BLOODY
SUPERSTITION AND BOLD NEW PHILOSOPHY
Georgia
Straight Magazine
April
1997
Pessimist
give the world's tigers 5 years. Realists, 10.
They're
the kind of numbers that make you want to quietly despair, to give
up, to flip the channel and think about something more pleasant.
Melrose Place maybe, or Roseanne. Mark Lee, however, whether
from a sense of conceit, ignorance, or a staggering sense of
confidence, saw nothing impossible in the task of bringing the tiger
back from the brink...
...
To highlight the extent of Vancouver's tiger trade, Lee kicked off a
media blitz in January 1996. Local journalists were invited on
an endangered species tour through Chinatown's apothecaries.
The tour began in the low-ceilinged warren that serves as WCWC's
headquarters. Lee upended his briefcase, spilling out 15-20
boxes of Chinese patent medicines: tiger plasters, tiger pills,
tiger-based medicaments for rheumatism, tired blood, soft bones, and
sexual impotence, all of them purchased in shops in Vancouver's
Chinatown. Pointing to the ingredients lists on the diverse
packages, Lee picked out the symbols, words, and phrases that in
Latin, English and Chinese spelled out “tiger bone”.
The
next part of the tour was a trip along Pender, Main and Keefer
Streets, with Lee indicating here and there the shops and
apothecaries dealing in tiger medicinals and inviting journalists
to go in and check the shelves for themselves. Six shops out of
10 stocked a variety of boxes, cartons and bottles labeled with some
variation of the word Os Tigris - tiger bone.
The
media loved it. Lee made it on to TV news both locally and
nationally, and stories appeared in city magazines and community
papers. He used his pulpit to heap scorn upon Canadian wildlife
regulations. “Canada's wildlife laws could use an
aphrodisiac,' Lee said, “because right now, they're totally
impotent.”
He
was equally hard-hitting in his presentations to Chinese community
groups and at Eastside Vancouver high schools. Traditional
Chinese medicine's use of parts of animals like tigers and
rhinos, Lee said, and the cutting of many urban trees for that
matter, were based on nothing but pure superstition. That
superstition was destroying a magnificent species. The fact
that the practice was tolerated by the Chinese-Canadian community
only blackened their reputation in mainstream Canadian society.
Environmentalists
heaved a sigh of relief. Here was someone tackling a problem
they had long known about but dared not touch. “It's great
that it's a Chinese person doing the work he's doing.” said
Nathalie Chalifour, World Wildlife Fund Canada's tiger expert,
“because when it's a person like me doing it, well, I'm white; I'm
more likely to be accused to being racist, which is really
unfortunate, but it does happen.”
Vancouver's
Chinese media were as quick to jump on the story as their English
counterparts. Lee's campaign was covered by both the Ming Pao
and the Sing Tao newspapers, and he appeared on several Chinese
language radio programs. According to Ming Pao columnist
and CJVB radio host Gabriel Yiu, the Chinese community's reaction to
Lee's campaign was mixed. His straight talk on superstition did
offend some, but there was also those who took pride in the fact that
a Chinese Canadian was working on environmental concerns. “For
a long period of time when people are talking about monster homes,
tree cutting, killing wild animals for some of their body parts,”
Yiu said, “people do have the impression that the Chinese community
is the cause of that. I think the work Mark did set a very good
example that we do have people in the Chinese community who are
concerned about these issues.”...
According
to Vancouver city councilor Don Lee, Lee's effectiveness was
limited... “I don't know Mark Lee that well. The Chinese
Community doesn't know him well at all,” Lee said. “We
don't know where he comes from. We don't know why he's doing
all this.” As it turns out, those are two of the most
interesting questions that could be asked about Mark Lee.
Born
in February 1944, in southern China, Mark Seeu-Sung Lee fled to Hong
Kong along with the rest of his family shortly after the Communist
revolution. Family legend has Lee's father burning the deeds of
the family's extensive land-holdings for a moment's warmth during the
first refugee winter...
(In
1965), Lee came to Canada to study science at the University of
Manitoba... At the same time, his relationship with a Hong Kong girl
fell to bits when she dropped him on orders from her parents.
