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VOL. 12.5
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A Week Without Walls
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Behind the DMC
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Island Racing – Yachties Just Wanna Have Fun
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Pizza Pizzazz
Those Magnificent Flying
Machines
Epat Diary:
Topless in Phuket
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ARCHIVES:
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A Week Without Walls
By Thom Henley
Shrieks of terror and sheer delight
fill the black void of Namtaloo Cave, deep in the Khao Sok National Park
rain forest, as 22 teenagers from Thailand’s most prestigious international
school navigate their way through the 500m passage. For the first time in
their lives, for many of them, they are being totally immersed in their
study – cave ecology – learning from first-hand observation and
all-too-intimate encounters with a myriad of cave dwellers.
The nutrient economy of the cave is explained to the students as they
stand in heel-deep bat guano. “Insectivorous bats hunting throughout the
night release their droppings in these cave chambers,” the instructor
begins. “This rich but rank-smelling nitrogen base serves as fodder for
fungus growth. Huge cave crickets with absurdly long antennae graze on the
fungus like deer in a meadow, but their predators – cave hunter and scorpion
spiders – stalk them in the total dark like tigers in the night.”
A Japanese girl, struggling to overcome her arachnophobia, gasps, then holds
her breath as the instructor’s torch illuminates one giant spider after
another. Overhead, stripe-tailed cave-racers climb sheer limestone walls in
search of slumbering bats to constrict and swallow. The instructor points
out that another constrictor – the world’s longest snake – is also known to
frequent cave recesses to rest while digesting particularly large meals such
as a deer or wild boar.
With vivid images of slumbering pythons and other creepy creatures fresh in
their fertile minds, the teenagers now find themselves embarking on a
real-life Indiana Jones adventure. They must negotiate the river, which
carved out this cave passage millions of years ago, working their way past
plunging waterfalls, huge flow formations, and deep, cold pools of water. It
takes nearly an hour before anyone can see light at the end of the twisting
tunnel, and by that time all 22 students have eyes as wide as elephant
tracks.
“Wow! I never thought my parents or my school would ever let me do something
dangerous,” one exhilarated student exclaims as she plops herself down,
sopping wet, on the forest floor near the cave exit. The rainforest now
seems as welcome to her as the living room of her opulent family home. The
pampered 16-year-old spots a leech inching its way towards her like a
sinister slinky toy; she shrieks, then laughs at her own squeamishness.
“Let’s go!” she shouts out happily to her classmates. “Which way?” she asks
her guide excitedly, ready for more adventure.
The cave passage isn’t really dangerous at all, nor are the leeches, but for
a generation of youth who have only known virtual adventure from TV, movies
and video games, the experience is the thrill of a lifetime. Real-life
adventures, combining the spark of danger with the challenge of overcoming
personal fears, are important in young people’s development; lessons learned
from such experiences are never to be forgotten.
There’s an ancient but timelessly true adage: “I hear and I forget; I see
and I remember; I do and I understand.” Contemporary research in human
retention abilities lends considerable credence to this age-old saying.
Studies confirm that after one month people remember 14 percent of what they
heard, 22 percent of what they saw, but 83 percent of what they heard, saw
and converted into action. Given such revealing statistics, it is a wonder
that formal education depends so much on the spoken and written word and so
little on actual experience.
This is not the case with Rediscovery. More than two decades ago a programme
founded on indigenous teachings and outdoor experiential learning began on
the remote shores of Haida Gwaii, an archipelago on Canada’s Pacific coast.
Designed to help youth of all ages discover the world within themselves, the
cultural worlds between peoples, and the wonders of the natural world,
Rediscovery soon became a model for similar programmes throughout Canada,
the USA, Europe and Asia. Pai Tio Rediscovery has been working with Thai and
international youth in the south of Thailand for nearly 10 years. Students
from Canada, Hong Kong, Dubai, Japan, USA and India have joined together
with Thai youth on a number of rich cross-cultural and environmental
learning adventures.
The International School Bangkok (ISB) has also long recognized the need to
expand education outside the halls of academia and has developed a “Week
Without Walls” programme of its own. Each year ISB students spread out
across the planet to ski in the Alps, tour art museums in Paris, climb in
the Himalayas and Andes, or cruise the Andaman Sea. This year, 22 students
from grades 9-12, accompanied by two teacher-chaperones, teamed up with Pai
Tio Rediscovery for a unique “Reefs to Rainforests” environmental education
tour of southern Thailand’s seven major ecosystems. The eight-day programme
took the students to six protected areas in four provinces to gain
first-hand knowledge of tropical evergreen forests, lowland rain forests,
mangrove forests, karst and caves, fresh-water wetlands, intertidal zones
and coral reefs. Some of these sites are known to tourists, others have yet
to be discovered by Thailand’s growing eco-tourism industry. Still, it seems
remarkable that, with such diversity at its doorstep, more school programmes
aren’t taking advantage of the region’s world-class natural classrooms.
On Saturday, 17 February, the Bangkok students flew to Surat Thani, received
a “Reefs to Rainforests” guide as a textbook, and within two hours found
themselves face to face with wild gibbons, langurs, macaques and hornbills
in the centre of the largest protected area on the Thai peninsula – Khao Sok
National Park. As the chugging engines of the three longtail boats slowly
cruised the towering karst shoreline of Cheow Lan Reservoir, all eyes were
alert for animals.
