National Geographic USA 12.2021

BY PAGE

YVONNE ADHIAMBO OWUOR NO. 98

DATE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC

DEC. 2021 WELCOME TO EARTH

THE LOITA FOREST IS THE
HIDDEN SERENGETI, A PRISTINE
WILDERNESS SACRED TO
THE MAASAI. THE FOREST’S
OCTOGENARIAN PROTECTOR SEES A
MYSTICAL LANDSCAPE INCREASINGLY
THREATENED BY GREED.

RECENTLY I EMBARKED on a journey into the Seren-

R geti. It wasn’t the Serengeti you might envision,
not the postcard vistas of rolling, yellow-grass
savannas punctuated by umbrella thorn acacias.
And I didn’t stay in a luxury tented camp or join the armies
of tourist vans swarming around lion kills.
Instead, I traveled to Loita, a part of the greater Seren-
geti ecosystem that doesn’t appear on the standard
itinerary—a hidden Serengeti, if you will, one that
includes a lush mountain wilderness rising more than a
mile above sea level. It’s about a 150-mile drive southwest
from Nairobi and overlooks the world-famous Masai Mara
National Reserve. Yet it’s a place most visitors to Kenya
don’t know exists.
My plan was to make my way up into the heart of this
green fortress to a place known in the Maa language as
Entim e Naimina Enkiyio, or the Forest of the Lost Child.
It’s a 115-square-mile cocoon of unspoiled rainforest, a land
practically hidden in plain sight. Once there, I hoped to be
granted an audience with the man who oversees this realm.
First you must know that I live a world away from Loita,
in Nairobi. It’s a metropolis of some five million people. It

STORY PAGE

THE SPIRITUAL VOICE OF THE FOREST NO. 100

DATE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC

DEC. 2021 WELCOME TO EARTH

buzzes and hums as one of Afri- they’ve been guided by men who hold the title of oloiboni,
ca’s technological innovators, the all drawn from a clan endowed with exceptional temporal
nucleus of the so-called Silicon and spiritual abilities and schooled in natural and super-
Savanna. It’s one of the continent’s natural healing practices.
busiest transportation hubs, with
flights to and from four continents. To be the Oloiboni Kitok, the highest ranking oloiboni,
A place of gleaming skyscrapers is to sit between worlds as mediator, prophet, and seer; as
filled with companies from around intercessor and healer; as cultural liturgist and political strat-
the world. The UN’s Africa head- egist; and as keeper of good relations between humanity and
quarters are here, as are a plethora nature. More than 30 years ago, Mokompo ole Simel took on
of international media organi- that lifetime mantle of Supreme Oloiboni from his father,
zations busily broadcasting the becoming the 12th Oloiboni Kitok in his clan’s lineage.
continent’s stories. We endure hair-
pulling traffic jams and wonder It’s difficult to describe the full scope of his influence. He’s
about the local implications of the spiritual leader of more than a million Maasai who live
climate change. And of course, in Kenya and Tanzania. He’s sought out for blessings and
since 2020, the scourge of COVID- advice on matters big and small—from a family’s lost cattle
19 has dominated. to major conservation plans for Loita. Maasai from as far away
as Samburu in northern Kenya make the 200-mile journey to
I was feeling claustrophobic in Loita to see him. And it’s not just Maasai who seek his counsel.
Nairobi, and the chance to travel Politicians from other countries have solicited his blessings,
to Loita seemed a boon. But truth- advice, and help to curry favor with voters.
fully, it wasn’t just relief from the
city I was seeking; it was the chance Yet he’s not an easy man to see. You can’t just drive to Loita
to experience the world from a and find your way to the home of the Oloiboni Kitok. You
fresh perspective, an ancient and must be introduced, which is how I came to meet a friend of
timeless one. a friend named Mores Loolpapit, a doctor and public health
professional, a nonpracticing oloiboni, and, serendipitously,
THE MAN I HOPED the Oloiboni Kitok’s nephew.

