Wild China (2008) s01e02 Episode Script

1
Beneath billowing clouds,
in China's far
south-western Yunnan Province,
lies a place of mystery and legend,
of mighty rivers and some
of the oldest jungles in the world.
Here, hidden valleys nurture
strange and unique creatures
and colourful tribal cultures.
Jungles are rarely found
this far north of the tropics.
So why do they thrive here?
And how has this rugged landscape
come to harbour the greatest
natural wealth in all China?
In the remote southwest corner of China
a celebration is about to take place.
Dai people collect water for the
most important festival of their year.
The Dai call themselves
the people of the water.
Yunnan's river valleys have been
their home for over 2,000 years.
By bringing the river water
to the temple,
they honour the two things
holiest to them,
Buddhism and their home.
The Dai give thanks
for the rivers and fertile lands
which have nurtured their culture.
Though to some,
it might seem just an excuse
for the biggest water fight of all time.
Dai lives are changing
as towns get bigger and modernise
but the Water Splashing Festival
is still celebrated by all.
The rivers which lie
at the heart of Dai life and culture
flow from
the distant mountains of Tibet,
southward through central Yunnan
in great parallel gorges.
The Dai now live in the borders
of tropical Vietnam and Laos
but their legends
tell of how their ancestors came here
by following the rivers from
mountain lands in the cold far north.
Lying at the far eastern end
of the Himalayas,
the Hengduan Mountains form
Yunnan's northern border with Tibet.
Kawakarpo, crown of the Hengduan range,
is a site of holy pilgrimage.
Yet its formidable peak
remains unconquered.
Yunnan's mountains are remote,
rugged and inaccessible.
Here the air is thin
and temperatures can drop
below minus 40 degrees.
This is home to an animal
that's found nowhere else on earth.
The Yunnan snub-nosed monkey.
It's found only in these
few isolated mountain forests.
No other primate
lives at such high altitudes,
but these are true specialists.
These ancient mountain dwellers
have inspired legends.
Local Lisu people
consider them their ancestors,
calling them
the wild men of the mountains.
During heavy snowfalls
even these specialists cannot feed.
It seems a strange place for a monkey.
Between snows, the monkeys waste no time
in their search for food.
At this altitude there are few fruits
or tender leaves to eat.
Ninety percent of their diet
is made up of the fine dry wisps
of a curious organism.
Half fungus, half plant, it's lichen.
How have monkeys,
normally associated with lowland jungle,
come to live
such a remote mountain existence?
This is not the only remarkable animal
found within these isolated high peaks.
A Chinese red panda.
Solitary and quiet, it spends
much of its time in the tree tops.
Despite its name,
the red panda is only a very
distant relative of the giant panda.
It is actually more closely related
to a skunk.
But it does share
the giant panda's taste for bamboo.
Southwest China's red pandas are known
for their very strong facial markings
which distinguish them from red pandas
found anywhere else in the Himalayas.
Like the monkeys,
they were isolated in these high forests
when the mountains
quite literally rose beneath them
in the greatest mountain-building event
in recent geological history.
Over the last 30 million years,
the Indian subcontinent has
been pushing northwards into Eurasia.
On the border between India and Tibet,
the rocks have been raised
eight kilometres above sea level
creating the world's highest
mountain range, the Himalayas.
But to the east
the rocks have buckled into a series
of steep north-south ridges,
cutting down through
the heart of Yunnan,
the parallel mountains
of the Hengduan Shan.
These natural barriers serve to isolate
Yunnan's plants and animals
in each adjacent valley.
While the huge temperature range
between the snowy peaks
and the warmer slopes below
provides a vast array of conditions
for life to thrive.
Through spring
the Hengduan slopes stage one
of China's greatest natural spectacles.
The forests here are among the most
diverse botanical areas in the world.
Over 18,000 plant species grow here
of which 3,000 are found nowhere else.
Until little more than a century ago,
this place was unknown outside China.
But then news reached the West
of a mysterious, hidden world
of the Orient.
Hidden among the mountains,
a lost Shangri-la paradise.
