Think Beyond Plastics - a finalist at Jackson Hole Film Festival

Think Beyond Plastics is bubbling rapidly. After the film festival our ranks on Facebook are growing: Think Beyond Plastics as well as Don't Trash the Ocean have gained hundreds of new members.
But the most exciting news arrived today: Think Beyond Plastics is a finalist at the Best 360 Campaign Category at the Jackson Hole Film Festival. What a terrific recognition for the campaign, for the people who are working on it, and for all of our partners who have and continue to contribute efforts.

Bronwen’s Road

July 29, 2007. Desert outside Swakopmund, Namibia.

When Namibia first gained its independence in 1990, the newly established fisheries Ministry had inherited a series of difficult challenges. For years, foreign fishers had been exploiting the rich fisheries off the coast with reckless abandon, ultimately depleting the stocks to devastating proportions. The Ministry set out a series of bold strategies to improve the stocks. Its ideas were progressive, science-based and testament to the spirit of the country's new constitution where sustainable use of resources is a cornerstone.

When Bronwen first arrived at the Ministry of Fisheries, her career path was clearly charted . . .

. . . she set out to study the near shore ecosystem, with a singular focus . . .

. . . but soon after her arrival, when she first learned of the hydrogen sulfide explosions, she veered off her immediate course, took a road less traveled and helped to address a mystery that many suspect needs to be considered in fisheries management -- the sulfide eruptions.

The Big Think

July 28, 2007. Swakopmund, Namibia.

In a warehouse we all gather to block out the sequence. In the sequence, Scarla, Andy and Bronwen would be discussing their theories as to what was causing the eruptions of hydrogen sulfide.

Before shooting, Scarla, Andy and Bronwen take this opportunity to get some work done. In reality these three mostly collaborated virtually via e-mail and phone conversations. Given the chance to actually be in the same room, they never missed a moment when they could dive into their data and work face-to-face.

Welwitcha

July 27, 2007. Walvis Bay, Namibia.

For days, Kathy Peeard has been making miracles happen. She got us permission to film at the lighthouse in Swakopmund. She helped us scout locations at the Ministry, ran interference, greased wheels and basically made all of our jobs that much easier. Kathy and Bronwen even helped to arrange a special expedition on the research vessel Welwitcha. This was a great treat for all of us. For Mark Knobil and me, the experience brought back memories of more than a decade ago when we both set sail (twice) to film at the Titanic in the Atlantic. For Brook, who had just finished producing a series of specials focused on ocean conservation, it was a welcome change to the driving, flying and hiking we'd been experiencing for nearly a month.

The happy faces of Richard . . .

. . . Brook. . .

. . . Chad . . .

. . . Chris . . .

. . . Chad and David . . .

. . . Mark and Chad. . .
It was great to be out at sea!

Explosions

July 28, 2007. The desert outside Swakopmund, Nambia.

After much anticipation, we arrive early in the morning, before the easterly winds, eager to see if our explosives expert George will deliver. As he sets his powder and fuses and pours gallons of petrol, we set our shots, sit back and wait. There's a lot riding on these explosions, and I'm starting to feel the pressure. We've carved precious time out of a very tight schedule and if it doesn't work, we're going to be in trouble. George has brought enough powder, fuses and fuel to detonate five explosions. He's not sure exactly how big they will be, despite the fact that he's carefully measured and built each unit. Explosive can be unpredictable, and if the winds suddenly pick up they could blow fire, dust and rock in our direction. The unpredictability of explosives is real, and the fact that George is missing one hand underscores this fact. After decades of defusing bombs and creating explosive events for movies and concerts, it was a simple flare that blew up as he was holding it, taking his hand.

We decide to set-off a test explosion to gauge its size. We all take our position at a distance, and George counts down. "Three . . . two, one!"

A fireball races into the sky, followed by clouds of billowing smoke and great cheers. We're in business!

Chad, David, Chris, and Mark await the test fire.

Andy, our character can be seen walking in the desert contemplating the destructive nature of hydrogen sulfide events, as an explosion, shot in slow motions, blazes across the sky.