T to see was a Maasai And that is how one midday in May, I came to sit on a car-
leader named Mo- pet of soft green grass festooned with tiny purple and yellow
kompo ole Simel, flowers, under a behemoth oreteti tree. The sky was blue,
also known as the and though it was sunny, an easterly wind sprinkled icy rain
Oloiboni Kitok (pronounced O-loy- droplets. Somewhere nearby, a donkey brayed.
BON-ee KEE-tok). In the centuries
since the Maasai migrated with Mores had guided me here via an eight-hour drive over
their cattle down from the Nile rough roads that gradually ascended to a mountain savanna
Valley and settled in eastern that is a gateway to Loita. It’s here at his homestead, a collec-
Africa, including the area they tion of mud-brick and thatched-roof buildings and animal
called the Siringet (“the place corrals, where the Oloiboni holds court and where I hoped to
where the land runs on forever”), ask for permission to visit Loita and to interview him.

I was one of two dozen visitors, including a five-man
delegation from Tanzania who’d arrived before dawn. We were
all received as pilgrims. Nobody was treated as a stranger.

TO BE THE From his home in Ken- Kitok. Following a long
SUPREME OLOIBONI ya’s secluded Loita line of such leaders, he
region, Mokompo ole encourages vigilance
IS TO SIT Simel has spent three against threats to
BETWEEN WORLDS. decades advising the the area’s old-growth
Maasai community on montane rainforest,
matters large and small urging humans to live
as its revered spiritual in harmony with nature.
leader, the Oloiboni
KEVIN OUMA, CINEMATIC KENYA

Tradition dictates that no guest comes empty-handed, and graze, dispatching another young
we had brought some household goods—flour, spices, coloring man to the market, and tasking his
books, and pens—to be offered to the Oloiboni’s wives and son—and heir apparent—Lemaron
children. I clutched four precious coffee seedlings, my own to extend healing services to calm
special tribute. We waited about two hours. three nervous visitors.

Finally the man appeared. In his wake, a tide of activities The Oloiboni supported his
erupted. A chorus of human voices greeted him, and the uneven steps with a thick, carved
gathered emissaries surged forward. A favorite calf hurtled stick. A dark blue woolen cap cov-
toward him, goats bleated, and in the distance a quintet of ered his head. He wore a red and
giraffes ambled by. blue Maasai cloak called an olkara-
sha. As he approached, he made eye
He was in his late 80s and moved with a slight stoop, ges- contact with those who waited.
turing like a symphony conductor, directing a herdsman
to which pastures his sheep, goats, and cows should go to His face was deeply lined, and

his golden-brown eyes were veiled may enter the forest. As for an interview, wait for his word.”
by cataracts. I rose to greet him. In I rose.
one extended glance he seemed to “Where in Mokompo’s forest will you go?” Mores asked.
read me, a quick assessment of all I hadn’t thought about specific locations. “The waterfall.”
my innermost virtues and short- “There are many,” he said. “Choose one.”
comings. It left me flustered and
suddenly exposed. T H E N E X T M O R N I N G , reinforced by the Oloi-

