Unforeseen changes
The past few months have presented a few transitions that I underestimated in significance. One was daylights savings time. Yes, it seems silly; in the states I adjust in a day, and traveling here, I adjusted to the 8-hour time difference in just a few days. But because at Gobabeb more activities and routines are dictated by light than by time, the clock moving ahead an hour simply meant we wake up earlier, cook earlier, head out for sundowners earlier, and even head to bed earlier. And because there are no structures forcing us to adjust, it remains this way even now, a month later.
Floods and Rains
However, compared to the change in landscape Gobabeb has experienced, a mere one-hour schedule change is miniscule. I didn't believe it could happen, but in the last 4 months, the desert has been transformed. The wet summer has brought floods and rains. These new elements made day-to-day weather patterns even more unpredictable and fluctuating than before, and each also brought a flurry of floral and faunal visitors I hadn't seen. Those monitoring the insect population by collecting specimens from pit-traps were suddenly bringing more beetles to the lab for more careful identification. In meticulously classifying cloud types for daily weather readings, I became nostalgic for those easy-to-code "no cloud" days of winter.
The ephemeral Kusieb River flows not as a result of rain at Gobabeb, but rather heavy rain in the catchment north east of Gobabeb. This leaves us with but a few vague indicators with which to predict its occurrence - lightning on the northern horizon, news of heavy rain inland, a flood-report from a farm upriver. Overall, it is incredibly unpredictable. One intern was even stranded on the other side when a flood came during her data collection in the dunes. Although the strength of the flood often is destructive for the vegetation (and monitoring equipment), the resulting organic matter is deposited as nutrient and habitat gifts to the soil, plants, and animals. The river denies those at Gobabeb access to the dunes. But it brings a chocolate-brown swimming pool, transport via inner tube from one point to another, and an indescribable change in atmosphere. I've been seeing pictures of the flood for months, and teaching about the river's ecological importance, but only after I saw it could I appreciate it as an actual river instead of just a riverbed with water in it.
This year most of the floods occurred in February and most of the rains in March and April. This year, rain has been profuse not only in the Namib, but all over the country. In some places this sadly resulted in flooding disasters, but in most, it led to green vegetation and healthy crops and livestock. The annual rainfall at Gobabeb is 11mm. That's about half an inch. This year, we've received 58mm so far, and drastic transformations have followed. What was once a never-ending gravel plain landscape is now furry with savannah grass blowing with the winds. Whereas nights at Old House used to be spent outside, we've now had to take cover several nights - either from the rain, or, more often, from the numerous grasshoppers outside that sound like rain against the windows.
The Flurry of Life
That's another thing I didn't see coming: the bugs. I am beginning to think the desert has just as many bugs as wetter areas - their existence is just squeezed into a few months of the year. This is not so far from the truth. In an unpredictable, harsh, environment, plants and animals jump on opportunities. And the opportunity of all opportunities? Rain. But the rain is fleeting, and so must be the lives and processes that depend on it. In this period, sleepy seeds sprout from underground and organisms use the resources for reproduction or growth, some squeezing in a whole life cycle in a few days. And these resourceful types don't mess around. There are not just a few butterflies of one species, begging for water with tin cups, there are millions, and they are strong. The grass that emerges is not some pitiful yellow wispy stuff you might feel sorry for, but rather starts as fresh, thick, green sprouts. In what is a short window of time to us, they carry out their missions with elegance and vigor.
Oh yeah, work
But believe it or not, Mark and I do more than sit around watching the insect species fade in and out of existence. It is just easier to talk about the natural changes when trying to account for a long period of time. Although tertiary training groups overall are less in the early months of the year, projects and younger groups have kept me quite busy. In January, I got to represent Gobabeb on a team of Southern African professors on a trip to University of Virginia to assist with a course on international community research. It was fascinating to look at the States from my newly adopted Namibian identity, and as one more turn, to look back on Namibia, as my current home, as I helped teach the course. I've also been designing and implementing training curriculums for secondary schools at Gobabeb and leading a number of international universities in arid ecology or geography visits. And when I can, I stick my scientist-side in certain research projects - like a game census to assess the impact of a planned Uranium mine.
Although these projects have kept me busy, the change in structure was an adjustment. I knew from the previous Fellows, and colleagues at Gobabeb, that the early months of the year have a lesser training load. I often thought of an easier, more relaxed time in the midst of back-to-back training groups in the previous months. But it didn't bring fewer tasks; my tasks just had much less structure. For example, the goal of a training course is often obvious. Though this doesn't necessarily mean it's easy to reach, the task itself still has a lucid audience, a deadline, a standardâ¦even inherent monitoring. Without that, assignments are more flexible, demanding more self-discipline, responsibility, and creative input. This is exactly what it's taken to design more training modules, market to groups to get them to come to Gobabeb so we could test these modules, and take on various research projects.
So, I was challenged in a different way. Although previous reports have been about challenges and experiences I knew would put me out of my comfort zone, the last months' challenges were not easily recognized at first. As you enter into the second half of the fellowship, you feel more comfortable, more capable. But I often forget the most frustrating but also most wonderful thing about this job - that the moment you start to feel comfortable, you are reminded that you are but one scratch in the many on an Old house plate, one year in a Station-history of forty. You feel empowered and confident, but humbled by the constant reminder that you know very little. And both can exist. The summer rain insect's life is fleeting to us, but infinitely significant to them. And just as in August the end of the fellowship seems to be put-putting along, the end an eternity away, come April (as other third reports have similarly commented), it is hard to believe there are only a few months left.
