AN ARIEL VIEW OF CAMP BALCONES SPRINGS.
The point of this retreat was to teach me and my fellow counselors how to facilitate activities and discussions, while also giving us a way to truly bond with one another. It was an amazing weekend, one void of the burdens of homework, stress, and bad food. We were outdoors a lot, honing our leadership skills, working together in teams, and were simply enjoying each other’s company. In my opinion, it couldn’t have been better. However, there was another experience that I took away from camp, and it was one that I did not expect at all—an experience that revealed to me up close why, throughout human history, “beasts have been feared, loved, beaten, caressed, starved, stuffed, and ignored.”[1]
For those of you who have never been to Camp Balcones Springs, it is a very, very large outdoor area, the majority of which is just open fields. Amidst the basketball and volley courts, there are random animals (mainly llamas) roaming free, which is quite a site to behold.
THERE WERE ANIMALS ROAMING EVERYWHERE!
It is definitely a place where “animals have lived intimately with man.”[2] As a result, most of us were able to get really close to, and even pet the llamas. They seemed to have no problem with us, and we coexisted well. Yet, this all changed on Saturday afternoon.
While I wasn’t able to see it, this story spread like wild fire throughout the campsite. Jon, one of the counselors, was minding his own business—just waling through the beach volleyball court. Unbeknownst to Jon, one of the llamas had spent all morning in that same exact area, apparently claiming it. So, one minute Jon is leisurely walking through the sand, and the next he is knocked over from behind by a llama, falls to the ground, is stepped on by the llama, and is finally able to break free, punch the llama in the nose, and then run away.
I IMAGINE THIS IS SIMILAR TO WHAT THE MAIN EVENT LOOK LIKED.
I was reminded of this when reading about the elephant that had gone “must,” which led it to “suddenly come upon [a man] round the corner of the hut, caught him with its truck, put its foot on his back and ground him to the earth.”[3] Lucky for Jon, llamas don’t weigh that much. News soon spread that the llama would no longer be staying at Camp Balcones Springs.
I found this occurrence so interesting because of how it perfectly fits into our course theme at the moment, and it also raised several ethical questions within myself. Did the llama deserve to be removed? Will the llama be killed? Did the llama act with malicious intent, or was it merely claiming its area? I think that sometimes we as humans forget, or simply don’t want to believe, that a fluffy, goofy looking animal can be aggressive. Thus, when it does, we feel betrayed and respond with aggression. As for this particular example, I admire the camp for letting animals roam free, but they shouldn’t allow it when they have more than 70 human visitors. This creates too many opportunities for conflict. This is just one example of how humans have come to interact—and continue to misunderstand and abuse—with animals.
I grew up in a fairly large community that was definitely pro-hunting and fishing. I would say more than half of my male classmates, and quite a few female classmates, had killed an animal with some type of projectile for fun. Personally, I disagree with hunting on a number of levels (though I definitely don’t agree with those that would say “I’d sooner, except the penalties, kill a man than a hawk”[4]). For one, I cannot stand it when people call it a sport. It isn’t. Hunting takes no athletic ability, doesn’t use a ball of any kind, it is done sitting down, and the odds are no where near being fair. While I understand how “compelling the more romantic violent, and dangerous process of confrontation and conquest”[5]can be, I fail to comprehend how shooting an unsuspecting animal is remotely competitive. Also, I can’t for the life of me figure out why self-respecting human being would want to get up at four in the morning, cover their faces with grease paint, carry around animal urine, and sit out in the freezing cold in complete silence for hours upon hours. It sounds like a pretty boring day to me.
DO THEY REALIZE HOW DUMB THEY LOOK? I DOUBT IT.
Finally, I don’t agree with the amount of pride hunters have in their “prizes.” It’s like “You pulled a trigger on a piece of machinery to kill a living thing so that you can hang it up in your already creepy living room—congratulations.” I can’t help but believe that hunting is a selfish and completely asinine “sport.”
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