Translator: Catherine Dean Reviewer: Denise RQ
When I was young, I lived in Paris.
I grew up in the city.
Nevertheless, I was lucky enough
to spend my childhood not far from nature.
My grandparents, my parents regularly took me
to the countryside, into the forest.
And there, I could indulge in one of my favourite activities:
building dens.
Do you remember that?
We all built dens, often in unusual places:
Under beds, behind the stairs, in the garden.
I’m going to ask you to close your eyes for a moment.
I’m going to take you to the forest to build a den.
You can hear the sound of the wind in the leaves,
the chirping of birds.
A small mammal goes past you and runs for cover in the thick litter.
You can feel the cool wind on your cheeks and the smell of mold.
The den: choose a location,
then go, find branches, some thick, some thinner,
to fine-tune the structure.
Then, when it’s completed, go inside.
Is is big enough? High enough? Sturdy? Well protected against the rain?
From the inside, can you see what’s happening outside?
Open your eyes!
A den? No! It’s a house.
A mongulu.
Miadic Appollinaire’s house, the eldest of a family of Baka pygmies,
who live in the forests in southeast Cameroon.
The house is made of bowed branches,
knotted together with bark fibers and covered in Ngongo leaves,
a plant, of the Marantaceae family, cousin to the ginger family,
which acts here as a vegetable roof tile.
Four people live under his roof.
I have visited rainforests dozens of times.
It was in 2008 that I met Miadic Apollinaire and his family.
I was there to try to understand their nomadic way of life,
and in what way
forest exploitation damages their everyday life, their culture.
Today, 300 million people still live in forests:
in the boreal forests in the north and in rainforests.
300 million: almost five times France’s population.
When I arrived, with Cyril, my partner and photographer,
we set up our tent not far from Miadic’s encampment.
Little by little, a relationship of trust was established.
And Miadic, being the only one to speak a bit of French, day after day,
while the women went to gather plants and to fish,
and the men hunted and searched for honey,
talked to me.
We talked about this changing world,
of their world, which is dissolving in the globalization,
of this forest which we, the Northern countries, are devouring,
for wood, pulp, plywood.
Unlike the Native Americans who rallied together
to exercise their rights and those of the forest,
the Baka pygmies, like Miadic and his family,
are too far apart to communicate.
For them, forests, the “bele,” are our soul.
Without forests, we couldn’t exist.
They provide everything. We are part of the forest.
Forests, for the Baka,
for the nomadic people who depend on them,
they are everything.
They are a pharmacy, a pantry, a house,
a receptacle of their myths, of their legends,
a retreat for their ancestors.
Miadic asked me to relay their alarm call.
We are all affected by what is happening in the rainforests
even though they’re so far away.
We can’t turn a blind eye to Miadic and his family’s tragedy,
because together, we can make things happen.
His house, it’s not the fruit of his imagination, of our imagination
unlike our childhood dens.
It’s, truly, the most important thing in their lives, their home.
They live there.
Yet, today, the Baka, a nomadic people,
who move from clearing to clearing throughout their wanderings in the forest,
are forced to settle down because the forest is receding
and doesn’t provide them with enough to eat.
In this way, they are losing their culture, their identity,
like so many more of those 300 million people
who depend on this ecosystem.
“We have to save the forest!
We have to save our home!”, a desperate Miadic Apollinaire tells me.
Forests, today, cover around four billion hectares of the planet;
31% of the world’s land surface.
If we do nothing, every year,
we will lose the equivalent of a country
like Costa Rica: three times the surface of the Bouches-du-Rhône department,
13 million hectares every year.
We’re devouring the forest for its wood and mineral resources,
but also to set up huge industrial mono-cultures.
For many decades in Indonesia and Malaysia,
where the orangutan lives, that big carrot-coloured monkey,
well, in Indonesia,
we’re setting fire to the forests to make space for the palm oil.
And this palm oil is invading our everyday lives, our cupboards.
Admittedly, this fight is far from simple.
It’s full of obstacles.
But despite this, together, we can make things happen.
Under the pressure of consumers, big multinational companies have started
to think about the elaboration of a sustainable palm oil sector.
The label FSC – Forest Stewardship Council is more and more visible.
Because we, the consumers, are more careful,
about the wood and its by-products that we buy.
Together, we can, truly, make things happen.
