I am of the strong opinion that ‘we only fear that which we do not know’.
Take spiders for example, I’m sure they give most people the heebie-jeebies, but read more about them and you’ll learn that South Africa has over 2,000 species of spiders, but only three of these species can cause major health issues from a bite (that piece of information didn’t help me either, but it did give me a small comfort knowing that the likelihood of a spider trying to kill me in my sleep is next to zero). My point is that if we approach situations in which we allow fear to blind us then we miss out on, at the very least, a learning experience, and at the most, a chance to be more than what we thought we were capable of.
Since joining the Endangered Wildlife Trust’s Birds of Prey Program, I have worked extensively in remote areas, often on my own. In a country where safety is often a concern about a woman working alone in the field, I’m often told to avoid being in areas with no network coverage (what if I get a flat tyre and can’t call someone?), places where I’m the only woman (what if there’s only men and they threaten me?) and where I’m far off the beaten track (how can anyone help me if I’m in the world’s armpit?).
I am quite aware of the threats to my safety, especially at a time when gender-based violence is a concern. But, these concerns are not going to stop me from doing my job. The day I let fear stop me from doing it, is the day I hang up my khakis. So, for those who are scared, I urge you to read further, because these are my experiences; encounters I wouldn’t trade for the world.
Among the extreme remote areas I have visited and experienced include parts of the former Transkei region of the Eastern Cape, the Lesotho highlands and small towns in the Northern Cape.
When I travelled to the Transkei for community outreach and vulture conservation awareness about birds of prey last year, I challenged myself to learn how to speak basic Xhosa so that I could better communicate with the local community.
Luckily, I have a friend that has kept me in line since Grade 6 and she taught me some ground rules about Xhosa. Most importantly is that Xhosa is a language of clicks. The ‘c’ sound is a click pronounced when the tip of the tongue is pressed against one’s teeth. The ‘x’ click is pronounced by pulling one’s tongue down from the back of your palate. The ‘q’ sound is pronounced with the tongue pulling down from middle of the palate and should make an echo sound in your skull, deafen you even, if you’re doing it right. After weeks of practicing and Hlumela sending me voice notes mostly consisting of her laughing at my ‘whiteness’ and coaching me, I was finally able to, with confidence, introduce myself to people: “Molweni. Igama lam nguDanielle. Niyawundi xolela ndyizama uthetha isiXhosa” (Hello, my name is Danielle. I must apologise to everyone; I’m trying to learn to speak Xhosa.)
Hlumela said I should add: “Ayihambi kakuhle”. It’s not going well.
When the Endangered Wildlife Trust’s Birds of Prey team visited a local community and their chief in the former Transkei in July 2023, I was instructed to firstly, wear a skirt to the chief’s place, secondly, to listen intently while the chief or elders speak. Thirdly, I was told to NEVER say no to the bread. This was more of a private notation by one of our colleagues, Nosi, who was actually just telling me that the bread is so delicious you can’t possibly turn it down.
We were in the area to do community outreach and awareness raising about vulture conservation with the CEET (Conservation Exposure Education and Training) and Meat Naturally.
I was on my best behaviour until a fight broke out between the chief’s wife and one of her chickens. The angry woman had proceeded to line that chicken up in her sights and kick it a good ten metres in a perfect arch off her stoep (verandah), her slipper following suite. I don’t know where the Springboks are recruiting their next flyhalf, but I could point them in the direction of her house. The chief, telling us to ‘hleka, hleka’ (laugh, laugh), followed this incident with an opening prayer before mentioning something about the presence of Mlungus (white people). My Xhosa is not advanced enough as yet to understand every word, but as it turned out, the chief was happy about our work in the area. In fact, he wanted us back as soon as possible.