A Journalist Retraces Humanity’s Journey out of Africa—on Foot徒步尋訪人類走出非洲的歷史

IN 2013 PAUL SALOPEK， an American journalist， began a trek around the planet. His aim was to follow Homo sapiens’ first migration， out of Africa， across the Middle East and Asia， by boat to Alaska， then down to Tierra del Fuego at the southern tip of the Americas， the place humans arrived last， around 8000BC. He called it the “Out of Eden” walk. He guessed it would take seven years. Eleven years later， he is still walking.

2013年，美國記者保羅·薩洛佩克開始徒步環(huán)游世界，以此重尋智人流散世界的蹤跡：從非洲出發(fā)，穿越中東和亞洲，乘船前往阿拉斯加，再南下美洲最南端的火地島——那是人類公元前8000年前后最終抵達(dá)之地。保羅稱此行為“走出伊甸園”，當(dāng)初預(yù)計(jì)需要7年。然而，11年之后，他仍在行走。

Mr Salopek has trekked across deserts and mountains， river plains and cloud forests， along pilgrim paths and ancient trade routes， in the footsteps of Alexander the Great and Mao Zedong. He has been shot at in the West Bank， held up by Kurdish gunmen， detained for two days and deported from Pakistan， and stopped by police so often that he logs these encounters on a “freedom of movement” map. He has led camels and mules and pack horses across the Arabian sands and Central Asia’s endless steppe. He buried caches of water at 25km intervals to traverse the Kyzyl-Kum desert in Uzbekistan， got caught in a snowstorm in the Pamir mountains and helped a man who had severed his leg in a rockslide. “The man was so cheerful， he was making jokes as we tied a tourniquet.”

薩洛佩克先生跋山涉水，穿荒漠，越云林。他踏上過朝拜之路、古時(shí)商道，也曾重走亞歷山大大帝的征途、毛澤東的征程。他曾在約旦河西岸遭到槍擊，曾被庫爾德武裝分子劫持，曾在巴基斯坦被拘留兩日后遞解出境，還曾在屢遭警察盤問時(shí)戲稱此類遭遇為“行動(dòng)自由”之境。他在駱駝、騾子和馬匹的陪伴下，橫穿阿拉伯沙漠和中亞廣闊的草原。在烏茲別克斯坦的克孜勒庫姆沙漠，他每隔25公里就埋備飲用水，方得穿越。在翻越帕米爾高原的山脈時(shí)，他曾困于一場雪暴。他還幫助過一個(gè)因落石而斷腿的男子：“這家伙太樂觀了，在我們給他系止血帶時(shí)，竟然還開玩笑。”

Mr Salopek halts often to write and explore.

薩洛佩克先生徒步過程中，經(jīng)常駐足寫作，思考探索。

He says his walk “is not an expedition”， but a way of slowing down to collect stories， “l(fā)ike beads on a string”. He has written several hundred thousand words so far， about archaeological digs and vanished civilisations， about industry and craftsmen， pollution and conservation.

他說他的徒步“不是遠(yuǎn)途探險(xiǎn)”，而是漫步采風(fēng)，“那些故事像一串珠子”。他迄今已經(jīng)著文數(shù)十萬字，寫考古發(fā)掘與逝去的文明，寫制造業(yè)與手藝人，亦寫污染與環(huán)保。

Mr Salopek is an ascetic; he owns almost nothing but the clothes on his back and the tools of his trade： laptop， mobile phone， camera. He has no home and little money. Out of Eden is a non-profit; his “salary” goes into a back-up account for operational expenses. “We are often in the red.”

薩洛佩克先生是位清苦的行者，除了背包里的幾件衣服和記者行業(yè)的必需品——筆記本電腦、手機(jī)、相機(jī)——以外，他幾乎別無所有。他沒有房子，錢也不多。“走出伊甸園”是個(gè)非營利項(xiàng)目，他的“薪水”都存在一個(gè)儲蓄賬戶里，用于運(yùn)營開支：“我們老是捉襟見肘。”

His wanderlust was inculcated in childhood. In 1968， when he was five， his father moved the family to a small village near Guadalajara in Mexico. He and his four older siblings grew up among poor farmers and went to local schools. “My Dad was a bit like the father in ‘The Mosquito Coast’，” he says， referring to a novel and film about an American who grows disillusioned with consumerism and seeks a simpler life in Latin America. After graduating from the University of California， he did various jobs： farm hand， cowboy; shrimper， gold miner.