The consequence of this deforestation is the increase in poaching.
The forests are emptying.
In Indonesia, orangutans are being captured to be sold as pets,
and in Central Africa, we’re talking about empty forest syndrome,
hence this silence!
Because there, you listen.
And you heard it before, this buzz of animals:
there are birds, frogs, cicadas that sing all the time.
Twenty-four seven!
And all of a sudden, you listen, and you hear nothing at all.
As a consequence, because forests are emptying,
the Baka have absolutely nothing left to eat.
When I was younger, I wanted to be an ornithologist.
And then, it was in Borneo
that I decided to do a thesis on orangutans.
Day after day, month after month, I merged, interfered, immersed myself
in the everyday life of these primates who, as well as chimpanzees, gorillas,
bonobos, are our closest cousins.
I worked with individuals
who were saved from trafficking, poaching, and were reintroduced into the forest.
One day, when I was at the top of a tree,
15 meters from the ground,
studying the structure the nests that the orangutans build for themselves,
every night, to sleep,
attached to my harness, not really in my element,
notebook, pen and binoculars in hand,
I suddenly felt a presence at my feet.
I saw Maya, a female.
Apparently, by the scowl on her face,
she wasn’t very happy to see me interfering with her territory.
And before I realized what was happening,
she gave me an almighty slap, with a hand twice the size of mine!
This is perhaps what we call the clash of cultures!
(Laughter)
It’s possibly at that moment,
I realized how important it is to respect them,
but also, and above all, to respect
their environment, their ecosystem: this forest.
Today, there are 4,500 orangutans in Sumatra, 45,500 in Borneo:
two separate species.
Every month, every year, these numbers decrease.
And if we do nothing, soon,
orangutans will only be a memory on glossy paper.
If we rally together to save the forest,
we can protect orangutans,
as well as 60% of the animal and plant species
that live in these forests: 60% of the world’s biodiversity.
And we will enable the 300 million people who live in the forest
to continue to enjoy their home.
That’s not all!
We will also enable 1.6 billion other people,
who get, directly or indirectly, their resources from this ecosystem,
to continue to benefit from it.
Forests play various roles.
They are air conditioners, lungs, unlike our oceans.
Yet, today, forests are going up in flames,
flames that account for 25% of the greenhouse gas emissions,
responsible for climate change.
To protect the future of the Baka, of the orangutans, as well as ours,
we can do something.
Together, we can stop this process.
Firstly, we can inform ourselves – what you’re doing at the moment –
and then, inform your loved ones.
There are some websites that enable you to go further,
to learn more about these peoples, for example, who live on and in the forest
or about orangutans.
Secondly, you can become an active player,
pay more attention to what you buy, what you put in your cupboards.
For example, avoid palm oil
until a lasting and sustainable sector is created.
There is a website that can give you pointers
on which products contain palm oil.
This lasting sector is possible, especially if we install
monoculture palm plantations on degraded agricultural lands,
there are many of these, and many are abandoned.
It’s undoubtedly slower and more costly for industries,
but it’s possible.
When possible, favour FSC certified wood
which guarantees sustainable forest management,
as well as the respect of the people who live there.
For example, in Cameroon,
the FSC certification works with the Pygmies
and together, they are mapping out the forest.
They are cataloging the trees the Pygmies use for food,
as well as their sacred sites, and they promise to protect them.
This way, the Pygmies can continue to live in their homes.
Together, we can change the rules of the game.
The FSC example shows that the consumer
can put pressure on the States, on multinational companies.
And we all have a role to play in this process.
I came back from Cameroon with a memory of Miadic and his family.
This sack is the Pygmies’ nomadic home, a mobile house,
that they transport from one clearing to another.
This way, they can move and not over-exploit the forest,
let it breathe, live!
The Baka are content with the basics, but we’re taking these basics from them,
to fill our big houses with objects, objects that we move in huge trucks.
If we all took a bit of time to pay attention
to what we put in our cupboards, to what we consume,
we can contribute, we can enable,
Miadic, his family, and the 300 million people
to continue enjoying their forest.
We are also helping to protect thousands, millions of animal and plant species.
And we will enable the forest to continue to play its role
of worldwide air conditioner, of lung, a blue and green lung.
But, we will also enable our children in turn, to build their own dens
to use their imagination, to dream, to create, to play,
to invent a better world!