The Oloiboni’s voice was low and T boni’s blessing, we departed for our chosen
rasp textured: “You are here,” he waterfall. As we drove through a mist, I thought
said in Maa. about the legend from which the Forest of the
Lost Child gets its name. Once a Maasai girl
“I am,” I said. Following the Maa- looking for her stray calves entered the forest. The calves
sai custom, I bent my head so he returned home without her. Young men searched for the girl
would touch it in greeting. but couldn’t find her. The forest had decided to keep her.
When we arrived at the summit where our hike would start,
I then lined up the four coffee three junior elders were waiting for us. These scouts were
seedlings on the grass between stately, wiry men, watchful and taciturn, except for the gre-
the now seated Oloiboni and me. I garious Langutut ole Kuya, who recently had returned to Loita
don’t speak Maa and the Oloiboni from a camp in the Masai Mara. Our guides explained that as
doesn’t speak Swahili, so Mores the crow flies, our waterfall was roughly five miles away, which
had introduced me and indicated would mean a five-hour walk through a cascade of marshes.
he would interpret. As we began hopscotching among boggy reed islands, I
amused myself thinking about how the terrain reminded me
“Speak,” said the Oloiboni. of the Dead Marshes in The Lord of the Rings that J.R.R. Tolkien
And so, I told him a story about described as “an endless network of pools, and soft mires, and
how a wandering forest spirit winding half-strangled water-courses.”
became the coffee tree in the for- But after our third marsh passage, the novelty of imagin-
ests of the old Kingdom of Kaffa, ing this as a Middle-earth journey deteriorated into resigned
so it might live among the humans slogging. Our shoes were slathered in mud, and our pants
it doted on. How it took on a ther- legs were soaked. Staying dry wasn’t an option. Water was
apeutic role, stimulating conver- everywhere. Streams popped out of the ground like jinn, while
sations that would repair broken others stuttered and evaporated mid-flow. Water leaked from
relationships. How it worked to rocks or dropped as a long, single thread from high outcrops.
turn strangers into family. How All of it made its way into what appeared to be a swamp
it was a companion and liturgical but was really a meandering river, the Olasur. We traced its
presence that Orthodox monks in growth as it widened and deepened. The guides told us it
what was then Abyssinia (now Ethi- hosted fish, hippos, and, disturbingly, crocodiles. And then it
opia) consumed while communing disappeared into the forest, through a tunnel of overgrowth.
with God and the saints. As we crawled through the dense thickets, though we couldn’t
As Mores interpreted, the Oloi- see it, the sounds of its current became our beacon to follow.
boni listened with intensity. His After a while, we staggered into a spot the Maasai call “the
eyes appeared to lighten. I con- place of boiling waters”—slowly bubbling warm puddles fed by
cluded, “So we brought these to you geothermal springs. Chilled, I wanted to linger, but we had to
and this forest, if you agree, to place push on. Up and down we went, slipping down embankments
under your protection so that the of scree, pulling on vines to climb steep hillsides, then tum-
spirit might also find shelter here.” bling down mud trails, only to crawl up another hill.
Stillness. Bird chatter. Men mur- We squeezed past giant moss-covered boulders, pushed
mured. Waiting. through enormous spiderwebs, became overly familiar with
At last the Oloiboni offered the stinging nettles and red ants, and learned to quietly sidestep
smallest of nods. With an amused places where the guides sensed the presence of elephants and
tilt to his mouth, suddenly he buffalo. I did, however, manage to step in the dung of both.
turned his head. “Lemaron!” he Langutut was unperturbed by all of this. He noticed every-
called, followed by an exchange in thing: He pointed out the shapes of trees, the textures of leaves,
Maa. Mores translated, “The Oloi-
boni Kitok welcomes you. He blesses
this visit. You can go anywhere. You

NAIROBI Oloolkisailie SERENGETI’S HEIGHTS
Mts.
Ngong Hills The Loita region is a lesser known but integral
RIFT part of the greater Serengeti-Mara ecosys-
GREAT tem. It includes a lush forest a mile above sea
level that overlooks the Great Rift Valley. The
MAU isolated forest supports Maasai traditional cer-
ESCARPM E N T emonies and serves as a refuge for elephants
and other animals—far from the wildebeest
Ewaso Ngiro herds in the grassy plains below.

Lenkut o VAL LEY

Engare Ngiro
Swamp

Oloibortoto
to Entosapia N G U R U M A N Kalema
asur
ESCARPMENT
si
L ( O I T A a i m F O R E S T Pago

En ti me N ina E nk iyi o)

Narosura Morijo Ol
Entasekera
Loita Hills

Naikara Lesai

Olmesutye

Loliondo Hills

KTEANNYZAANIA Bololedi

Soit Sambu

Sand

S E R E NN AS ENTRAIMEOTANNIOSGAANEILATMLIPAARRERASKERVE Ololosokwanrumeti K E N YA

GETI G AREA
ENLARGED
PL AIN
Nairobi
N SCALE VARIES IN THIS PERSPECTIVE. DISTANCE FROM THE
LOITA FOREST TO NAIROBI IS APPROXIMATELY 65 MILES. Loita Forest
CHRISTINE FELLENZ, NGM STAFF. RELIEF: ERIC KNIGHT. SOURCES: JAXA; OSM; PLANET NICFI TANZ.

