Zuzette de Beer, a small South African lady with a voice that was made for storytelling, was the leader of the group we were following. She held up a branch of a thorn bush gingerly and said that in the Zulu tribe, this particular bush – of all the other plants with thorns scattered on the plains – was no ordinary one. When a Zulu dies in a place far from home, a member of his family would take a branch of the bush with him when he went to fetch the remains of the dead one. If he had to take a train to, say, Johannesburg, he would pay for two seats (one for him and the other for the branch); if he ate in a restaurant, he would order meals for two; he would even converse with the branch – aloud, not just in his mind.
"The Zulu people believe that one must not just retrieve the body of the dead but retrieve his spirit as well," said Zuzette. And that thorn branch symbolizes the coming home of the dead man’s spirit.
The second story was left on my bed at Entabeni Game Reserve. Every night, we would return to our tents and find on our beds a piece of paper with an animal legend written on it. My favorite was how the lion got his mighty roar. It’s said that even though he was the most feared creature among all animals, the lion had a very gentle voice and the other animals never knew when he was on the hunt. One day, the animals gathered and said they must find a way to make the lion’s voice sound "like the terrible thunder of a summer storm" so that they would know when he was hunting.
The hare volunteered to do this and found the lion resting under a tree. The hare told him the lion’s brother was ill and he took the lion miles and miles around the bushveld. After several hours, the weary lion laid down and slept. The hare found a wild bees’ nest and dribbled honey all over the sleeping lion’s paws and head. When the bees returned, they saw that their hive had been raided and they were terribly angry. When they found the lion with honey all over him, the bees attacked him and the lion was painfully stung so many times that his soft cries soon swelled into thunderous roars that could be heard all around. From that day on, all the animals could hear the lion from a long way and be warned that the King of Beasts was on the hunt.
The third story came on the first day of our nine days in South Africa for the Cathay Pacific International Wilderness Experience, where a dozen Asian journalists traveled with 42 students from all over Asia and met up with 10 South African students. We were in a Johannesburg hotel and the kids were tentatively getting to know each other. Hanneke van der Merwe, head of Ubungani, a non-profit organization that runs environmental courses and leadership development, simply said, "Everyone cries at the end."
We had traveled 13 hours from Hong Kong, we were jet lagged, tired and cold. The idea of goodbyes seemed so distant – nine days away, in fact – but as the students piled on the buses to take us to Entabeni Private Game Reserve and they burst into songs, we thought: Maybe everybody does cry at the end.
Cathay Pacific has been sponsoring the wilderness experience since 1994 (the only year the event was not held was 2003 when Asia was plagued by SARS) to educate young people about the environment, expose them other cultures and help them build awareness and self-confidence.
The program started as a rhinoceros awareness/conservation project and held at the Lapalala sanctuary in the Waterberg region for six years, with the first batch having 20 kids from Hong Kong and 20 from South Africa. The program was the brainchild of Tertius Van Zyl, then marketing manager for Cathay Pacific South Africa, who told me, "We wanted to bring together the end users and producers of the rhinos" – the Chinese were grinding rhino horns for their medicines. To make the most impact meant they had to plant the seeds of conservation with the young – students 16 to 18 years old.
"In our first year, we just thought of the environmental benefits," says Hanneke. "We were surprised at the wonderful effects being exposed to the different cultures brought. South Korea came, then Taiwan, then the other countries. I asked the program to be extended for six days, then seven, eight and nine days until they told me to stop!"
Hanneke continued, "A long time ago in our country, it was very easy to get corporate sponsorship, but not anymore. It’s almost like people got tired and started to forget. Which is why I believe Cathay is very special. It believes in the development of young people, in looking after nature."
This year, 15 countries joined the program (to date, more than 400 students have participated). Each country held an essay writing contest on the environment and interviews with the candidates. This year, Cathay Pacific Philippines sent three students – Ashley Natashya Gutierrez and Joanne Kristine Mamaril from Manila, and Gayle Opsima from Cebu – who had topped the essay contest and hurdled two panel interviews led by Cathay country manager for the Philippines Mark Sutch. They were the seventh set of Filipino students to participate and like the ones before them, had no idea how life-changing the program would be.
Cathay Pacific country manager for South Africa Don Hunter told the students in Jo’burg, "Remember what you’re feeling today – a little scared of what the next nine days would be because you don’t know anybody in this group aside from your countrymen – and take a snapshot of it in your mind. Then compare it with how you feel when you leave at the end of the wilderness experience."
