It takes just one village to save species

CHONGZUO, China: Long ago, in the poverty-stricken hills of southern China, a village banished its children to the forest to feed on wild fruits and leaves. Years later, when food stores improved, the children's parents returned to the woods to reclaim their young.

To their surprise, their offspring had adapted to forest life remarkably well; the children's white headdresses had dissolved into fur, tails grew from their spines and they refused to come home.

At the Nongguan Nature Reserve in Chongzuo, Guangxi province, the real-life descendants of these mythical children — monkeys known as white-headed langurs — still swing through the forest canopy.

As the langurs traverse a towering karst peak in a setting out of a Chinese landscape painting, they appear untouched by time and change, but it is remarkable that they and their tropical forest home have survived. In 1996, when the langurs were highly endangered, Dr. Pan Wenshi, China's premier panda biologist, came to study them in Chongzuo at what was then an abandoned military base. This was at a time when hunters were taking the canary-yellow young langurs from their cliff-face strongholds, and villagers were leveling the forest for firewood.

Pan quickly hired wardens to protect the remaining animals but then went a step further, taking on the larger social and economic factors jeopardizing the species. Pan recognized the animal's origin myth as legend, but he also believed that alleviating the region's continuing poverty was essential for their long-term survival.

A newborn white-headed langur with its mother at the Chongzuo Ecology Park in China. The langurs, which are born yellow, are thriving here. (Peking University Chongzuo Biodiversity Research Institute )

In the 24-square-kilometer nature reserve where he has focused his studies, the langur population increased to more than 500 today from 96 in 1996.

"It's a model of what can be done in hot-spot areas that have been devastated by development," said Dr. Russell Mittermeier, the president of Conservation International. "Pan has combined all the elements — protection, research, ecotourism, good relations with the local community; he's really turned the langur into a flagship for the region."

Part of what makes Pan's achievements so remarkable is the success he is having compared with the fate of primates elsewhere. According to the International Union for Conservation of Nature's most recent Red List, nearly half of the world's 634 primate species and subspecies are in danger of extinction. "If you look at the Red List, Asia has by far the highest percentage in the threatened categories," Mittermeier said.

When Pan arrived in Guangxi, the challenges of studying langurs, much less protecting them, seemed insurmountable. He and a student spent their first two years living in collapsing cinder block barracks with no electricity or running water.

At that time, the langur's population was in freefall, dropping from an estimated 2,000 individuals in the late 1980s to fewer than 500 a decade later. Historically, local farmers had occasionally killed langurs for food, but then teams of outside hunters began taking a serious toll on the population.

"In the 1990s, the Chinese economy started booming, and those with money — governors, factory owners, businessmen — all wanted to eat the wildlife to show how powerful they were," said Pan, 71.

A breakthrough in protecting the species came in 1997 when he helped local villagers build a pipeline to secure clean drinking water. Shortly thereafter, a farmer from the village freed a trapped langur and brought it to Pan.

"When you help the villagers, they would like to help you back," he said.

As self-appointed local advocate, Pan raised money for a new school in another village, oversaw the construction of health clinics in two neighboring towns and organized physicals for women throughout the area.

"Now, when outsiders try to trap langurs," Pan said, "the locals stop them from coming in."

But the villagers were still dependent on the reserve's trees for fuel.

"If I told them they can't cut down the trees, that wouldn't be right," Pan said. "They have to feed their families."

In 2000, he received a $12,500 environmental award from Ford Motor Company. He used the money to build biogas digesters — concrete-lined pits that capture methane gas from animal waste — to provide cooking fuel for roughly 1,000 people.

Based on the project's success, the federal government financed a sevenfold increase in construction of tanks to hold biogas. Today, 95 percent of the population living just outside the reserve burn biogas in their homes.

As a result, the park's number and diversity of trees — the langurs' primary habitat and sole food source — has increased significantly.

"When I first came, the hillsides were very rocky," Pan said. "Now it's hard to see the rocks and even harder to see the langurs because of all the trees."

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By Phil Mckenna Published: September 23, 2008 ________________