Chris Packham: In Search of the Lost Girl (2018) Movie Script
1
Come on, Scratcher.
My name's Chris Packham and I'm a
wildlife enthusiast and a
keen photographer.
Come on, let's go.
20 years ago I was filming a
documentary in the Sumatran
rainforests of Indonesia.
And there I had an encounter with a
tribe of hunter-gatherers.
They were called the Orang Rimba
and they lived in perfect harmony
with their jungle home.
And I've never forgotten them.
In many ways, that was one of the
greatest moments of my entire life.
I took one photograph that's become
particularly special to me -
a photograph of a young girl.
Her lifetime has coincided with some
of the biggest environmental changes
our world has ever seen.
And Sumatra has been at
the forefront,
with millions of hectares of
rainforest being destroyed so that
plantations of highly productive
crops can be grown in their place.
She's become a sort of
barometer for me,
a way of measuring the condition
of our planet.
If she is still out there, living
harmoniously in that environment,
then there's hope for us all.
But if we've robbed her
of her habitat,
then we really have got
something to fear.
So, 20 years on, I'm going back
to Sumatra to try and find her.
This is definitely the
right sort of terrain.
The photo is my only link.
This girl was about
six or seven in 1998.
I've no idea where she might be.
This whole task is far greater
than I ever imagined it would be.
I don't even know her name,
what's happened to her forest...
Ouch!
..and whether there is
still a place in it for her.
So, million-dollar question...
..was this girl one of the children
that was killed?
I'm determined to find out
what happened.
I've got one chance to see
whether these people still exist.
Yeah, here she is.
In 1998 in a sweaty glade
in Sumatra,
I found this one girl and her tribe
that were living entirely
harmoniously in that environment.
I had found in those people
what I've seen in other species
all of my life, and so admired.
What they needed was not any
possessions, it was their
environment.
That was the beauty.
Now, I don't know exactly what's
happened on the ground in Sumatra
over the last 20 years,
but I do know that my chances of
finding that girl and her tribe
thriving in those forests
are dwindling by the day.
I'd like to go back to that patch of
jungle and find that they were still
living there sustainably
in that forest.
That would give you some hope?
I think it would, yeah.
What if you don't find that?
Her situation might be
radically different.
This is so meaningful to Chris.
Very early on in our relationship,
I remember seeing that photograph,
I heard the story and it's always
been a feature of conversations.
A couple of years ago I was out in
Sumatra doing some conservation
work - often we were trekking
into the heart of the forests.
It was like a bit of a ghost town,
there was just no sign of life.
And how far away was the nearest
village, then, from...?
Oh, miles. We would make
an assumption
that the younger generation
would want to stay.
But would they, if they had
awareness of the outside world?
Would they want to gravitate
towards that?
You don't know, do you?
I'm excited for him going.
But I'm also kind of dreading him
coming back, you know, with bad
news.
I know he'll be devastated if he
comes back and finds that she is,
worst case scenario, no longer
alive, or no longer living as
she did.
I am... I'm worried about it
if you want to know.
But if it ends badly,
let's not hide from the fact.
Sometimes the harsh reality of the
world that we've made needs to be
presented to people.
You can't keep on covering up
the damage.
Sometimes it has to hurt.
And that hurt can stimulate people
to try and make a difference.
So if it's a catastrophe,
if there's no forest left...
..then that story must be told.
I wish I'd been Marco Polo because
when he came here in the 1200s,
this would have been a paradise,
you know.
But there might be little bits
of paradise left,
it may not all be paradise lost.
I'm arriving in the city of Padang.
Many of Sumatra's 50 million people
earn a living from the island's
rubber, coffee and palm oil trades,
all being grown in place
of its rainforests.
And the economy here has
exploded since my last visit.
The principal success here
is to find this girl,
who is now a woman, alive.
But not living in a shack on the
side of the highway or in some
condominium on the edge
of a city somewhere.
Searching for one woman on the sixth
largest island in the world is going
to be like finding the proverbial
needle in a haystack.
But fortunately, I'm sharing this
rather daunting task with local
producer Shinta.
Are we down here?
We're here.
We're just there, are we?
Right, OK. Now, the place that I
went to was Sungai Penuh.
We landed at Padang
and we had a long,
very torturous drive
to Sungai Penuh,
and there we met a lady
called Debbie Martyr.
Now, I've got a photograph
of Debbie here.
There she is. Oh, yeah.
She knew someone who knew
where they would be.
I think our first port of call
has to be to try and find Debbie
and see what she can remember.
I know she's still here
because my partner met her
a couple of years ago out here
when she was working with tigers.
I think that's a good call.
Debbie's hometown of Sungai Penuh
is 150 miles to the south.
It was where I based myself in 1998.
Has it changed a lot?
It was more forested over there.
So I remember those hills
having trees on.
And the market, I remember
the market being just here.
Yeah, yeah.
Shall we go there?
Yeah, let's go down here.
Sungai Penuh 20 years ago
was pretty off the map.
But now it's rocketed
into the 21st century.
Why do they allow mopeds
in here? That's crazy.
Yeah, I know. This is not
supposed to be like that.
This is madness. Chaos.
But it is the perfect place
to pick up some goodwill gifts
for the journey to come.
Shinta, I was thinking,
is there some things
that we should take?
Machete. Machetes? This one.
This one? OK, I'm going to shake
this man's hand.
Yes, that's a deal, yes,
that's good.
As captivating as Sungai Penuh is,
I'm desperately hoping the girl and
her people haven't been drawn out of
the forest by all of its bright
lights and trinkets.
Shinta, there you are. I'm just
asking. So we have to go there.
This way? OK.
I know the girl's tribe,
the Orang Rimba,
are nomadic and they can cover
vast distances on foot.
Fortunately, Debbie is in the same
house she was 20 years ago.
Debbie is the only one that can give
me a starting point on my quest,
really. Because I don't even know
where we went on the map.
And I need to know that much.
Debbie! Hello.
It seems like yesterday.
Hello, mate. How are you?
All right?
I've got a bit of a sore throat.
Sit outside shall we, here?
It doesn't seem like 20 years.
It's not that long, surely? 1998.
Seriously. I've got some photos,
actually, of that encounter.
A long time ago!
So look, here's the group,
here they are.
It was fantastic, wasn't it?
What an amazing afternoon.
Yeah. This was the girl
that I photographed.
Yeah. That's a beautiful picture.
This picture haunts me, Debbie,
I've got to say.
It was so, so magical.
The thing is, I'd like to find her.
I've worried about these people
for such a long time.
So much forest has been lost.
As the forest has shrunk it becomes
more and more difficult for them to
maintain that traditional lifestyle
and they end up on the fringes of
villages and the group you met got
mugged, for want of a better word.
It was a nasty, violent robbery.
Four people were killed
by these...sons of bitches.
Isn't that awful?
He was killed. He was killed?
Yes.
And was she killed? Yes.
So she was killed in
that too, was she? Yes.
But the little girl here,
I don't think so.
What do you think of my chances,
then, out of ten,
of finding this woman?
Let's go for three. Three?
Do you think that we won't find
her because she's dead,
or do you think that we won't find
her because she's moved off and we
just simply won't be able to
find her?
That I don't know.
Well, we're going to look.
You've got to.
You've got a way to go, boy.
The attack happened
in September 2000 -
that was two years
after I met the tribe.
It's desperately, desperately sad.
And piecing it all together,
they must've been forced out of the
jungle because of deforestation,
ended up too close to a village
where they were targeted by robbers,
and this tragically cost them
four of their lives.
There's a chance that the girl
would have survived that attack,
but in the aftermath, who knows?
She could have starved to death.
So, Debbie, here's the map.
So I'm going to try and find that
spot where we encountered them all
those years ago. How far do you
think we got along here?
Can you remember? Do you think we
met them on that road?
Yeah.
Right.
What do you think the chances are
then that any of those people remain
in that area?
You've got some fragments of forest
left for hunter-gatherers
to live in. Well, look, I'm going
to try and find this lady.
Blimey, what the...? Yeah.
There's some weather coming in.
Look at that. That's truly
Sumatran weather.
Good luck. Take care.
I'm heading east out of Sungai Penuh
into the interior in the hope that
the girl and her family are
still hunter-gatherers following
the well-trodden paths
of their ancestors.
