From Exploration to Conservation--Wong How Man

This discovery not only ignited controversy in the geography world, it also overturned a discovery Wong himself made 20 years previous. At that time, he led a National Geographic team up the Yangtze to a spring called Ria Sha Neng by the Tibetans. This time, his exploration again led to a breakthrough-finding a new spring called Duo Zao Neng. This earned him a place on Time Magazine's 2002 list of "Asian Heroes."

As an explorer who often breaks new paths, Wong's motto is "I serve by leading." However, he's not just out for adventure or excitement. In the face of the rapid depletion of natural and cultural resources in mainland China's hinterlands, his true purpose is to record the things he encounters, to preserve them and ensure they can be developed in a sustainable manner.

In early March, Wong How Man, who has been called "China's greatest modern explorer," was invited to Taiwan to speak at the Lung Ying-tai Foundation. Wong's multimedia presentation gave the audience a rare public glimpse of the difficult journey of exploration.

Cultural adventurer

On the vast plains of the Tibetan Plateau, in order to confirm the source of the Yangtze River, Wong and a team of explorers from around the world set out equipped with the latest satellite imagery and high-tech tools. Though it was noon on a summer day, it was freezing on the plateau. Occasional strong winds and hail contrasted with extreme ultraviolet rays that could burn the skin. Amid fire and ice, the team experienced for themselves the saying that on the plateau, "There are four seasons in a day, and ten miles away is another world." The condition of the road was another problem. Where mud and gravel prevented motor vehicle traffic, the team had to rely on yaks, horses, and even their own two feet to get through.

In the documentary footage, Wong not only displays the brave face of an adventurer, he is also seen absorbing the culture around him.

For example, in order to preserve the cliffside hanging coffins of the Bo people of southwestern China, he and his team members dangled themselves from the face of the Lion Cliffs of Matangba, Sichuan, and replaced pieces of rotted wood in coffins one by one so as to keep them from falling. To honor this paradoxical people, who were said to "wear a single layer of clothing in the winter and thick cotton in the summer," he even decided to be buried in this way-"between heaven and hell"-when he dies.

For 14 years, Wong has funded efforts to bring the nearly extinct black-necked crane back to the Napa Lake Nature Reserve in Yunnan's Shangri-la (formerly known as Zhongdian) County to breed. He has offered the locals subsidies for not hunting the birds and mobilized local students to educate villagers about conservation. When his efforts to protect beavers in a reserve in Xinjiang ran afoul of the reserve's authorities, Wong didn't give up. He turned to assisting the local beaver researchers, and after one year had created a working relationship with them. Then his organization could begin its own conservation work.

A journey of chance

"Being an explorer wasn't actually my boyhood dream. All the way through college I nearly failed geography and history," said the silver-haired, distinguished-looking Wong as he described his childhood in fluent English. He was born an only child in Hong Kong. As a student at Wah Yan College Kowloon, a conservative Catholic secondary school, he often got into trouble and was a constant source of headaches for his father, who was a teacher there.

Wong attended the University of Wisconsin, where he studied journalism and art. This is when his life began to turn. He learned to conduct interviews, and as a Chinese, he was sent to China to report on cultural topics such as historical structures and Chinese gardens. With his artistic sensibilities, he was able to make a side career for himself as a self-taught photographer.

While on assignment covering the history of the Mongolian yurt and the nomadic way of life in Inner Mongolia for Architectural Digest, he became fascinated by the uniqueness of minority cultures in mainland China and realized how unknown they were to outsiders. "In those times, American libraries would only have a few old books about exploration in Chinese border regions that were full of exoticized exaggerations and misinterpretations. They showed an obvious disconnect with the reality of minority lifestyles," he says.

Wong traveled the world on assignments for magazines, but he always desired to explore his motherland. This wish came true in 1974 when he was hired by National Geographic.

Pioneering Chinese exploration

A journalist, photographer, and explorer, he was called "How Man Polo" by his editor. He was also the first Chinese explorer to be hired by National Geographic in 50 years. He's led six expeditions in China, including the first tracking of the source of the Yangtze in 1985. His work has been nominated for the Overseas Press Club Award of America, and he has reported or participated in creating documentaries for CNN, ABC, and the Discovery Channel.

The more he traveled to China, the closer he felt to the country, and he wanted to do something for it. After doing some soul searching, he quit his job in 1986 and started the China Exploration and Research Society (CERS) in the hopes that more Chinese would participate in exploration. After eight years, he returned to his native Hong Kong and, based there, continued his work exploring China's frontiers and protecting their environment and cultures.