For the second time, the wilderness program was held at the Entabeni Game Reserve, a 12,000-hectare property in the Limpopo Province, boasting the Big Five animals of Africa (lion, leopard, elephant, rhinoceros and buffalo). Adrian Venter, Entabeni assistant general manager, explains that the Big Five are the five most dangerous animals to hunt and in the olden days when it was legal to hunt them all, people had to get two licenses – one for the Big Five animals and another for the rest of the animals.
Throughout the program, the journalists stayed at Wildside Camp, which is nestled in the cliffs of the Waterberg mountain, where you can experience "roughing it up" without really roughing it up. We did stay in tents but the tents had beds with a heated mattress, and a zip-up bathroom. Because the temperature on certain nights reached a freezing, snowless zero or -1 degree (and as hot as 26 degrees during the day with the sun bouncing off the plains) it became a routine for us to slip our clothes under the blankets to heat them before getting dressed. And as strange as it sounds, you actually feel warmer after a hot shower before sleeping, except, as my Malaysian roommate Ee Kee Li said, "As soon as you turn off the water, you’re shivering again."
Wildside Camp has 18 tents set among trees and sand paths. Because it is in a part of the reserve that is not fenced off from the animals – including the lions – a game ranger carrying a rifle would escort us to our tents as soon as it got dark in the evenings. In the mornings, because the days are shorter in winter, they would fetch us from our tents if it was still dark.
I asked one of the rangers if he had bullets or tranquilizer darts loaded on his rifle.
He said, "Bullets. By the time the tranquilizer takes effect, a lion would have eaten you."
"Okaaaay. So, how’s your aim?"
On another part of the property, about 15 minutes’ drive from Wildside Camp, the children’s camp was situated in a secure area – meaning, no lions or dangerous animals could roam there – on the edges of the bushveld. The tents housed from four to six students and they had separate shower stalls and toilets.
Near their tents was the campfire. Every night and whenever there was a lull in the activities, the kids would sit around the fire and break into a song. Richard, a student from South Africa, had brought his guitar and taught them a campfire song that goes: "Sitting by the campfire, it’s nice and warm, the sky is blue, let’s sing a tune" and each kid would recite a verse about his experience. Sometimes, they’d sing classics like Yesterday and one time they all broke into what is now a universal song for cartoon freaks: "Oh, who lives in a pineapple under the sea? Spongebob Squarepants!"
Throughout the nine days, the mood was light, filled with camaraderie and an openness to learn about the environment and about each other’s culture. The African bush was as far as learning in a classroom could get and yet it was as meaningful as it could possibly be.
On their first morning, the students – now broken into groups and led by Ubungani officers Hanneke, Zuzette, Johann Lombard, Lesego Ramorola and Pieter Lessing – had their first team-building activity as they were instructed to cook breakfast without talking to each other. The silent chefs cooked French toast, eggs, and prepared cereal signaling to each other with their hands and mouths.
How did they react when these chatty kids found out they weren’t allowed to speak? "They were just shocked into silence," Zuzette said with a chuckle.
The lesson was clear: In a world where there is endless chatter and noise, people have forgotten how to communicate in silence. Also, when you push aside cultural differences and work toward one goal, you can achieve a lot.
Hanneke said, "They learn to tune in to other people, they become sensitive because sometimes you have quiet people and they don’t really come forward. When they’re all silent, they all have to decide on what to do and how to do it best."
Of course, there were burnt toasts, cold eggs and hastily washed dishes, but the group was very focused on their tasks. This is an activity that Cathay intentionally leaves out of the schedule that they give the kids – a surprise, if you will.
One night, we participated in the kids’ star gazing, where each group was led to a different part of the camp. Oh, how special the stars looked in South Africa – how clear, how big! – millions of them streaking the night sky. The Southern Cross, the pointers, and then, all of a sudden, a shooting star. Whispered wishes were hastily said. For us who have lived in crowded cities all our lives, where the brightest lights come from neon billboards, where smog blackens the early morning skies, it was truly memorable.
The star gazing activity was also a preparation for the kids who were going to sleep out in the nearby Pedi Village, one of South Africa’s tribes. Young Pedis danced to the sound of traditional drums and after their performance, the kids rolled out their sleeping bags and went to the Pedi huts for the night. The second sleep-out, unfortunately, was interrupted by rains. So at 4 a.m., Cathay Pacific marketing executive Tracey King, who had organized the entire wilderness experience from South Africa, escorted the kids back to their camp.
The next day, their spirits picked up as Hanneke announced – well, actually they heard the helicopter’s blades whirring even before she could say they were going on a ride. And the kids jumped and shrieked and broke the record for running towards a helicopter.
"It was such an adrenaline rush," said Gayle. "It taught me how to be more daring and courageous."