I know it's a long shot,
but I might just find them in the
same spot I met them 20 years ago,
or at least if not them, some clue
as to their whereabouts.
Debbie thought that it was
somewhere in this valley.
Around here? Yeah, which is where we
are now.
That is that valley.
But in 1998 this road, which is the
main road, was a cinder road.
And I remember the shape
of the road -
it dipped down and then it rose up,
turned to the left,
went over a hill.
And we stopped just before
the top of the hill.
This is definitely the right
sort of terrain.
I remember all of these really
steep-sided hills and I remember
looking up and seeing
the forest like we are now.
I mean, do you know what,
it was a rise just like this.
It went up and then it
turned round to the...
It was, it was just like this,
seriously.
It turned round, and we stopped
about here.
Let's slow down, let's slow down.
Slow down, slow down.
SHE SPEAKS LOCAL LANGUAGE
Seriously, that was... We just
passed that river as well.
Yeah, let's stop here.
This is mad, honestly.
No, seriously, I never thought I'd
recognise this spot, let's...
Stop the car, that was probably it.
Do you want to check it out?
I do want to check it out.
OK, let's go and have a look.
Let's go back down, we need to walk
back down. Yeah.
Hold on, hold on.
I remember there was a stream.
The sound man was getting tetchy
about the sound of the water.
Debbie must have been right.
I absolutely distinctly remember it.
The car was parked about here.
The car was parked about here, and
they came walking up through here.
Yeah, this is it.
Honestly, I'd stake my
poodle's life on it,
and I love him more
than anything on Earth.
I do want some points though,
for being able to come back to,
you know, a remote part of Sumatra
after 20 years, and find a spot.
Only a nitwit with
Asperger's could do that.
Honestly.
CHRIS CHUCKLES
That encounter took place
somewhere just up there.
That's the same noise.
That noise...
This is it, this is the spot.
Look, someone's come in, started to
clear it, and put oil palm in.
We're within metres of where
I took that photograph.
It was just like this.
I...
There's no doubt of that at all.
I'm trying not to cry about it,
to be honest with you,
cos it's like... I never
believed that we'd find the spot.
So I, you know... I never
imagined we'd find the spot.
But it was here.
It's all coming back to me, just how
magical this encounter was,
and how important they still are
to me.
They have retained so much
of what we should be,
what we had been until everything
started to go so desperately wrong.
Someone went in there
and killed four of them.
That's immensely sad, isn't it?
To me, they were more
valuable than...
Well, certainly more
valuable than me.
To think they were here...
That was then. We've got to go and
find them now, that's the next
thing, isn't it, really?
They're not here today, are they?
And they couldn't be here today.
And why couldn't they be here today?
Oil palm.
Palm oil harvested from trees like
these now ends up in half of all the
products bought in
the world's supermarkets.
It's in everything,
from our biscuits, cakes,
to soaps and toothpaste.
Now, it might be profitable
for the farmers who harvest it,
but there's little left here for
hunter-gatherers to live off.
At twice the size of the UK,
Sumatra is an endless expanse
of remote and rugged terrain.
It's a huge place to be looking for
one woman, so I've asked Shinta
to find someone who can really
help narrow the search.
Hi.
Hello. Hello.
How do you do? I'm fine.
Chris Packham, how are you?
I'm Christiawan.
Christiawan? Yep, Christiawan.
Yeah, let's go sit down.
Christiawan is a field worker
for WARSI,
and they're a charity helping to
fight the Orang Rimba's cause.
Wow, look at that. Yeah.
Wow.
He's worked with the Orang Rimba
right across this region for ten
years.
How many in that Orang Rimba
are there left?
The total number of people?
Do you mean there were 3,000 people
like the people I met here,
living out in the forest?
That's good. The fact that they can
continue...
There is a big enough area of forest
for them to continue to live
in that way.
Can I show you some photographs of
the group that I met in 1998?
OK. The little glade, which we found
up the road.
That was all of those people
that we met that day.
I know these people were killed
before you started work.
Seven?
I thought there were four? Seven?
Yes, seven. Seven people were
killed? That's right, seven.
Three children?
Two. Two children out of that.
Yeah.
That's a lot worse than we thought.
Where the robbery took place?
Right.
So he might recognise them?
Yep. Maybe we can go to the village?
Well...
Whatever it takes.
In the grim light of this morning,
yesterday was a bit of a game
changer.
But I do feel that the odds have
been quite significantly, you know,
shortened, to be quite
honest with you.
The chances...
..of her being killed
are actually quite high.
Am I going to show that
picture to a man...
..in the village today who will be
able to identify her as one of those
that he pulled out
of the river?
Because that would be a...
..tragic end, wouldn't it?
I'm nearing Petekun.
On my map,
it's a remote Malay village,
a tiny dot in a vast expanse
of virgin forest.
If you look on here,
there are no roads,
you imagine this would all
be wilderness.
But you look out of the window...
Yeah. ..and there are lots of
buildings, villages, palm oil.
It's not forest, is it? Yeah.
The Orang Rimba would not survive
very long here.
It's shocking to see this ancient
rainforest, once so rich
with wildlife, virtually flattened.
And with no wild boar,
no deer to hunt,
none of the staples like cassava
or yam to forage for,
many of the food sources they need
to thrive are now heavily depleted.
Right. OK.
The robbery took place here? Yeah.
Right.
Are these the men?
Yeah, they're the men.
This is the person, the young man
that found a dead body in the river.
They know the exact spot, yeah?
Yeah. Let's get some water from the
car and then head out, shall we?
OK. OK.
HE SPEAKS LOCAL LANGUAGE
I'm told the girl's close-knit group
was headed by a man called Arau,
and I remember meeting him
really well.
But two years after that,
he must have decided to lead them
all close to this village.
Here.
In here? In here.
What about the other six?
Place with the stone,
they came out in there.
Just here? Yeah, in there.
Presumably they bought things in the
village, they traded in the village,
yeah?
The people who murdered them came
from the same village, is that
right?
Far from here. Far from here?
So what were those men doing here?
They tried to get
the money from Arau.
So they came here deliberately
to kill them? Yeah.
Oh...
Because they knew this family, if I
were to show them some photographs,
they might remember them, yeah?
He say if...
If I can see the photo...
..definitely, I can recognise him.
OK. Let's move over
to this rock here.
This man.
Is that Arau?
That's not Arau? Not the dead man
that was here?
No. All right.
This is the man that Debbie Martyr
thought had been killed.
And what about this lady?
That's Arau's daughter? So she was
definitely killed here? Yep.
The child that she's holding there,
is that her child,
the one who was killed?
This is Arau's wife,
also got killed.
What about the child?
This is...
..her daughter, so also got killed.
Seems everyone in my photographs
was murdered, doesn't it?
So, million-dollar question.
Was this girl one of the children
that was killed?
He said different, not the same
girl, not the same...
They're sure?
Well, that's a...
A blessing in disguise.
At least she wasn't among those
who were killed.
It's a tragedy, isn't it?
Whatever way you look at it.
It can't have been too long ago when
these people were able to sustain
themselves here in the forest
entirely in isolation.
But these days, they've got no
choice, there's not enough forest
left.
We've been cutting it all down,
we've been planting it with oil
palm,
and the villages are expanding,
so their habitat's gone.
And as a consequence, they have to
come to the villages because they
can no longer sustain themselves,
they haven't got enough resources,
and they need our support.
We are part of the problem.
If it wasn't for us, maybe,
idealistically,
they wouldn't be cutting
down as much forest,
these people would still have
a resource,
and they'd be out there and not at
the edge, where they're vulnerable,
where they're murdered.
In Petekun,
the murders are in the distant past.
And just as the surviving Orang
Rimba have clearly moved on and have
never come back, it's time for me
to move on as well.
I think the next step is to go and
find some of the Orang Rimba that
might actually know her, or more of
the people in that group.
And subsequently, I've learned that
they're spread over a huge area
of jungle.
So I think, you know...
..that's going to be difficult.
Finding her is going to be
a bit more tricky.
But I really, really want to now.
Yeah. I mean, I wanted to before
I came out here,
but now I really want to.
If we don't find her,
you're going to be getting on
the plane on your own. Yeah.