Chad stands next to the explosives so that we can mark the next shot.

Desert Offices

July 24, 2007. Desert outside of Swakopmund, Namibia.

Chad moves some lamps that we borrow from the hotel.

Chris positions a desk, racing the sun as the winds begin to pick up.

The desk is leveled, stairs are built, and a chair is rigged so that it won't sink into the Namibian sand.

Richard Berkely, our production assistant who performed the role of a coordinator with precision, sits in as we block out a shot.

Questions

July 24, 2007. Walvis Bay, Namibia.

David Elisco (Vice President for Creative Affairs)

Lighthouses . . . explosions . . . offices in the desert . . . None of this was planned, or even contemplated until hours before we started to set the wheels in motion. The scientists -- Scarla, Andy, Bronwen, and Kathy -- were behind the plan. In fact they were cheering us on, having fun with the creative nature of our endeavor. Brook and Richard employed their laser focus to nail down all the details, pulling rabbits out of their hats, arranging and rearranging the schedule based on a myriad of criteria. Mark, Chris and Chad through their creative energy into the fire, fueling the process with unbridled optimism as only three guys from Pittsburgh can.

But still . . . would it all work? Would it be as visually appealing as we thought? Would it help to drive the story forward? I was confident, but uncertain and this uncertainty was further exacerbated by other more personal events that were simultaneously unfolding in my life.

The Plan

July 24, 2007. Swakopmund, Walvis Bay, Namibia.

With the list of filming ingredients whirling around in my head, a plan started to form.

1. Bronwen is the lighthouse. Like a sentry, sitting on the edge of the desert, looking out to sea in Swakopmund, there is an old lighthouse. As the sun sets everyday, the beam of the lighthouse cuts across the town. The lighthouse, like Bronwen, is forever vigilant keeping its eye on the ocean. I thought that we could meet Bronwen at night, as the fog sets in, follow her up the lighthouse stairs, and stand with her hundreds of feet above the city as her face is awash in the harsh glow of the revolving beam. From here, we can set up the story and the mystery of the fish explosions.

Great idea! Okay . . . how do we get in the lighthouse? Brook, Richard and Kathy were on the case.

2. Since so much of the story takes places within the minds of our three main characters -- Scarla, Andy, and Bronwen -- and since these characters were part of a vanguard of research, maybe we can create a space in the desert that both represents their pioneering efforts and captures the imaginative nature of their enterprise. The idea: whenever either of our scientists were getting deep into their research, they would be transported via a wash of white light into their thought space -- the vast desert.

Sounded cool and plausible, but we were running out of time. Can we create offices spaces in the Namibian desert? Where can we get desks, chairs, other office supplies to shoot the next day? This might not sound like a tall order, but consider this: after days of trying Brook couldn't find a rental car; there is one wireless Internet location in the country, according to Richard; and every store closes exactly at five o'clock.

3. After more conversations with George our guide (and explosives expert) at Tuna Corp, it becomes clear that we could probably pull off about three or four good explosions if we're lucky. George has all the right permits in place. And his license is good for a few more days!

With the potential of explosions becoming more real, I began formulating a plan on how we might use them. For our story, here's the challenge: The hydrogen sulfide explosions are extremely dangerous to life in the ocean. Hydrogen sulfide acts as a poison, and the explosions also remove oxygen from the water, suffocating sea life. The problem is that you can't film these events.

The concept: Our idea was to take Andy into the desert, which will have been established as a thinking space for our main characters, and as he walks the dunes contemplating the destructive force of the hydrogen sulfide events, he will pass through a series of frames where violent explosions erupt on cue.

This could be extremely effective, and very visual, but would it work? Could you get the explosives to fire? Would they fire on cue? How can we make sure that nobody gets hurt?

The lighthouse at Swakopmund, Namibia. Just as in Strange Days One, where we found ourselves saying "Think David Lynch not David Attenborough," in Swakopmund I kept repeating to myself, "Bronwen is the lighthouse."