On the first game drive of the media group, we spotted giraffes having a snack on trees, impalas and antelopes, spring bucks which are the country’s national animal, a zebra, warthogs, a lazy crocodile sunning itself in the middle of the road, various species of birds and some wildebeests.
No Big Five animal – yet. But divided on two safari vehicles, trust media people to make up stories.
"We should tell them we saw lions," said Paras Tomar, a young TV host from India.
"And elephants," someone else piped in.
"And rhinos."
"And leopards."
I think it was Leigh Wither from New Zealand who said, "And a T-Rex."
Back at Wildside Camp, as we were walking towards the dining room for yet again another glorious South African meal – which sometimes included game meats (some animal populations have to be thinned and hunting them is regulated) – Paras said we should keep our stories straight for the other group to believe us.
I told him, "Yeah, but the T-Rex might give us away."
Game ranger Jacqui Glover explained that’s the way it is on a game reserve – these animals are not caged, they go wherever the hell they please and if they don’t feel like showing up for tourists, well, they won’t. The next, early-morning game drive, however, yielded lions. A pack drinking from a water source, including their cubs. And when the kids went on their second drive, they were able to see lions up close.
On these game drives, you see how much respect Entabeni has for the animals. While the rangers radio each other when they spot any of the Big Five, no more than two vehicles congregate in the same area. They also keep a good distance from the animals. When we spotted hippos swimming in the waters, we wanted to get closer but the rangers held our distance.
Ranger Andre Morgan said hippos "kill more people in Africa than any other animal." The reason? "People think they don’t attack, that they’re these cute, lovable animals. Hippo would be No. 6 if it were the Big Six."
It wasn’t only the game animals that the kids learned about. One morning, we drove up to the highlands of Entabeni where they conducted a "water audit" and collected insects – from tadpoles to whirligig beetles to diving beetles – and studied what kind of water they live in and what stage of development.
We also learned the differences between animals’ feces. On one bushwalk, we followed Zuzette’s group once more (and had a slight Blair Watch Project-experience of being lost but in daylight). She pointed out different piles of wastes and would urge us, "Break it, break it! C’mon, smell it!"
My first thought was: Is this woman mad? She wants me to break open shit and smell it?
But when in the bush, you do what they do. I’m glad I did – I gained important knowledge that might save my life one day. I now know how wildebeest and warthog feces look like. I know that a giraffe’s feces are the size of marbles and are always scattered on the ground because they fall from a tall animal.
And that they smell like grass.
One afternoon, while we were sitting in one of the girls’ tents and they were showing me the dresses they were going to wear for their presentations, Gayle, Tintin and Ash all wondered how it was possible that they didn’t even miss their cell phones (no texting for nine days, who would have thought that was possible?), TV, their friends, MP3 players and their parents.
"The things that used to irritate me now seem so petty," said Ashley. It wasn’t an uncommon sentiment.
Ash revealed that at night the girls couldn’t sleep until Tintin had slept, even though she belonged to another, much messier tent. "You can hear her voice and laughter up to here!" she said. They teased that Tin was also everybody’s alarm clock in the mornings.
I said, "How do you think I found you girls? I just followed her voice and got to the right tent."
That was one of the things I love about the three girls: they all have distinct personalities and got along swimmingly well. They all seem mature but are also teens at heart.
Tintin’s loud laughter and welcoming personality were so infectious, which was probably why the South African boy who declared on the first day that he hated all girls became her best friend. Ash, the youngest at 16, is a lot more girlie, a fashionista which may explain why her big luggage looked like she was going to New York rather than the African bush. She must have brought more jackets than the two other girls combined. Gayle, the introspective Cebuana, has a pretty smile, a quiet demeanor, and is also full of passion. During the debates, Gayle defended her group’s position so passionately that my roommate Ee Kee said, "You know, she could be a lawyer!"
That night, the kids did the traditional wedding ceremonies. The Pinays donned Maria Clara gowns with Gayle as the bride. The groom Neo was "borrowed" from South Africa’s team. They had brought black pants and barong tagalog, which he loved – but alas, Filipino trad wear is really not for cold weather! During the narrative, the girls explained that while our weddings are westernized, some customs remain, such as offering eggs to St. Claire and the pinning of money on the newlyweds’ clothes while they danced.
They even had a different set of gowns for the cultural presentations on our last night in Jo’burg, where they danced wasiwas and pandanggo sa ilaw. Unfortunately right before their number, a waiter accidentally kicked the glasses for pandanggo and the candles that we had stuck to the bottom became loose. One of the girls stomped her foot and said, "They have to be stuck to the glass!"
Right then, I understood why media people were around: To ease their tension. Somebody needed to tell these kids: Even if you make mistakes, it’s all right, because the point is to have fun.