Christiawan tells me there's one
last area of forest for the Orang
Rimba to live in, which he assures
me is protected from deforestation -
the Bukit Duabelas Park -
it's 60 miles to the east.
I'm hoping that if the girl and her
surviving family fled the massacre,
then perhaps this is where
they would have come to.
Chris, look at this.
There's masses of oil palm...
25... That's a huge area.
It turns out that since I last came
here 20 years ago,
Indonesia's rainforests have been
cut down at the rate of over
200 football pitches every hour.
Christiawan tells me that most
of this is due to palm oil.
You see, Indonesia is now the
world's biggest producer,
and 70% of it comes from Sumatra.
By 2050,
it's predicted that Indonesia's palm
oil production will double due to
global demand, putting massive
strain on the island's
remaining rainforests.
It's very sad, isn't it?
Maybe 30, 40 years ago,
this was forest.
And now it's all gone? Yeah.
Apart from the reserve
we're going to? Yeah.
A few months after the murders,
Chris tells me this 600 square km
area of protected forest was set up
by the government when it
was realised that, soon,
there would be no forest left
for the Orang Rimba.
Hey, welcome. This is my office.
This is your office? Yeah.
I like your office. Yep.
It's pretty cool.
Wow, look at that.
It's very nice in the morning,
we can hear a lot of monkeys.
HE IMPERSONATES MONKEY
And what about the mast,
what's the mast for?
That's the radio.
You've got your radio station?
I think we should ask them to come
here and see if they recognise
the girl. Yeah. I like that. OK.
I've got to say, an Orang Rimba
radio station isn't exactly what
I was expecting. But it is of course
too good an opportunity to pass on.
So with the help of
Benor FM's Orang Rimba DJs,
word of this investigation is
going to spread far and wide.
Oh, look at that, that's so cool!
Yeah.
All the Orang Rimba area
listen to radio.
And you've given them little radios?
Yeah. Hi, how do you do?
How do you do? Hello, how do you do?
HE SPEAKS LOCAL LANGUAGE
Let's sit down here.
THEY SPEAK LOCAL LANGUAGE
He wants to know why have
you come to Sumatra?
I first came here in 1998,
and I met some Orang Rimba,
and I've come back to try
and find one of them,
who was a girl at the time,
maybe six, seven years old.
My idea is that we can pin this
photograph on the wall of the
office,
and if anyone who's listening
was in that area by the river,
the district border in 1998,
if they recognise this girl
when they come to the office,
they could let us know.
And we'd be very grateful.
We'll be here for another few days.
Today, I'm heading into the park to
see if we can find the girl amongst
the 1,500 or so Orang Rimba
who make their home here.
I've asked Christiawan to take me to
one of the families who he tells me
are still living their
traditional nomadic lifestyle.
But the truth is, I'm beginning to
worry that I'll never find her,
or that she might have died
after all.
Hello, Bebayang.
If I can help them find their food,
catch their food, cook their food...
OK. Tell them I'm not a great cook.
OK. I'm quite good with animals
and I've spotted a turtle down here.
Yeah, this turtle.
And these are food?
THEY SPEAK LOCAL LANGUAGE
It means yes. OK.
What means "no"? You better
teach me no pretty quickly,
cos if they offer me some of that
turtle for lunch, I'll need a no.
What's a no?
HE SPEAKS LOCAL LANGUAGE
That's no, that's no.
OK. What are they going to do
this afternoon?
They will be fishing. Fishing?
There was one thing before we go,
I'd like to see if he recognises
the girl, this girl.
This girl was about six or seven
in 1998.
No. OK, thank him
very much for his help.
And also for taking me fishing.
I'm not being funny, but...
..this stream is tiny.
This is the sort of stream that
I used to fish for minnows and
sticklebacks when I was a kid.
And it's going to have to be rammed
full of fish to replenish the energy
that I've expended on this walk.
Fishing in here.
Yeah? In this part? Yeah. OK.
Look at that. It's a good weapon.
Did he make this himself?
Yes. He did?
Oh.
It's good. OK.
OK. He found a big fish.
Big fish? Yeah.
He's got it, he's caught the fish!
Yeah, he got it.
Good shot. You caught a fish,
I caught the leech.
My leech is nearly as big
as your fish.
How many more fish can we catch?
Can I have a go?
You want to change
your glasses with him?
These are some of the best
goggles in the world!
These are good goggles.
The changes, you know, since I was
last here 20 years ago are profound.
You can almost see their habitat,
their resource just shrinking back.
We caught a big fish,
and it was this big.
Whereas 20, 30 years ago,
they were catching fish that were
seven or eight kilograms,
so they're going to be a fish
of this size.
As the evening begins to draw in,
it strikes me that although the
forest once gave him everything he
needed,
Bebayang and his clan are now
struggling to survive here,
because of the impact
of deforestation.
And I'm starting to think that there
must be many indigenous tribes like
the Orang Rimba all over the world
facing a similar threat.
It's pretty good, actually.
There's a bit of spring in it.
I mean...
And it's certainly sturdy enough.
And it's off the ground, snake-free,
it's hopefully leech-free.
Thank you.
There isn't a direct translation
for thank you in Orang Rimba,
but Chris told me earlier
that the expression they use is,
"I will drink your pee." So...
Thank you, gentlemen,
I will drink your pee.
I'll drink your pee.
At 1.47, a moped pulled up, and a
man on the back had a dead pig,
bush pig.
And this caused an enormous
amount of excitement.
They started to nibble,
recounting anecdotes of
yester-yore until it got light.
They are desperate to protect what
they've got left of their culture
and their lives.
But at the same time
they're living on the edge here.
There's a constant traffic
of mopeds across this track here.
They're connected
to the outside world.
This forest was everything
they needed -
it was their shelter, their food.
But it's changed now.
HE SINGS IN LOCAL LANGUAGE
That wasn't a happy song.
What was that about?
Who does he blame for
the loss of the forest?
Who's responsible? Does he blame me?
Does he blame us?
What will happen to Njarang
when he grows up?
Where does he think
that he will live?
OK. One child go out, and now
he is joining the army.
Yeah, his son.
He's not coming back?
Not coming back.
He's angry with his son?
He's angry with him.
Angry and sad and everything.
He needs to keep Njarang in the
forest, because he's the last son
who he has.
He hopes Njarang stay in the forest
to keep his family.
I hope that he lives a long life...
..and he can stay in the forest.
And that his son stays here too.
And when he finally dies, he can
be buried in the forest
under a big tree,
which will never be cut down.
When I see Njarang in this
environment with all that freedom
and confidence, that's how she was,
that's what she was like.
That was her world.
That was her.
He represents a sliver of hope,
a little sliver of hope that the
Orang Rimba's culture might just
remain intact.
But if nothing changes,
he could be one of the last humans
on our planet to live in total
harmony with nature. Because for the
past century, every year,
one tribe has become extinct.
I don't want the Orang Rimba
to join them.
Chief, I've got some gifts.
So there's a new machete.
Here's a couple of knives.
Chris, special for you.
Well, there we are. This is the
force of the forest.
The force of the forest? Yeah.
OK. Symbol to save the forest.
OK. The symbol to save the forest?
Yeah. OK. I promise to work hard
to help save this forest.
There's no question of that.
Thank you very much.
He's a brilliant man, it's been an
enormous privilege to meet him,
and to walk with him
through his home.
I'll always cherish my time here,
but I couldn't put my hand on my
heart and say that in 20 years,
he would definitely be here
somewhere in this forest.
That's the truth of it.
Bebayang has made it perfectly clear
that he blames the Indonesian
government for the destruction
of his forest.
And I want to find out exactly
what he means by that.
How did the villagers and the
company come to own the land?
How did they get the land?
So each household,
two hectares? Two hectares.
So basically they gave villagers
the Orang Rimba's forest?
Yeah. So they were sold out
completely?
Yeah.
Under its transmigration
policy in the 1980s,
the government encouraged millions
of people to move from the
neighbouring
island of Java to exploit Sumatra's
plentiful natural resources.
The majority of Javanese migrants in
this area took up the offer of free
land. Vast swathes of rainforest had
to be felled just so they could
farm palm oil.
Mr Osman is the villager
that came from Java.
He came from Java? Yeah.
Hello. Hello.
Chris Packham, English.
