By Nellie Wang
Nellie Wang, of the Innovative Green Development Program.
BEIJING – For most of my life, I didn’t care much about our wildlife. Or, feel any need to preserve it.
Several years ago, I even travelled to a remote corner of northwest China, for a holiday at Qinghai Lake: our country’s largest salt-water lake and a serene spot often called “the heaven of birds.” Located near the borders of Tibet and Xinjiang, I was struck by the Qinghai’s emerald-green water – the source of three of our most-famous rivers: the Yellow River, the Yangtze, and the Mekong.
Although the surrounding grasslands are home to the endangered Tibetan Antelope, I wasn’t aware or concerned that they’ve long been poached for their dense but soft, wool-like fur.
However, all that began to change in the Summer of 2014, when a friend called me. Xinmin asked for help, to promote an ecological tour around the Qinghai, in support of a local NGO there, Nature University, which works to raise awareness and protect the area’s wildlife.
Gradually, I began to learn that besides the poaching of Tibetan antelope, many other rare species can be found there, including Przewalski’s gazelles, blue sheep and white-lipped deer. Meanwhile, economic development and increasing tourism had brought degradation of grasslands, garbage dumped around the lake, and rare birds and fish served in restaurants.
I was particularly moved by the story of a Qinghai shepherd who spends much of his own modest earnings to rebuild the environment around his home.
This activist described how he and fellow shepherds battled poachers, and he showed pictures of dying Przewalski’s gazelles who had tried to escape, but were trapped and killed by barbed wire.
On the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, a Tibetan antelope dashes across grassland. (Source: ChinaTibet.people.com.cn)
He himself has rescued some of these gazelles, and at his home, we saw his young son play with one he’d grown up with – affectionately, as if they were brothers.
At that moment, I suddenly realized: that’s the way that relations should be between wildlife and human beings. As someone who’d grown up in a big city, I’d missed the chance to have such a relationship with wildlife. But if I do nothing now, the next generation will miss out, too.
So, I didn’t hesitate to help Xinmin, and devote myself to her project.
Over the next three months, I was part of a group of nine volunteers, who through our network of like-minded friends and colleagues, organized a series of workshops in Beijing, Shenzhen and Zhuhai.
We spent a lot of time on all this, sometimes working until midnight. But we were so excited to share this information – and motivated by the feedback. We attracted more than 300 supporters and their children, raised awareness of the Qinghai wildlife – and encouraged donations to Nature University. We published reports and photos of the workshops on social-media, to spread the word across China.
Our group also began to collect and send donated supplies to shepherds on the frontlines of protecting the Qinghai wildlife. For example, they often camp out at night, then walk around the lake, searching for the fishing nets used by poachers. Summer is not such a problem. But during the winter, temperatures outside may drop to -40 Celsius. They need supplies to stay warm.
I took charge of fundraising activities: writing announcements, calling for volunteers, and requesting donation. My first time doing it, we actually attracted hundreds of packages. Eight volunteers spent one whole day to sort it all: outdoor clothes, sleeping bags, tents, even cameras.
However, after we’d shipped them to Qinghai, we were so happy to see the photos that the shepherds on the night-shift took of themselves, in the donated clothes and camp gear they’d received.
What further inspired me was a 10-day trip that Xinmin and I took together to Qinghai Lake: specifically to spend time with these local environmentalists, learn more intimately of their personal motivations, and the specific challenges they face.
When we arrived, they already knew who we were and the volunteer work we’d done so far – they treated us with great respect and appreciation.
That first night, at one shepherd’s home, they cooked for us “cordyceps sinensis” – a very rare and expensive mushroom soup. It was the first time I’d ever even seen the soup – and knew it showed how thankful they were for the support we’d provided them.
Another night, we stayed at the home of a second shepherd. It was -30 Celsius outside, but we sat with more than 10 shepherds around a roaring fire, drinking butter tea. The group leader told us stories of his youth, when Mongolian gazelle and Tibetan antelope ran freely, here and there, across the grassland – and no one ate the special fish from the lake.
It’s rare to see such lovely wildlife anymore, he said. That’s why he fights the poachers, and for two decades has invested so much time, effort and his own savings to support his organization’s mission.
His determination touched me – and gave me the strength to continue what I’m doing in the big cities, to support them.
Since then, I’ve also turned into a true environmentalist, not only supporting the shepherds of Qinghai Lake, but showing greater care with my daily actions in the city. For example, I take more public transportation more often – rather than driving – and at home, I sort garbage and recycle water.
I also began working full-time for the Innovative Green Development Program, as its Communications Manager. The iGDP mission is to address the challenges of “green” growth, by promoting robust policy and practical actions.
With my professional knowledge, skill and passion, I can personally contribute to the greener development of China. I’m ready to do it as a life-long career. Though I live thousands of kilometers from a place like Qinghai Lake, I still have a responsibility to help protect our environment – here and there.
(Edited by Michael J. Jordan)
The Chinese Champions of Environmental Protection 