All language subtitles for Wild Shepherdess with Kate Humble 2of3 Peru

Yay, yay, yay, yay, yay!

Like that?

THEY LAUGH

Look at me. I'm covered.

In the most remote places on earth,

people depend on their animals
for survival.

A few years ago, I moved to a farm
in the Welsh hills.

I've become fascinated

by the ancient bond
between shepherd and flock.

In Afghanistan,
I looked back in time

and saw the origins
of our relationship with livestock.

The admiration that I have for these
people really knows no bounds.

Now, in Peru, I get to grips
with a very different animal.

The alpaca.

There is sex going on in every
direction.

Aqui, aqui!

Alpaca herding in Peru goes back
thousands of years.

But today, the people of the Andes
are at a crossroads

and must choose between tradition
and progress.

What I'm going for is really what
I go for when I pick a racehorse,

which is a pretty face
and a nice bum.

I'm in the heartland of one
of the greatest empires

the world has ever seen.

The Incas are famous
for their architecture

and many of their buildings
are still standing today.

But what few people know is just how
skilled they were

as farmers and as herders.

They had this amazing livestock
management system

which allowed them to build up

one of the finest herds
that the world has ever known.

And in turn, produce some of
the finest textiles.

Now, I'm heading from here right
up into the high mountains

to some of the remote modern-day
Peruvian herding communities

to find out what, if any, of that
Inca heritage still remains.

The arrival of the Spanish
conquistadors

ended the Inca civilisation
500 years ago.

Their modern-day descendants,
the Quechua,

are known for making colourful
clothing,

but how do their achievements
compare

with those
of their illustrious ancestors?

I'm heading to village called
Chaulloqocha,

which produces some of the best
textiles in this area.

It's half a day's drive away,
high up into the mountains.

This was where corn was found,
potatoes were found,

tobacco was found,
tomatoes were found.

You can see it's just
bursting with life.

The tribes of the Andes
were as skilled with their animals

as they were with their crops.

But that was more than
five centuries ago.

I want to find out
what things are like today.

We're at 4,300 metres here,
so quite high.

The tops of the mountains are well
and truly shrouded in cloud.

It's January and the beginning
of the wet season in Peru.

I'm amazed we've been able
to drive this far.

But the final stage of the journey
will be on foot.

My translator Urbano

has been to Chaulloqocha before
and knows the way.

It feels like there are houses
sort of all spread out.

Chaulloqocha village
is not a compact place.

And here, this is the house
where we are going now.

This one here, right down...?
Down there, yeah.

There are people at the wall
expecting us.

I think they are waiting for us.

I can hear giggling.

KATE LAUGHS

THEY GIGGLE

Look at this.
It's immaculately neat.

Alhandrina. Alhandrina.

Hola. Hola. Buenos dias.

I'm going to be living with
Alhandrina, her son, Augustine,

and the rest of their extended
family

in their two-roomed, thatched house.

The family depend on one crop,
potatoes.

And on one animal, alpacas.

They are extraordinary-looking
animals.

They look
like they've been put together

from sort of different parts
of different animals.

Alpacas, like llamas,
are closely related to camels.

They were the foundation
of the Inca empire

and they're still prized
for their wool-like fibre.

How many alpacas
do your family have?

Beautiful! How many days old
is that?

One day only.

Are any more of the herd pregnant?

What is a baby alpaca called?
Is it a lamb?

So it is literally little alpaca.

Alpaca cucha? Alpaca cucha.

But not all is well
with the baby alpaca.

It turns out it's actually sick.

It's having trouble breathing,

but Augustine says there's nothing
he can do to help it.

The family have very kindly lent me
this room to sleep in.

It is a bedroom,
but it's also clearly a storeroom.

Up here, there are huge amounts
of sacks

which I think might all have
alpaca fibre in.

Piles of clothes, cooking pots.

The bed is sort of squeezed in,

but er...it's sort of...

well, comfortable enough,
if you like lumps.

But the thing I love most about this
room is its unique decoration.

When I first came in here,

I made the mistake of looking up.

And in the rafters is a dead cat.

There's a slightly strange smell
in here, it has to be said.

Night-night.

LAUGHTER

As well as their alpacas,

the family look after
some smaller animals.

Guinea pigs sleep in holes
by the fire

and have free run of the house
during the day.

GIGGLING

They're sort of like
a four-legged recycling unit.

Potatoes and vegetable peelings
go to the guinea pigs.

There's some bad news.

The baby alpaca I saw yesterday
didn't make it.

Augustine is going to butcher it
straightaway.

We're so squeamish about this
sort of thing in western society,

and yet here's a little girl aged
three or four helping her father.

Nothing is wasted.

The hide will be sold
and the meat eaten.

More than half of baby alpacas
die here.

Foxes and birds of prey
are a threat,

but the cold, wet weather
is the biggest killer.