Thank you all.
(Applause)
When I was young, I lived in Paris.
I grew up in the city.
Nevertheless, I was lucky enough
to spend my childhood not far from nature.
My grandparents, my parents regularly took me
to the countryside, into the forest.
And there, I could indulge in one of my favourite activities:
building dens.
Do you remember that?
We all built dens, often in unusual places:
Under beds, behind the stairs, in the garden.
I’m going to ask you to close your eyes for a moment.
I’m going to take you to the forest to build a den.
You can hear the sound of the wind in the leaves,
the chirping of birds.
A small mammal goes past you and runs for cover in the thick litter.
You can feel the cool wind on your cheeks and the smell of mold.
The den: choose a location,
then go, find branches, some thick, some thinner,
to fine-tune the structure.
Then, when it’s completed, go inside.
Is is big enough? High enough? Sturdy? Well protected against the rain?
From the inside, can you see what’s happening outside?
Open your eyes!
A den? No! It’s a house.
A mongulu.
Miadic Appollinaire’s house, the eldest of a family of Baka pygmies,
who live in the forests in southeast Cameroon.
The house is made of bowed branches,
knotted together with bark fibers and covered in Ngongo leaves,
a plant, of the Marantaceae family, cousin to the ginger family,
which acts here as a vegetable roof tile.
Four people live under his roof.
I have visited rainforests dozens of times.
It was in 2008 that I met Miadic Apollinaire and his family.
I was there to try to understand their nomadic way of life,
and in what way
forest exploitation damages their everyday life, their culture.
Today, 300 million people still live in forests:
in the boreal forests in the north and in rainforests.
300 million: almost five times France’s population.
When I arrived, with Cyril, my partner and photographer,
we set up our tent not far from Miadic’s encampment.
Little by little, a relationship of trust was established.
And Miadic, being the only one to speak a bit of French, day after day,
while the women went to gather plants and to fish,
and the men hunted and searched for honey,
talked to me.
We talked about this changing world,
of their world, which is dissolving in the globalization,
of this forest which we, the Northern countries, are devouring,
for wood, pulp, plywood.
Unlike the Native Americans who rallied together
to exercise their rights and those of the forest,
the Baka pygmies, like Miadic and his family,
are too far apart to communicate.
For them, forests, the “bele,” are our soul.
Without forests, we couldn’t exist.
They provide everything. We are part of the forest.
Forests, for the Baka,
for the nomadic people who depend on them,
they are everything.
They are a pharmacy, a pantry, a house,
a receptacle of their myths, of their legends,
a retreat for their ancestors.
Miadic asked me to relay their alarm call.
We are all affected by what is happening in the rainforests
even though they’re so far away.
We can’t turn a blind eye to Miadic and his family’s tragedy,
because together, we can make things happen.
His house, it’s not the fruit of his imagination, of our imagination
unlike our childhood dens.
It’s, truly, the most important thing in their lives, their home.
They live there.
Yet, today, the Baka, a nomadic people,
who move from clearing to clearing throughout their wanderings in the forest,
are forced to settle down because the forest is receding
and doesn’t provide them with enough to eat.
In this way, they are losing their culture, their identity,
like so many more of those 300 million people
who depend on this ecosystem.
“We have to save the forest!
We have to save our home!”, a desperate Miadic Apollinaire tells me.
Forests, today, cover around four billion hectares of the planet;
31% of the world’s land surface.
If we do nothing, every year,
we will lose the equivalent of a country
like Costa Rica: three times the surface of the Bouches-du-Rhône department,
13 million hectares every year.
We’re devouring the forest for its wood and mineral resources,
but also to set up huge industrial mono-cultures.
For many decades in Indonesia and Malaysia,
where the orangutan lives, that big carrot-coloured monkey,
well, in Indonesia,
we’re setting fire to the forests to make space for the palm oil.
And this palm oil is invading our everyday lives, our cupboards.
Admittedly, this fight is far from simple.
It’s full of obstacles.
But despite this, together, we can make things happen.
Under the pressure of consumers, big multinational companies have started
to think about the elaboration of a sustainable palm oil sector.
The label FSC – Forest Stewardship Council is more and more visible.
Because we, the consumers, are more careful,
about the wood and its by-products that we buy.
Together, we can, truly, make things happen.
The consequence of this deforestation is the increase in poaching.