the patterns of lichens on rocks, where the Oloiboni conducts the most private ceremonies.
the position of a fallen tree, breaks I learned elemental Maa words—ewang’an (light) and oloip
in branches, scratches on bark. He (shadow). My ears filled with birdsongs, wind whispers, the
paused over myriad kinds of dung whistle and click of insects and other creatures, the rhythm of
and indicated what creatures had raindrops hitting leaves. My nose filled with scents of pungent
left them. He talked about the flight earth—rust, rot, citrus, and mint.
paths of insects and birds, the inten-
sity and temperature of the wind, One of the guides noted a hornbill honking and a change
the texture of the light that comes in the timbre of a colobus monkey’s gro-gro-gro. These were
through the canopy, the scent of rain signals. We picked up our heavy steps.
things, the breathing of plants, the
meaning of silences. Finally we emerged above a vertiginous valley lined with
cliffs of brown stone flecked with white. Blue, white, green, and
As I walked, my concentration pale yellow butterflies quivered around us, signaling the end of
began to narrow to what was in front the rainy season. A large bird of prey circled overhead. Below
of me. How the soil changed from us at last was the waterfall, the Olasur tumbling from a rock
dark brown to bright red and then tunnel, falling some 600 feet into a chasm beneath the foliage.
to almost black, and then sand and Farther on, Langutut said, it would join the Oloibortoto River
loam and then orange, and back to and, left to its natural course, would end up in Lake Natron.
dark and pale browns. I began to see
patterns in leaves and shadows. But we could not stay. We had to make our way back
through the forest before nightfall, before mist obscured
We encountered several swarms the marshes. And as we trekked out of the forest, I learned
of bees. “This is also called the another Maa word when we glimpsed the fullest, biggest, and
honey forest,” Langutut said, not- brightest of moons. Olapa.
ing the abundance of flowering
bushes. He pointed at a grove he When we reached the guesthouse, the Oloiboni had left
identified as nursery trees. word: He would speak with me in the morning.

“Trees grow in families,” he said. A B ROW N - F E AT H E R E D C O C K E R E L carried a locust
“Older trees nurture and guide
young trees. They share friend- A in its beak as it strutted in the Oloiboni’s com-
ships among themselves and pound. Cows and goats ambled off to pasture
with people.” with a young guardian. Still brimming with
the experiences from the forest, I sat beneath
He described the practical, the giant oreteti tree to wait.
medicinal, and spiritual power The Oloiboni’s eyes lit up when he saw me. I can’t deny that
of some of the trees—the oreteti, I felt his aura. Call it pure charisma, or possibly the effect of all
podo, wild olive, and date palm. the legends I’d heard mixed with the wonder of the previous
day’s journey. Or perhaps it was the joy of stumbling upon a
As we hiked, he mentioned other leader with an unwavering allegiance to the natural world. I
secret spaces within the forest—cav- saw a symmetry between the Oloiboni and his oreteti—both
erns that held pure streams and art grounded, ancient, and mysterious, both offering shade and
inscribed on their walls. He talked shelter to those who seek them out.
about a cathedral of giant trees Our conversations meandered like the Olasur. He referred

STORY PAGE

THE SPIRITUAL VOICE OF THE FOREST NO. 104

DATE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC

DEC. 2021 WELCOME TO EARTH

WE SPOKE ABOUT settled over him. I should’ve asked,
THE LAND: What did it say? But instead, I
turned the conversation to the
‘IF WE LOSE THE LAND, changing climate.
WE LOSE THE CULTURE.
“I’ve heard such things,” he said.
LOSE THE CULTURE, Have you seen the seasons
LOSE THE PEACE. change here?
LOSE THE PEACE, “The cold hits harder and more
LOSE THE COMMUNITY. often, that’s true.”
LOSE THE COMMUNITY, What about drought?
LOSE OUR WAY OF He frowned. “Just once, five
LIFE. FOREVER.’ years ago. But that was the conse-
quence of our misdeeds. We had
—THE OLOIBONI KITOK raised fences. We fixed that error.”
The weaver trilled again.
to the lineage of his predecessors and his progeny. He Do you have a message for a
described what it meant to be the Oloiboni Kitok: It was not a humanity that is confused by this
choice. He was born into the position. He spoke of “his” forest: changing climate?
It is a shrine and cathedral, a refuge and fuel source. It’s the A long pause. “What can I say?”
garden of God, the “guesthouse of rain.” It is school, supermar- he finally answered with a humor-
ket, hospital, pharmacy, and nursing home. Human perfidy ing smile. “As temporary guests of
threatens it—gluttony, pride, lust, and envy, in particular. this home called life, in this house
that is Earth, shouldn’t we know by
The Oloiboni told of wave after wave of incursions by now how to behave honorably?”
outsiders: shady government officials, faux preachers, and For the Maasai, he explained, this
eager developers. They all spoke in subtle but deadly terms: meant adhering to olmanyara. It’s
fences, demarcation, title deeds, bank loans, road through the a difficult term to translate. On a
forest. He alluded to ceaseless plots, particularly from deep- previous night around a campfire,
pocketed international conservation groups that purported Mores described olmanyara as an
to tell the people—the Iloitai—what was best for Loita. ethos that is less about conserva-
tion and more about custodianship.
We spoke about the importance of the land. “If we lose It’s about receptivity to nature, of
the land, we lose the culture,” the Oloiboni said. “Lose the being aware of and hospitable to
culture, lose the peace. Lose the peace, lose the community. existence in its every form.
Lose the community, lose our way of life. Forever.” Thunder rumbled in the distance.
It was raining in the Mara, a prelude
We sat in silence. I saw an elderly Atlas, holding up not for the primordial animal migra-
just the heavens but also his Earth. A weaver bird trilled tions to resume.
insistently. The Oloiboni looked in its direction. Tranquility “Are you ever afraid of the
future?” I asked.
“Should I be?” he teased. Quickly,
the elder swerved, and I was a stu-
dent again. “Now you’ve been to
our forest. What did you see?”
“My ignorance,” I said. “I had
thought of the forest as only trees.”
The Oloiboni laughed. It was
a mirthful sound. It made every-
one laugh too. “What else did
you see?” j