That’s exactly what they did – even when a glass toppled from Gayle’s head and she caught it gracefully and with a smile.
Hanneke van der Merwe said thoughtfully when asked how the kids have evolved in the past 10 wilderness experience, "I don’t know if it’s a good thing. It’s almost like we’re all on one earth, world citizens instead of citizens of our countries. Before, just by looking at people, I could actually see from which countries they were coming. Their body language was different, the way they treated other people was different, but now they’re all the same. The first time, South African kids would talk about McDonald’s and some kids from Asia didn’t know what it was. Today, they tell each other their favorite food and it doesn’t matter where on earth they are coming from."
That was why the cooking of traditional dishes was so important. On Sunday morning, the Filipino girls and I cooked adobo, an old favorite according to Hanneke. But when kitchen boss Marietjie Lessing told me we had to cook vegetarian and halal versions, I nearly passed out. Vegetarian adobo? Well, we did it and the kids loved all three versions. The smell of garlic being sautéed was enough to lead the Ubungani officers to the galley and ask what was cooking. That became our group’s practice: When our kids would cook, the media person would remain in the camp to help them, and sometimes do the cooking herself if they had an important activity (like what happened during our turn!). We also corrected the wrong recipe files they had, which I guess got screwed up in several years of correspondence (the adobo recipe they had required 2 liters of vinegar!).
Even as each culture was showcased, there was another lesson to be learned: that skin color doesn’t matter, that beneath it all, everyone is the same. They showed this not through a lecture but through a mudfight. The kids were led to a small puddle of water in the camp and then a mudfight ensued. Pretty soon, they were all the same muddy color and you couldn’t tell one from the other.
"I really appreciate the value of the mudfight," said Tintin. "Whether you’re white, brown, black or whatever, we’re all the same."
"The typical barriers all disappear," said Gayle.
"Everyone is just like everybody else," said Ashley. "Nobody is better than anyone. Everyone is happy, smiling and at peace and, and cares about one another. Everyone respects and appreciates each other."
Even as they studied the natural world they live in, they were also made to realize that the world is not divided in black and white. The debate topic was this: A developer wants to build a casino on a game reserve. The poor people need the jobs, but what about the animals? The 52 kids were divided into seven groups: the developers, local tourism council, valley residents, future shop owners, poor neighboring communities, conservationists and the South African Tourism Association.
The arguments were impassioned, touching on the subjects of sustainable development, morality, crime, poverty and wealth. The five members of the council, after hearing all the arguments, decided: Yes, they would let the developers build. When Zuzette asked the kids their own opinions, about 80 percent of them actually opposed the casino. (I would have liked to know how the students voted per country – whether kids from poor countries voted differently from those in rich countries.)
That was when South African journalist Chris Meintjes stepped in and said that yes, actually, that had been done. The country’s famous Sun City had the casinos and part of the money from tourism went to building a national park right beside it – the Pilanesberg National Park. The land had no animals before and they restocked it with thousands of animals, including the Big Five.
Then there was the T-Game, where each group member had to answer the truth to questions such as: If you had the money, who would you give it to, to a conservation group or to one helping poor people? If a friend betrayed you, what would you do?
Activities like these were so crucial because kids were faced with tough moral questions, where there is no clear line between good and bad, right and wrong, where one’s principles don’t always provide clear answers. Pretty soon, these teens will go out into a world where the choices are almost always muddled, and their decisions will not always be right.
It wasn’t surprising that even when we were still in Africa, the kids were already talking about coming back and seeing their friends. A "pinkie promise," said Tintin, that in 10 years her group would come back.
Ashley, who confessed to not being "easily attached," said, "Africa has done something to me that I cannot explain. Unless you wake up in a mid-winter African morning, unless you struggle to get out of your five-layer sleeping bag, unless you can hardly feel your fingertips, you will never understand."
Tintin, who found herself enamored by the culture of South Africa, said, "I realized how big the world is, how there’s so much more to life than being a Filipino, that you have to learn things outside your country."
As for Gayle, it wasn’t just about meeting new friends or seeing a lion or giraffe, it was also about discovering herself. "It was like a whole new perspective on life just opened up before me."
South Africa taught them so much more in nine days than what they could learn in school in a year. And at the risk of sounding like a wildlife conservation ad, they learned that the earth’s resources are not infinite, that they could change themselves and the world, that there is a whole new universe outside of their countries, that the stars look brighter without pollution, that animals have their own roles in this world, that it is hard to say goodbye to new friends.
They also learned that Hanneke – surrogate mother in the wilderness, teacher and friend – was always right. Everybody cries at the end.