Ol Pejeta, Inevitable
Acacia Journey
Harbin No. 3 High School 2012 Grade 1 Class Fu Xiao
Photos taken by HowToTrip Youth Scientific Expedition Team
2013-02-08, the day of parting. It came more unexpectedly than a rainstorm on the African savanna.Time breathed gently in the crevices, yet led us onto a runway with no stations, using light edged with sharpness, forcing us to run, to conform to something called growing up.
At this moment, on the plane. I peer, grope, and search through the faults of memory, trying to find those images whose edges have long blurred, attempting to overlap and piece them together. Memories are beautiful.
I’ve thought about that savanna countless times. It's not a journey. Every journey ends, but we go on. The world turns and we turn with it. Plans disappear, dreams take over, but wherever I go, there you are: my luck; my fate; my fortune. Ol Pejeta, inevitable.
◇FIRST DAY IN OL PEJETA
On the second day in Africa, we got up early. Looking up from the balcony, all I saw was pure blue, which put me in a great mood.
We set off for the reserve after ten. Once on the vehicle, I started writing the travel diary but ended up sleeping, swaying as if I’d slept for two hours. Each time I woke up, it felt like entering another world—sometimes it was low rice paddies, sometimes tropical plantations, the scenery kept changing until I was jolted awake by music outside. I thought I was dreaming: pure black people, colorful shabby houses, lively and unrestrained music—everything screamed Africa. We didn’t sleep on the way afterward. The sun was kind to us, keeping it cloudy, and the road remained a visual feast of green. Everyone must have been as excited as I was, full of anticipation and a little fear about the reserve we were about to reach. Lost in thought, the weather suddenly changed, and it started pouring. I wondered if those kids I saw earlier got wet, and the girl who was looking at the sky—had she gotten home?
The farmhouse under the cloudy sky offered another kind of view. Groups of children ran around with their schoolbags. Some girls sat on the grass, perhaps lost in some youthful melancholy, while mischievous kids threw stones and fought. We stopped the car on the equator line for a group photo. Then a bunch of kids came over when we called them to take pictures, and we gave them candy. Those smelly little kids stretched out their tiny black hands, staring at me with wide eyes full of longing. Among them were also timid ones who didn’t dare come close. When I approached them, I couldn’t even tell the boys from the girls. The kids who had just gotten candy came back, some kindly sharing theirs, others pretending they hadn’t taken any by putting the candy in their pockets and still asking for more. Later, when we got back on the vehicle, they skipped away, probably comparing who got more candy later, just like we did as kids. On the way out, I saw them—the kids who didn’t speak English—waving cheerfully and calling out “bye” in sweet voices. I’ve never done any teaching volunteer work, so I don’t know if those kids usually smile like that. But it was truly the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.
We arrived at the reserve close to evening. We were all incredibly excited to find that there was wifi here. The tent we stayed in looked like the thatched-roof house of the seven dwarfs from Snow White. We chose to have six girls share one room for mutual support. Everything felt warm and cozy, except for the overwhelming number of bugs. After settling our luggage, we went online to call our families and let them know we were safe. After dinner, we sat around the campfire writing in our diaries. It was warm, but thinking about how many creatures we might be sharing the room with at night gave me chills.
Back in the room, I hurriedly washed up, changed into long sleeves and tight jeans for the next day, scared of any other species touching my body. I even dramatically stuffed cotton in my ears before carefully falling asleep. Go, go, African girl!
◇SECOND DAY IN OL PEJETA
I barely slept the night before. I dreamed of bugs crawling into my ears and woke up countless times. At six, I rubbed my heavy head and started packing. By the time I went out, it was almost seven—I had missed the magnificent sunrise everyone was talking about. There was still heavy fog outside, and it was cold, maybe around ten degrees, nothing like the equator. Breakfast was at seven, a schedule that was still hard for me to adjust to, as I was originally on holiday.
After breakfast, we had a morning of learning. Makau taught us how to use a compass and GPS, then how to measure diameter and height, identify damage caused by giraffes, elephants, or rhinos, and distinguish ant species on acacia trees. Time always flies when learning new things. At one o’clock, we had our first work meal. The pancakes and beef at lunch were delicious, both very close to Chinese flavors. Everything was starting to feel normal.