Did You Say Explosives?

July 24, 2007. Swakopmund and Walvis Bay, Namibia.

Of all the stories that I've shot in my career, I've felt for a long time that this particular story was going to be a creative test -- and not just for me, but for the entire crew. The story itself is extremely compelling: explosions of hydrogen sulfide off the coast of Namibia have been killing ten's of thousands of fish. The mystery: how big are the explosions, what's causing them and what can be done -- if anything -- to lessen the impact?

The problem: There's very little that we can actually shoot. We don't have the time or money to wait for such an event to occur and most of the action, the sleuthing, takes place in minds of the scientists.

During the morning of our scout, we were guided by Kathy who lead us through the Ministry Building in a search for possible locations. The offices and the building were handsome and perched on the edge of the sea, but we'd traveled the whole way to Namibia, and shooting indoors just didn't seem right. Guided by our Production Assistant, Richard Berkley, we headed first to the desert and then on to Walvis Bay to continue our scout.

In the desert, Richard identified a number of locations, one of which might serve for a sequence when our scientists were considering the role of the desert in the story of explosive events. The desert was very impressive, and I began thinking that perhaps this location could play a bigger role in our story. As a location it was very cinematic but how could we use it . . . that was the question?

Next we headed off to Walvis Bay to scout possible warehouse locations at a place called Tuna Corp. In pictures that Richard sent to us, Tuna Corp's warehouses exuded a certain ambiance that might lend itself well to a series of sequences where our scientists were discussing potential scenarios that could explain the explosions in Namibia's waters. At Tuna Corp, we were met by George Pkuhn, who was going to guide us through the facility. Within a few short minutes of our tour, George mentioned that he was in the film business, too. I've heard this line a number of times, and I politely asked what he did. As George began speaking, I stopped dead.

"Did you say explosives?" I asked.
"Yes," George said. "I rig explosives for concerts and movies."
"What kind of explosives? Could you rig something pretty big with a lot of fire?"
"Sure, sure. That's what I do."
As we toured the warehouses at Tuna Corp, which proved to be very photogenic, I continued to question George about the possibility of rigging some explosives for us. I wasn't sure how I would use them, but if we could get explosives, I was sure that I could come up with something that would make sense.

As we left Tuna Corp, things were starting to come together. The ingredients:
1. A cool desert with amazing sand dunes
2. Railroad tracks that bisected part of the desert.
3. The potential of explosives.
4. Several empty warehouses with great lights and shadows.

How could these ingredients be used?

George Pkuhn is an explosive expert with decades of experience. The fact that George was missing one hand, and that we were going to try to put explosive into the film within a few short days, unnerved some of the crew just a little.

Chad, our assistant cameraman walks the desert . . .

. . . and his own sense of internal coolness . . .

. . . keeps him quite comfortable.

Namibia Begins

July 24, 2007. Swakopmund, Namibia.

We started early this morning, and we had a lot to do. On the list:

1. Drop off laundry for cleaning (Brook, our Line Producer, had already made it clear that me, Mark, Chad and Chris were beginning to push the bounds of decency; in fact days earlier she insisted that we all shower before she would let us in the van from Kumasi to Accra.)

2. Meet the scientist whom we'd be filming. Up until this point, they'd all been voices over crackly phone lines.

3. Scout locations. We'd only seen pictures of Swakopmund and nearby Walvis Bay, and I for one had been scratching my head, and if truth be told waking up in cold sweats, trying to figure out how we were going to visualize this sequence. (More on this later.)

1. Laundry: Check.

2. Scientists: Check Plus!

Scarla Weeks, Andrew Bakun, Kathy Peeard, and Bronwen Currie (whom we'd meet later the next day) proved to be marvelous, each possessing a unique and charming personality. Scarla is a satellite oceanographer with exuberant charisma, who would later say in her interview that her office was in space. Andy is a big thinker, who occasionally quotes Shakespeare, and has the distinct good looks of a Hollywood actor. Kathy is both shy and bold; shy in the sense that she avoids the camera when given the chance, and bold to the extent that she became an invaluable member of our production team -- scheduling, scouting, approving shots and even on occasion making sure that our Director of Photography had his camera set properly. ("Mark," she asked during a lab shoot, "Is your extender turned off?")

