Christy Bidstrup Article

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Kindred Spirits of the Kalahari By Christy Bidstrup It is dark, freezing cold, and I need a bathroom. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I struggle to orient myself. Now I remember! I am at a research station in the Kuruman River Reserve in South Africa’s Kalahari Desert. I have come to assist in an ongoing study of meerkat behavior as an Earthwatch volunteer. Bundling up for the moonlit walk from my rondoval to the latrine, I am reminded that the word ‘desert’ does not mean hot, it just means arid. We Earthwatch volunteers are a motley group of six women from around the world. Young Evi is a computer expert from Switzerland. Barbara is a retired microbiologist from Australia, Joan is a retired grant writer from Los Angeles and Judy is a retired high school English teacher from New York City. Terri is a wildlife rehabilitator in California and I am a U.S. Government employee from Fairfax, Virginia. We are united by a profound curiosity about our natural world and a willingness to forego the comforts of a leisure vacation for two weeks of roughing it -- trekking for hours on end through thorny brush beneath a blazing sun to observe the communal behavior of small furry creatures about the size of squirrels. Meerkats are unique in that they stand up on their back legs like people to sunbathe and perform sentinel duty. And, aside from finding lizards, millipedes and scorpions to be thoroughly tasty treats, meerkats act a lot like people – disobedient, playful, dutiful, affectionate, vengeful, greedy…well, you get the picture. There is a reason that the new documentary on Animal Planet about these very same animals, Meerkat Manor, is called a soap opera. After a thorough safety and first aid briefing by our Volunteer Coordinator, Anne-Marie, wherein we learn to distinguish puff adders, whose venomous bite precipitates a rapidly radiating necrosis of the tissue, from Cape

Transcript of Christy Bidstrup Article

Kindred Spirits of the Kalahari

By Christy Bidstrup

It is dark, freezing cold, and I need a bathroom. Rubbing the sleep frommy eyes, I struggle to orient myself. Now I remember! I am at a researchstation in the Kuruman River Reserve in South Africa’s Kalahari Desert. Ihave come to assist in an ongoing study of meerkat behavior as anEarthwatch volunteer. Bundling up for the moonlit walk from my rondovalto the latrine, I am reminded that the word ‘desert’ does not mean hot, itjust means arid.

We Earthwatch volunteers are a motley group of six women from aroundthe world. Young Evi is a computer expert from Switzerland. Barbara is aretired microbiologist from Australia, Joan is a retired grant writer from LosAngeles and Judy is a retired high school English teacher from New YorkCity. Terri is a wildlife rehabilitator in California and I am a U.S.Government employee from Fairfax, Virginia.

We are united by a profound curiosity about our natural world and awillingness to forego the comforts of a leisure vacation for two weeks ofroughing it -- trekking for hours on end through thorny brush beneath ablazing sun to observe the communal behavior of small furry creaturesabout the size of squirrels. Meerkats are unique in that they stand up ontheir back legs like people to sunbathe and perform sentinel duty. And,aside from finding lizards, millipedes and scorpions to be thoroughly tastytreats, meerkats act a lot like people – disobedient, playful, dutiful,affectionate, vengeful, greedy…well, you get the picture. There is areason that the new documentary on Animal Planet about these verysame animals, Meerkat Manor, is called a soap opera.

After a thorough safety and first aid briefing by our Volunteer Coordinator,Anne-Marie, wherein we learn to distinguish puff adders, whose venomousbite precipitates a rapidly radiating necrosis of the tissue, from Cape

cobras, whose venom paralyzes the muscles within half an hour, includingthe diaphragm (and the closest hospital is only 3 hours away over anunpaved road!), we are off to meet the little critters who have no fearwhatsoever of such snakes and will mob them if necessary. Meerkats are,after all, members of the mongoose family.

The six of us have been divided into two-person teams and are matchedup with one of the study’s research volunteers. These young people,mostly from the U.K. and Europe, are very bright, personable andunfailingly polite to tired, novice Earthwatch volunteers (Would you like aspot of tea?). At any given time there may be around 20-30 people atthe main research station studying the meerkats, and sometimes yellowmongooses and pied babblers (a raucous black and white bird).

