Day 7- Inland and Inward: Journey to Zimbabwe

This morning carried us once more into motion—an early departure from the hotel to OR Tambo International Airport and onward to Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe. It was a bittersweet farewell to our guide and newfound friend, Manuela Daniel. From her, we learned much more than history and geography—we learned connection. She reminded us that some people enter our lives for only a brief stretch of road, yet shape our path as leaders and leave their fingerprints on our hearts.

What stayed with many of us about Manuela was her hope—hope for the still-young South African democracy, and hope born from an intellect as vast as the landscapes she described. Her knowledge spanned history and geology, architecture and sociology, political science and agriculture—an education both formal and lived. In her company, we learned not only about South Africa, but about the parts of ourselves still waiting to be named. If you read this, Manuela, please know the impact you’ve had on us could not be measured by our words in a blog- you’ve touched our hearts and inspired us more than we can say. Thank you.

As we crossed the border, we moved from a place that tested the mind to one that would test the body—from the analytical rhythm of cities to the heat and hum of the bush. Our conversations turned toward anticipation: of wildlife and wonder, of a once-in-a-lifetime chance to explore what lies beyond the comfort of the familiar. We spoke of gratitude—to CALF, to one another—for the chance to seek what every leader ultimately seeks: new perspective and a glimpse of who we are becoming.

In this transition, many of us felt a quiet shift—an awakening to the practice of noticing. Though we each can personalize it in our own way, to notice is to lead with eyes wide open: to see not just the grandeur of the landscape, but the subtle gestures of generosity, the strain in a laborer’s hands, the courage in a small act of repair. It is the discipline of paying attention to what most overlook—the intersection of need and possibility, the small truths that build great change. Each of us, in our own way, has taken on the challenge to become a noticer: to slow down enough to see what the world reveals when we truly look, and to carry those observations forward as the seeds of better leadership.

Landing in Victoria Falls, the air itself seemed to greet us—hot, alive, and humming with possibility. Our new guides, Daphne and Iain “Rinty” Lindsay, offered both welcome and orientation as we journeyed to the Waterfall Lodge, our home amid this new terrain. Our first stop was Ele-Collection, an extraordinary initiative co-founded by Rainer Von Urff Kaufeld, a Zimbabwe native whose vision converts discarded plastic into building materials that safeguard elephants and empower his community. Each day, thousands of pounds of plastic—bottles, debris, fragments of neglect—are transformed into aggregate, keeping the streets cleaner and the elephants safer. His work began with a single question: What can I do to help my community thrive?

The answer took shape in heartbreak. In recent years, post-mortems in Victoria Falls have revealed elephants—and countless other species—dead with stomachs packed with plastic, silent victims of a mounting waste crisis born of our excess and neglect. At the town’s dumpsite, herds once foraged through trash heaps in search of food, consuming shards of plastic bags and bottles that their bodies could not pass. Rainer and his teammates, Ben and Simon, refused to look away. Instead, they built a system that assigns value to what was once worthless, paying locals for every kilogram collected and transforming the waste into durable building materials. What began as a fight for elephants became a blueprint for human dignity—a circular economy where conservation fuels livelihoods, and every recycled bottle becomes both a paycheck and a promise.

Ranier is the very image of community leadership—gritty, inventive, resilient. His story is one of turning adversity into impact, of using storytelling not as performance but as purpose. Click the embedded link in the prior sentence to see more about what we mean. Through him, we found ourselves wondering how we, too, might create change within our own spheres—how we might lead with both heart and hands.

We ended the day at The Lookout Café, perched high above the Zambezi River and the Victoria Falls Bridge that binds Zimbabwe and Zambia. The view was breathtaking—mist rising from the gorge, sunset spilling gold across the river. Ranier joined us once more, his stories deepening our understanding of resilience in the face of scarcity, and of purpose born from persistence.

As we shared a meal and gazed across the vastness before us, reflection settled in. This journey is not only about shared experience—it is about recognizing how the immensity of the world mirrors the immensity of our own potential. The magnitude of this place invites us to see that even daunting challenges, when faced with courage, become gateways to growth. When we asked Ranier how leaders summon passion and begin building something greater than themselves, his answer was simple but true: Speak with passion. Believe in yourself.

In the end, Rainer showed us it is the willingness to do hard things that forges us—making us more connected, more compassionate, more capable, and ultimately, more impactful. His story reminded us that leadership is not found in grand gestures, but in the quiet courage to begin—again and again—where it matters most.

With gratitude,

Andrew, Carson, and Megan
Class 54