And then there's Bronwen . . . I'd asked myself prior to meeting her, "Who is this woman on the other side of the phone with such a sweet voice, who patiently answers all of my questions (even the dumb ones)? In person, Bronwen is just as sweet as I imagined, and I would come to recognize that her patience and serenity is born of her love of the ocean. Bronwen is a surfer who spends as much time as she can in the water. She's also a biker, who peddles each day to and from the office. A beginning surfer myself, and a lifelong biker, I can attest to the peacefulness that these activities can bring, but in Bronwen her spirit had quite comfortably and unequivocally merged with her constant motion. Bronwen moves as if her feet barely touch the ground.

The excitement I felt upon meeting our scientists (and dropping off my laundry) was short lived. As we began scouting, it became painfully clear that we had less than twelve hours to reinvent an entire sequence that we had traveled half way around the world to shoot. And the clock was ticking.

Kathy and Bronwen discuss hydrogen sulfide, fish stocks, bacteria (and wonder what's for lunch.)

Scarla and Bronwen examining satellite images of Namibia's coastline.

Me and Andrew in the desert near Swakopmund.

Hello Namibia

July 23, 2007. Windhoek, Namibia.

After two long flights and a layover in South Africa, we arrived in Windhoek, Namibia feeling a bit whacked from the air travel and looking down the barrel of a five-hour drive. For all of us, Windhoek was a bit of a surreal experience at first. Perhaps it was the contrast to the hot, muggy and lush landscape of Ghana that took us off guard. Windhoek was dry and clear. We were surrounded by a vast expanse of desert and comforted by a cool breeze. The hustle and crowds of Ghana were gone, now replaced by a profound sense of isolation. "Where are we?" Chad, our assistant cameraman, asked in disbelief.

I think we were all experiencing a sense of being lost and trying to come to terms with this new location, which quite frankly didn't match up to any of our expectations. Mark Knobil, our Director of Photography, and Chris Strollo, our Soundman, (who have both worked extensively in Africa before) seemed a bit confused. For me, I think it was sensory deprivation. There was a single black road, beige sand (like some sort of lunar landscape) and blue sky. The only vestige of our Ghana experience was the baboons. There they were, seemingly larger, sitting on the side of the road like sentinels. It was strange seeing baboons out in the open among desert scrub brush. The baboons looked like dusty old books, sitting in lines along the side of the road.

As we drove into the night, our new colleague and driver ,AJ, answered periodic questions about the land, the people and the wildlife. The baboons in Namibia aren't a big problem though their numbers are growing. The giraffes we were seeing were part of game parks, a burgeoning new business. Hunting parks too were big. If you wanted to shoot a lion that could be arranged for 10K US, an elephant 25K and so on.

Late in the evening we finished crossing the desert and arrived in Swakopmund, which sits on the desert's edge of the coast. The town was eerily quiet, and the extremely wide streets, which were first built to accommodate ox carts, were devoid of any life. A thick blanket of fog covered the entire town, and it was very cold thousands of miles from Ghana, and even further from home.

Farewell Ghana (& the Big Headed Greenback)

July 22, 2007. Accra, Ghana.

This evening we loaded our gear for the last time in Ghana and were whisked off to the airport, lead once again by Teddy Sabutey, our fixer. At the airport, Teddy worked his magic for a final time and we breezed through customs and all the long lines at the airport. It was nothing short of miraculous. We did however run into one small obstacle that at first even stunned Teddy. When we went to pay for our excess baggage (we checked 19 bags), we were a bit shocked to discover that the airport doesn't take credit cards. Not to be shaken easily, Brook, our Line Producer, reached into her own magic bag and retrieved more than five hundred dollars in cash to pay the bill. Not so fast . . . To our surprise, our money was no good. The reason: our US currency was of the older variety, the kind where the President's portrait is smaller than that of the new currency. "We only take the Big Heads," the woman at the counter informed us.

