I really enjoyed getting to read this book, it had that element that I was looking for and enjoyed in this type of book. I enjoyed the tales that Jack Rathmell told in this and enjoyed the overall feel of this. It was engaging and Jack Rathmell wrote this perfectly.

An engaging memoir of the author’s time spent abroad in South Africa as a voluntourist.
Voluntourism is a travel plan that allows you to travel with the purpose of giving back to the local communities as a volunteer abroad, something I learned from this memoir.
The plan that author Jack Rathmell undertakes thrice, to tour, volunteer and experience South Africa, a country, which is the very opposite to Rathmell’s life in Pennsylvania Amish county in USA; geographically, economically, socially, ecologically, culturally, and much more.
Rathmell is prepared to shocked, and one can only thank his strict discipline of writing down every observation and interaction and heard anecdote into a memoir that is engaging, informative, and entertaining.
The memoir begins with a bite, Rathmell is on a diving tour, a deep sea diving tour where he can dive with a great white shark. Thrilling and full of suspense, this anecdote sets the pace for the rest of the book, and is a highlight. It introduces us to Rathmell’s philosophy, which I think guided him to South Africa in the first place — to explore and see the world that is out there, and how formative those teenage years are, they do shape you and your worldview.
The memoir, How the Rhino Lost His Horn; Rathmell denotes an anecdote described by a forest ranger on how they either dye the horn of a rhino pink or saw it off to save them from poachers, is both touching and startling, a startled look into the way of life of animals in South Africa’s vast green reserves. The book is peppered with instances where Rathmell’s adoration of the country’s vast and rich landscape is written in vivid detail, resulting him noting with a philosophical conclusion of “a landscape so impossibly beautiful that any sign of human civilization—our trappings of steel, brick, and cement—no matter how well designed or aesthetically pleasing, would have been an eyesore.
Divided into two parts, Rathmell balances his memoir with enough anecdotes and philosophical notes that keep you hooked. His comical struggles whilst dealing with his terrible roommates — Chet and Fergus, the complex friendship of forming meaningful bonds with new students who will leave after three months and maintaining it across timezones. Even culturally navigating South Africa’s many stratified societal groups post Apartheid and still healing from it, and learning about its history and politics.
He does diverge, often opting a self-possessed outlook on the politics of USA (Trump era) and South Africa, which might alienate a few readers, and also does stall the reading a bit. But, he doesn’t take away from the almost bildungsroman -esque quality to the memoir.
His drive to explore and discover himself sees him trying bungee jumping (to a disastrous effect), spotting lions on a safari, dating disasters, trying to find his place in a group of constantly changing roommates, and debate with them and himself the ethics of ‘voluntourism’ with insight and a good sense of humour.
Towards the end, one can notice the difference in perspective, the confidence of the Jack Rathmell, who first arrived as a teenager is to volunteer as a gym teacher at a local school in Muizenberg, a community near Cape Town, to the one who leaves with a wider sense of the world.
A skilfully written personal memoir, How the Rhino Lost His Horn is perfect for those who want to explore their connection with the world and their place in it.