The research volunteers are remarkably dedicated, enduring freezingdawns in winter (you must be at the burrow when the meerkats wake up),scorching heat in summer, formidable thorns, poisonous snakes, scorpions(four kinds!) and wind that makes it difficult to steady the scale forweighing. Uncooperative meerkats will obligingly hop in the weighing trayone time and mischievously avoid it the next. And occasionally there isthe appearance of a rival meerkat band that prompts a scuffle andchase that forces the volunteer to madly scoop up equipment,backpack, and journal and run pell-mell after squabbling meerkats high-tailing it over the next hill. These young people do this for a full year at lowpay, just room, board and expenses. Their curiosity, camaraderie andcommitment to science are truly awe-inspiring.

The Kalahari is breathtaking. The sky is a cloudless cornflower blue. Theearly morning frost has long since evaporated and the heat has set in.The sand is a bright terra cotta color and dotted with numerous varietiesof scrub, all outfitted with very impressive, we-mean-business thorns. Heidi,our research volunteer, is wearing shorts (!) and I salute her youthfulresolve to “toughen up” her legs. Thankfully, however, I am wearingsturdy jeans, the relentless sun notwithstanding. After some frustratingfiddling with the well-worn radio tracking equipment, we locate theWhiskers gang.

As we slowly approach them, it is fascinating to realize that these aretotally wild animals. Although they have been habituated to a specialcall that allows us to easily walk among them (and they among us,sometimes to the point that I must do a jig to keep from stepping on one),if the research project packed up and left tomorrow, the meerkats wouldcontinue on, unfazed, as they have for millennia. There is no

domestication or dependency here, only the least intrusive interactionpossible to obtain data.

The Whiskers are furiously digging, digging, digging. Digging is whatmeerkats do, and they do it masterfully. In about a minute a meerkat candig a hole big enough to disappear into, hopefully to back out again witha beetle or juicy larvae of some sort. But many holes are dug in vain andmuch energy is expended in general foraging, darting down “bolt holes”to evade predators and fights to defend territory. They work hard forsustenance in this hot, hardscrabble landscape and because of this theirappetites are seemingly insatiable.

I see an adult meerkat succumb to begging and give a young pup asmall lizard almost half his size. It takes the pup about five minutes, but hemanages to eat the whole thing in one piece, head first. And then, sostuffed he can barely walk, he resumes his insistent begging call for thenext meal.

Meerkat life revolves around the pups. Only the dominant male andfemale breed (well, those are the rules anyway), and the entire group iscommitted to rearing the pups successfully. As the dominant female(Flower, in this case) leads the group foraging, babysitters stay with thepups for their first three weeks spent in the burrow. The female babysitterscan even lactate to help feed the pups. Meerkats vigorously defend aterritory of about a square mile, although territories tend to overlap at themargins, often precipitating war dances (big hops into the air with tailssticking straight up), frenetic scent marking and fights to ward off intruders.

Occasionally, females get pregnant by rogue bachelors that sneak infrom other groups for quickie daytime trysts. This is a dangerous mistake.The pregnant female may be killed by the dominant female, but is usuallyjust seriously roughed up and evicted from the group. But eviction ispainful for a meerkat as they are very social animals. The humanequivalent is shunning. None of the other meerkats will have anything todo with her and she may become debilitated from stress and parasites orbe picked off by predators. Overpopulating a group with hungry pups isirresponsible; the desert is harsh and dominant females like Flower mustconsider the welfare of the group as a whole.

If a pregnant female manages to stay in the group long enough to givebirth, her pups may be killed by the dominant female. But this outcome isnot absolute. Sometimes the dominant female lets them live, but theytake a subordinate status to her pups. Sometimes she even forgives theerrant female mother if she is sufficiently sorry and obsequious. This is what

is fascinating about meerkats; they have rigid rules, but they are oftenbroken and, like us, they cope with the consequences as best they can,sometimes in unpredictable ways.

The members of the seven groups of meerkats in the Cambridge UniversityStudy led by Dr. Timothy Clutton-Brock all have names (after flowers,writers, composers, you name it!), code numbers and can be told onefrom the other by variously located spots of hair dye. I am sometimesconfused (Oh no! I have been tracking ‘left shoulder, tail base’ instead ofthe assigned ‘right shoulder, tail base’ for the last ten minutes!) and mustrepeatedly refer to my cheat sheets to keep them all straight. But theyoung research volunteers know them all by heart after a couple months.