“Why do the macaque monkeys let us get close in our boats, but the gibbons
and langurs drop from the trees to hide?” one keenly observant student asked
the instructor.
The answer was as pragmatic as it was sad: “Macaques don’t taste good.
Langurs are popular in curry dishes and gibbon mothers are shot to get their
babies for the pet trade, so both of these primates defy their age-old
instincts and descend from the treetops to get out of the line of fire.”
“But I thought this was a park,” the student protested.
“It is,” her guide replied. “But poaching is rampant, and it may end up the
responsibility of your generation to change that.”
Conservation lessons took many forms and all of them were experiential. To
bring home the lesson of the interconnectedness of all living things,
students were asked to sit in a circle one morning while photo name cards
were handed out representing some of the many animals, plants and insects
found at Khao Sok. Kite string was used to connect the students’ hands,
symbolizing the dependency each species has on others. Soon a very large and
interconnected “web of life” emerged. To illustrate the 25 percent
biodiversity loss that scientists predict will occur in our lifetime, every
student’s hand was given a number (one to four); then, on cue, each person
with a hand numbered one was instructed to let go of the string. The visual
impact of the great web of life collapsing had a profound affect on
everyone.
So as not to end the exercise on a pessimistic note, students were reminded
that this is what is predicted to happen, but hasn’t happened yet, and must
not happen. As a personal empowerment exercise, they were then asked to go
off alone somewhere to write down confidentially something they would do in
their life to ensure that this tragic projection never actually occurs. This
promise to themselves was sealed with their fingerprint stamped from an ink
pad – “a mark as unique as every species on our planet,” they were told.
Lessons were rarely so formal or serious. Rediscovery games like
Bear/Bug/Frog, Echo Location, and Don’t Bungle the Jungle more often had the
youths reeling with laughter. Sometimes something as simple as seeing the
brilliance of stars in the night sky while on night safari by boat, or
waking up to clean air, the song of birds and taking a morning plunge in the
fresh lake waters, held the Bangkok-based youth more enchanted than any
activity a facilitator could devise. The utter simplicity of sleeping
overnight on a bamboo raft house and negotiating the wobbly walkway that led
to the outhouse on shore were other novelties that delighted the urban
youth. Personal discoveries happened all the time, and often when least
expected.
“One thing about Thom and his staff is that they don’t help you more than
you need,” one grade-12 student wrote following her trip. “At first I got a
little angry because somebody wasn’t always there to help me. But as I got
through the hikes and caves and river crossings and everything, I came to
realize that I could do most of these things by myself. I’ve learned that I
can be strong when I need to. I learned that I am more capable of things
than I thought.”
Some students became keen spotters of wildlife and wildlife signs. Together
the group recorded 13 of Khao Sok’s 48 mammal species and 14 of its 184
confirmed bird species. At Thale Noi Waterfowl Park, they spotted 28 of the
wetlands 187 water-bird species. “I liked the way we learned about
relationships, not just the names of things,” said one student. “The hidden
messages in the tracks were as fascinating for me as seeing the animal
itself – the huge prints of the wild elephants, the deep diggings of the
Asiatic black bear and the shallow rootings of the wild pigs in search of
grubs and burrowing crabs. These were lessons for me I would never have
learned in a classroom.”
The eight-day programme offered the youth a whirlwind of non-stop
activities: boating through Thailand’s largest display of water lilies at
dawn while thousands of waterbirds took wing; hiking up a forested
mountainside to bathe in the cold pool of one of the South’s most
spectacular waterfalls; swimming through an emerald cave to a hidden Garden
of Eden in the middle of a karst-walled island; snorkelling over some of the
Andaman Sea’s most brilliant coral reefs; enjoying mock combat battles in an
artesian forest-fed pool set like a gem in Thailand’s last lowland forest;
sea canoeing through intricate mangrove channels and karst-walled canyons;
and probing the secret recesses for life in the rich intertidal zones.
The Reefs to Rainforests – Week Without Walls came to an end much too soon
for many, but just in time for others. “Don’t you people ever think about my
hair?” one jungled-out teen wrote on her evaluation. “Don’t you know that
hot water is important for a girl's hair?” The night before everyone
returned to the comforts of home – hot water, TV, stereos ... and the
security of classroom walls – a final celebration was held at Krabi’s Dawn
of Happiness Beach Resort. Dozens of colourful rice-paper candle lanterns
glowed the length of the beach as a seafood buffet was set out under the
stars. There was music and fire-show dancers, Thai boxers and the launch of
a traditional hot-air balloon to mark the occasion. Each student was
presented with a programme T-shirt, an embroidered patch for their pack, and
a diploma as they were called upon one by one to be acknowledged for their
accomplishments. Many had words of deep appreciation to share that night,
others presented them in written form as they departed the following
morning.
Clearly, it wasn’t only students who benefited. One of the
teacher-chaperones had this to say: “Reefs to Rainforests is a programme
that everyone should experience at least once in their life. Re-kindling a
feeling of being close to nature from the days of my youth was a rare
pleasure for me –a happiness returned that I thought I had lost forever.”
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