We'd run into this problem before in Ghana. It was never really clear to me if the preference for big headed Presidents was born out of a fear of counterfeiting or simply just a penchant for big headed Presidents. It was hit or miss whether somebody would take your money. None the less, at the airport we were in a bit of the bind. We all scrambled for our wallets in a search for Big Headed Greenbacks. Fifty dollars here, one fifty there, eighty dollars in my own wallet. We came up very shy of Big Heads. We decided to make a dash for a money machine to retrieve Ghanaian bills, however there's a limit to what can be withdrawn (about the equivalent of $150 US per day). To complicate matters there were no machines to be found in our terminal, and the clock was ticking. We headed back outside and to another terminal, where Teddy worked his magic and got us through security and into the airport through an Exit Only door. Brook and Teddy headed inside, found no machines, but lucked into an Exchange booth. With a fist full of crisp, new Big Headed bills, we were on our way.
Teddy is without a doubt one of the best fixers in the world, and probably the best I've ever had the pleasure to work with. Whether it was getting us permission to shoot in a difficult location with hours notice, or running interference when we got ourselves in trouble, Teddy performed with grace, dignity and style.

After drinks at the bar, we killed some time with this garbage can. It performed its role well in a dramatic and powerful story filled with excitement, love, loss and the inevitable tragedy that so often unfolds when individuals follow their hearts.

The excitement and possibilities implicit in new love.
A chance encounter leads to romance . . .
. . . and ultimately to love.
With the passage of time, love reveals itself to be fleeting, and a distance is created until . . .
Betrayal.
The pain of a broken hearts.

The Heat Sets In

July 18, 2007. Mole National Park, Ghana

Although the weather in Mole has been unseasonably pleasant, it still can get very hot. Water here is also scarce and only runs a few times a day, and then only for a very short period -- maybe only an hour. Just when the water is going to run is anybody's guess. Each of us has two five-gallon buckets, which we try to keep full. These buckets are used for bathing and flushing the toilets, and we've all been very good about rationing and sharing water when necessary. It's a valued commodity, though it's not good for drinking. After arriving and shooting for a few days in Mole, a few of us have gotten sick, probably from the water. Whatever we had, it zapped strength and resulted in cramps and dizziness. We all running a little slower than normal, but I think we're capturing some beautiful images that will help shed light on an important story.

When rain calls a halt to the shooting, we take refuge in an air-conditioned room. On this day we were all thankful that we had electricity, and we took this opportunity to take a brief nap together. Ghana is in the midst of an energy crisis. The country relies on hydropower, and most of the major reservoirs are painfully low. As a result, there are countrywide rolling blackouts. Power is provided from the main grid in forty-eight hour cycles, so that places get two days of power and then are left on their own. Many rely on generators to make up for the days without power.

Baboons, Woman & Children

July 18, 2007. Mole National Park, Ghana

As much fun as they are to watch, we're really getting a sense of how much of a problem the baboons can be. One interesting thing that has been brought to our attention is that baboons don't seem to have any fear of women. In speaking to the workers of the park, this fact comes up again and again. In fact, recently just to test this hypothesis, a worker here dressed up as woman and mingled with the females working outside near the kitchen. When the baboons came by, as they do most evenings as dinner is being prepared, a few of them went about hassling the women and chasing them. When they approached the man dressed up in costume, they stopped dead in their tracks. They paused for a moment to give him a closer look. Once they realized that he was a man, they ran away to safety.

According to Brashares, baboons can also be incredibly aggressive. For instance, he reported one case in Kenya where he witnessed two male baboons attempting to take a baby from the arms of its mother. The baboons lunged repeatedly at the woman, bearing their teeth, barking and circling her. Confused and frightened, the woman was hysterical and didn't know what to do as the baboons got more brazen and aggressive. Finally, a man came to her aid and forced the baboons away.

