The ARK Shamba - Farming God's Way

A shamba is a small plot of land that serves as a family farm, usually growing staple foods like maize and beans that the family can eat and sell. A Rocha Kenya has recently acquired a shamba near the town of Gede, which is meant to function as a demonstration plot for a method of conservation agriculture developed specifically for Africa, called "Farming God's Way."

Basically the method consists of modeling a farm after a forest, meaning no tilling, high levels of nutrient cycling, leaf litter/mulch, and biodiversity (crop rotation). But it puts a lot of emphasis on the spiritual aspects of farming as taught in the Bible: acknowledging God and God alone, tithing, praying over the land, etc. It's a pretty neat program and I'm enjoying learning more about it through our weekly monday afternoon workshops/bible studies.

Recently I got to visit our shamba with a couple of Islamic teachers who are interested in this method of Farming God's Way.

It was great to talk to our muslim brothers about creation care and the transforming power of combining Biblical, spiritual truth with practical, scientific methods of improving land use and thus crop yield and overall quality of life. 

The plot also houses our native plant seed bank and nursery where we grow native trees and shrubs and educate local families about the importance of planting these native species on their land as an investment for the future instead of relying on the protected forest land for their timber needs. Our ASSETS families especially are expected to replant some of their land with these seedlings.

We are currently in the second year of farming this plot according to the farming God's way methods and things are going well, our maize is already very tall and producing tassels. Next year they hope to be able to hold training events on site, spreading the wisdom to the surrounding community about the importance of putting God first in your work. Lets pray that these efforts are able to bless the community and show God's glory for many years to come. 

Counting birds at Mida Creek...and other adventures

Mida Creek (mee-dah, not my-dah) is the large tidal mangrove area which opens into the sea just a 30 minute walk south of our Mwamba and then circles north, so that where we are is almost a peninsula of land bordered on the east by the Indian Ocean and on the west by Mida Creek with the SW corner touching the mouth of the creek.

Why should you care about Mida Creek? Because birds love it. Thus, birders love it. For this reason, on Saturday morning I found myself wading through the mud flats, following our birders, who were of course following birds. I saw the famous crab plover, which aggregates in this region in higher numbers than anywhere else in the world, several greater flamingos, and as scribe (again), I wrote down many names that I didn't know and don't remember. In total I think I recorded over 400 birds.

With the work over, we packed up our books and scopes and went to explore the boardwalk. Like the tree platform at the Gede ruins, the Mida Creek boardwalk was constructed by ARocha Kenya in order to benefit the ASSETS program (quick refresher: ASSETS encourages conservation of the Arabuko-Sokoke forest by paying school fees for local children (through eco-tourism) in exchange for agreements from families to not cut trees in the forest, etc.).

This lovely plaque explains the ASSETS program

It's a pretty great boardwalk. It's 260 meters long and in constant need of repair. A thorough renovation is in progress, but for now It's wonderfully swingy and askew, with some boards broken or loose or missing. It's truly an adventure to cross it.

no one has fallen through...yet!

On the walk, I met a lovely lizard friend.

They also have mangrove tree nursery at the creek, run by a local woman's group!

In other news, I met a giant snail.

And had to wonder why there we no horror movies about giant snails taking over cities. We have giant spiders, reptiles, monkeys, even giant swarms of birds, but no snails? Look at this picture and tell me it wouldn't be horrifying:

I'm selling this movie idea. I'm thinking, "Snails take over Manhattan" or "People-Eating Escargot," set in Paris. Winner? I think so. Coming soon to a theater near you. 

Weavers Galore

Turtle Bay Beach Club is one of three big, fancy resorts that sit in a row at the North end of the marine park. Tuesday I discovered that not only does it attract flocks of Italians on holiday, it also is home to flocks of African Golden and Golden Palm Weavers (birds).

The resort is closed for the season so we were able to pack up our team of eager volunteers and research staff, a mist net, and every bird bag we could find and take over their garden area for an evening.

The pond in the garden courtyard area of Turtle Bay, otherwise known as the home of the Weavers. 

The trees/shrubs/bushes are full of their cool little nests dangling precariously from the tips of branches. 

Can you believe a little bird built this? I have opposable thumbs and I don't think I could have built it.

It's always funny watching birds get caught in a mist net. Against a backdrop of foliage the fine mesh disappears and even we forget where it is exactly in the expanse between its two support poles. Birds fly leisurely by and then suddenly stop and fall mid-air, hanging suspended in a pocket of net. Others come in so fast that they stretch the net and get flung backwards by the elasticity. After a while the entire expanse of the net was dotted with yellow, orange, and green birds, struggling to understand how they ended up in such an awkward and precarious position.

Once we filled all of our bird bags, we crammed ourselves back in the car. And I mean crammed. 9 people + 45 birds in bags strung across two bamboo poles = a very full car.

Our cozy backseat. People are a little tired and hungry...and squished!