Osman. How do you do, Osman?
This tree's in food, isn't it?
Yeah. It's ready to cut?
Yes.
Chris, they cut them three times
a year, don't they?
One month, two times.
Two times in a month?
My goodness me. There's an enormous
amount of biomass here.
I mean, you know, this is one block
of fruits, it's incredibly heavy.
Well, that's got to weigh 15...
No, more, 20 kilos, I imagine.
And they're producing large
quantities of this.
If I squeeze it on my finger,
see all the oil?
It's that that makes it
so incredibly valuable.
Do you know how much palm oil
that you consume in a year?
Between seven and eight
kilos a year.
Seven and eight kilos a year.
Let's talk about the Orang Rimba.
Does he ever feel sorry that the
Orang Rimba's forest has gone,
and these people can't live the way
they used to live any longer?
How much money does he make?
Does he make enough for his
children to go to school?
Can he buy television?
I mean, what is his standard
of living like?
One of the justifications for moving
all of these people was to get them
out of poverty,
and to give them the ability to
exploit the natural resources that
were here. And it appears that's not
really working, then?
It hasn't solved poverty, has it?
I mean, who's making the money here?
Is the palm oil company rich?
I didn't meet the enemy today.
He's displaced as much as
the Orang Rimba are displaced.
You can't blame these people.
And what do you do? Do you, say,
scale back the palm oil?
And what happens? You've got to
scale back,
they're going to take away
your livelihood.
Doesn't work like that, you've got
to think of the bigger picture.
If you're going to take away
people's livelihoods,
you've got to offer them
another one.
We've got ourselves in a mess.
All of us, haven't we?
That's the truth.
Now I know there are people who
argue that palm oil isn't that bad,
and the alternatives like
soybean are far worse,
as they use ten times as much land
to yield the same amount of
vegetable oil.
And if I was to try and remove
it from my weekly shop,
is it really going to undo
all of this damage?
Well, palm oil has destroyed
so much forest here
that I just can't forgive it.
With just two days of this
trip remaining,
I'm now heading back
to WARSI's field office.
Sadly, there's no new
information about the girl.
But a new day yields
a possible breakthrough.
You see, in my absence,
the WARSI team has been out in the
field making inquiries on my behalf.
Christiawan and I are now heading to
meet some Orang Rimba who may have
a vital lead.
Just excited now, because this is
our best chance so far.
But we're making progress now.
This whole task is far greater
than I ever imagined it would be.
Chris tells me the Ali group were
living close to where the murders
took place in 2000.
But, respecting an Orang Rimba
custom that when relatives die,
they can't return to that spot,
they headed far off into the hills.
How do you do? How do you do?
Nice to meet you.
And this is Ali's wife.
How do you do?
This is Arau's sister. Yeah.
OK.
This is the group
that I met at that time.
They know these people?
They recognise this picture?
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
They know the people? Yeah.
Some of them remember.
So, many of these people
are still alive?
Like this man? This man, this man?
This is the girl I'm looking for.
Tell them this is the girl
I'm trying to find.
Daughter-in-law, Badai.
She is still alive.
She's still alive? Yeah.
How do they know it's definitely
her? Are they sure?
Is that him?
This is Badai? Badai.
This is Badai, and here,
she's sat in front of him here...
She is still alive.
It's amazing.
That's amazing.
They know exactly where she is.
And you know that? Yeah.
We can go there?
Yeah, we can go there.
Thank you.
Thank you very, very much.
Enormous thanks.
After everything, all the twists
and turns, the ups and downs,
we find out she's alive, we learn
her name, and then where she is.
To be able to find her is amazing.
I was elated yesterday when I heard
she was alive, absolutely elated.
But all night, I've had a sense
of real trepidation.
I'm sat here in this
sort of sterile,
sort of spartan hotel in the middle
of a bustling city, and I know
that she's an hour from here.
Which means she isn't in the heart
of one of those last remaining
fragments of rainforest.
I'm very excited,
but at the same time
very fearful of what's
going to unfold.
I've looked back at something that
I've held in such high esteem,
I've attributed such
enormous value to.
And I feel that today
it could be undone.
And that would be a
very painful process.
It's a palm oil plantation,
isn't it?
Yeah.
They live here? They live here.
This is their home?
This is their home, yeah. Right, OK.
You can see the blue tarp.
That's it, is it? Yeah.
All right, we are right here.
OK, let's do it.
It's so quiet.
When we met them, I remember
it was deafening,
because we were there
on the edge of the jungle.
Yeah, sounds completely different.
As you can see,
there's some women here, adults.
Yeah. Which one do you think is her?
Maybe you can...
I can't spot her.
Oh, I think she's
hiding behind the...
She's hiding? Yeah, I think
she's a bit shy.
No wonder I can't spot her.
Yeah. She's hiding in there? Yeah.
I can talk to her first, and then...
Yeah, OK.
Hello!
Chris, come.
Hello, Sumping. Nice to meet you.
20 years.
I know. It's amazing, isn't it?
She changed her name
after getting married.
Her name now is Bunga Mawar.
Bunga Mawar? Which is... Bunga
is flower, Mawar is rose.
Oh, is that right? Yeah.
Yeah. Yeah. This is her child?
Yeah. How many children
does she have?
Three. She has three children?
She has three, yeah.
So she has three daughters.
Ita is the oldest one.
This is Ratih.
Mereni's the smallest one.
Hello!
Well...
What about that?
20 years - it's so good
that they're here.
And look, they're all smiling.
The kids are happy.
We must get the photos out
and show them.
Chris. Badai.
My name is Chris.
Does Badai remember
where I met them?
He remembers? Yeah, he remembers.
And he remembers you still.
He remembers me? Yeah.
And he said you're still young
like that.
Tell him he's a very kind man.
These are the photos that
we took that afternoon.
That's him! That is him.
Young brother. That was his brother?
Wow.
One, two, three.
And then there's this photo,
which is the one that's
brought me all the way here.
This is the photograph.
THEY SPEAK OWN LANGUAGE
Having found her alive
against all probability,
it seems that Bunga Mawar is only
here because of one remarkable
stroke of luck shortly before
the murders took place.
Oh, really? Yeah. Why was that?
Yeah, it does.
So she's a complete orphan, so she
was orphaned when she was six or
seven?
If she'd been with her parents,
she'd have been killed?
Yes. Wouldn't she? Yeah.
Wow.
What about that?
She's lucky to be alive. Yeah.
I found the same woman...
..but I didn't find the same human.
Because these people, when I met
them, had a habitat, you know?
And now, look...
They're living in hell.
They're living in amongst the very
thing that has destroyed them.
Their shelters are built
under oil palm.
The rainforest gave them
everything they needed -
plenty of game to hunt and plants
they could trade outside the forest.
They were rich with resources.
And now they struggle
to fend for themselves.
And whose fault is it?
Well, I think it's our fault.
People like us are destroying
ecosystems all over the world.
As a people, they're destined
for extinction, aren't they?
And that's our story too, isn't it?
Because if we don't stop this
nonsense, you know, we've had it.
We've had it.
What is it that we're going to wait
for?
What punishment is going to have to
be exacted upon our species
before we get our act in order?
And when I look at that beautiful
woman, and I think,
"What's the world going to be like
for her in 50 years?"
And when I look at my stepdaughter,
and I think,
"What's her world going to be like,
you know, when she's 50?"
That's what makes me get up
and fight this destruction.
Because only if we fight it
do we stand any chance of success.
Look, it's crystal clear that it's
our consumption that's impacting
on their world.
Come on, Scratchy.
Now I'm back here,
aware of the silence of nature,
and the roar of mankind
in the background,
and I've been reflecting on my
journey and the Orang Rimba
that I've been so
privileged to meet.
For the girl, Bunga Mawar, well,
I would argue the battle's already
lost.
It was amazing to see her,
but tragic that she no longer has
the freedom of the forest that she
had when I first met her.
But I imagine the boy, Njarang,
out there in the quiet, listening,
fishing, being connected
in a way which...
..for all of my love
of this forest, you know,
I could never be that connected.
I think of Njarang and it brings
a smile to my face.
He's become my hope.
Maybe he's all of our hope, because
if we can reconnect with nature,
if we can work with nature
rather than against it,
then I think we've got a chance.