CERS currently has around 20 members and leads more than ten projects every year, including protecting such species as the golden monkey, the black-necked crane, the Tibetan antelope, and the beaver; preserving and researching historical sites such as the hanging coffins and Tibetan temples; and even complex operations like tracking poachers and exploring holy mountains. The work has brought them through most of Western China, as well as bordering areas in Russia, India, Nepal, Laos, and Vietnam.

Though the team isn't big, it works quickly and naturally. Wong loves to talk about its work helping the Tibetan people in Yunnan rediscover the value of the yak.

Value from yaks

"The Tibetans are a nomadic people, and their most important assets are their yaks. However, even if they get all the use out of them that they can, they are still very poor," Wong says. He explains that Tibetans use yaks for transport, yak droppings for fuel, yak milk to make cheese and butter, and yak wool for tents and insulated ponchos. When yaks die, they use them for meat, as well. But these uses are all traditionally self-supporting and have not been developed into modern economic value.

CERS found that the wool from yaks under one year old was very soft and could be used as cashmere, yet, unaware of its potential value, nomads were selling it to local merchants for just RMB50 (around NT$230) a kilogram. The merchants would turn around and sell it to textiles merchants for triple the price. CERS purchased the fur from the nomads for eight times the original price, found a manufacturer to make scarves with it, and then marketed the products in Europe and America. The scarves, which were priced at HK$2,000 (around NT$8,000), were made from just 200 grams of wool each.

That's not all the value to be derived from yaks.

"Yak milk has a strong smell, but it is high quality and very creamy," says Wong, explaining that its fat content is especially high. It can be made into butter, and if it could be made into a cheese that suits consumers' tastes, they would have a premium product. Wong says, "Top cheeses are like top wines-they're the favorites of gourmands the whole world over!" So Wong specially brought in a cheese expert from his alma mater, the University of Wisconsin, who spent three years finding a method to take the odor out and creating a cheese with a unique flavor. Wong taught the method to the nomads, greatly increasing the value of yaks.

"We were responsible for developing a new mode of use. We hand over the marketing, management, and the rest of it to the local governments or private businesses," he says. Tibetans taking part in the project saw their living conditions improve. They don't have to raise so many yaks, and since the children don't have to help out, they can go back to school and study.

Plight of the Tibetan antelope

His experience working in the industry has made Wong aware of the power of the media. Ten years ago, CERS discovered the secret breeding grounds of the Tibetan antelope in the Altun mountain range in Xinjiang. However, they by chance came across the carcasses of hundreds of antelopes, including pregnant mothers and their fully formed fetuses, cruelly slaughtered and skinned by poachers. "To get the fur for a US$5-10,000 shawl, these poachers are willing to indiscriminately kill these precious animals. It's really barbaric!"

Seeking justice, Wong recorded images of the scene through photos and film and distributed them in order to raise global awareness of the plight of the Tibetan antelope. "Women with the means to purchase expensive furs are mostly highly educated and have a high position in society. Seeing these images might make them think twice, and pressure them to make a change in order to protect their own images," he says. In the future, only a reduction in the demand for fur, resulting from public opinion, will solve the problem of poaching of the Tibetan antelope.

"Most people wait until after a problem arises to think about how to solve it," he says, "but it takes too many resources to try to make up for something after the fact." Wong believes that as an explorer, he is in the best position to discover problems earlier than they would otherwise be discovered.

He gives an example. Twenty-six years ago, driving across a plateau in western Sichuan, he saw Tibetan mastiffs for the first time, chasing after his vehicle. But when he saw them again six years ago, he was shocked to see that this ancient breed that Marco Polo said was "tall as a donkey with a voice as powerful a lion's" had become smaller and had a pitiful, low bark. They had even lost the will to chase vehicles. Wong could see that the mastiff was in jeopardy.

Who shrank the mastiffs?

It seems that a media frenzy had turned the smart, fierce, and loyal purebred mastiffs into the ideal "security system" for the rich, and puppies were being sold for as much as US$6,000. To make a profit, dog breeders would often breed mastiffs from different areas of Tibet or even with ordinary domestic dogs and sell the offspring. Because of this, the purebred mastiff was facing extinction.

To protect the Tibetan mastiff, Wong and CERS spent two years searching one of the most remote corners of Tibet, a 6,000-square-kilometer area with an elevation over 4,000 meters above sea level, and found ten purebreds. They created a breeding center in Gujiu Village in Yunnan's Deqen County. "In the future, we will give purebred Tibetan mastiffs to every Tibetan household," Wong says.

