caged exhibit.

Kim and Rachelle, two of my besties on drive

Venetia is magical and teaming with life. It's difficult to drive around the 35,000 hectare reserve without seeing giraffe, zebras, impala, various antelope, elephants, hyena ...you name it. I rode around in the back with my eyes peeled for anything and everything, camera at the ready in case we were to encounter something. For this post, I think I'll let the photos speak for themselves.

Impala

A Male Cheetah During a Night Drive

Adult Female Elephant

Guinea Fowl

Six Bathing Hippos and an Ox Pecker
African Wildcat
Mother and Baby Giraffe
Sweet Baby

Old and Young; The Darker Colors Mark Age

Gemsbok Oryx (Pronounced Hembsbok); Adult Male

Horned Adder

Zebra Mother and Young

Adult Male Kudu
Our Dusty Trail

2009-09-13T22:44:00.000-07:00

Week one at Venetia was similar to Patagonia in that it was an intensive training week. We spent many hours of each day in lectures about safety, animal identification, and training on the telemetry equipment and triangulation methods. At the end of the week we had exams on all we had learned in lectures and had to perform our newly honed telemetry skills with mobile tracking and located a radio collar that had been planted in the bush. It was a bit intense and we all wanted to do well with what we had learned.

Following test day we had our first party night. One of the great things about Venetia is that once a week, usually Thursday or Friday, we have party night. We'd get cleaned up, buy our cash of beers (10 Rand each which is around $1 for a 20 ounce), and let our hair down. We played plenty of drinking games and usually found ourselves sprawled out under the stars in the sandy pass in front of the gates. Party nights are revered and gracious in that we usually would have the next day off. No drives, no duties, just recuperation. Much needed recuperation.

One of the many ways we found ourselves recuperating...did I mention that we have access to a pool?

2009-09-13T22:03:00.001-07:00

Fortunately I grew accustomed to the night chorus of the African bush and with the exception of having a tent mate who talked in her sleep, saying things in a low, grumbling voice like, "What is it?!", I learned to sleep through the night. (She scared the hell out of me on a few occasions) I began to have more vivid dreams, similar to those I'd have under the open sky in Patagonia. I also began the same routine of trying to stay awake so that I could hear as much as possible. I remember crawling in my bed and feeling the excitement I sometimes feel when I take my seat in the theater, anxiously awaiting the story that's about to unfold before me on the big screen. Though instead of a screen and actors the entertainment would come from a pack of black-backed jackals, squealing and whining as they communicated their hunt. Some nights it would be a troop of baboons, marked with the loud, low barks of the dominant male. Other nights it would be Blade, the huge male lion of the pride, calling out a long territorial roar, followed by four short grunts to call the pride back to him.
Every night was exciting because I never knew what it would hold or which sounds would stir me from my dreams.
(This is the view from my bed; it's a mesh window that looks out to the dry riverbed.)

These are fresh hyena tracks that we found early one morning after we woke to hyena calls. They were just outside the gates of camp.

2009-09-12T16:01:00.000-07:00

I would love to say that it was a pleasant trip, but if I did it would be a lie. The problem was and still is, that I cannot sleep on airplanes. I drug myself, wear comfortable clothes, listen to soothing music...nothing works. It's miserable at times, but all in the name of adventure.

(This is where the reserve Venetia is situated, in the lower half of the circle, just below the confluence of the Shashee and Limpopo rivers.)

Finally, after a 10 hour flight from Portland to Amsterdam, an 8 hour layover, an hour flight to London with a 3 hour layover, followed by an 11 hour flight to Johannesburg I had arrived. But only to wait another two hours to meet up with 7 perfect strangers with whom I'd bounce along in a van for another 7 hours to base camp. It's safe to say I was delirious; 54 hours without so much as a nap and I began to hallucinate, literally. At one point I was holding my camera in the van when we hit a bump. I jumped maniacally to right my camera that I now believed was a glass of red wine. At that point all I could do was laugh.

When we reached base camp in Venetia, we were all too excited to remember the fatigue that was bogging us down. The staff had prepared a meal for us and we ate with vigor. Chris, the camp manager then sat us down with paperwork, the kind you sign when you know it may end badly but you won't blame anyone if it does. He then began a sobering talk about the perils of the South African Bush. I couldn't help but notice the simple two-thread barbed wire fence that surrounded our humble camp. We were told as we glanced around at one another that the fencing would do nothing to deter lions, leopards, baboons or elephants. We were informed that lions do come into camp as do leopards on occasion. We were also told that a troop of baboons comes calling from time to time, and elephants like to rip out the water pipes. Chris then advised us to take care in looking under our beds at night as he had to remove a 2-meter snouted cobra (otherwise knowns as an Egyptian cobra) only the week before. We were also to check our bedding nightly for a small yellow spider with large black fangs called a sac spider. Apparently this spider searches out cotton and linens for its' hunting grounds and delivers a bite similar to the brown recluse in that its' venom rots your flesh. Awesome. Show me to my tent!