Lee has never forgiven Chinese culture for the snub. “As a
result of that incident, I have never dated a Chinese girl again,”
Lee said. It's a decision that isolated him somewhat from the
Chinese community, but, according to Lee, it also allowed him to
integrate more fully into Canadian society than other Chinese
immigrants of his generation.
In
1966, Lee switched over to the physics department of the University
of British Columbia. His summers he spent in the bush in
northern Manitoba and British Columbia, working as a geologist's
assistant. It was work that can only be idealized by someone
who has never done it. Lee said, “The student is the
geologist's personal servant - more like slave, considering the pay,
which was only $280 per month. I made and carried his lunch,
and every few feet, the geologist would pick up a rock sample
about twice the size of my fist and drop it into my knapsack. I
had to carry that ever-heavier thing all day, wading into swamps that
would sometimes come up to my chest or higher. Your shirt would
be black with flies and mosquitoes. There could be a bear
behind every tree. It was brutal, but also absolutely
beautiful. And this was how I bonded with nature.”
After
he graduated with a B.Sc. in 1970, Lee took a job as a live-in
house-father for emotionally disturbed kids, then a career in real
estate. He said he had a heavy student loan to pay off.
One senses he also had a need to gain acceptance among the Vancouver
business community. “I made rookie of the year, then Gold
Club, Diamond Club, all that,” Lee said. “I bought a couple
of horses - hunters-jumpers - and got involved with the high social
elite you see down in Southlands.” Snap shots from the time
show a short-haired Lee in boots and riding breeches, sitting atop a
bay Thoroughbred gelding.
The
real estate phased continued for several years. Lee bought a
small acreage in the suburbs. He dated but never Leeied.
“The work first became routine, then boring, then irksome, then
unbearable. I was still good at it, but the initial challenge
was gone,” he said.
… Although some conservationists predict the tiger will be extinct in five years, Mark Lee is convinced he can reverse the prophecy…
… China
imported the equivalent of 400 grown tigers and exported 27 million
tiger derivative products from 1990 to 1993… About 39,000
individual tiger containing products were seized in BC in 1996,
including everything from medicinals to tiger claws…
A
Vancouver branch of Asian Conservation Awareness Program is planning
to begin an ad blitz this June, timed to coincide with the
dragon-boat festival. Ironically, Lee will likely not be
invited to participate. According to ACAP's Vancouver organizer
Ling Zheng, Lee's confrontational style doesn't fit in with ACAP's
approach, which hinges on establishing partnerships with the Chinese
community groups and obtaining sponsorship from prominent
corporations. “We're trying to reach out to the Chinese
community, so we try not to use his name,” Zheng said. “If
we mention Mark Lee, I will probably not get any help
from organizations like SUCCESS or the Chinese Cultural Centre.
He can be quite harsh towards certain Chinese people, and I've even
heard that in the Chinese community he's considered like a traitor.”
Whether
that’s true or not, Lee has shifted his efforts from reducing
consumption into preserving tiger habitat. With the aid of a $75,000
grant from the Canadian International Development Agency, Lee has
gone to India to work towards protecting two Indian tiger reserves
from encroachment and poaching by local villagers. The plan is to
take a traveling multi-media show to villages around the tiger
reserves and convince the villagers that the tiger is worth more to
them alive than dead.
“Do
you think these women enjoy walking five miles every day into the
bush to collect a bunch of twigs and carry it back to the village on
top of their heads? They do it because they have no choice,” Lee
said. “If we give them a choice and say, Look, we’re going
to develop ecotourism, we’re going to organize tourist groups to
come to your village, and maybe you can develop some native products
to sell to them… Wouldn’t you rather stay at home and weave
baskets with your kids than walk five miles to haul water?”
Other
conservationists from other groups have made these arguments before,
often with little success, but with characteristic confidence, Lee is
convinced he will succeed.
Back
in the offices of Western Canada Wilderness Committee, the video
tiger rolls up from the ground and twists back through the gruesome
contortions of death; the dark-haired man lowers a battered rifle and
walks backwards out of the picture, and the orange-and-back form of a
Bengal tiger stands once again beneath the forest canopy, proud,
free, and alive. For a brief while longer.
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