I’m an archaeologist. My research has brought me to southern Africa for three field seasons – a total of 9 months. Africa has always fascinated me; the images the Savannah with the lone baobab tree towering over the vast landscape; the majestic elephant plodding miles and miles towards an ancient memory of a lush waterhole; African women with babies tied to their backs and pails of water vicariously balanced on their heads; and of course, for me, the remnants of millions of years of human evolution buried deep in the ground.
I love the research that I do there. I uncover stone tools and other artifacts that were created by the ancestors of all of humanity. I work outside under the hot African sun, springbok and eland pass by us in the distance while we excavate, I take my lunch breaks at the river to watch the elephants spray themselves with mud to cool off, and I get to live in remote regions of Africa where the people are still fascinated by anything foreign and anybody “white”. The team is accepted as part of the community and we get to immerse ourselves in new cultures and traditions. The people we meet are kind, generous, and excited about the work we do and want to help out. We hire local people and try to include the nearby towns and villages in our projects. We seek the guidance and skills of the people who live there, live with them, work with them, and develop important relationships with them.
And then we leave. The field season comes to an end. We drive away in the Land Rover with the artifacts and information we have gathered. We want to come back to that region and we believe we will, but usually we don’t. We get funded for a new project somewhere else, and we go there.
It hurts to leave and do nothing. With the memories of Africa comes the sadness. There are so many individuals and communities suffering from poverty and disease. People die every day secretly in their homes for fear of the stigmatism associated with AIDS. Children who want to go to school can’t afford to. Adolescents are raising their younger siblings because they lost their parents. People suffer from malnutrition and parasites and lack the medical supplies, clothing, and footwear that we take for granted. People have the same big dreams we do, but the struggle of everyday existence prevents them from ever becoming a reality.
That’s why I got involved with the G.R.O. Foundation. I am indebted to Africa for allowing me to conduct research there, for giving me the life-altering experiences I have had there, and for welcoming me as a traveler, researcher, and guest. I have to give back.
Poverty and disease is a global issue. Every country is affected by it in some way. I don’t know if there is a way to end all the suffering in the world, but I do know that small acts of kindness can change somebody’s life. And that changing one person’s life can affect hundreds of others. If one student in Lesotho gets to attend High School because of the time and money I have volunteered, then I know I have had made a difference. And, if I the experience I gain doing this internship with the G.R.O. Foundation and use it to ensure that I am always conducting fair and socially responsible archaeology, even better.
By Jayne Wilkins
Posted under The Vision