Augustine is going to shear
some alpacas

in a special enclosure
at the top of the ridge.

What I think we're doing is, er...

driving the alpacas up to a corral,

a sort of stone enclosure
on the top of that mountain.

KATE LAUGHS

It's quite wet, it's quite slippery,
and it's quite steep.

It's quite inspiring to see
the whole family out here.

Grandmother, parents, children.

Way up there is a little girl
who can't be more than six.

And I feel like I'm going to have
to call an emergency helicopter
in a minute.

It's exhausting. Come on, you lot.

The alpacas are driven into
the corral, ready for shearing.

After our long climb, it's time
for some refreshment, Andean style.

OK.

Why do you chew this?

It doesn't taste of much.

It sort of tastes of eating a hedge,
really.

And now I'm probably not talking
very well

because the whole of my mouth is
tingling and my tongue's gone numb.

The male alpacas are taking
full advantage of our coca break.

So when the alpacas make
this noise...

KATE IMITATES AN ALPACA

..what does it mean?

OK.

They're happy. It's a content noise.

THEY LAUGH

There doesn't seem to be
any kind of breeding system.

The alpacas are just left
to get on with it.

Augustine has selected an animal
for shearing.

Oh, it won't be that bad!

When you feel this fibre... Oh!

I got told off for referring to it
as wool. It is fibre.

And it actually does feel
very different

from the wool that you might get
from a sheep.

Alpaca fibre is up to seven times
warmer than sheep's wool.

Along with cashmere from goats,

it's one of the world's most prized
natural threads.

I have never seen shearing done

with what is effectively
a kitchen knife.

Alpaca fibre has been keeping
the people of the Andes warm

for thousands of years.

The Incas were obsessed with it

and valued it more than gold
and silver.

It's quite easy to see how the Incas
built their empire on this, really.

It has the feel of absolute luxury.

There seems to be an enormous amount
of fibre coming off

what is actually
quite a small animal.

The family are going keep these
fleeces

to make clothes and handicrafts.

But most of their fibre will be sold
to collectors,

middlemen who buy
as much fibre as they can

and sell it on
to Peru's processing factories.

How many soles does the collector
pay per pound?

An average-sized fleece like this

would earn Augustine and his wife
Demesia about £8.

It doesn't sound very much
for a lot of work.

Can you make enough money
from your alpacas

to support the whole family?

Fibre from the family's herd
of 60 animals

earns them £160 at most every year.

There are many mouths to feed
and times are hard.

It's about 5:30 in the morning.

So we're just taking the sprouts off
some potatoes.

There are guinea pigs running around
and a cat by the fire.

It's a very cosy domestic scene.

Alhandrina makes a shocking
discovery.

That one doesn't look so good!

Alhandrina was fattening
this guinea pig up,

ready for a special meal.

I know we think of guinea pigs
as pets,

but here, every now and then,
they think,

"Right, it's time for a roast,"
and, er...kill one.

So they're sort of much-loved,

as you can see,
and kept beautifully,

but very much as livestock,
rather than as a pet.

LAUGHTER

The women are going to process
the alpaca fibre.

After picking out dirt
and other impurities,

the next task is to spin
the individual hairs into a thread.

Alhandrina, did you teach all
your daughters how to spin?

Alhandrina wants to teach me
the basics.

I'll be punished
if I make a mistake.

KATE LAUGHS

If I get it wrong?

So I spin like that?

This process transforms
this kind of fluffy rope

into a much thinner thread

which can then be woven.

Mine's a little bit lumpy.

Keep it...? Keep pulling it?

THEY LAUGH

Raw fibre may not earn them
very much,

but after the women
have made it into textiles,

they can sell it
for a great deal more.

I'm not doing very well, am I?
You need six hands!

THEY LAUGH

Our snack of boiled potatoes
is interrupted

when Augustine sees one
of the alpacas

having trouble giving birth.

It's a large baby,
and it looks like it's stuck.

The family only have a few
adult alpacas,

so the mother is the priority.

With a lamb, I know what to do.
With an alpaca, I don't.

All right, all right, all right.

Good girl, good girl.

Well done! Good girl.

Good girl, good girl. Good girl!

Good girl!

Good girl!

Wow! That's a lot of leg
to come out.

So much bigger than lambs.

And actually, an alpaca isn't much
bigger than a sheep.

SHOUTING

They're worried that she may have
some sort of infection.

They have asked our director
to pee in a bottle,

which he has duly done because
he's a very well-behaved man.

And I think...someone is going
to come... There they are.

They're going to use...

..the pee as an antiseptic.

People can't afford medicine
up here,

so they make do with whatever
they can get their hands on.

Augustine decides to name the baby
James, after our director.

We leave him to bond with his mother
and head back to the house.