I think we've got a chance.
Come on, Scratcher.
My name's Chris Packham and I'm a
wildlife enthusiast and a
keen photographer.
Come on, let's go.
20 years ago I was filming a
documentary in the Sumatran
rainforests of Indonesia.
And there I had an encounter with a
tribe of hunter-gatherers.
They were called the Orang Rimba
and they lived in perfect harmony
with their jungle home.
And I've never forgotten them.
In many ways, that was one of the
greatest moments of my entire life.
I took one photograph that's become
particularly special to me -
a photograph of a young girl.
Her lifetime has coincided with some
of the biggest environmental changes
our world has ever seen.
And Sumatra has been at
the forefront,
with millions of hectares of
rainforest being destroyed so that
plantations of highly productive
crops can be grown in their place.
She's become a sort of
barometer for me,
a way of measuring the condition
of our planet.
If she is still out there, living
harmoniously in that environment,
then there's hope for us all.
But if we've robbed her
of her habitat,
then we really have got
something to fear.
So, 20 years on, I'm going back
to Sumatra to try and find her.
This is definitely the
right sort of terrain.
The photo is my only link.
This girl was about
six or seven in 1998.
I've no idea where she might be.
This whole task is far greater
than I ever imagined it would be.
I don't even know her name,
what's happened to her forest...
Ouch!
..and whether there is
still a place in it for her.
So, million-dollar question...
..was this girl one of the children
that was killed?
I'm determined to find out
what happened.
I've got one chance to see
whether these people still exist.
Yeah, here she is.
In 1998 in a sweaty glade
in Sumatra,
I found this one girl and her tribe
that were living entirely
harmoniously in that environment.
I had found in those people
what I've seen in other species
all of my life, and so admired.
What they needed was not any
possessions, it was their
environment.
That was the beauty.
Now, I don't know exactly what's
happened on the ground in Sumatra
over the last 20 years,
but I do know that my chances of
finding that girl and her tribe
thriving in those forests
are dwindling by the day.
I'd like to go back to that patch of
jungle and find that they were still
living there sustainably
in that forest.
That would give you some hope?
I think it would, yeah.
What if you don't find that?
Her situation might be
radically different.
This is so meaningful to Chris.
Very early on in our relationship,
I remember seeing that photograph,
I heard the story and it's always
been a feature of conversations.
A couple of years ago I was out in
Sumatra doing some conservation
work - often we were trekking
into the heart of the forests.
It was like a bit of a ghost town,
there was just no sign of life.
And how far away was the nearest
village, then, from...?
Oh, miles. We would make
an assumption
that the younger generation
would want to stay.
But would they, if they had
awareness of the outside world?
Would they want to gravitate
towards that?
You don't know, do you?
I'm excited for him going.
But I'm also kind of dreading him
coming back, you know, with bad
news.
I know he'll be devastated if he
comes back and finds that she is,
worst case scenario, no longer
alive, or no longer living as
she did.
I am... I'm worried about it
if you want to know.
But if it ends badly,
let's not hide from the fact.
Sometimes the harsh reality of the
world that we've made needs to be
presented to people.
You can't keep on covering up
the damage.
Sometimes it has to hurt.
And that hurt can stimulate people
to try and make a difference.
So if it's a catastrophe,
if there's no forest left...
..then that story must be told.
I wish I'd been Marco Polo because
when he came here in the 1200s,
this would have been a paradise,
you know.
But there might be little bits
of paradise left,
it may not all be paradise lost.
I'm arriving in the city of Padang.
Many of Sumatra's 50 million people
earn a living from the island's
rubber, coffee and palm oil trades,
all being grown in place
of its rainforests.
And the economy here has
exploded since my last visit.
The principal success here
is to find this girl,
who is now a woman, alive.
But not living in a shack on the
side of the highway or in some
condominium on the edge
of a city somewhere.
Searching for one woman on the sixth
largest island in the world is going
to be like finding the proverbial
needle in a haystack.
But fortunately, I'm sharing this
rather daunting task with local
producer Shinta.
Are we down here?
We're here.
We're just there, are we?
Right, OK. Now, the place that I
went to was Sungai Penuh.
We landed at Padang
and we had a long,
very torturous drive
to Sungai Penuh,
and there we met a lady
called Debbie Martyr.
Now, I've got a photograph
of Debbie here.
There she is. Oh, yeah.
She knew someone who knew
where they would be.
I think our first port of call
has to be to try and find Debbie
and see what she can remember.
I know she's still here
because my partner met her
a couple of years ago out here
when she was working with tigers.
I think that's a good call.
Debbie's hometown of Sungai Penuh
is 150 miles to the south.
It was where I based myself in 1998.
Has it changed a lot?
It was more forested over there.
So I remember those hills
having trees on.
And the market, I remember
the market being just here.
Yeah, yeah.
Shall we go there?
Yeah, let's go down here.
Sungai Penuh 20 years ago
was pretty off the map.
But now it's rocketed
into the 21st century.
Why do they allow mopeds
in here? That's crazy.
Yeah, I know. This is not
supposed to be like that.
This is madness. Chaos.
But it is the perfect place
to pick up some goodwill gifts
for the journey to come.
Shinta, I was thinking,
is there some things
that we should take?
Machete. Machetes? This one.
This one? OK, I'm going to shake
this man's hand.
Yes, that's a deal, yes,
that's good.
As captivating as Sungai Penuh is,
I'm desperately hoping the girl and
her people haven't been drawn out of
the forest by all of its bright
lights and trinkets.
Shinta, there you are. I'm just
asking. So we have to go there.
This way? OK.
I know the girl's tribe,
the Orang Rimba,
are nomadic and they can cover
vast distances on foot.
Fortunately, Debbie is in the same
house she was 20 years ago.
Debbie is the only one that can give
me a starting point on my quest,
really. Because I don't even know
where we went on the map.
And I need to know that much.
Debbie! Hello.
It seems like yesterday.
Hello, mate. How are you?
All right?
I've got a bit of a sore throat.
Sit outside shall we, here?
It doesn't seem like 20 years.
It's not that long, surely? 1998.
Seriously. I've got some photos,
actually, of that encounter.
A long time ago!
So look, here's the group,
here they are.
It was fantastic, wasn't it?
What an amazing afternoon.
Yeah. This was the girl
that I photographed.
Yeah. That's a beautiful picture.
This picture haunts me, Debbie,
I've got to say.
It was so, so magical.
The thing is, I'd like to find her.
I've worried about these people
for such a long time.
So much forest has been lost.
As the forest has shrunk it becomes
more and more difficult for them to
maintain that traditional lifestyle
and they end up on the fringes of
villages and the group you met got
mugged, for want of a better word.
It was a nasty, violent robbery.
Four people were killed
by these...sons of bitches.
Isn't that awful?
He was killed. He was killed?
Yes.
And was she killed? Yes.
So she was killed in
that too, was she? Yes.
But the little girl here,
I don't think so.
What do you think of my chances,
then, out of ten,
of finding this woman?
Let's go for three. Three?
Do you think that we won't find
her because she's dead,
or do you think that we won't find
her because she's moved off and we
just simply won't be able to
find her?
That I don't know.
Well, we're going to look.
You've got to.
You've got a way to go, boy.
The attack happened
in September 2000 -
that was two years
after I met the tribe.
It's desperately, desperately sad.
And piecing it all together,
they must've been forced out of the
jungle because of deforestation,
ended up too close to a village
where they were targeted by robbers,
and this tragically cost them
four of their lives.
There's a chance that the girl
would have survived that attack,
but in the aftermath, who knows?
She could have starved to death.
So, Debbie, here's the map.
So I'm going to try and find that
spot where we encountered them all
those years ago. How far do you
think we got along here?
Can you remember? Do you think we
met them on that road?
Yeah.
Right.
What do you think the chances are
then that any of those people remain
in that area?
You've got some fragments of forest
left for hunter-gatherers
to live in. Well, look, I'm going
to try and find this lady.
Blimey, what the...? Yeah.
There's some weather coming in.
Look at that. That's truly
Sumatran weather.
Good luck. Take care.
I'm heading east out of Sungai Penuh
into the interior in the hope that
the girl and her family are
still hunter-gatherers following
the well-trodden paths
of their ancestors.