Western high society,
in the grip of a gardening craze,
was eager for exotic species
from faraway places.
This gave rise to a new breed
of celebrity adventurers,
intrepid botanist-explorers
known as the Plant Hunters.
Yunnan became their Holy Grail.
The most famous was Joseph Rock,
a real life Indiana Jones.
Remarkable film footage
captured his entourage
on a series of expeditions
as they pushed into
the deepest corners of Yunnan.
In glorious colour
he recorded the plant life he found
on special photographic glass plates.
Sending thousands of specimens
back to the West,
the Plant Hunters changed
the gardens of the world forever.
Rock's success was born
of a massive effort.
For to find his Shangri-la,
not only had he to traverse
endless mountain ranges,
but some of the deepest gorges
in the world.
The Nujiang is called the Angry River.
This 300-kilometre stretch
of raging rapids
is as much a barrier to life
as are the mountains above.
But the Plant Hunters
weren't the first people to travel here.
Along the Nujiang,
less than 30 rope crossings allow
locals passage across the torrents.
Tiny hamlets cling to the slopes.
This morning it's market day,
drawing people
from up and down the valley.
Hanging from simple rope slings,
people have been using the crossings
for many hundreds of years.
In such narrow precipitous gorges,
it's by far
the easiest way to get around.
Once across,
the steep sides mean it's still a hike.
Many trek for hours by foot
before they get to the market.
The immense valley is home
to over a dozen ethnic groups.
Some, like the Nu people,
are found only here.
The markets
bring the mountain tribes together.
To continue his expeditions,
Rock had to get his entire entourage
across the giant Yunnan rivers.
He commissioned especially thick ropes
made from forest rattan
and filmed the entire event.
With yak butter to smooth the ride,
40 men and 15 mules made the journey.
Not all made it across.
On the far side
of the great Nujiang gorge,
the Plant Hunters
made a remarkable discovery.
Far from the tropics,
they seemed to be entering
a steamy vibrant tropical jungle,
the forest of Gaoligongshan.
The flora here is unlike
anywhere else in the world.
Next to subtropical species,
alpine plants grow in giant form.
Crowning the canopy, rhododendrons,
up to 30 metres high.
In April and May
their flowers turn the forests ruby red,
attracting bird species found only here.
Constant moisture in the air
means that the branches
are laden with flowering epiphytes,
fiercely guarded by tiny sunbirds
unique to these valleys.
Nectar feeders,
these are the hummingbirds
of the Old World tropics.
The forests of Gaoligongshan are home
to some of China's rarest wildlife.
This is a female Temminck's Tragopan.
She has a colourful male admirer.
He's hoping to woo her
with his peculiar peek-a-boo display
but she's not about to be rushed.
His colourful skin wattle
reflects more light than feathers do.
To her, this is like a neon sign.
Seeing his chance,
the male makes his move.
Constant moisture
in the Gaoligongshan forests
means that throughout the year
there are always fruits on the trees.
Such abundance of food encourages
a high diversity of fruit eaters
more commonly found in the tropics.
The black giant squirrel
is found only in undisturbed rainforest.
At close to a metre in length,
it's one of
the world's largest squirrels.
The mystery is that these forests
are growing well outside the tropics.
By rights, none of this jungle,
or its animals, should be here.
These are bear macaques.
They are found only in tropical
and sub-tropical jungle.
With a tiny home range
of just a few square kilometres,
they depend on the abundant fruit
that only true rainforests
can provide all year round.
To the European Plant Hunters,
these northern rainforests
must have seemed
a fantastic and mysterious lost world.
Yet when they came here,
they would have found beautifully
constructed ancient stone pathways
on which the forest could be explored.
Winding westwards into the hills,
these were once some of the
most important highways in Asia,
the south-western tea and silk road.
Built thousands of years ago,
the south-western tea and silk road
gave access to the world
beyond China's borders,
carrying tradesmen and travellers
from as far away as Rome.
Wars were fought
over access to this tiny path,
the only sure route in or out of China
that was guaranteed
to be clear of snow all year round.