We were then, in two groups of four, shown to our tents; semi-permanent structures with cement foundations and walls of both canvas and mopane sticks. It became clear that anything that flies, crawls, or slithers would have little to no difficulty seeing itself in. Upon entrance into our particular tent, we met one such inhabitant. As we each lumbered our bags in, a seemingly floppy flying rat proceeded to make his rounds around and above our heads. We ducked and screetched and laughed as we realized that our pursuer was a bat. Luck be a lady, the damn thing flew right under the bed that I had just set my bags on. I shined my head torch under the bed and there he was, hanging like a happy little furry ornament, settled in for the night. Great, I could hardly give up the bed now. Better just get used to it. There's a saying in Africa, most likely drummed up by a seasoned visitor or native and if you've seen Blood Diamonds, you've heard it: This is Africa or TIA. Seeing how my sleepless flight led me to watching Blood Diamonds en route, I had this saying fresh in my mind and played it over and over as I nervously set up my mosquito net, all the while aware of the nestled fluffy bat just under my mattress.

After the usual preparations of brushing teeth, changing into PJs etc, I was ready to crawl in my bed. By the way, I lost count of the spiders that called our bathroom home (again, This is Africa) I climbed in my mozzy net and tucked it in tightly all around me. It was actually really cozy and secure. After writing in my journal for a time I shut off my head torch and lay there wondering how long it had been since I had actually slept last. I closed my eyes and tried like hell to drift off but the sounds of the bush are deafening when you're not used to them. All night long choruses of insects, bats, monkeys, black-backed jackals, hyenas, and sometimes lions go bump in the night, stirring one constantly to the surface and making sound sleep nearly impossible. That is, until you get used to it. On night number one, I was certainly not accustomed to the bush concerto. I lay there with my eyes wide opened, listening in disbelief to the noise. I didn't yet know what half of the noises came from so I wasn't sure how to depict which ones might eat me. Luckily, none of them did. Eventually, through the sheer need for rest after nearly 60 sleepless hours, my body began to give in and I drifted off. Finally sleep...for a few minutes that is. I then awoke to what felt like a mini power washer, streaming my eyes something wet. Instinct told me to shut my eyes as tight as I could manage and I began to search the files in my mind for what on earth could have done that. The only thing that I could think of was a spitting cobra. Spitting cobras are prevalent in northern South Africa and they're deadly accurate. I told myself to stay calm and not panic, and for God's sake, keep my eyes shut tight! I thought hard about what to do and finally settled on waking up my tent mates. "Is anyone awake?!" I said in a shaky, weird voice. Kay, a sweet and humorous woman from London answered me with a sleepy, "Yes". "What spits in Africa?" I inquired. "It's probably just the bat." She said. I breathed the deepest sigh of relief and told her that the bat just peed on my face. We both started to laugh as I climbed out of my mozzy net, slipped on my flip flops and made my way to the sink to wash my face. I couldn't stop laughing, maybe from the relief, maybe because it's just hilarous, and most definitely because I was probably more tired than I've ever been in my life. TIA.

I figured you'd want to see him one more time. Little beast.

2009-09-12T15:05:00.000-07:00

On April 5th of this year, almost exactly six weeks after my return from Patagonia, I found myself at the airport, again preparing for long flights and the unknown. I had never touched a toe on the soils of Africa so my mind was reeling with wonder. In my experience, the very best way to experience travel is to drop any and all expectations. That includes all the b.s. that you hear about and see in the media. The unfortunate thing about media is that it's in the business of selling news and fear is a best-seller, something I always try to keep in mind especially during travel. That's not to say that one should not take heed of warnings and precautions, but I believe an open mind is the necessary antidote to the atrocities we witness on CNN.
Africa: Many probably think of it as being a land of destitute; full of starving children with boated bellies and parents dying of AIDS. Others think of it as being a wilderness, full of hungry predators that will gladly eat you on your way out to have a look at the sunset. Some probably picture violence, no doubt stemming from images of seven year olds carrying M-16s as tribal wars flared in Rwanda and other sections of Equatorial Africa. Some picture Jane Goodall, others see Nelson Mandela. My point is, you could let any or all of these perceptions change the way you experience a place. Africa is a place of destitute, but it is also a land of change and promise. As I sat down and made my little nest in 12A, I shut my eyes and began to open the doors and windows of my mind. And as our ship took flight, I finally opened my heart to whatever lay ahead in the great continent known as the Motherland, the place where it's said that all life on Earth began.

2009-09-12T14:37:00.000-07:00

I get a sneaking feeling in my bones before big change comes about. I feel it in a sixth sense, in the vein of ambivalence or disconnect. The night before I left for Africa, I suddenly felt as if I didn't care about going. I didn't feel excited and instead almost felt as though I didn't want to go at all; a sure sign that something was about to change. I knew even that night; I sensed it, well before I boarded the flight, that Africa would have my heart.