It may have been a traumatic birth,
but they both look OK.

The family are cooking a feast
to welcome me into their home.

And there's a special treat
on the menu.

So...I can safely say I've never
eaten guinea pig before.

Mm!

And I can tell you,
and I'm sorry to all of you

who've got a beloved
pet guinea pig at home,

it's absolutely delicious!

It's kind of like dark chicken meat.

Yum!

All of those mothers fed up
of cleaning out

your children's guinea pigs,
cook 'em!

Oh! Delicioso!

LAUGHTER

Peru is modernising fast.

And even the most remote communities
are beginning to change.

Basic sanitation
was put in a year ago

and electricity will soon follow.

But this is a marginal existence.

Up to three million Peruvians

still live from hand to mouth
up in the Andes.

We're going to check on the baby
alpaca, James,

that was born yesterday.

Oh, there he is!

KATE LAUGHS

James looks in great shape.

Augustine thinks he's got
a good chance of making it.

But despite such new additions,

Augustine has very little land,

so he's unable to increase
the size of his herd.

Improvements in health care

means more of the village's
children are reaching adulthood.

Each family's grazing land

is being divided into smaller
and smaller plots,

which are getting more and more
degraded.

Lack of space is not the only
problem Augustine faces.

Are all your animals pure alpacas?

Llamas and alpacas can mate,

and their offspring's fibre
is coarser

and less valuable
than a pure-bred alpaca's.

Augustine has so few animals,
they are inbred, too,

and more vulnerable to bad weather,
disease and parasites.

Trying to make ends meet
with just a few poor quality animals

is too much of a struggle
for many young herders.

Thousands are leaving
their villages,

preferring to take their chances
in towns and cities.

The women gather on the hillside
and set up their looms.

The Incas wove alpaca fibre

into some of the finest cloth
the world has ever seen.

And there are echoes of their skill
in Alhandrina's work.

I mean, don't those look like

absolute classic Inca designs?

Definitely an alpaca.

The family will keep a few
of the scarves and shawls they make,

but they hope that most
will eventually be sold on,

bringing in much-needed cash.

Do you worry that young people being
born in the village here

will leave and go and work in towns,

that they will leave
this traditional life?

I'm really enjoying
getting to know this family.

But I sense that I've come
to Chaulloqocha at a pivotal time,

after which nothing
will ever be the same.

Not everyone in the village
is struggling financially.

On the ridge above
the family's house

lives Augustine's cousin,
Tomas Puma.

Buenos dias.

Buenos dias. Buenos dias.

Me llamo Katia.

Me llamo Tomas.

Nice to meet you. Me gusta.

A few years ago, Tomas made
the two-day journey to town

to try to get a better price
for his fibre.

Tomas's fibre, like Augustine's,

was from llama alpaca hybrids.

The competition was from
pure alpacas,

worth much more per pound.

Tomas's eyes were opened.

He became a collector himself,

buying fleeces from other herders
and selling them on for a profit.

Business is good, and he's now made
enough money

to start buying in
better quality alpacas.

Tomas paid £300
for this pure-bred male.

Five times what a normal alpaca
is worth.

It is like a completely different
animal.

This feels almost like velvet.

And if I were an Inca princess,

I'd want to wear fibre
from this one.

A llama alpaca hybrid's fibre

is worth only six soles,
£1.50 per pound.

If you sell the fibre
from this animal,

how many soles per pound
for this fibre?

12 soles.

So double what the usual alpacas
in this area get.

Tomas has a simple breeding system.

Castrating lower quality males

so only his very best get to mate.

It will take him a few years
to improve his herd,

but his eye is fixed firmly
on the future.

I wonder whether really
what I'm witnessing

is the end of the kind of
small family farm

and perhaps the beginning of people
like Tomas

taking over land and taking over
livestock.

And I kind of hate myself
for saying this, I hate it,

it goes against everything
I believe in.

I love the fact that people
can still be self-sufficient,

still be connected to the land,

but I suspect that these small farms
can't really exist any more,

that they have to be gobbled up

and become part of a much bigger,
more commercial enterprise

for alpaca herding to
survive here in Peru.

CHILDREN SING

Back at the house,
there's an air of excitement.

Tonight is a special night
for one of the girls.

I had a bit of a shock.

Augustine and Demesia asked
if I would be godmother

to their second child,

who has the rather marvellous
name of Mary the Miraculous.

And I've accepted.

And so there is a ceremony happening
any moment now.

I'm not quite sure what it involves,

but it's something to do with
hair cutting

and handing over
quite a lot of money.

Who gets the haircut and who gets
the money, I'm not entirely sure,

but...but I'm really delighted.

The family has asked
one of our translators, Hector,

to be Mary's godfather.

We have a big responsibility. Yes.

And I am so happy, too. Yeah. Yeah.