I know it's a long shot,
but I might just find them in the
same spot I met them 20 years ago,
or at least if not them, some clue
as to their whereabouts.
Debbie thought that it was
somewhere in this valley.
Around here? Yeah, which is where we
are now.
That is that valley.
But in 1998 this road, which is the
main road, was a cinder road.
And I remember the shape
of the road -
it dipped down and then it rose up,
turned to the left,
went over a hill.
And we stopped just before
the top of the hill.
This is definitely the right
sort of terrain.
I remember all of these really
steep-sided hills and I remember
looking up and seeing
the forest like we are now.
I mean, do you know what,
it was a rise just like this.
It went up and then it
turned round to the...
It was, it was just like this,
seriously.
It turned round, and we stopped
about here.
Let's slow down, let's slow down.
Slow down, slow down.
SHE SPEAKS LOCAL LANGUAGE
Seriously, that was... We just
passed that river as well.
Yeah, let's stop here.
This is mad, honestly.
No, seriously, I never thought I'd
recognise this spot, let's...
Stop the car, that was probably it.
Do you want to check it out?
I do want to check it out.
OK, let's go and have a look.
Let's go back down, we need to walk
back down. Yeah.
Hold on, hold on.
I remember there was a stream.
The sound man was getting tetchy
about the sound of the water.
Debbie must have been right.
I absolutely distinctly remember it.
The car was parked about here.
The car was parked about here, and
they came walking up through here.
Yeah, this is it.
Honestly, I'd stake my
poodle's life on it,
and I love him more
than anything on Earth.
I do want some points though,
for being able to come back to,
you know, a remote part of Sumatra
after 20 years, and find a spot.
Only a nitwit with
Asperger's could do that.
Honestly.
CHRIS CHUCKLES
That encounter took place
somewhere just up there.
That's the same noise.
That noise...
This is it, this is the spot.
Look, someone's come in, started to
clear it, and put oil palm in.
We're within metres of where
I took that photograph.
It was just like this.
I...
There's no doubt of that at all.
I'm trying not to cry about it,
to be honest with you,
cos it's like... I never
believed that we'd find the spot.
So I, you know... I never
imagined we'd find the spot.
But it was here.
It's all coming back to me, just how
magical this encounter was,
and how important they still are
to me.
They have retained so much
of what we should be,
what we had been until everything
started to go so desperately wrong.
Someone went in there
and killed four of them.
That's immensely sad, isn't it?
To me, they were more
valuable than...
Well, certainly more
valuable than me.
To think they were here...
That was then. We've got to go and
find them now, that's the next
thing, isn't it, really?
They're not here today, are they?
And they couldn't be here today.
And why couldn't they be here today?
Oil palm.
Palm oil harvested from trees like
these now ends up in half of all the
products bought in
the world's supermarkets.
It's in everything,
from our biscuits, cakes,
to soaps and toothpaste.
Now, it might be profitable
for the farmers who harvest it,
but there's little left here for
hunter-gatherers to live off.
At twice the size of the UK,
Sumatra is an endless expanse
of remote and rugged terrain.
It's a huge place to be looking for
one woman, so I've asked Shinta
to find someone who can really
help narrow the search.
Hi.
Hello. Hello.
How do you do? I'm fine.
Chris Packham, how are you?
I'm Christiawan.
Christiawan? Yep, Christiawan.
Yeah, let's go sit down.
Christiawan is a field worker
for WARSI,
and they're a charity helping to
fight the Orang Rimba's cause.
Wow, look at that. Yeah.
Wow.
He's worked with the Orang Rimba
right across this region for ten
years.
How many in that Orang Rimba
are there left?
The total number of people?
Do you mean there were 3,000 people
like the people I met here,
living out in the forest?
That's good. The fact that they can
continue...
There is a big enough area of forest
for them to continue to live
in that way.
Can I show you some photographs of
the group that I met in 1998?
OK. The little glade, which we found
up the road.
That was all of those people
that we met that day.
I know these people were killed
before you started work.
Seven?
I thought there were four? Seven?
Yes, seven. Seven people were
killed? That's right, seven.
Three children?
Two. Two children out of that.
Yeah.
That's a lot worse than we thought.
Where the robbery took place?
Right.
So he might recognise them?
Yep. Maybe we can go to the village?
Well...
Whatever it takes.
In the grim light of this morning,
yesterday was a bit of a game
changer.
But I do feel that the odds have
been quite significantly, you know,
shortened, to be quite
honest with you.
The chances...
..of her being killed
are actually quite high.
Am I going to show that
picture to a man...
..in the village today who will be
able to identify her as one of those
that he pulled out
of the river?
Because that would be a...
..tragic end, wouldn't it?
I'm nearing Petekun.
On my map,
it's a remote Malay village,
a tiny dot in a vast expanse
of virgin forest.
If you look on here,
there are no roads,
you imagine this would all
be wilderness.
But you look out of the window...
Yeah. ..and there are lots of
buildings, villages, palm oil.
It's not forest, is it? Yeah.
The Orang Rimba would not survive
very long here.
It's shocking to see this ancient
rainforest, once so rich
with wildlife, virtually flattened.
And with no wild boar,
no deer to hunt,
none of the staples like cassava
or yam to forage for,
many of the food sources they need
to thrive are now heavily depleted.
Right. OK.
The robbery took place here? Yeah.
Right.
Are these the men?
Yeah, they're the men.
This is the person, the young man
that found a dead body in the river.
They know the exact spot, yeah?
Yeah. Let's get some water from the
car and then head out, shall we?
OK. OK.
HE SPEAKS LOCAL LANGUAGE
I'm told the girl's close-knit group
was headed by a man called Arau,
and I remember meeting him
really well.
But two years after that,
he must have decided to lead them
all close to this village.
Here.
In here? In here.
What about the other six?
Place with the stone,
they came out in there.
Just here? Yeah, in there.
Presumably they bought things in the
village, they traded in the village,
yeah?
The people who murdered them came
from the same village, is that
right?
Far from here. Far from here?
So what were those men doing here?
They tried to get
the money from Arau.
So they came here deliberately
to kill them? Yeah.
Oh...
Because they knew this family, if I
were to show them some photographs,
they might remember them, yeah?
He say if...
If I can see the photo...
..definitely, I can recognise him.
OK. Let's move over
to this rock here.
This man.
Is that Arau?
That's not Arau? Not the dead man
that was here?
No. All right.
This is the man that Debbie Martyr
thought had been killed.
And what about this lady?
That's Arau's daughter? So she was
definitely killed here? Yep.
The child that she's holding there,
is that her child,
the one who was killed?
This is Arau's wife,
also got killed.
What about the child?
This is...
..her daughter, so also got killed.
Seems everyone in my photographs
was murdered, doesn't it?
So, million-dollar question.
Was this girl one of the children
that was killed?
He said different, not the same
girl, not the same...
They're sure?
Well, that's a...
A blessing in disguise.
At least she wasn't among those
who were killed.
It's a tragedy, isn't it?
Whatever way you look at it.
It can't have been too long ago when
these people were able to sustain
themselves here in the forest
entirely in isolation.
But these days, they've got no
choice, there's not enough forest
left.
We've been cutting it all down,
we've been planting it with oil
palm,
and the villages are expanding,
so their habitat's gone.
And as a consequence, they have to
come to the villages because they
can no longer sustain themselves,
they haven't got enough resources,
and they need our support.
We are part of the problem.
If it wasn't for us, maybe,
idealistically,
they wouldn't be cutting
down as much forest,
these people would still have
a resource,
and they'd be out there and not at
the edge, where they're vulnerable,
where they're murdered.
In Petekun,
the murders are in the distant past.
And just as the surviving Orang
Rimba have clearly moved on and have
never come back, it's time for me
to move on as well.
I think the next step is to go and
find some of the Orang Rimba that
might actually know her, or more of
the people in that group.
And subsequently, I've learned that
they're spread over a huge area
of jungle.
So I think, you know...
..that's going to be difficult.
Finding her is going to be
a bit more tricky.
But I really, really want to now.
Yeah. I mean, I wanted to before
I came out here,
but now I really want to.
If we don't find her,
you're going to be getting on
the plane on your own. Yeah.
