It
is no secret to anyone who reads this column that Fluffy and I watch
our share of television, and one of our favorite “guilty
pleasure” shows of this summer has been "Naked and Afraid
XL."
We
assume that "XL" means extra-large, but that is being
optimistic. For one thing, all of the naked people have their
naughty parts pixilated, so we have no idea who is extra-large versus
average. And for another thing, after being in the wilderness
for forty days without food, nobody on that show is going to
be extra-large, even if they started out that way.
But I'm
getting ahead of myself. "Naked and Afraid XL" is a
survival show, where twelve people were divided into groups of three
and dropped into a particularly nasty area of the Colombian jungle,
where they were left to fend for themselves for forty days.
By
"fend for themselves," I mean that literally. When
they were dropped off, they had to shed their clothes, even their
shoes. Each group of three was given one fire-starter.
(This is a cheat that was not allowed in the early days of the show,
and I didn't like it, but the producers didn't ask me.)
And
each individual was given one other item of his or her choice.
Some chose a machete or a knife. Some chose a pot. One
chose mosquito netting. Whatever one survival tool he or she
wanted, he could take.
Each group also had a rough
map. It showed approximately where they had been dropped off,
and where they needed to be in forty days' time to get picked up.
In every case, they were at least five or six miles from where they
needed to be. In between them and their extraction point was
the mighty Orinoco River, which was teeming with snakes, piranha,
caiman and other predatory creatures.
That was all the naked
people were given. There were no shoes to protect the bottoms
of their feet. There were no clothes to protect them from bug
bites. There were no fans to cool them in the 100+ degree heat.
There were not even shoelaces to use as cordage. Whatever else
they needed, for forty days, they had to get from the jungle. Period.
Each group of
three survivalists knew there were other naked people out there
somewhere, and they all knew where they had to be in forty days'
time. But none of them had any particular requirement to meet
up with one another, or live as a group together. They just
needed to survive, in whatever way seemed best to them.
Fluffy
and I immediately started following a group that called themselves
the Alpha Males. They were aptly named. One of them did
not do well and quit the challenge in only the second episode because
of health issues, but the other two were as strong as lions.
As
a little aside, one of the alpha males of this duo happened to be a
Mormon. You non-Mormons who think of Donnie and Marie as your
representative Mormon may want to feast your eyes on this picture,
next time you are called upon to visualize what a Mormon looks
like:
Jeff Zausch, just another basic Mormon. We who watched "Naked and Afraid XL" are well aware that this triumphant picture of
Jeff bagging his third electric eel actually went all the way down to his feet. Thank goodness for the art of pixilization!
As
the series progressed, different groups of survivalists chose
different ways to survive. The Alpha Males went out hunting
every morning, staying out until after sunset, and choosing to subdue
the land and kill and eat whatever they could. There were
actually a couple of vegetarians in other groups, though, and one of
them made it all the way to the end without eating meat.
Contrary to the Alpha Males, most of the other survivalists
were dominated by the philosophies of some loud, domineering, and, as
far as Fluffy and I were concerned, stupid women who decided that the
best way to survive for forty days was to lie on their rear ends and
to do nothing whatsoever in the way of work.
This is
not to say they did nothing at all, however. They decided they
were going to criticize whatever anyone else did in the way of work.
It went way beyond nagging.
"Bullying"
is a word that is way overused these days, but these survivalists did
it, choosing two members of the group who were at the bottom of the
pecking order and then picking on them until they chose to “tap
out” (go home) rather than stay and endure the torments of
their peers.
These weren't fifth graders. They were adults.
This was a social experiment that sociologists should study and write
books about. These survivalists systematically chose two
people, excluded them, and drove them out of the tribe. If
there had not been producers there to take them home, they would have
died in the wilderness.
Eventually all of the naked
survivalists found themselves in the same area, Piranha Lake.
The team of Alpha Males decided, wisely, to stay away from the rest.
Perhaps they didn’t stay far enough, because every time the
Alpha Males caught an electric eel, the other people arrived with
their hands out, ready to eat.
To
their credit, the Alpha Males would usually share their catch, even
though the sharing was not reciprocal on the rare occasions the other
team found meat.
The
other team would not have survived without the food the Alpha Males
gave them. But after the challenge was over, the rest of the
group sniped that they didn't really need the food the Alpha Males
gave them. They would have made it anyway, they said.
As
we watched this show, we saw two kinds of people. We saw people
who were builders. They got up in the morning and worked toward
feeding themselves and having a productive life. When they
found food for themselves, they even fed others. You may even
say they fed their enemies. They certainly weren't feeding
people who were being kind to them.
The other people were
people who were lazy. They didn't do anything but lie around
from morning till night. They said they were "conserving
their resources," but they certainly worked overtime in looking
for evil things to say about the people around them. And their
feet ran to the food that was produced by others. They always
had a hand out to take a share of the resources that they had no hand
in procuring.
The older I get, the less I am physically
able to do. Frankly, my ineptitude drives me crazy. But I hope
that I am always able to do what I can do, and to accept what others
do for me, with a happy heart. The least I can do is to offer a
word of encouragement, and a smile, along with what little help to
others that can give.
If
the day comes that I stop trying to do something productive, I will
feel so guilty that I will probably curl up in a ball and die.
And if I ever become a sniper who preys upon the goodwill and the
tender feelings of others, I will have lived too long upon this
earth.
Kathryn H. Kidd has been writing fiction, nonfiction, and "anything for money" longer than
most of her readers have even been alive. She has something to say on every topic, and the
possibility that her opinions may be dead wrong has never stopped her from expressing them at
every opportunity.
A native of New Orleans, Kathy grew up in Mandeville, Louisiana. She attended Brigham
Young University as a generic Protestant, having left the Episcopal Church when she was eight
because that church didn't believe what she did. She joined The Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints as a BYU junior, finally overcoming her natural stubbornness because she
wanted a patriarchal blessing and couldn't get one unless she was a member of the Church. She
was baptized on a Saturday and received her patriarchal blessing two days later.
She married Clark L. Kidd, who appears in her columns as "Fluffy," more than thirty-five
years ago. They are the authors of numerous LDS-related books, the most popular of which is A
Convert's Guide to Mormon Life.
A former managing editor for Meridian Magazine, Kathy moderated a weekly column ("Circle of Sisters") for Meridian until she was derailed by illness in December of 2012. However, her biggest claim to fame is that she co-authored
Lovelock with Orson Scott Card. Lovelock has been translated into Spanish and Polish, which
would be a little more gratifying than it actually is if Kathy had been referred to by her real name
and not "Kathryn Kerr" on the cover of the Polish version.
Kathy has her own website, www.planetkathy.com, where she hopes to get back to writing a weekday blog once she recovers from being dysfunctional. Her entries recount her adventures and misadventures with Fluffy, who heroically
allows himself to be used as fodder for her columns at every possible opportunity.
Kathy spent seven years as a teacher of the Young Women in her ward, until she was recently released. She has not yet gotten used to interacting with the adults, and suspects it may take another seven years. A long-time home teacher with her husband, Clark, they have home taught the same family since 1988. The two of them have been temple workers since 1995, serving in the Washington D.C. Temple.