These Patas monkeys, pictured below, can also be quite aggressive. One morning, when I was watching them, one looked up at me and then charged, swatting at me -- its arms flailing. I jumped back and tried to take a posture to scare him off, but he kept on coming. Finally, he backed away when a worker from the motel ran up with a slingshot. Moments later, the Patas raided our breakfast table as we sat. They jumped on the table, went right for the sugar and jam and stuffed their mouths full before darting off.

Chris's Special Evening

July 17, 2007. Larabanga, Ghana

After a full day of shooting, Chris, our soundman, stayed behind in Larabanga. His intention was to work with a Master drummer from the community, and he had high hopes of getting a private drumming lesson. To Chris's surprise and delight, rather than a lesson, the people in the community performed music from the Damba yam festival. This involves a complex drumming style of the same name. Chris points out that there's a dispute among musicologists as to how to count and notate this style of drumming. There are very few recordings of music from Northern Ghana, so the people of Larabanga fall into the cultural group known as the Gonja. This is a recording of drummers performing on the evening of a much-awaited thunderstorm. The group included a very old master drummer accompanied by several of the men who acted a hunters in the film. For Chris, the entire experience was magical, as it was only lit by lightening from the thunderstorm. Enjoy this rare recording courtesy of Chris!

Bushmeat Hunters

July 16, 2007. Mole National Park, Ghana.

Racing the last light of the day, we met a group of hunters from the community of Larabanga in order to recreate a dreamlike sequence that would illustrate hunting pressures on the park. Bushmeat is an integral part of Ghanaian culture, and hunters, like these, play a vital role in providing food for their communities.

The question that the people of Ghana face focuses on how to create sustainable harvests of bushmeat without depleting the resource. At the moment hunting is regulated to a certain degree by issuing permits, but this practice in and of itself is not enough according biologists like Moses Sam, one of our featured scientists. Currently, there are efforts underway to farm some animals, such as grass cutters, which are giant rats, but the results are mixed. Farming these animals is not simple and still requires a fair amount of food to produce a harvestable animal.

Up Close With Elephants

July 16, 2007. Mole National Park, Ghana.

Early in the morning we set off with our guide, Samuel Anponsah Mensah, and headed into the park with the hopes of shooting elephants. We would not be disappointed. Samuel guided our vehicle down over the escarpment and into the alluvial plain. We passed through grasslands, and through the dense bush on a road that resembled a trail. After about a twenty minute drive, we took off on foot, and we didn't have to walk very far before meeting our first elephants taking their morning bath. As you might imagine, we were all thrilled to see these majestic animals at such a close range. For their part, the elephants didn't give us a second thought -- they lounged in the water, spraying, drinking and occasionally rough-housing.

There are approximately 800 elephants in Mole National Park, and unlike their distant cousins living in East Africa ( in places like Kenya) very little is known about these animals. Their groups have not been identified and none of them have been studied as individuals. The elephants of Mole present an incredible opportunity for any budding biologist looking to contribute to science.
Elephant footprints that have filled with water from rainfall the previous night.
Our Guide on this morning, Samuel Anponsah Mensah.
Elephants departing the watering hole stop to take a look at us before heading back into the bush.

Ghana Wildlife Division Archives

July 15, 2007. Mole National Park, Ghana

Don't let the cluttered nature of these photos fool you; this archive of data, collected over more than thirty years by the Ghana Wildlife Division, at more than seventy sights across the country, is one of the most complete records of animal abundance and distribution collected anywhere in the world. In fact, nothing like it exists for large mammals in North America or Europe. Despite its richness and value, the archive, like much of the animals it records, needs protection. A plan is currently in place for the archive to be transcribed, however, the work is currently being done by hand, which is painstakingly slow. Brashares and his colleagues at the Ghana Wildlife Division are seeking support that would speed up the effort and ensure that this valuable resource can be preserved. The plan entails bringing on more help by purchasing a scanner and computers at cost of approximately ten thousand dollars. A very small price to save such an incredible resource. (For anybody interested in contributing, please contact Justin Brashares or Moses Sam: Brashares@nature.berkley.edu or mkofisam@gmail.com).