Afternoon is always the happiest time. That’s what I realized later. That afternoon, the sun was scorching, and no one dared to go outside and fight it. The six of us girls huddled together in the tent to rest. I, Dou Dou, and Qi Hang weren’t bothered by the heat and chatted away on the same bed. Two typical northeastern girls and a petite southern girl got together and laughed over dialects. There were so many funny moments—I only remember laughing loudly that day, carefree with the vitality of youth. I bet even the elephants outside could hear us.
At three in the afternoon, we had just woken up drowsily from our nap when it was time for our first field task. The sun was still blazing hot, and our group was about to step into this mysterious East African savanna. I was a bit scared—I mean, I’m really afraid of grass—and I’m allergic to UV rays, mosquito bites, and hadn’t had any vaccinations before coming here. I took my first step with extreme caution. The GPS showed that the first tree was 1.9 km away. I looked up, squinting at the sky, feeling like the sun was about to roast me, but I kept going. Along the way, there were lots of animal droppings. It seemed none of us were used to it—we screamed every time we saw some, leading to a non-stop chorus of shrieks. It felt like it took forever to reach the destination. Since it was our first task, we were assigned only a small amount, and this activity also had our scientist Makau and armed guard James guiding us, so everything went smoothly, and we finished in no time.
It was time to head back. Out of habit, I looked up, but the sun was already gone. The savanna sky was covered with layers of thick clouds. The initial excitement hadn’t worn off yet, and teenagers of sixteen or seventeen seem to be tireless. We joked and laughed as we made our way back. Because it was our first time on the job and no one had brought water bottles, we ran out of water on the way back. By the time we got to the tent, my mouth was so dry it felt like it was cracking.
Dinner at seven seemed like no one could wait anymore. Everyone was in their rooms sharing snacks and carefully picking up crumbs that fell on the ground to avoid an ant invasion. The mashed potatoes at dinner were still delicious. After dinner, we sat outside reading, enjoying a relaxed end to the day. I went back to the room early to wash up. The water flow in the reserve was weak, and the water was salty. The shower in the room had no hot water, so I took a near-ice-cold shower in a hurry, then quickly burrowed into my sleeping bag. I hadn’t slept well the night before due to fear of ants. Tonight, I must rest well—for the sunrise tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day!
◇THIRD DAY IN OL PEJETA
On the third day in the reserve, at six, my phone alarm rang on time. I got up, turned it off, got dressed and washed up with my eyes closed, and dragged my lead-like body outside with my eyes still shut. The cold instantly woke me up. I walked a little deeper into the savanna. The sunrise behind Mount Kenya was indescribably beautiful. I was ashamed of how inadequate words are, so I captured the scene with my phone. I was amazed by the contrast ratio of the Samsung screen, which engraved that beauty right there. For breakfast, I had a bowl of oatmeal soaked in milk and some mango, then began today’s brand-new and tough activities. Our group’s task today was to first locate a specific tree in the test area using GPS, then use the compass to find the true south and east directions, and measure out twenty meters with a rope, marking every two meters as a unit length. Using the east-west direction as the x-axis and the north-south direction as the y-axis, we then used another measuring tape to walk southward twenty meters at every two-meter mark along the x-axis, making it parallel to the y-axis. This setup allowed us to measure one hundred 2m x 2m small plots of land afterward. Our job was to find every single acacia tree in each plot—no matter how small—and measure its height, length, diameter, type of damage, the damager, the time of damage, and the types of ants on the tree.
At first, we would still shout in surprise, “There’s a tree here, quick, measure it!” or “Why is there no tree in this hole? Keep looking!” But later, the sun roasted us so much that the four of us felt like we were melting. The rhythm of standing up, squatting down, standing up, and squatting down felt like an infinitely looping sad G-major tune. Eventually, all we could hear were our mournful cries: “Why is there still a tree here?” “Just pull this tree out!” Near the end, I felt a bit dizzy, scared I’d collapse into the pile of poop below. A teammate gave me a piece of candy and then assigned me the easier job of being the secretary, just responsible for recording.