The threat to Tibetan mastiffs wasn't due only to commercial breeding. In actuality, it was representative of the erosion of the ecology and in traditional ways of life. After all, in a time when the wolves, snow leopards, and brown bears of the plateau have all disappeared without a trace, how could the giant mastiffs even have a chance?

It's not only wild animals that are falling on hard times due to changing ways of life-people are as well.

For example, the Lisu people were once known as the greatest forest hunters of the southwest. However, China put forth measures to protect the environment, especially the golden monkey, and banned hunting in their area. All guns were confiscated and tree felling was banned. This led to a decline in hunting culture and minority identity. Young Lisu now work as bag carriers for tourists. Wong uses the phrase "a win for the environment, a loss for culture" to describe this sort of situation that often falls upon hunters and nomads.

"The good news about environmental protection work all comes at the expense of culture, tradition, and society," Wong says. In order to create a balance, he says they hope to help provide training for the young Lisu, teaching these talented trackers about the golden monkey and other wild animals. That way, they can be involved in the environmental protection and research work rather than be passive bystanders or even victims of it. Wong has also fought for permission for Lisu people to hunt within a buffer zone and for the Lisu to be able to raise the animals and exhibit them for tourists who are not physically fit enough to go into the forest.

Joy and creativity

"Even though it may be protection or preservation, we still come at it from the perspective of the market. After all, the ultimate goal of 'protection' isn't to close off or isolate but to use resources in a sensible, sustainable way with an eye to the future," he says. This attitude might be in conflict with that of pure animal lovers, but it is more practical and comprehensive in scope.

Wong's perseverance and CERS' accomplishments have led to proud sponsorships from world-renowned corporations such as Shell, Coca-Cola, IBM, Kodak, UBS, and Land Rover. He is also frequently invited by known figures from various fields to give lectures and spread his ideals.

Faced with the urgent, complex work that is natural and cultural preservation, Wong's maxim is, "Be serious about work, but put joy and creativity into it."

For example, Tibetans and Hindus often make pilgrimages to the sacred Mt. Kailash. The high altitude and the long journey of more than 50 kilometers have caused many old and infirm people, women, and children to fall ill and die of exhaustion.

In order to solve this problem, five years ago CERS renovated a suspension bridge on Meili Snow Mountain that had been in use for over 20 years by replacing the cables and wooden deck planking. At the head of the bridge they installed a teahouse and a medical station for which they hired Tibetan doctors who could treat pilgrims. In just six months, they had treated more than 4,600 people. The organization also took advantage of the rest stop as a location to interview elderly travelers in order to collect information. Experts in folk customs, archeology, religion, and science also visit from time to time. Thus the rest stop serves a variety of purposes.

Let conservation take root

"An explorer and conservationist can't operate on just passion alone," says Wong. "He also needs to know how to work according to scientific analysis. If he doesn't know how, he's got to learn." For example, cultural and natural landmarks such as the Potala in Lhasa and the Jiuzhaigou nature reserve in Sichuan see more than 20,000 visitors a day in the high season, but locals can't get in to see them because the expensive tickets have all been snapped up by tourist groups.

"If the locals can't even get in, then they will stop caring about these places in the future," he says, so Wong advocates setting aside a time during the low season for tourism or during off-hours when people who won't pay the high price of admission can have a chance to appreciate the beauty of world heritage. Then they will naturally come to care about the land.

Over his career of 30-plus years, most of Wong's activity has been centered around China's west.

"I often compare China to a yin-and-yang symbol," he says. "The eastern half is white with a spot of black, and the west is black with a spot of white. The white represents the concrete jungle and the black is the real jungle." He believes that not only is the west of China the country's backyard, it is also a cultural point of origin for all of Asia and is in need of people's care.

However, though many environmental conservationists worried that the Qinghai-Tibet railway's opening in 2006 would bring unprecedented catastrophe to the snowy environment and many Taiwanese conservationists oppose the proposed Suao-Hualien Freeway, Wong approves.

"The day will come sooner or later," he says. "Development and environmental conservation aren't two extremes that cannot make compromises." He believes that the railway will cause damage to the environment, but as long as the benefits of the tourism and freight transportation it brings are greater, it is worth supporting.

"When the levels of people's living conditions and education are raised, that will effectively protect the environment," he says. When that happens, conservation will no longer be something done only by "outside experts" but rather something that comes from the heart and the local community. This is the sort of blossoming conservation that will be truly treasured.