The forests are emptying.
In Indonesia, orangutans are being captured to be sold as pets,
and in Central Africa, we’re talking about empty forest syndrome,
hence this silence!
Because there, you listen.
And you heard it before, this buzz of animals:
there are birds, frogs, cicadas that sing all the time.
Twenty-four seven!
And all of a sudden, you listen, and you hear nothing at all.
As a consequence, because forests are emptying,
the Baka have absolutely nothing left to eat.
When I was younger, I wanted to be an ornithologist.
And then, it was in Borneo
that I decided to do a thesis on orangutans.
Day after day, month after month, I merged, interfered, immersed myself
in the everyday life of these primates who, as well as chimpanzees, gorillas,
bonobos, are our closest cousins.
I worked with individuals
who were saved from trafficking, poaching, and were reintroduced into the forest.
One day, when I was at the top of a tree,
15 meters from the ground,
studying the structure the nests that the orangutans build for themselves,
every night, to sleep,
attached to my harness, not really in my element,
notebook, pen and binoculars in hand,
I suddenly felt a presence at my feet.
I saw Maya, a female.
Apparently, by the scowl on her face,
she wasn’t very happy to see me interfering with her territory.
And before I realized what was happening,
she gave me an almighty slap, with a hand twice the size of mine!
This is perhaps what we call the clash of cultures!
(Laughter)
It’s possibly at that moment,
I realized how important it is to respect them,
but also, and above all, to respect
their environment, their ecosystem: this forest.
Today, there are 4,500 orangutans in Sumatra, 45,500 in Borneo:
two separate species.
Every month, every year, these numbers decrease.
And if we do nothing, soon,
orangutans will only be a memory on glossy paper.
If we rally together to save the forest,
we can protect orangutans,
as well as 60% of the animal and plant species
that live in these forests: 60% of the world’s biodiversity.
And we will enable the 300 million people who live in the forest
to continue to enjoy their home.
That’s not all!
We will also enable 1.6 billion other people,
who get, directly or indirectly, their resources from this ecosystem,
to continue to benefit from it.
Forests play various roles.
They are air conditioners, lungs, unlike our oceans.
Yet, today, forests are going up in flames,
flames that account for 25% of the greenhouse gas emissions,
responsible for climate change.
To protect the future of the Baka, of the orangutans, as well as ours,
we can do something.
Together, we can stop this process.
Firstly, we can inform ourselves – what you’re doing at the moment –
and then, inform your loved ones.
There are some websites that enable you to go further,
to learn more about these peoples, for example, who live on and in the forest
or about orangutans.
Secondly, you can become an active player,
pay more attention to what you buy, what you put in your cupboards.
For example, avoid palm oil
until a lasting and sustainable sector is created.
There is a website that can give you pointers
on which products contain palm oil.
This lasting sector is possible, especially if we install
monoculture palm plantations on degraded agricultural lands,
there are many of these, and many are abandoned.
It’s undoubtedly slower and more costly for industries,
but it’s possible.
When possible, favour FSC certified wood
which guarantees sustainable forest management,
as well as the respect of the people who live there.
For example, in Cameroon,
the FSC certification works with the Pygmies
and together, they are mapping out the forest.
They are cataloging the trees the Pygmies use for food,
as well as their sacred sites, and they promise to protect them.
This way, the Pygmies can continue to live in their homes.
Together, we can change the rules of the game.
The FSC example shows that the consumer
can put pressure on the States, on multinational companies.
And we all have a role to play in this process.
I came back from Cameroon with a memory of Miadic and his family.
This sack is the Pygmies’ nomadic home, a mobile house,
that they transport from one clearing to another.
This way, they can move and not over-exploit the forest,
let it breathe, live!
The Baka are content with the basics, but we’re taking these basics from them,
to fill our big houses with objects, objects that we move in huge trucks.
If we all took a bit of time to pay attention
to what we put in our cupboards, to what we consume,
we can contribute, we can enable,
Miadic, his family, and the 300 million people
to continue enjoying their forest.
We are also helping to protect thousands, millions of animal and plant species.
And we will enable the forest to continue to play its role
of worldwide air conditioner, of lung, a blue and green lung.
But, we will also enable our children in turn, to build their own dens
to use their imagination, to dream, to create, to play,
to invent a better world!
Thank you all.
(Applause)
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