Back at Mwamba, ringing commenced.

I had received a crash course in recording bird ringing data at Turtle Bay, so back at home I was made designated scribe. Having three people tell me a variety of numbers and measurements and comments for each of their birds, all at the same time, having to get every number right, remember which line I'm on, and whose voice goes with which initials, I definitely had Starbucks morning rush flashbacks. At least this time I didn't have to run around with hot coffee, dodge co-workers, and try not to slip on spilled milk too...

Taking down some measurements from Silas, one of the research team members. 

Our birds.

Andrew examining flight feather molt on a young African Golden Weaver

45 birds later, I had been bitten and scratched by both African Golden Weavers and Golden Palm Weavers, learned to tell the difference between them (males and females) and got an introduction to bird aging, measuring, etc. All in all, a very successful, enjoyable evening :)

A Rainy Walk in the Woods

On Tuesday this week I was able to join the bird-watching crew with several other volunteers on an expedition through the Arabuko-Sokoke National Forest Reserve in search of possible nesting sites for the rare, endemic Clark’s Weaver. The first nest was found just this past year, I believe, after scientists had searched for nearly 20 years. More recently, the first known roosting site was found just a week or two ago, right on the edge of the forest. It’s a hot time for Clark’s Weavers, apparently.

After cancelling the first scheduled hike due to rain, and then losing power to flooding at the power station (the entire North Coast area of Kenya was out of power for almost 36 hours), we were told that this hike would take place rain or shine. So at 7:30am I filled up on chai and mandaazi (sort of unsweet donuts? More like little fried dough bits. Some are better than others.) and packed my backpack with a raincoat and waterbottle. Everything was looking clear and promising…

There were too many of us to fit into the old landcruiser, so we had to take the big old pick-up truck (affectionately known as “kiboko” or hippo). We piled into the bed and just as we were about to pull out, it started drizzling. Someone ran and got us an old canvas tarp for rainproofing, so as the rain got harder, we huddled underneath it like a load of refugees. I felt like we were about to be smuggled across the border!

Driving to the forest (there are people under that tarp)

See? 

We stopped at a gas station on the way and when we all emerged, it was obvious from the looks on peoples faces that the last thing they were expecting was for a group of wet wazungu (white people) to pop out from under a tarp in the back of a pick up truck. A similar thing happened when we pulled up to the gate at the forest. There the ranger watched us materialize and then exclaimed, “I thought you were luggage!”

Even with a tarp covering, wearing raincoats, we somehow managed to get soaked through before we ever got out of the car.

We were entering a part of the forest that tourists never came to, so it was very overgrown and not groomed at all. We had to clear a couple of small branches and trees from the road, but when we came to two impassable blockages in a row, we all voted for leaving the car and walking rather than try our luck with a panga (machete).

Hauling trees off of the road...in the rain. 

Walking through the woods in a downpour is just a ridiculous experience. I couldn’t help but laugh a couple of times at the ridiculousness of it. But the rain only kept up for the first hour or so of the hike. Then as the birds started to sing and the sun came out, so did the butterflies and it was absolutely gorgeous.

This forest was unlike anything I have ever seen before. With the rainy season, mosses and a huge variety of mushrooms had popped out of what was dry sand only weeks before. But at the same time we passed aloe-like succulents and spiky palm shrubs and bromeliads. All this while fighting our way through mangrove trees and random thorny vines, walking on white sandy soil.

an Alice in Wonderland worthy mushroom. I kept expecting a hookah-smoking caterpillar to crawl out.

Not flowers - mushrooms!! crazy, right?

Several times we came across fresh tracks of elephants and buffalo. We even found some nice fresh piles of elephant poo, which the dung beetles were making good use of. Sadly, no large herbivores came crashing into view. Although a couple of elephant shrews did flee from us in the undergrowth a few times.. We were also screamed at by a group of baboons, but they were pretty far away.

A dung beetle doing it's thing...with elephant dung. 

a cool toad that Colin described as a "telephone frog" based on its call. 

Do you see the horrifyingly large Golden Orb Web Spider??

After over 18 kilometers and 5 hours, we made it back to the car – starving, damp, and bedraggled. When I peeled off my wet, muddy shoes and socks, my feet looked like zombies. It was weird. I took a picture, but it might be a bit much to showcase my rotting forest feet on my blog…

Part of the group, post-hike, in our truck bed. We're definitely ready to get back for lunch!

After a 3:45 lunch and a change of clothes, I collapsed in bed and had to force myself to get up after an hour. For all of the exhaustion (and the fact that my legs will be sore for a while since they’re not getting any break this week, with a 30 minute walk to and from my tidepool sites), it was a really nice hike and I really enjoyed getting to see a new part of the area and an entirely new ecosystem.

I can honestly say I have never experienced anything like that before in my life. 

A picture of our truck, laden with volunteers, in front of a bank on our way back. We had too much fun with the mirrored windows.