童年時(shí)期，行走四方的宏愿便深入其心。1968年，保羅5歲，其父帶全家移居墨西哥瓜達(dá)拉哈拉附近一個(gè)小村落。他有倆哥倆姐，周圍全是窮苦農(nóng)人，他們都上當(dāng)?shù)氐膶W(xué)校。“我爸爸有點(diǎn)像《蚊子海岸》里的那位父親。”他指根據(jù)同名小說改編的那部電影，講一位美國人對消費(fèi)主義失望至極，遂前往拉美追尋簡樸生活。保羅從加州大學(xué)畢業(yè)后，干過各種工作：務(wù)農(nóng)、牧牛、捕蝦、淘金。

He went on to win two Pulitzer prizes. One was for writing about the human genome. （“Basically， we are all the same，” he concluded.） The other was for covering a gigantic war in Congo， where combatants firmly believed we are not all the same; that the tribe next door are the enemy. After a decade in Africa， he decided to change the way he wrote about the world; to focus on ordinary people who live away from the headlines but whose stories illustrate big issues.

后來，他兩度獲得普利策獎(jiǎng)。一篇寫人類基因組，“人本相同”，他斷言。另一篇寫剛果的大戰(zhàn)，那里的戰(zhàn)士堅(jiān)定地認(rèn)為人與人并不都一樣，旁邊其他部落的人就是敵人。在非洲10年后，他決意改變書寫世界的方式：聚焦普通民眾，他們雖然得不到媒體關(guān)注，但他們的故事卻能反映宏大的問題。

He is walking through “a golden age of migration”， he says. Almost everywhere， he has seen people on the move. He stumbled over the bones of migrants in the desert on the Ethiopia-Djibouti border; met Syrian refugees picking tomatoes in Jordan; noted the numbers of Punjabis who have left their villages. Today， he points out， one in seven people live or work far from their birth places， and “the push-pull factors for human movement remain basically the same as back in the Stone Age”： scarce resources， changing weather patterns， the search for greener pastures.

用薩洛佩克的話講，他在徒步穿越“一個(gè)民眾流動(dòng)的黃金時(shí)期”。每到一處，都可見人們在流動(dòng)。在埃塞俄比亞與吉布提交界的沙漠里，他曾被移民骸骨絆倒；在約旦，他曾碰到敘利亞難民采摘番茄；他也曾看到不少旁遮普人背井離鄉(xiāng)。他說，如今七分之一的人都生活或工作在異鄉(xiāng)，而“人類遷移的種種緣由卻與石器時(shí)代基本無異”：資源匱乏、氣候變化，以及對更美好環(huán)境的向往。

It is partly by looking at genetic evidence that scientists have been able to map early migration routes， to show how humans colonised the planet after leaving Africa between 60，000 and 90，000 years ago. When he gives talks about the project， Mr Salopek likes to remind people that we all share very similar genetics and concerns.

科學(xué)家之所以能夠繪制人類早期遷移路線、明確人類于6萬至9萬年前由非洲流散世界各地的方式，部分原因在于基因證據(jù)。談及徒步項(xiàng)目，薩洛佩克先生喜歡提醒人們：我們的基因非常相似，關(guān)切也極其相似。

We walked 12-25km a day in 35-degree heat， past a banal parade of car dealerships， shopping centres and pachinko （pinball） parlours. There were few trees and little shade. We stopped often for water from the many vending machines and to cool off in convenience stores. “I feel like my head is in the mouth of an animal，” said Mr Salopek after a few days. When your correspondent developed blisters， he bought her sticking plasters. “Every culture has their blister cure，” he said， “chacha liquor1 in Georgia， camel fat in Saudi Arabia.”