Christiawan tells me there's one
last area of forest for the Orang
Rimba to live in, which he assures
me is protected from deforestation -
the Bukit Duabelas Park -
it's 60 miles to the east.
I'm hoping that if the girl and her
surviving family fled the massacre,
then perhaps this is where
they would have come to.
Chris, look at this.
There's masses of oil palm...
25... That's a huge area.
It turns out that since I last came
here 20 years ago,
Indonesia's rainforests have been
cut down at the rate of over
200 football pitches every hour.
Christiawan tells me that most
of this is due to palm oil.
You see, Indonesia is now the
world's biggest producer,
and 70% of it comes from Sumatra.
By 2050,
it's predicted that Indonesia's palm
oil production will double due to
global demand, putting massive
strain on the island's
remaining rainforests.
It's very sad, isn't it?
Maybe 30, 40 years ago,
this was forest.
And now it's all gone? Yeah.
Apart from the reserve
we're going to? Yeah.
A few months after the murders,
Chris tells me this 600 square km
area of protected forest was set up
by the government when it
was realised that, soon,
there would be no forest left
for the Orang Rimba.
Hey, welcome. This is my office.
This is your office? Yeah.
I like your office. Yep.
It's pretty cool.
Wow, look at that.
It's very nice in the morning,
we can hear a lot of monkeys.
HE IMPERSONATES MONKEY
And what about the mast,
what's the mast for?
That's the radio.
You've got your radio station?
I think we should ask them to come
here and see if they recognise
the girl. Yeah. I like that. OK.
I've got to say, an Orang Rimba
radio station isn't exactly what
I was expecting. But it is of course
too good an opportunity to pass on.
So with the help of
Benor FM's Orang Rimba DJs,
word of this investigation is
going to spread far and wide.
Oh, look at that, that's so cool!
Yeah.
All the Orang Rimba area
listen to radio.
And you've given them little radios?
Yeah. Hi, how do you do?
How do you do? Hello, how do you do?
HE SPEAKS LOCAL LANGUAGE
Let's sit down here.
THEY SPEAK LOCAL LANGUAGE
He wants to know why have
you come to Sumatra?
I first came here in 1998,
and I met some Orang Rimba,
and I've come back to try
and find one of them,
who was a girl at the time,
maybe six, seven years old.
My idea is that we can pin this
photograph on the wall of the
office,
and if anyone who's listening
was in that area by the river,
the district border in 1998,
if they recognise this girl
when they come to the office,
they could let us know.
And we'd be very grateful.
We'll be here for another few days.
Today, I'm heading into the park to
see if we can find the girl amongst
the 1,500 or so Orang Rimba
who make their home here.
I've asked Christiawan to take me to
one of the families who he tells me
are still living their
traditional nomadic lifestyle.
But the truth is, I'm beginning to
worry that I'll never find her,
or that she might have died
after all.
Hello, Bebayang.
If I can help them find their food,
catch their food, cook their food...
OK. Tell them I'm not a great cook.
OK. I'm quite good with animals
and I've spotted a turtle down here.
Yeah, this turtle.
And these are food?
THEY SPEAK LOCAL LANGUAGE
It means yes. OK.
What means "no"? You better
teach me no pretty quickly,
cos if they offer me some of that
turtle for lunch, I'll need a no.
What's a no?
HE SPEAKS LOCAL LANGUAGE
That's no, that's no.
OK. What are they going to do
this afternoon?
They will be fishing. Fishing?
There was one thing before we go,
I'd like to see if he recognises
the girl, this girl.
This girl was about six or seven
in 1998.
No. OK, thank him
very much for his help.
And also for taking me fishing.
I'm not being funny, but...
..this stream is tiny.
This is the sort of stream that
I used to fish for minnows and
sticklebacks when I was a kid.
And it's going to have to be rammed
full of fish to replenish the energy
that I've expended on this walk.
Fishing in here.
Yeah? In this part? Yeah. OK.
Look at that. It's a good weapon.
Did he make this himself?
Yes. He did?
Oh.
It's good. OK.
OK. He found a big fish.
Big fish? Yeah.
He's got it, he's caught the fish!
Yeah, he got it.
Good shot. You caught a fish,
I caught the leech.
My leech is nearly as big
as your fish.
How many more fish can we catch?
Can I have a go?
You want to change
your glasses with him?
These are some of the best
goggles in the world!
These are good goggles.
The changes, you know, since I was
last here 20 years ago are profound.
You can almost see their habitat,
their resource just shrinking back.
We caught a big fish,
and it was this big.
Whereas 20, 30 years ago,
they were catching fish that were
seven or eight kilograms,
so they're going to be a fish
of this size.
As the evening begins to draw in,
it strikes me that although the
forest once gave him everything he
needed,
Bebayang and his clan are now
struggling to survive here,
because of the impact
of deforestation.
And I'm starting to think that there
must be many indigenous tribes like
the Orang Rimba all over the world
facing a similar threat.
It's pretty good, actually.
There's a bit of spring in it.
I mean...
And it's certainly sturdy enough.
And it's off the ground, snake-free,
it's hopefully leech-free.
Thank you.
There isn't a direct translation
for thank you in Orang Rimba,
but Chris told me earlier
that the expression they use is,
"I will drink your pee." So...
Thank you, gentlemen,
I will drink your pee.
I'll drink your pee.
At 1.47, a moped pulled up, and a
man on the back had a dead pig,
bush pig.
And this caused an enormous
amount of excitement.
They started to nibble,
recounting anecdotes of
yester-yore until it got light.
They are desperate to protect what
they've got left of their culture
and their lives.
But at the same time
they're living on the edge here.
There's a constant traffic
of mopeds across this track here.
They're connected
to the outside world.
This forest was everything
they needed -
it was their shelter, their food.
But it's changed now.
HE SINGS IN LOCAL LANGUAGE
That wasn't a happy song.
What was that about?
Who does he blame for
the loss of the forest?
Who's responsible? Does he blame me?
Does he blame us?
What will happen to Njarang
when he grows up?
Where does he think
that he will live?
OK. One child go out, and now
he is joining the army.
Yeah, his son.
He's not coming back?
Not coming back.
He's angry with his son?
He's angry with him.
Angry and sad and everything.
He needs to keep Njarang in the
forest, because he's the last son
who he has.
He hopes Njarang stay in the forest
to keep his family.
I hope that he lives a long life...
..and he can stay in the forest.
And that his son stays here too.
And when he finally dies, he can
be buried in the forest
under a big tree,
which will never be cut down.
When I see Njarang in this
environment with all that freedom
and confidence, that's how she was,
that's what she was like.
That was her world.
That was her.
He represents a sliver of hope,
a little sliver of hope that the
Orang Rimba's culture might just
remain intact.
But if nothing changes,
he could be one of the last humans
on our planet to live in total
harmony with nature. Because for the
past century, every year,
one tribe has become extinct.
I don't want the Orang Rimba
to join them.
Chief, I've got some gifts.
So there's a new machete.
Here's a couple of knives.
Chris, special for you.
Well, there we are. This is the
force of the forest.
The force of the forest? Yeah.
OK. Symbol to save the forest.
OK. The symbol to save the forest?
Yeah. OK. I promise to work hard
to help save this forest.
There's no question of that.
Thank you very much.
He's a brilliant man, it's been an
enormous privilege to meet him,
and to walk with him
through his home.
I'll always cherish my time here,
but I couldn't put my hand on my
heart and say that in 20 years,
he would definitely be here
somewhere in this forest.
That's the truth of it.
Bebayang has made it perfectly clear
that he blames the Indonesian
government for the destruction
of his forest.
And I want to find out exactly
what he means by that.
How did the villagers and the
company come to own the land?
How did they get the land?
So each household,
two hectares? Two hectares.
So basically they gave villagers
the Orang Rimba's forest?
Yeah. So they were sold out
completely?
Yeah.
Under its transmigration
policy in the 1980s,
the government encouraged millions
of people to move from the
neighbouring
island of Java to exploit Sumatra's
plentiful natural resources.
The majority of Javanese migrants in
this area took up the offer of free
land. Vast swathes of rainforest had
to be felled just so they could
farm palm oil.
Mr Osman is the villager
that came from Java.
He came from Java? Yeah.
Hello. Hello.
Chris Packham, English.
Osman. How do you do, Osman?