The work wasn’t easy. Everyone’s faces were sunburned red. Our group had the largest workload but was the second to last to finish. Just thinking about it made me feel somewhat comforted—we had all persevered. After finishing, we ran to Makau to learn more. We learned about ecological balance and symbiotic relationships in nature. For example: when ants live on acacia trees, the trees provide food for the ants, and the ants protect the trees from invaders. For instance, if a rhino tries to eat the acacia, ants inside the gall receive the signal and attack the invader to protect the whole colony. These brave ants will sting the rhino’s nose and secrete formic acid to drive it away. This kind of symbiosis also exists between other animals. Elephants are the biggest threat to rhinos’ food sources. They often destroy or uproot acacia trunks with their strength, causing many trees to die. This leaves rhinos without food. But conversely, acacias with broken trunks grow new shoots outward instead of upward, allowing rhinos to eat their side branches. So these two are also examples of mutual dependence in nature.
Of course, work time is also often joyful. To boost morale, I gave our “gang of four” a rustic yet loud name—the Fantastic Four. Afterward, Brother Tao recorded a video for Qi Hang, Dou Dou, and me, the “African Legends.”3 IDIOTSAnd like the show People Who Are Too Busy to Be Boring, we were all equally silly. The four of us were just as ridiculous, filming our own version of a behind-the-scenes documentary.
◇FOURTH DAY IN OL PEJETA
Dinner was still at one, perhaps because we were tired from work, everyone had been waiting in the dining hall early, then obediently took showers and napped. At three in the afternoon, Makau held a meeting, and then the driver took us to see wildlife.
Life here seems to follow a fixed routine: wake up early, eat, pack backpacks, work, lunch, rest, recreational activities, rest again, dinner, free time. Except for the work, which changes, everything else proceeds in an orderly fashion. But clearly, I’m not bored at all. This is the slow-paced, nearly reclusive life I’ve fantasized about countless times.
Today’s task was to first locate a specific tree in the test area using GPS, then use the compass to find five fixed directions, measuring acacia trees at ten different height intervals for each direction, recording their length, height, diameter, the number of thorns and galls within a specified length on the branches, and the types of ants. There were many acacia trees in the sample area today, so we finished the assigned task of fifty trees before even completing two directions. The purpose of this activity is for scientists to understand the average survival ability of these trees by counting the number of thorns and galls within a certain length on the branches, and then take relevant measures to ensure the rhinos’ food supply. Although we were the last to finish today, we managed it all on our own with the hard work of the Fantastic Four, and thinking about how the remaining tasks tomorrow would be the easiest, the four of us happily took a group photo.
As usual, our “African Legends” invited Brother Tao to host and record another video; and as always, the peace sign: “Hello everyone, we are the African Legends, the legend of Africa!” The videos were never serious. Every time we watched them back on the vehicle, the three of us would burst out laughing.SAWThe level of brutality in it. Instantly, I felt a sense of national shame—how could they bear to slaughter these adorable creatures so mercilessly? What happened to our solemn declarations about the equality of all life? Can even the laws be disregarded? Indeed, the seven deadly sins of human nature are indelible; indeed, humanity’s greatest enemy is itself.
Later, we had lunch at the Serena Hotel, a five-star resort under Sweetwater Conservancy. It was said that the CEO of the organizing committee wanted to reward us—the first group of young volunteers in 2013. The environment there was wonderful, and I finally got to enjoy some long-missed desserts. I also met an adorable British baby, which completely satisfied me as a baby enthusiast. I went back feeling utterly content.
In the evening, my two "legends" went to another room to play cards, while I stayed by the bonfire listening to music. Later, Daxuan came over to tell me ghost stories. The first few were so scary that I almost cried for no reason, but the later ones became increasingly hilarious. Coupled with everyone’s mischief, the atmosphere was completely ruined. After the crowd dispersed, I looked up at the sky and realized for the first time how beautiful the stars here were. The Milky Way cut boldly across the deep blue canvas, and the starlight twinkled above. I identified constellations with Zhang Ying—Jupiter, Sirius, Orion, Virgo, Taurus—we patiently recognized each one until the cold finally drove us back to sleep.