Yvonne Adhiambo Owuor, based in
Nairobi, is author of the novels Dust
and The Dragonfly Sea.

P H OTO ESSAY: TH E WI L DL I FE

A FIGHT TO SURVIVE

106

IN A LAND OF Tire tracks left by wildebeest herds calv- here struggle to find
PLENTY AND PAUCITY, tourist-filled safari ing nearby—the new- enough prey, and some
THE NEXT MEAL vehicles etch a dusty borns are especially inevitably starve to
expanse where lions vulnerable. Later in the death. It’s the boom-
IS EVERYTHING. rest in Tanzania’s Hid- year, when the herds and-bust cycle of the
den Valley. It’s March, have followed the Serengeti region that
and these apex pred- rains north in search of predators of the plains
ators have fed well on better grazing, lions live and die by.

Guides in Kenya’s
Masai Mara National
Reserve dubbed them
the “Magnificent Five.”
These male cheetahs
hunted together for
more than four years.
Males normally are
competitors, but the
species is social and
highly adaptive—and
these animals stayed
together for as long as
they benefited from
the alliance.





Play fighting with trunks over each other’s
others close in age is heads or lay an ear
one in a repertoire of over another’s head or
social behaviors adult rump. They show def-
male elephants display. erence to a dominant
Hanging out together male by approaching
at a water hole, they him and placing the tip
might drape their of a trunk in his mouth.

WHEN THE SUN GOES Spotted hyena cubs the Serengeti, helping
DOWN IN THE MASAI MARA, emerge from their to control the distribu-
IT’S TIME den at sunset. Mostly tion and population
nocturnal, hyenas are of prey species. Cubs
TO GO HUNTING. hunters as well as are born with eyes
scavengers and are a open, teeth intact, and
keystone carnivore in muscles ready to go.

PHOTO ESSAY: THE WILDLIFE PAGE

A FIGHT TO SURVIVE NO. 115

Fights for dominance
between male zebras
can be savage, espe-
cially when a female
is at stake. Stallions
do battle with hooves
and sharp teeth. A
violent encounter
might end with a
cracked skull, broken
bones, a bitten-off
tail, or even death.





To protect its prey
from an aggressive
hyena or a hungry
lion, this leopard has
carried its impala kill
into a tree to eat in
peace. Leopards, shy
and elusive, look for
sturdy forked branches
to support them. One
slip, and a fresh kill
could fall within reach
of other predators.

RIGHT PAGE

Tourism adds a layer NO. 120
of complexity to the
Serengeti ecosystem.
On the day photogra-
pher Charlie Hamil-
ton James captured
this image in the Masai
Mara, he counted 48
cars nearby. Cheetahs
are more docile than
other big cats around
humans, so it’s not
unusual to find one
napping in the shadow
of a safari vehicle. In
fact, there’s little in the
cats’ daily routines,
including hunting,
that doesn’t involve
a human audience.

BELOW RIGHT

The chase usually
doesn’t last long when
cheetahs home in on
prey. They can accel-
erate from zero to 60
miles an hour in three
seconds. Here two
cheetahs have sprinted
into action to attack
a pair of wildebeests
that separated from
their herd. The end
is not a certainty,
however. Cheetahs kill
their prey less than
half the time, and
wildebeests can gallop
up to 50 miles an hour,
sometimes zigzagging
as they flee.

