Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
When he'd asked whose trails they were on, the people told him they belonged to the village. He'd
wanted to know why they had two sets of trails, since they required so much maintenance.
“They'd say, 'We have to let the animals rest. We've been hunting and trapping them. The guns
frighten them.' Others would say, 'We have to let the animals give birth.' These were explicit,
codified conservation statements by indigenous hunters. And those are about the only things that
Westerners will listen to grudgingly in the context of conservation. With the other stuff I talked
about—firstness, opening and closing the forests, the powers of the spiritual world over the out-
comes of your activities in the forest, and your good relationships among people as a key—there's
scorn: 'It's superstition. It's categories of explanation that we didn't author, and therefore do not
honor.'”
Alden told me that he chose to support a vision of conservation that was African-based, with
strong local leadership, and that used local traditions to reinforce conservation. Albert later corrob-
orated Alden's view, explaining that in Équateur people view certain parts of the forest as sacred
and have banned hunting there because animals go to these regions to give birth. He speculated as
to whether myths about sacred forests like Engindanginda are in place only to keep hunters from
disturbing the animals during this time, and whether stories of the sacred forest could be used to
encourage conservation. Even BCI's scientific surveys began with local knowledge, the Congolese
who knew the forests guiding the researchers, a tactic that scientific studies are increasingly show-
ing to be as effective as transects. As a result of BCI's approach, every site surveyed, in more than
twelve areas in Équateur, contained bonobos.
If there was one thing I understood from my conversations not only with BCI and Vie Sauvage's
staff but also with the local Congolese, it was how specific conservation is. Generalized theories and
strategies must be secondary to the reality of each place: the way the war has affected the people,
their relationships with various governments and power structures, and their beliefs and traditions.
Personal relationships and cultural understanding matter above all else.
“When Sally and I developed our approach to Information Exchange,” Alden said, “we were
looking for a way to use African ideas, delivered by African voices, for African audiences in con-
servation, instead of importing Tarzan with credentials. We've had a history of using the folktales,
disseminating them. I know the way ideas spread in Africa. Even though ethnic groups were al-
legedly conflictual, healing cults would spread among them, and everyone knows that all of those
New World crops spread like lightning through allegedly balkanized, tribalized Africa.”
Though a lot had changed since those early depictions, I got the sense that knowledge was still
studied and shared, that when an idea reached a village, everyone mulled it over, debated it, and
passed it on. I saw evidence of this in Roger's work. He had learned about conservation through
word of mouth, then attended Information Exchange training in Kokolopori with Alden Almquist
in 2008. After participating in surveys and Information Exchange with BCI and CREF in Lingomo
and Mompono, he used his salary to start his own NGO, transforming his community.
This is what I found most interesting about Kokolopori, that the local people's understanding
of the work being done there makes the project, in essence, self-replicating. BCI's staff have built
relationships with them, exchanging knowledge. Both groups are aware of each other's struggles,
knowing that no one has the full support necessary to achieve their goals on their own. And because
decisions are made nearby, the people assimilate the nature of the work and are learning to replicate
it.