在35攝氏度的高溫中，我們每天徒步12至25公里，經(jīng)過平淡無奇的汽車銷售展廳、購物中心、彈球游戲廳等。沿途樹木稀少，幾無陰涼。我們經(jīng)常停歇下來從隨處可見的自動(dòng)售貨機(jī)上買水，或者到便利店乘涼。徒步數(shù)天后，薩洛佩克先生說：“我感覺頭真受不了這種濕熱。”筆者長了水泡，他就為我購買了創(chuàng)可貼。“每種文化都有治療水泡的獨(dú)特藥物，”他說，“格魯吉亞用葡萄伏特加，沙特阿拉伯則用駱駝脂肪。”

We trudged on， sweaty， sticky. Cars went by， trains went by; there were almost no other pedestrians. People travelled from air-conditioned boxes to air-conditioned boxes in air-conditioned cars. We were， literally， outsiders. The heat kept people inside， precluding the chance encounters that Mr Salopek relishes.

我們奮力前行，汗涔涔，黏糊糊。汽車奔馳而過，火車奔馳而過，我們身邊幾乎沒有其他行人。人們坐在空調(diào)車?yán)铮瑥囊惶幙照{(diào)屋前往另一處空調(diào)屋，我們卻是真正意義上的“外人”。高溫驅(qū)人入屋，薩洛佩克先生喜歡的種種邂逅便無從談及了。

In Fukuma， a dormitory town， we arranged to meet Tone Shiori， a local activist running for mayor （“I am the only female candidate！”）， at a tempura restaurant. Ms Tone was impassioned， bemoaning Japanese conservatism and the lack of women in public office.

在日本的“睡城”福間，我們約了刀禰詩織在一家天婦羅餐廳見面，她是當(dāng)?shù)氐囊幻顒?dòng)家，正在競選市長，她說自己是唯一的女性候選人。刀禰女士充滿激情，感嘆日本的保守主義，也對鮮有女性參政頗感惋惜。

Bias against women is “one global thing we share”， says Mr Salopek. Women wake up early to do chores， and go to bed late. Men dominate public spaces， own most property and bully their wives. Several times， in remote parts of Central Asia， a woman would wait for Mr Salopek on the road outside her village and tell him， weeping， of the injustices she endured. Such women “entrusted us with their secrets because we were walking away”. In South Korea， where an unprecedented number of women are opting out of marriage and children， he found the casual misogyny—the way men talked about women when they were sitting around a table with some beers—“breathtaking”.

薩洛佩克先生說，對女性的偏見“遍及全球”。女性起早貪黑操持家務(wù)。男性主導(dǎo)公共空間，擁有大部分財(cái)產(chǎn)，還對妻子呼來喝去。在中亞一些偏遠(yuǎn)地區(qū)，曾有婦女屢次三番在村外道邊等候薩洛佩克先生，向他哭訴遭受的不公。“正因?yàn)槲覀冎皇沁^客”，她們“才向我們傾吐苦衷”。在韓國，選擇不婚不育的女性人數(shù)空前增多，他發(fā)現(xiàn)，那里的男人圍坐一起，喝著啤酒，談起女人，不經(jīng)意地流露出厭惡之情，實(shí)在“驚人”。

It has been hard to find female walking partners， Mr Salopek laments. He has walked with more than 100 people： journalists and jihadis， camel herders， biologists， historians， artists and a judge who had been sacked for graft. In Korea he walked with an expert on frogs. Some people join him for a few days， others for weeks. “Walking with someone is very intimate，” says Mr Salopek. “It unlocks something in your heart; you become friends very quickly.”

薩洛佩克嘆息道，找個(gè)女性徒步伙伴殊非易事。他的徒步伙伴已逾百人，其中有記者、圣戰(zhàn)分子、牧駝人、生物學(xué)家、歷史學(xué)家、藝術(shù)家，以及一位因?yàn)槭苜V而遭解職的法官。在韓國，他曾與一位研究青蛙的專家一起徒步。有些人與他同行數(shù)日，有些數(shù)周。薩洛佩克表示：“相攜徒步，氛圍親切，心門打開，很快就會(huì)一見如故。”

On our sixth day together， a sweltering Sunday， we stopped， exhausted， at a McDonald’s to mainline sugar and sodium. A man at the next table was wearing a puffy shirt， fitted with fans that inflated it and kept him cool. Suddenly it dawned： all along we had been walking through the story. The story was the heat.