So what causes Gaoligongshan's
strange and remarkable climate?
In late May gusts of wind arrive,
bringing with them
the key to Gaoligongshan's mystery.
The winds are hot
and saturated with water.
They come all the way
from the Indian Ocean.
Channelled by Yunnan's unique geography,
they bring with them
the moisture of the tropical monsoon.
The giant river valleys,
created millions of years ago,
act like immense funnels.
The gorges are so deep and narrow
that the moist warm air is driven
right up into the north of Yunnan.
The result is rain, in torrents!
Four months of daily rainstorms
sustain luxuriant vegetation.
The arrival of the monsoon awakens
one of the forest's most extraordinary
moisture-loving inhabitants.
The crocodile newt
is one of the most unusual
of the many amphibian species
found here.
As the rains arrive,
they emerge to mate.
The newts are said to leave
an odour trail
that potential mates can follow.
The crocodile newt gets its name
from the bumps along its back.
These are its defence.
If grabbed by a potential predator,
the tips of its ribs
squeeze a deadly poison from the bumps.
The deluge wakes
another forest inhabitant.
This one is particularly astounding
in its vigour.
It can grow up to a metre a day,
fast overtaking
the other plants around it.
The taller it grows,
the faster its growth rate,
so that in a matter of days
it towers above the undergrowth
and continues reaching for the sky.
Not bad for what is essentially a grass.
It's bamboo.
Given the chance,
bamboo will create immense forests,
dominating entire areas.
Bamboo forests occur
across southwest China,
all the way to Shanghai.
But probably the highest diversity
of bamboos in the world
is found on the hills and valleys
of Yunnan.
Though incredibly strong,
bamboos have hollow stems,
a perfect shelter for any creatures
which can find a way in.
This entrance hole was made by a beetle,
but it's being used
by a very different animal.
A bamboo bat.
The size of a bumble bee,
it's one of the tiniest mammals
in the world.
The entire colony, up to 25 bats,
fits into a single section
of bamboo stem,
smaller than a tea cup.
It's quite a squeeze.
Half the colony are babies.
Though barely a week old,
they're already almost
as big as their mums.
Feeding such a fast-growing brood
is hard work.
The mums leave to hunt
just after dusk each night.
Back in the roost
the young are left on their own.
Special pads on their wings
help them to grip on the bamboo walls,
most of the time.
The young bats use the extra space
to prepare for a life on the wing
by preening and stretching.
Packed in like sardines,
they would make an easy target
for a snake.
But the snake
has no chance of getting in.
The entrance is thinner
than the width of a pencil.
When the mothers return,
they can push through
the narrow entrance
only because of
their unusually flattened skulls.
But it's still a squeeze.
Bamboos are exploited
in a very different way
by another forest dweller.
Fresh bamboo shoots
are an important forest crop.
Ai Lao Xiang is of the Hani tribe,
from the mountain village of Mengsong.
Roasted, the tender shoots he gathers
will make a tasty dish.
The Hani have many uses
for the different bamboos
they grow and find in the forest around.
Though flexible enough to be woven,
bamboo has a higher tensile strength
than steel.
Succulent when young,
in maturity it's tough and durable,
ideal for making a table,
and strong enough
for a pipe to last a lifetime.
The people of southwest China have found
an extraordinary number of ways
to exploit
this most versatile of plants.
Part of bamboo's phenomenal success
is that it's so tough
that few animals can tackle it.
Yet bamboo does come under attack.
A bamboo rat.
Feeding almost exclusively on bamboo,
they live their entire lives
in tunnels beneath the forest.
The thinner species of bamboo
are easier to attack and pull below.
She has a fantastic sense of smell
and can sniff out the fresh growth
through the soil.
Bamboo spreads along underground stems.
By following these,
new shoots are found.
Once a shoot is detected,
she snips it free
and drags it down into her burrow.
This female has a family.
At just a few weeks old,
the youngsters can already tackle
the hardest bamboo stems
and are eager to try.
Bamboo's tough reputation is such
that another bamboo specialist
was known by the Chinese
as the iron eating animal.