2009-09-12T13:47:00.000-07:00

Returning home from Patagonia was a bit surreal. It was difficult to wrap my head around what I had just experienced during the past six weeks, combined with the loss of a loved one at home, and rounded out with the preparation needed for another six-week departure. I really wanted time to just absorb the magic of Patagonia and how fortunate I felt for getting to be there, experiencing the life of a nomadic researcher. I had plenty of good intentions on getting this blog started, but of course as it were, life had other plans for me. Instead I spent as much time with my family and friends as I could, I managed to secure a great apartment in Queen Anne, Seattle with one of my best friends, and I definitely ate! I didn't mention in my Patagonia post that food was merely a fuel source to keep our bodies going for the frequent 10-hour a days with 60+ pounds on our backs. To say the diet lacked in tasty composition is putting it mildly. We cooked with MSR stoves which yielded daily meals of boiled vegetebles (mostly onions, carrots and cucumber things called zapatitos) and either pasta or rice. Sounds okay but trust me, it wears on the taste buds and appetite! I'll include a picture of our newly honed MSR cooking skills to give you an idea.
So, many visits and a few pounds heavier, I began to feel like I was home again. With the help of my family (thank you!) I was able to get all moved in to our new place and get settled before leaving again. One of my best friends also gave me the greatest honor in asking me to be maid of honor in her wedding, so planning became a priority too. We were able to go get her wedding dress, veil, and my bridesmaid dress picked out too which was an amazing feat in one day.
As the next departure neared, I slowly packed and prepared for a place I've only dreamed of one day seeing, smelling, hearing and experiencing; Africa. Just the word itself invites notions of a world full of dark mystery and primitive survival. I was more than exited, I was bewildered at the opportunity. I'd be living in the middle of nowhere in an unforgiving land where animals outnumber people in dizzying proportions. It was exactly what I was looking for and as far as I could tell, I was ready.

2009-09-10T23:38:00.000-07:00

I returned home from my six weeks in Patagonia in mid February to heart-breaking news; some one very dear to me and many others had lost his battle with cancer. Tim was my best friend's father and I count my blessings every day for the great fortune of knowing and loving him. He was a wonderfully generous man who gave so much of himself to his family and friends. I was blessed to be able spend as much time with him and the family as I could just before I left, much of it being in the hospital or at the center where he received his treatments. I couldn't bear the thought of being away for his passing, his funeral, or to grieve with his family, but he passed when I was up in the mountains, far too far away from phones, computers and mail. This world lost a bit of its color the day Tim left us to go home. He was a great, great man with a beautiful soul. We miss you and love you so much Tim.

2009-08-11T21:52:00.000-07:00

Finally, after more than a year of promising I've created a blog to help keep up with everyone. As many of you know, I've switched things up in my life...a lot. After 11 years of chugging along at good ol' Costco Wholesale, I decided that enough was enough. I found an organization that runs volunteer projects worldwide, gave a healthy ten-month notice at Costco, took a leap of faith and boarded a flight that would mark both an ending-but more importanty, a beginning.

First adventure: Patagonia, Argentina.

In the shadowy spine of the great Andes mountains I found myself in the pristine beauty of an earth untouched, undisturbed and uninhabited by our clumsy kind. I spent six weeks with 9 others of the same mind, hiking with our lives on our backs through the wilds of Patagonia; a land known in the hearts of the few wandering gauchos that remain amongst the quiet. It's the only place I've ever experienced where you can hike for six days straight and never see a single wrapper, cigarette butt or footprint. It was perfection, and for the first time in my life I let my breath go from my body with a peace I've never known; the peace of being part of something that is undeniably as it should be.

We trekked the length of each day, then set camp, cooked dinner and fell exhausted into our bags with eager descent into the vivid dreams of sleeping under the stars. There are so many stars with such brilliance in Patagonia that even the constellations are difficult to pick out. Night after night I'd fall into a deep slumber in the company of the Southern Cross and an upside-down Orion's Belt. I can remember so many nights where I'd try desperately to stay awake, if only to watch the brilliant night sky a little longer. It was simply magnificent. I'll hold Patagonia in my heart as a most cherished and profound experience for the rest of my days.

The main objectives of our work in Patagonia involved research of the Andean condor, aracaria tree, cachana (parakeet) studies, and finally red deer consensus. We worked hard, long but exquisite hours, tasting the research of a scientist and getting our hands dirty in the rich soils of conservation. It was fulfilling and grand and we founds ourselves constantly in awe of the Godly vistas before us.

I found a peace in Patagonia that I'm sure will sustain me throughout my life. For in the most chaotic of times, I'll have a place to go in my heart where the only sound is that of the Andean winds blowing softly across the grassy valleys of the Steppe.

I return often enough in my mind, closing my eyes and reaching for the silence. And even if I never find that silence again, I'll always be grateful to have known it at least once.