Elephants and Cell Phones

July 15, 2007. Mole National Park, Ghana.

We're staying at the only overnight facility in Mole National Park, the Mole Motel. The motel is perched above a dam, and looks out across the countryside. The views are spectacular, and the dam looks more like a watering hole. Wart hogs have the run of the motel, and they can be seen everywhere. They kneel on their front legs eating every piece of greenery that they can find sprouting from the red dirt. Baboons, too, are very common and troops move through the park, swinging from trees, running through the dirt and bounding over the hill on their way to the water below. There are also lizards, big and small, that come in a multiple array of colors. When I see them, I can't help but think of my 10-year-old daughter, Zelda, who has become quite the lizard wrangler in Pacific Grove, California. However, of all the animals that I've seen thus far, the most surprising to me were the elephants.

This morning, I awoke around 5:30 in the morning, and I staggered out of bed to make breakfast by six. I checked my bathroom to see if the water was running (it wasn't, and would not run all day.) After that, I went out the back door of my room to look out over the valley below. As I stood on my porch, I heard the voice of Chad, who is rooming right next to me. "Elephants," he said, and pointed down toward the water. I rubbed my eyes and looked down the hill, and there they were: elephants. It was a group of five females and one young male standing in the water taking their morning bath. Just beyond them, in a stand of trees, stood a group of eight. It was an incredible sight and I took a seat to watch them. As I did, I have to admit that I felt very lucky to be in their presence, but at the same time the moment was tarnished by so many inescapable truths. Mole National Park, despite it's greatness, is under intense pressure of human development. Not far from the elephants, on the horizon to my left there was a cell phone tower. Like shoots of weeds, these towers are springing up everywhere, massive metal harbingers of the changes yet to come. Don't get me wrong, I think it's amazing that I can pick up my phone in the Ghanaian wilderness and call anywhere in the world, but this luxury comes with a price. "How long can these elephants last?," I wondered. " Will future parks like Mole become nothing more than large zoos?" For the people who know me, these questions come as no surprise. I no longer believe in the concept of "nature" as being a separate place, untouched by human hands. It's a myth, one often perpetuated by colleagues working in film, that there exists this vast untamed world. Yes, there are elephants and they should be revered and appreciated. Take the time to watch them and be humbled by their majesty. Feel honored to be in their presence, but keep your eyes on the horizon.

Below is a picture of the elephants from my bedroom in Mole National Park. We'd be getting much closer in the following days. After watching the elephants, and a cup of Nescafe coffee (which I have to admit, I'm starting to enjoy) we went to the nearby village of Larabanga, which has a population of approximately 4,000 people. The purpose of our trek was to meet with leaders from the local village to discuss our upcoming shooting plans. The meeting was held near one center of the village and was attended by the film crew, myself, and sixteen representatives from the village. A new guide named Eben served as a translator. After a morning prayer, we described our intentions and were warmly received.

Larabanga is predominantly Muslim, and most of the residents are farmers. Like the fisherman in Accra, the people here have to work a great deal in order to seek out a living. Their major crops are corn, groundnuts, yams and cassava, and they depend on rainfall to grow their crops; there is no irrigation. In addition to the fate of the rains, the farmers have to contend with elephants, which enter their fields from Mole National Park. Elephants can make short order of crops and destroy an entire harvest in a single morning. Monkeys are also major crop raiders. Of all the animals that the farmers have to contend with, though, perhaps the biggest threat, according to Justin Brashares, comes from the baboon populations. Their numbers in some places have increased by more than 600%. Brashares points out that while the villagers may be concerned most with the elephants, the data suggests that the baboons are the bigger problem.
Our morning meeting in Larabanga. The people of this community speak [Kamara], which is a language unique to this small town of 4,000 people.
The children of Larabanga were extremely beautiful and friendly. This young boy stood by my side, rubbing the hairs on my arm. He ultimately sat beside me, and held my hand, content to swing his feet back and forth, which dangled above the red dirt. The smile never left his face.