THEY’VE GROWN UP
WITH CARS AROUND THEM AT EVERY TURN,
BUT ALL THE GAWKING
HASN’T SLOWED DOWN THESE CHEETAHS.

PHOTO ESSAY: THE WILDLIFE

A FIGHT TO SURVIVE



The coalition of
cheetahs known as the
Magnificent Five has
taken down a wilde-
beest. Typically, one
cat topples the animal,
and the others then
maintain a strangle-
hold on its neck until
the prey suffocates.
Always on guard, chee-
tahs must watch for
bullying thieves such
as lions and hyenas.





Vultures feed on a
wildebeest carcass.
Essential to the eco-
system, these birds
clean up remains faster
than other scaven-
gers, reducing the risk
of disease spreading
to other animals or to
people. Billions of flies
travel with migrating
herds, looking for a
share of downed prey
and a chance to lay
eggs in the carcasses.

RIGHT

Hippopotamuses wal-
low at sunrise in a river
in the Masai Mara.
They spend up to 16
hours a day in rivers
and water holes, where
they sleep together
in pods of 10 to 30 to
protect their young,
which are especially
vulnerable to croco-
diles. At night they
graze, traveling as
far as six miles and
consuming about 80
pounds of grass. The
dung they produce is
rich in nutrients that
maintain the health
of African rivers and
benefit many species.

BELOW RIGHT

Impalas face not only
predators but also
competitors. Young
males practice com-
bat early; when they’re
older, they stake out
territories and guard
groups of female
mates. When forced to
flee the lions, leopards,
cheetahs, and hyenas
that prey on them,
impalas can jump as
far as 33 feet and
as high as 10 feet.

FEELING THE SQUEEZE PAGE
FROM SHRINKING HABITATS AND CLIMATE CHANGE,
ANIMALS BIG AND SMALL NO. 126
STRUGGLE IN THIS FRAGILE ECOSYSTEM.

PHOTO ESSAY: THE WILDLIFE

A FIGHT TO SURVIVE



Turning their backs
to the rain, a herd
of impalas—females,
their offspring, and
one dominant horned
ram—wait out a shower.
These ruminants rely
mostly on auditory
cues to detect the
movement of preda-
tors. With rain muffling
sounds and limiting
visibility, the group
is at ease.



Two male lions feed
at dawn on an eland—
the largest of all the
antelope—that they
killed the night before.
A crowd of vultures
lurks nearby. The
vultures had to wait
to dive in; this pair of
big cats was observed
feeding on the carcass
for three days.



THE STAKES ARE HIGH A male giraffe feeds tongues help them
on an acacia tree, its scour the branches.
FOR ANIMALS AND favorite meal. Full- Like all creatures in the
HUMANS IN A LANDSCAPE grown animals can eat ecosystem, Earth’s tall-
LIKE NO OTHER. more than a hundred est land mammal must
pounds of leaves a vie for territory in a
day, and their 20-inch shrinking habitat.

PHOTO ESSAY: THE WILDLIFE PAGE

A FIGHT TO SURVIVE NO. 133

THE FRESH EXPLORER

BY

JACQUELINE CUTLER

Volcanologist Jeffrey John- WELCOME TO EARTH sounds like a greeting to aliens—
son (at left), Will Smith, and
explorer Erik Weihenmayer W which most of us might as well be, considering how
prepare to descend into little we know about our planet.
Yasur Volcano, in Vanuatu.
Actor Will Smith sets out to explore its far reaches
Welcome to Earth, a Disney+
original series from National in Welcome to Earth, a Disney+ original series from
Geographic, premieres
December 8. National Geographic. Three years ago, Smith led another National

Geographic series about Earth’s wonders, One Strange Rock. This

time the host leaves the studio to venture into some of the planet’s

most extreme environments—deep seas, deserts, glaciers—with

a diverse group of researchers and adventurers.

Over six episodes, Smith proves game for anything, even if ini-

tially wary. “My grandmother used to say all the best things in life

lived on the other side of fear,” he says. “I sure hope Gigi was right.”

Although uncomfortable in water, Smith folds his lanky frame

into a small yellow submersible in the Bahamas. He likens the ves-

sel to something out of Star Wars. As he and National Geographic

Explorer and marine biologist Diva Amon descend, sunlight

becomes a memory. A Trinidadian who grew up snorkeling, Amon

explains that more than 99 percent of the undersea world remains

ARMED WITH HIS GRANDMOTHER’S
GUIDANCE ABOUT FACING FEARS,

ACTOR WILL SMITH TREKKED TO
EXTREME ENVIRONMENTS.