◇FIFTH DAY IN OL PEJETA
I woke up freezing that morning. Yesterday, Qihang suspected there were mouse droppings on the bed, so he refused to sleep there and even removed a layer of blanket. Being the taller one by over ten centimeters, I willingly swapped beds with him. As expected, it was freezing this morning. I woke up shivering at 5:30, curled up, and slept for another hour. When I finally woke again at 6:45, I practically leaped out of bed to wash up. My UV allergy flared up, leaving my forehead covered in pimples—it was so unsightly I felt like crying. In a fluster, I fled from the mirror and rushed to breakfast.
Feeling refreshed and ready to go, we seemed to have adapted to life on the grassland. We no longer gaped in shock like we did on the first day in the reserve when we saw animals; instead, we passed them like neighbors. Nor did we scream at animal droppings—we calmly accepted that stepping on them was fine. Today was the toughest day: an eight-kilometer hike divided into two groups. One group observed wildlife, while the other (unfortunately mine) studied elephant dung. Not only did I have to follow GPS coordinates, but I also had to crouch down and identify the types of droppings. Thankfully, the elephants were considerate—there wasn’t much. Around 3.5 kilometers in, we finally spotted a tree, and we dashed toward it like it was a lifeline, taking photos, cooling off, and drinking water. I held back from drinking, planning to sip only when I couldn’t take it anymore. As it turned out, that was the right move—while the others were dying of thirst over the next four kilometers, I could occasionally wet my throat. The eight kilometers weren’t exhausting, and Daxuan took good care of me along the way, making it even easier. Walking and gazing at the sky, I thought about the adorable rhino from yesterday—and myself. I’m no expert, nor do I have the fearlessness to dedicate my life to the grassland. I’m just an ordinary high school student from Harbin, Heilongjiang, China. All I can do is try my best within the limited time, more accurately and diligently. Maybe this effort isn’t much, but more young people will awaken, more will start protecting wildlife, the Earth, and ourselves. I believe it.
In the afternoon, everyone was exhausted. The girls in the house slept through their nap until 3:30 PM, when the teacher finally woke us up. Then came another exciting announcement: we were going to track lions soon. Lions, my living idols—I grabbed my phone and dashed out eagerly. Up ahead sat a lion-tracking expert with a radio, leading us to find the elusive king of beasts. I was amazed by the Land Rover’s ruggedness as we bounced along until we stopped just ten meters from a pair of lions. This time, I couldn’t help but gasp. The male lion lounged lazily in the sun, exuding an undeniable regal aura. He glanced back at us, and I inhaled sharply. Then he turned away and lay down to sleep, his gaze radiating nothing but disdain and dominance—"who dares challenge me?" The female lion, however, watched us warily, likely out of her innate hunting instincts. Beyond admiring both, I had no other thoughts.
◇SIXTH DAY IN OL PEJETA
On the second-to-last day at Ol Pejeta, I began to wonder if I’d end up sleeping forever. I woke up at 7:05 AM, later each day. Understandable—I was getting more tired every day. Plus, I’d asked for an extra thick blanket yesterday and slept like the dead. I quickly washed up and rushed out to grab breakfast. Ever since Teacher Chen dug out his treasured bottle of Lao Gan Ma, every meal tasted amazing.
Today, it was finally our group’s turn to take it easy. Based on last year’s data, we had to locate every tagged tree and record its details. Proudly, our "Fantastic Four" finished the task before any other group had even completed half. Later, Brother Si went to help Group One, leaving the three of us. The "Thai Legend," of course, had to film a video—but this time, we added a new opening move: pulling off the mask and turning around. Then came our signature "Legend Style," recording a hilarious video to entertain ourselves.
