
It feels like only yesterday that we used to rock around Portland. We boarded the Max, every colored line, without fear or restrictions, enjoying the ride with smiles and uncovered faces. I was free to enjoy theater performances, soccer matches, afro dance classes, music shows, and other public events across the U.S. I even half achieved my childhood dream of visiting Chicago and taking a selfie next to the Michael Jordan statue. I made it to Chicago but learned the statue had been moved inside the stadium; my selfie dream remains a dream. My stay in Portland made me change my allegiance from the Chicago Bulls to the Portland Trail Blazers, though, so maybe someday I’ll be taking a selfie with Damian Lillard!
Fast forward to the present day– things are at a standstill and we’ve lost the privileges to network and socialize. Everybody understands why we’ve had to give them up; we just hope that things will get back to normal soon.
When I’m asked to share a story about Portland, I find it difficult to choose one: my memory disk is overflowing. I fondly remember so many moments we Fellows shared as a group, and some nights, I even dream about the World Forestry Center community.
Sometimes, I dream about walking into the office and seeing Jamie, seated at her desk, smiling beautifully at me in a way that meant, “You are late.” Once, my wife woke me up to ask, “Who is Rudolfo? You were talking in your sleep, asking him something about eco co!” I also have wonderful memories of the museum staff and everyone else—too many to recount each one. I miss the hugs from Brazil, the loud laughter from China, and the snack box. I confess I miss the snack box the most, so much that I made a version here at home for myself. I call it “Power Bank.”
By that measure, I rate the year poorly—I wanted to plant more trees.

Richard’s daughter with some “treasures” from his time in Portland.

Photo of a Zebra at Nyika National park.
After leaving Portland, I returned to the warm heart of Africa: Malawi. I adjusted quickly to avoid prolonged culture shock. I wanted to start utilizing the skills and connections I had acquired in the U.S. right away. In the beginning, things went well, and I soon negotiated with the Viphya Plantation to preserve 1000 hectares of land. Currently, progress is halted due to general inactivity caused by the pandemic, but I am hopeful that my team and I will strengthen this partnership and complete our plan of establishing Eucalyptus and Pinus plantations. Upon arriving home, I was also hired by Pyxus Agriculture to manage 30 hectares as part of a reforestation campaign to plant eucalyptus. Since 2015, this is the only time I’ve supervised the planting of less than 50 hectares. By that measure, I rate the year poorly—I wanted to plant more trees.
My career as a forester will never be the same again.
Aside from work, I am loving my role as a family man. In Portland, I lived like a bachelor, but now I enjoy spending most of my time playing with my daughter and cooking some of the recipes I missed. My daughter was only three days old when I left Malawi, so I confess I didn’t feel her absence while I was in Portland. Now, though, I can’t imagine leaving her for six months; she is my best friend. I have also opened up a small livestock farm, where I hope to keep goats, chicken, pigs, and cattle so that if one of you visits Malawi, we will have enough meat for the feast.
When the world returns to normal, I will refocus on establishing the plantation that will employ youth and women, conserve biodiversity and boost Malawi’s economy.
I appreciate the efforts of Harry Merlo Jr., Shadia Duery, Janet, my host, and all the individuals and organizations that support the Fellowship program. As a Fellow, I met so many friends of Malawi who gave me a family away from home. The program transformed me, allowing me to have a better understanding of global forestry and networking. My career as a forester will never be the same again.

Richard with his daughter.