PAGE

NO. 135

unexplored. “We have better maps of Mars, Venus, and the moon The National
than we have of our own ocean floor,” she says. Geographic
Society, committed
As the craft descends, a cliff looms. “We have no idea how tall to illuminating
this is,” Amon says. “Before now, no one has been here.” Smith and protecting
asks if he gets to name the discovery, following “explorer rules.” the wonder of our
He dubs it the Fresh Peak—a nod to the Fresh Prince, his rapper world, has funded
name in the 1980s and hit TV show in the ’90s. Explorer Diva
Amon’s work in
After they reach the ocean floor, some 3,300 feet deep, the sub- deep-sea biology.
mersible’s lights are cut and they are in total darkness. Moments
later, marine life sets off a fabulous show of bioluminescence, the bombs” of molten lava explode from
light emissions created by living organisms. “It’s probably the deep below the surface. Weihenmayer
most common form of communication on the planet,” Amon says. likens it to “the most insane fireworks
show you can imagine on Earth.”
Ari Handel and Darren Aronofsky, co-executive producers of
Welcome to Earth, have collaborated since they were roommates A volcanologist leads them down
at Harvard. Now they’re teamed with creative executive producer the crater’s walls to install sensors that
Jane Root and focused on how science—even a discussion of slime will record the volcano’s rumblings. “It
mold—has the power to fascinate. As for Smith, Handel sees his role sounds like the beginning of a really
this way: “He’s there to be us, except that of course he’s Will Smith, bad joke,” Smith says. “A rapper, a blind
so he’s more charming, more articulate, funnier.” man, and a volcanologist rappel down
into a volcano ...”
The adventures in each episode are enhanced by Smith’s relatable
reactions. “He has dived into those experiences with an openness When filming for the series moves
and a kind of humility of the wonders of the world,” Root says. to the Serengeti in Tanzania, Smith’s
easy presence breaks the tension of
Whether staring into a gorge in Namibia or surveying a glacier what’s known as the wait. He passes
in Iceland, for Smith, curiosity trumps terror. In a helicopter with time by singing.
adventurer Dwayne Fields, Smith admits he was a bullied, fearful
kid. Fields speaks of his own difficult youth, when he fell in with Smith says he’s wanted to witness
gangs in London. After a gun aimed at him misfired—twice—Fields the great migration since reading a
resolved to change his life. He set challenges; today he’s hailed as story in this magazine some 30 years
the second Black man to reach the North Pole. ago about the million-plus wildebeests
and their journey across the plains.
Fields’s confidence outweighs Smith’s hesitance in Iceland when
they inch down a hole in the glacial ice to explore where meltwater As the first wildebeest gingerly
goes. Later, outfitted in waterproof gear to protect them from the ventures into the Mara River, a giant
frigid waters, they paddle a kayak down a river formed by the crocodile strikes. The rest of the
converging meltwater, braving rapids along the way. ungainly mammals pause but even-
tually cross. Smith observes from a
Smith did no special training for the assignments. “Risk assess- jeep on the riverbank, spellbound.
ment is an enormous part of what the team does,” Root explains.
“How do we do this and get you back alive?” “Growing up in the city, I wasn’t
exposed to a ton of nature—especially
The Iceland team was part of a 700-member crew working in not like this,” Smith says. “This was a
34 countries. As the pandemic complicated travel, producers
considered shooting at Smith’s house. whole new world for me.” j

“We would have had as exciting an episode in Will’s backyard as we Journalist Jacqueline Cutler regularly covers
would have had in any of these far-flung places,” Aronofsky insists. television and books. She previously wrote
about the National Geographic television series
Still, exotic locales make for exciting TV. Erik Weihenmayer, a Genius: Aretha and Secrets of the Whales.
blind explorer, and Smith stand at what looks like a portal to hell—the
rim of Vanuatu’s Yasur Volcano in the South Pacific, where “spatter

PHOTO: KYLE CHRISTY, NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC FOR DISNEY+. ILLUSTRATION: JOE MCKENDRY

WHAT’S COMING

DECEMBER

TV

HOT ZONE: ANTHRAX

Just weeks after Sep-
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lawmakers and media
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