At noon, I took a cold shower, changed into shorts and a tank top, and didn’t care about getting sunburned. I’m proud of my tanned skin. After a scientist gave a lecture on chimpanzees, we headed to see the apes. I hesitated about changing into long pants, but Daxuan said we probably wouldn’t need to get out of the vehicle, so I trusted his usual reliability. Later, I regretted it—we had to get out and even step into the grass. To make matters worse, it started pouring rain, and I was drenched. But thinking back to how I’d gone from fearing even grass to blending in with the savannah in shorts, I smiled contentedly. Later, I saw an old gorilla named POCO, an ’80s-born (in human years), sitting in front of me, covering his eyes in thought, occasionally resting his chin. His adorable demeanor reminded me of the chimps being sold, reigniting my anger. When will the ignorant older generation stop this endless slaughter? Will our generation, when we take charge, be more enlightened? Hope so.
In the evening, Makau took a few of us to the Serena Hotel’s gift shop to buy souvenirs. I picked out many gifts for my middle school teachers but bought nothing else—handmade items aren’t for everyone. On the way back, Cuncun was belting out "New Drunken Concubine" at the top of his lungs. Makau told us there were four female lions hunting ahead. We weren’t scared at all and even shone our flashlights at them. We laughed at how Cuncun’s singing had attracted the predators before heading back to the tent.
◇LAST DAY IN OL PEJETA
On the second-to-last morning, our "Legends" all woke up at 7:15 AM. We quickly washed up and rushed to the dwindling breakfast table. Thankfully, I’d saved a pack of Master Kong Spicy Beef Noodles as a souvenir for the last day, which made the other two glare with envy.
Today, we repeated the first activity. Maybe we were extra focused, or maybe we’d just gotten the hang of it—but the toughest task was completed in under thirty minutes, the first group to finish. Our "African Legends" filmed a cheesy wrap-up video, which we cringed at every time we watched it. Happily finishing the work, we sat under a tree, gazing at the East African savannah we were about to leave. A bittersweet feeling settled in. Was this what growing up felt like? Like flipping through the pages of a book—drawing closer out of fear of loneliness, saying goodbye knowing that without parting, growth would lose its brilliance.
In the afternoon, we visited a girls’ school in the community. It provided primary education up to eighth grade, followed by four years of high school. We toured their kitchen, biogas plant, classrooms, library, dormitories, and labs—all in varying states of disrepair, but still the best the community had. I felt a pang of sadness—these girls, my age, lived lives so different from mine. The next activity lifted my spirits, though. During the Q&A session, their insightful questions reminded me that infrastructure isn’t the foundation of education. Their global perspectives were broad, sometimes even stumping us. Watching them perform dances with confidence and joy made me happy again. We handed out candy and pens, initially worried about hurting their pride, but when they crowded around to grab them, I relaxed. On the way back, we re-entered the reserve gates, but my heart felt nothing like it had on arrival. Back then, we were curious newborn calves. Now, we were travelers about to leave, taking one last look.
That evening, Professor Wahungu, Director of Kenya’s National Environment Management Authority, led our closing meeting. One by one, we shared our feelings, and many of us had watery eyes. The bond we eleven had just formed would soon be scattered across the world. Behind the wind is more wind, above the sky is more sky, and beyond the road is more road. Even though we all knew that the distance ahead held nothing but more distance, and that farther places were lonelier, humans must dream. So goodbye, friends. Wishing you well. Harvard, are you not far off either?
Reflecting on everything here—the warm, easygoing people, the azure, crystal-clear skies, the pristine, dazzling starlight, the beautiful, captivating animals. THANKS FOR EVERYTHING HERE IN OL PEJETA, I LOVE ALL THE STUFF HERE, I’LL MISS U GUYS, MAKAU, JAMES, SILOMO. I MAY GO BACK IN JUST A FEW YEARS. SEE YA!
◇The next day at eight
After breakfast, we set off on time. Leaving is the beginning of something new; saying goodbye is for the next hello. I believe more and more people will awaken and come to this East African savannah to do what we’ve done. I hope that next time, it won’t just be these few black rhinos—like Brother Xiang said, that there’ll be so many rhinos they can be ridden like horses. I know it’s a joke, but it carries our collective hopes for the future.
Guarding the Earth, guarding our home.
It's not a journey. Every journey ends, but we go on. The world turns and we turn with it. Plans disappear, dreams take over, but wherever I go, there you are: my luck; my fate; my fortune. Ol Pejeta, inevitable.