The giant panda
is famous for its exclusive diet.
Giant pandas are thought to have
originated in southwest China
millions of years ago,
but they're no longer found in Yunnan.
Recently, their specialised diet
has had dire consequences.
Bamboo has a bizarre life cycle.
Flowering infrequently,
sometimes only once
every hundred years or so.
But when flowering does occur,
it's on a massive scale,
and is followed by the death
of all of the plants.
Sometimes an entire bamboo forest
may die.
In undisturbed habitat,
pandas simply move to another area
where a different bamboo species grows.
But as human activity
has fragmented their forest home,
pandas find it increasingly hard to find
large enough areas in which to survive.
Wild pandas are now found
only in the forests of central China,
far to the east.
But in the hidden pockets
of lowland jungle
in Yunnan's tropical south,
live one of China's
best-kept wildlife secrets.
The wild Asian elephant.
Elephants once roamed across China
as far north as Beijing.
But it's only in the hidden valleys
of Yunnan that they have survived.
Elephants are the architects
of the forest.
Bamboos and grasses
are their favourite food,
but saplings, tree leaves
and twisted lianas
are all taken, with little care.
As they move through the forest,
the elephants open up clearings,
bringing light to the forest floor.
This has a major impact on their home.
The richest forests
are now known to be those
which, from time to time,
experience change.
The Jino people are incredibly
knowledgeable about their forests
and claim to have uses for
most of the plants that they find there.
They have names for them all,
those good for eating
and some which even have
strong medicinal qualities.
By working here,
the Jino play a similar role
to the elephants,
opening up the forest,
bringing space, light and diversity.
Green fast-growing species
are encouraged.
Insects are in high abundance here,
together with the animals
that feed on them.
Knowledge of the forest
enables the Jino to find not just plants
but other tasty forest food too.
Forest crabs are common here,
feeding on the abundant leaf litter.
This will be a tasty addition
to the evening meal.
Flowing through
Yunnan's southern valleys,
the once angry rivers are now swollen,
their waters slow and warm.
These fertile lowland valleys
are the home of the Dai.
The people of the water
live along streams
which originate
in the surrounding hills.
Each family keeps a kitchen garden,
modelled on the multi-layered structure
of the surrounding forests,
which the Dai hold sacred.
The gardens are made more productive
by interplanting different crops.
Tall sun-loving species give shelter
to plants which thrive in the shade.
As companions, the plants grow better.
Yunnan's forests are home to
more than a dozen wild banana species
and banana crops grow well
in most Dai gardens.
The huge banana flowers
are rich in nectar
for only two hours a day,
but it's enough
to attract a range of forest insects,
including hornets.
With their razor sharp mandibles,
they find it easy to rob the flowers
of their nectar.
But hornets are predators, too.
They hunt other insects
and carry them back to their nest.
An ideal target.
But this grasshopper is no easy meal.
There may be a price to pay.
The Dai men, Po and Xue Ming,
take advantage of a hunter's instincts.
A hornet sting is agony,
but for now it's distracted,
intent on cutting away
a piece of grasshopper
small enough to carry back home.
Success!
The white feather
hardly slows the hornet,
and more importantly, it can be seen.
Now the hunter is the hunted.
So long as Po and Xue Ming can keep up.
Back at the nest,
the other hornets immediately begin
to cut the feather free.
But it's too late,
the nest's location has been betrayed.
The relationship
between the forest animals
and the people who live here
was never one of harmony.
Yet the fact that the Dai
and other ethnic groups
considered these forests to be sacred,
has ensured their survival,
and now many have been given
extra protection as nature reserves.
Ingenuity and hard work
pays off at last.
The fattened larvae
are considered a delicacy by the Dai.
Although these forests
have experienced a great deal of change,
they are still host to some
ancient and incredible relationships.
Almost 60 centimetres high,
this is the immense flower
of the elephant yam.
Locals call it the witch of the forest.
As the stars rise,
the witch begins to cast her spell.
The forest temperature drops,
but the flower starts to heat up.