This tree's in food, isn't it?
Yeah. It's ready to cut?
Yes.
Chris, they cut them three times
a year, don't they?
One month, two times.
Two times in a month?
My goodness me. There's an enormous
amount of biomass here.
I mean, you know, this is one block
of fruits, it's incredibly heavy.
Well, that's got to weigh 15...
No, more, 20 kilos, I imagine.
And they're producing large
quantities of this.
If I squeeze it on my finger,
see all the oil?
It's that that makes it
so incredibly valuable.
Do you know how much palm oil
that you consume in a year?
Between seven and eight
kilos a year.
Seven and eight kilos a year.
Let's talk about the Orang Rimba.
Does he ever feel sorry that the
Orang Rimba's forest has gone,
and these people can't live the way
they used to live any longer?
How much money does he make?
Does he make enough for his
children to go to school?
Can he buy television?
I mean, what is his standard
of living like?
One of the justifications for moving
all of these people was to get them
out of poverty,
and to give them the ability to
exploit the natural resources that
were here. And it appears that's not
really working, then?
It hasn't solved poverty, has it?
I mean, who's making the money here?
Is the palm oil company rich?
I didn't meet the enemy today.
He's displaced as much as
the Orang Rimba are displaced.
You can't blame these people.
And what do you do? Do you, say,
scale back the palm oil?
And what happens? You've got to
scale back,
they're going to take away
your livelihood.
Doesn't work like that, you've got
to think of the bigger picture.
If you're going to take away
people's livelihoods,
you've got to offer them
another one.
We've got ourselves in a mess.
All of us, haven't we?
That's the truth.
Now I know there are people who
argue that palm oil isn't that bad,
and the alternatives like
soybean are far worse,
as they use ten times as much land
to yield the same amount of
vegetable oil.
And if I was to try and remove
it from my weekly shop,
is it really going to undo
all of this damage?
Well, palm oil has destroyed
so much forest here
that I just can't forgive it.
With just two days of this
trip remaining,
I'm now heading back
to WARSI's field office.
Sadly, there's no new
information about the girl.
But a new day yields
a possible breakthrough.
You see, in my absence,
the WARSI team has been out in the
field making inquiries on my behalf.
Christiawan and I are now heading to
meet some Orang Rimba who may have
a vital lead.
Just excited now, because this is
our best chance so far.
But we're making progress now.
This whole task is far greater
than I ever imagined it would be.
Chris tells me the Ali group were
living close to where the murders
took place in 2000.
But, respecting an Orang Rimba
custom that when relatives die,
they can't return to that spot,
they headed far off into the hills.
How do you do? How do you do?
Nice to meet you.
And this is Ali's wife.
How do you do?
This is Arau's sister. Yeah.
OK.
This is the group
that I met at that time.
They know these people?
They recognise this picture?
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
They know the people? Yeah.
Some of them remember.
So, many of these people
are still alive?
Like this man? This man, this man?
This is the girl I'm looking for.
Tell them this is the girl
I'm trying to find.
Daughter-in-law, Badai.
She is still alive.
She's still alive? Yeah.
How do they know it's definitely
her? Are they sure?
Is that him?
This is Badai? Badai.
This is Badai, and here,
she's sat in front of him here...
She is still alive.
It's amazing.
That's amazing.
They know exactly where she is.
And you know that? Yeah.
We can go there?
Yeah, we can go there.
Thank you.
Thank you very, very much.
Enormous thanks.
After everything, all the twists
and turns, the ups and downs,
we find out she's alive, we learn
her name, and then where she is.
To be able to find her is amazing.
I was elated yesterday when I heard
she was alive, absolutely elated.
But all night, I've had a sense
of real trepidation.
I'm sat here in this
sort of sterile,
sort of spartan hotel in the middle
of a bustling city, and I know
that she's an hour from here.
Which means she isn't in the heart
of one of those last remaining
fragments of rainforest.
I'm very excited,
but at the same time
very fearful of what's
going to unfold.
I've looked back at something that
I've held in such high esteem,
I've attributed such
enormous value to.
And I feel that today
it could be undone.
And that would be a
very painful process.
It's a palm oil plantation,
isn't it?
Yeah.
They live here? They live here.
This is their home?
This is their home, yeah. Right, OK.
You can see the blue tarp.
That's it, is it? Yeah.
All right, we are right here.
OK, let's do it.
It's so quiet.
When we met them, I remember
it was deafening,
because we were there
on the edge of the jungle.
Yeah, sounds completely different.
As you can see,
there's some women here, adults.
Yeah. Which one do you think is her?
Maybe you can...
I can't spot her.
Oh, I think she's
hiding behind the...
She's hiding? Yeah, I think
she's a bit shy.
No wonder I can't spot her.
Yeah. She's hiding in there? Yeah.
I can talk to her first, and then...
Yeah, OK.
Hello!
Chris, come.
Hello, Sumping. Nice to meet you.
20 years.
I know. It's amazing, isn't it?
She changed her name
after getting married.
Her name now is Bunga Mawar.
Bunga Mawar? Which is... Bunga
is flower, Mawar is rose.
Oh, is that right? Yeah.
Yeah. Yeah. This is her child?
Yeah. How many children
does she have?
Three. She has three children?
She has three, yeah.
So she has three daughters.
Ita is the oldest one.
This is Ratih.
Mereni's the smallest one.
Hello!
Well...
What about that?
20 years - it's so good
that they're here.
And look, they're all smiling.
The kids are happy.
We must get the photos out
and show them.
Chris. Badai.
My name is Chris.
Does Badai remember
where I met them?
He remembers? Yeah, he remembers.
And he remembers you still.
He remembers me? Yeah.
And he said you're still young
like that.
Tell him he's a very kind man.
These are the photos that
we took that afternoon.
That's him! That is him.
Young brother. That was his brother?
Wow.
One, two, three.
And then there's this photo,
which is the one that's
brought me all the way here.
This is the photograph.
THEY SPEAK OWN LANGUAGE
Having found her alive
against all probability,
it seems that Bunga Mawar is only
here because of one remarkable
stroke of luck shortly before
the murders took place.
Oh, really? Yeah. Why was that?
Yeah, it does.
So she's a complete orphan, so she
was orphaned when she was six or
seven?
If she'd been with her parents,
she'd have been killed?
Yes. Wouldn't she? Yeah.
Wow.
What about that?
She's lucky to be alive. Yeah.
I found the same woman...
..but I didn't find the same human.
Because these people, when I met
them, had a habitat, you know?
And now, look...
They're living in hell.
They're living in amongst the very
thing that has destroyed them.
Their shelters are built
under oil palm.
The rainforest gave them
everything they needed -
plenty of game to hunt and plants
they could trade outside the forest.
They were rich with resources.
And now they struggle
to fend for themselves.
And whose fault is it?
Well, I think it's our fault.
People like us are destroying
ecosystems all over the world.
As a people, they're destined
for extinction, aren't they?
And that's our story too, isn't it?
Because if we don't stop this
nonsense, you know, we've had it.
We've had it.
What is it that we're going to wait
for?
What punishment is going to have to
be exacted upon our species
before we get our act in order?
And when I look at that beautiful
woman, and I think,
"What's the world going to be like
for her in 50 years?"
And when I look at my stepdaughter,
and I think,
"What's her world going to be like,
you know, when she's 50?"
That's what makes me get up
and fight this destruction.
Because only if we fight it
do we stand any chance of success.
Look, it's crystal clear that it's
our consumption that's impacting
on their world.
Come on, Scratchy.
Now I'm back here,
aware of the silence of nature,
and the roar of mankind
in the background,
and I've been reflecting on my
journey and the Orang Rimba
that I've been so
privileged to meet.
For the girl, Bunga Mawar, well,
I would argue the battle's already
lost.
It was amazing to see her,
but tragic that she no longer has
the freedom of the forest that she
had when I first met her.
But I imagine the boy, Njarang,
out there in the quiet, listening,
fishing, being connected
in a way which...
..for all of my love
of this forest, you know,
I could never be that connected.
I think of Njarang and it brings
a smile to my face.
He's become my hope.
Maybe he's all of our hope, because
if we can reconnect with nature,
if we can work with nature
rather than against it,
then I think we've got a chance.
I think we've got a chance.