We track their movements with GPS readings every 15 minutes todetermine the distance traveled during foraging. They are weighed threetimes a day—first thing in the morning, at noon and before bedtime -- todetermine how much weight is gained during foraging and lost overnight.This is accomplished by luring them into the weighing tray with a sip ofwater or a bit of hard-boiled egg.

Almost everything a meerkat does is either fascinating or adorable and Iwant to document it all. I find that early morning sunbathing and lateafternoon grooming are great times to get photos as meerkats are fairlystationery near the burrow and the angle of the desert sun providesbeautiful, dramatic lighting.

Not every day is consumed with tracking meerkats. Anne-Marie has usconduct biodiversity surveys and observe other animals that interact withmeerkats. One day we document the behavior of drongos, big-headedblack birds with forked tails (indicative of their personality!) that stalkmeerkats from the branches of trees or bushes and then issueunwarranted alarm calls. When the meerkat drops everything to dash fora bolt hole, the drongo swoops down and steals the meerkat’s hard-earned meal.

Another day we build crude “bird ladders” from scrap wood andreclaimed nails to place in the open water cisterns dotting the reserve. Itseems that birds fly down to take a drink, cannot climb the steep cementwalls to get out and drown, fouling the water. Our ladders will provide anescape and help keep the water clean. Installing one we find a largeblack vulture that has met such an end. I am saddened as I envision hisflapping, futile struggle, but it demonstrates clearly that my blisters andsplinters will not have been suffered in vain.

One night we take a ride standing in the back of an open pick-up truck,gripping an installed railing and dodging thorny branches (this is not theUnited States with all of its safety rules!), and shine a bright light into thebrush to locate wild animals. I am delighted as gnus (wildebeest),gemsbok, duikers, eland, springboks, spring hares, and a huge African owl(two feet high perched!) stare back at us with red or green reflectiveeyes.

Several late afternoons we climb a high, russet sand dune and gaze outacross the seemingly desolate landscape at the glorious red-orangesunset while chatting about the day’s work and sipping sundowners. TheKalahari is, indeed, an extraordinary place.

There are many special moments, but one stands out. I am recliningquietly with nothing but sun-baked scrub for miles in any direction.Meerkats are busily digging and foraging around me. Then one climbs upon my knee to be sentinel for the group, scanning the horizon and sky fordanger. I can feel his tiny claws through my jeans as he stands tall for thebest view.

He is so close I can see the breeze ruffling his soft fur, a tiny clump of sandstuck to his nose, a thin scar on his left ear. He turns his head to assessdanger from another direction, catches my gaze and stares me square inthe eyes. After a few moments, he turns away again to scan the horizon.I have been deemed safe.

It is difficult to convey the impact of this brief encounter, this momentarycommunion of an urban human and a wild creature of the African desert.Yes, on one level I suppose it is meaningless and inconsequential. But onanother plane it is a moment of pure and perfect bliss – a microcosm ofharmony in the universe. For me there is nothing like it in the world.

Our final full day has arrived and it is our last few minutes with themeerkats. In the evening they often cuddle together in large clusters,grooming each other and making delightful, soft chirruping sounds. Theyare tired and sleepy and begin to slowly drip from the cluster, one by oneor in twos, down into the burrow for the night.

Finally, the last meerkat, standing tall and outlined in brilliant, fuzzy orangewith a shadow ten feet long, takes a look in all directions and disappearsdown the hole. Surprisingly, a couple of minutes later as we are leaving,he pops his head back up and stares at us for several, long secondsbefore disappearing again for good. I like to think he was saying good-bye.

The next morning, as I drag my “rolling” suitcase through the sand towardthe SUV for the long, dusty trip to the airport, I am utterly amazed at howsad I am to be leaving. Over these two weeks I have become totallysmitten by these charming, human-like animals.

Farewell little meerkats. See you in the movies!

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Founded in 1971, Earthwatch Institute is an international, non-profitorganization that supports scientific research by offering volunteers theopportunity to join research teams around the world. This project andover 130 others provide a wide variety of learning experiences that alsomake a contribution to science. There is something for everyone, youngand old, even families. Find out more about Earthwatch and the projectsthey support at www.earthwatch.org or call their toll-free number, 800-776-0188, to obtain a complimentary copy of the latest Expedition Guide.

The engaging Meerkat Manor series can be seen Fridays at 8:00pm onAnimal Planet.