同行六天后，一個(gè)悶熱難受的周日，我們精疲力竭，在一個(gè)麥當(dāng)勞停歇下來，補(bǔ)充給養(yǎng)。鄰桌一男子，身著潔白松軟的襯衣，裝有風(fēng)扇，吹得襯衣鼓了起來，他很涼爽。我突然醒悟了：我們一直在故事中徒步，而故事就是炎熱。

“I’ve walked through climate change，” said Mr Salopek. “Here in suburban Japan， it’s just an inconvenience for most people， but in many places， it is already existential.” In Ethiopia， where he began his odyssey， he had to skirt fighting over dwindling pasture between two tribes. In Kazakhstan he saw the steppe bloom after unusually heavy rains with grasses unknown even to the oldest locals. In Georgia he watched a whole neighbourhood of Tbilisi slide into the river. In Afghanistan he found villagers enjoying bumper apricot harvests， because the summers had become warmer and the glaciers were melting. He couldn’t make them understand that in a few years the glaciers would be gone and their land would become desert. Everywhere， Mr Salopek said， farmers are worried; the weather is getting weirder.

“我徒步中經(jīng)歷了氣候變化。”薩洛佩克先生說，“在日本郊區(qū)這兒，對大多數(shù)人來說，氣候變化只是帶來不便，但在很多地方，已經(jīng)攸關(guān)存亡了。”埃塞俄比亞是他啟程的地方，在那兒，兩個(gè)部落因?yàn)槟翀鋈諟p而起爭斗，他不得不繞道而行。在哈薩克斯坦，超乎尋常的暴雨之后，他目睹草原蓬蓬勃勃，長出的草連當(dāng)?shù)刈钅觊L者都不認(rèn)識。在格魯吉亞第比利斯，他親眼看到一個(gè)居民區(qū)被河流吞沒。在阿富汗，他發(fā)現(xiàn)村民們喜獲豐收，黃杏滿枝，因?yàn)橄奶煸絹碓綗幔沟帽ㄏ凇２贿^，他無法讓他們明白：過不了幾年，會(huì)冰川不再、土地荒蕪。薩洛佩克先生說，各地的農(nóng)人都在擔(dān)憂，天氣愈來愈怪。

On our last day together， we talked to farmers tending fields girded between roads and tower blocks. “Every year it’s getting hotter，” said Takami Tsunehiro， 81 years old， who had been farming the same land with his wife for over 50 years. He paused digging up sweet potatoes and laid his scythe on the ground. “There used to be four seasons， now there is just summer and winter. There is either too much sun or too much rain.” Other farmers concurred; the heat was hard on rice plants， and working outdoors was becoming increasingly perilous.

同行最后一日，我們與田間地頭的農(nóng)人交談。高見恒弘（音譯）今年81歲，他與妻子在這片田地上耕耘了50余年，他說：“一年比一年熱了。”他停下手頭挖紅薯的活計(jì)，將鐮刀放在地上。“過去呢，一年有四季，現(xiàn)在卻只有冬夏兩季。不是太陽太毒，就是雨水太多。”其他農(nóng)人紛紛附和，水稻經(jīng)不起熱浪，戶外干活也越來越危險(xiǎn)。

At the end of the day， we ditched our packs and went for a stroll among the rice paddies. The sun was low and gold. Egrets stalked the verges， squadrons of dragonflies flitted like glitter， and we walked beside an irrigation canal full of fish， turtles and ducks. The fizz and crackle of cicadas coming from a bamboo forest was ferocious. It was the only countryside we walked in.

傍晚，我們丟下行李，去稻田壟上散步。夕陽金黃，低垂天邊。白鷺闊步地頭，點(diǎn)點(diǎn)蜻蜓結(jié)群飛舞。我們走在一條灌溉渠邊，渠內(nèi)滿是魚兒、烏龜和鴨子。竹林傳來聒噪的蟬鳴。這是我們涉足的唯一一片鄉(xiāng)野。

1格魯吉亞治療瘀傷或水泡的一種液體，用葡萄酒糟制成，俗稱“葡萄伏特加”。