By Nicole Hardy from University of Vermont
Sitting in our final Conservation Biology class within the thatch-covered living area of Tau Camp, I watched our discussion leader Lauren lift a diagram of a feedback loop to obstruct my view of the WWE rerun playing on the television behind her. Mick Foley and The Rock could wait, because we were about to discuss the importance of rhetoric in conservation, which packs its own punch. “Rhetoric” – a word used to define the strategic use of other words- is just one way in which diction has been highlighted in the conservation arena. As it turns out, word choice is incredibly important to our perceptions of wildlife, conflict, and people, all of which hold a stake in the field of conservation. Therefore, in this final blog post of the semester, I decided to reflect on the language that’s shaped my experience in Botswana and my perception of conservation.
“Wilderness”
A word that used to simply be a synonym for nature was soon steeped in deeper meaning, after reading William Cronon’s paper, “The Trouble with Wilderness.” This reading took the spotlight of a memorable Humans in the Environment class, and while at first glance it was an overly poetic read reaching to philosophize a simple term used to portray the environment, it soon became eye-opening, as it described how words are assigned negative connotations so that resources and groups of people can be exploited without moral detriment. “Wilderness” was an example of the rhetoric used to make people and the environment separate entities, which shaped conservation management in the western world to be what it is today: Preserved parks separated by a harsh boundary from developed lands. In the United States, the term “wilderness” was used to paint native peoples as inhuman for living within an untamed environment, while also allowing for their eviction from historic lands to preserve tracts of these reverent areas from resource use. This basis for conservation has been carried through generations of management and is bleeding into post-colonial countries like Botswana. With legislation like the 2015 hunting ban and the creation of preserved areas like Moremi Game Reserve, people are being separated from the environment in Botswana in the name of conservation. Cultural lands and practices such as subsistence hunting are being limited through this management, and I have since begun viewing the field of conservation from a much more people-centric point of view desperately in need of updates.
“Let’s Roll”
One of our escort guides XK taught Lauren and I the phrase “A re vi,” as we drove down a transect route, which translated to “Let’s roll” from Setswana to English. This phrase ended up being commonly used in our group throughout the semester, and in the end these words gave context to the absorbance of tribal languages into the predominant language of Setswana. As Kwhai native and Bugakwhe tribe member Durest described it, phrases like “A re vi” are patchworks of tribal languages and Setswana, and with the deterioration of cultural practice in Botswana increasing due to legislation prioritizing wildlife conservation, the use of tribal language is becoming less and less common. Therefore, phrases like “a re vi,” serve as an example of the harmful trajectory conservation is taking in Botswana as a result of colonialism and gives insight into why I previously perceived Botswana for its rich wildlife and not its rich culture.
“Tlou”
A Setswana word pronounced “Toe-ooooo” with the “Tl” taking on a mix between a “D” and a “T” sound in northern Botswana and a “Cl” sound in southern Botswana, it simply means “elephant” in English. This word, which stumped my tongue for a long time in Setswana class, takes on great meaning worldwide. Elephants carry many different symbols across the globe, with their perception being especially positive in the United States. In fact, I remember reading a news article a few years back in which an elephant had killed a farmer and the story had been framed in a positive light as an act of redemption from the elephant for the farmer killing its baby. However, upon reaching Botswana, I realized that Tlou evoked fear and anger in many locals, for their high populations and destructive, unpredictable nature. These animals served as a final example of the impact rhetoric has on our perceptions and actions within the field of conservation both nationally and internationally.
Digging through the language that defines conservation in Botswana, I’ve had many take aways about what needs to happen to improve the system there. However, I reflected on this aspect of my time abroad because my overall experience in Botswana was far beyond what words can describe. The people of the Okavango Delta radiate warmth and care for their environment and all people they encounter, so if you’re considering this Round River program or visiting Botswana, I would encourage you to try and understand the people, wildlife, culture, and words that shape this beautiful country as it will give your experience even greater value.