A heat sensitive camera
reveals the flower's temperature rising
by an incredible 10 degrees Celsius.
At the same time, a noxious stench
of rotting flesh fills the forest air.
As the flower's heat increases,
a cloud of odour rises up.
The foul perfume carries far and wide.
It doesn't go unnoticed,
carrion beetles arrive on the scene.
The beetles come in search
of a feast of warm decaying flesh,
but they've been tricked.
Slippery sides ensure they tumble
straight into the centre
of the monster flower.
There's not enough room
to spread their wings
and the waxy walls ensure
that there's no escape.
But there's nothing sinister
in the flower's agenda.
The beetles will be
its unwitting helpers.
Dawn arrives,
but the flower remains unchanged,
holding its captives through the day.
As the second night falls,
the witch stirs again.
In a matter of minutes,
the flower's precious golden pollen
squeezes from the stamens
and begins to fall,
showering onto
the captive beetles below.
Now at last
the prisoners are free to go.
The flower's wall changes texture,
becoming rough
to provide the ideal escape ladder.
Loaded with their pollen parcels,
they can now climb to freedom,
just as other forest witches
are beginning to open.
Seduced by the irresistible perfume,
the beetles are sure to pay a visit,
so ensuring pollination
and another generation
of incredibly big, smelly flowers.
As dawn arrives,
forest birds claim their territories
in the canopy.
But there's one call
which stands out among the rest,
virtuoso of the forest symphony.
It's a gibbon.
Living on a remote mountain range
in south-central Yunnan
is one of the few remaining
wild gibbon populations in China,
the black crested gibbons
of Wuliangshan.
They are confined
to these forest mountains,
so remote and steep
that few hunters ever come here.
The Wuliangshan gibbons
are unusual for their social structure.
Most gibbons live in small family groups
consisting of a mating pair
and their offspring.
But these gibbons exist in troops.
One male can have two
or sometimes three females
and all of these can have young.
Often, even the juveniles
stay in the community.
Rarely glimpsed,
this baby may be only a day old.
If it survives infancy,
then it has a promising future
in these few valleys
with its close-knit family.
Gibbon song once inspired
the ancient poets of China,
their glorious calls
echoing far across the hills.
But now, new, strangely quiet forests
have come to Yunnan.
These trees are here to produce
an important and valuable crop.
When the tree bark is scored,
it yields copious sticky sap
so bitter and tacky
that nothing can feed on it.
It's the tree's natural defence
against attack.
It's collected daily, bowl by bowl.
It will be boiled and processed
into one of the most important materials
to a fast developing nation, rubber.
The expansion of the rubber forests
began in the '50s when China,
under a world rubber embargo,
had to become self-sufficient
in this vital product.
Beijing turned to the only place
where rubber could grow,
the tropical south of Yunnan.
With efficiency and speed,
some of the world's richest forests
were torn up and burned,
replaced with mile upon mile
of rubber plantation.
But there was a problem
for the rubber-growers.
While Yunnan's unique natural forests
can survive on the valley slopes
which stretch to the north,
just one severe frost will kill off
these delicate rubber trees.
So Yunnan's terrain puts a limit
on how far the plantations can spread,
halting at least
their northwards advance.
The jungles of Yunnan
are increasingly under pressure.
New roads criss-cross
the tiny remnant forests,
the infrastructure needed for trade,
industry and increasingly, tourism.
It's a meeting
of two very different worlds.
That elephants still exist in China
is remarkable
considering the immense pressures in the
world's most highly-populated country.
The 250 or so wild elephants
which still live here
are now strictly protected.
And each year
young are born to the small herds.
If elephants were to survive
anywhere in China,
it could only have been here in Yunnan.
The same mountains
which guide the monsoon rains north,
and which made Joseph Rock's journey
so treacherous,
also guarded Yunnan's forests
and its wildlife.
For the moment, the mountains
are still carpeted in a rich green,
deceptive in its simplicity.
Below the canopy lies perhaps
China's richest natural treasure.
Delicate and unique,
a complex world
of intricate relationships
between animals, plants and people
beneath the clouds.