Every lock of hair earns a donation
from a godparent

or one of the family.

It doesn't take long before
little Mary

is as shorn as one of her
father's alpacas.

Alhandrina wants to sell some fibre.

She's sent a message to her nephew,
Tomas, to come and visit.

THEY LAUGH

Alhandrina has made £23.

But if the fibre was better quality,

she could have earned twice as much.

It's clear that Augustine
and Demesia face many challenges.

What do they think the future holds
for their family?

They have two options.

Stay and improve their alpaca herd

or look for work in a town.

With such a low income,

it's going to be a struggle
to get things started.

But Augustine has one thing
in his favour.

A strong, skilled family.

With their support, he might just
be able to make a go of it.

It's time for me to leave.

Augustine is determined to make
more money from his fibre.

But I want to know
what he's up against,

so I'm going to check out
the competition.

It doesn't take long

before dirt tracks give way
to Tarmac roads.

In one minute,
you can be in a community

that feels completely cut off
from the outside world,

where there's no electricity,

people are really living on potatoes
and guinea pig,

and within an hour, be in
quite a sophisticated town.

Tarmacked roads,
electricity, internet.

Peru has one of the world's
fastest-growing economies.

Industry is booming and hundreds
of thousands of people

are leaving villages like
Chaulloqocha every year

to work in towns and cities.

Most end up in low-paid, menial
jobs, living in shanty towns.

If Augustine and Demesia
were to leave their mountain home,

this is the kind of life
they could expect.

We're heading back
up into the Andes,

but this is a very different
landscape.

There are no villages
or potato fields.

Instead, we seem to be driving
through one great big ranch.

We're at nearly 5,000 metres here

and I'm going to meet a man
who is right at the top of his game.

In this area of Peru,

he probably has one of
the finest herds of alpacas.

Buenos dias, Hugo. Buenos dias.

How are you? Todo bien?

Buenos dias. Todo bien.
Good, good.

The animals in Chaulloqocha were
a hotchpotch of different colours,

sizes and breeds.

But Hugo Yucra's
are like a herd of clones.

These are all Suri alpacas.

A rare breed that produces
the finest fibre.

It's like silk, isn't it?

It's so fine and...

Oh, it's just... It's beautiful,
isn't it?

I love my family in Chaulloqocha,
but, er...

..the quality of their fibre
just simply doesn't come close.

While Tomas spends a few hundred
pounds on new blood,

Hugo is prepared to invest
thousands.

These are all females.

The males are kept
in a different area of the ranch.

This morning, Hugo wants
to separate his best animals.

This one here? Oh, yeah.

How difficult can it be to spot
a thoroughbred from a second-rater?

Oh! Hugo, I like that one.

That's the one!

Good catch. What do you think? Good?

Right, next one.

This one. That's the one!

Bueno?

I could get used to this!

What I'm going for is really what
I go for when I pick a racehorse,

which is a pretty face
and a nice bum.

Although in this case, I'm also
looking at the hairstyle.

What do you think of this one?
Is it OK?

So not so good.

You see? I thought I was getting
the hang of it.

They might grow lovely wool
that's turned into luxury items,

but there's a filthy side
to alpacas.

And that's when
they're in a bad mood

or they disagree with
what you're doing to them...

Sorry!

KATE LAUGHS

..they spit at you.

And that's exactly what this one's
doing to me.

And it's not just... Stop it!

Look at me.
I'm covered in basically...

That's come from the depths
of their bowels.

Believe me, it stinks.

This isn't just a kind of little gob
like some yob on a Saturday night,

this is a full-blown "I hate your
guts." Come on. No!

She needs some manners
taught to her, that one.

We've separated off
all of Hugo's top females.

Now we need to count
the rest of the herd.

Bear with me.
This could all go horribly wrong.

Do I count in Spanish...or English?

166.

You made it 164, I made 163.

THEY LAUGH

Close.

Let's go with his.
That makes you richer!

THEY LAUGH

The top females are much easier
to keep track of.

Thirteen that will be mated with the
best males at the end of the month.

Outside of the corral,
Hugo's alpacas are given free range.

He owns more than 3,000 animals,

spread out over 3,000 hectares.

So there's no overcrowding

or overgrazing on this ranch.

We drive higher up into the
mountains to Hugo's farmhouse.

His wife and young children
live in town a few hours away.

But Hugo spends much of his time
up here.

He may be a successful breeder,

but he lives without running water,

electricity or any home comforts.

Hugo very kindly has said
that we can use this room.

And as you can see, we've got
a table and chairs set up,

so me and all the crew are eating
in here.

And come night-time,
the table will be cleared away

and we'll all be sleeping in here,
as well.

No dead cats hanging from
the rafters.

Although I hate to say it,

I think there might be something
dead in here.

I can certainly smell something
not too savoury.

(It'll be fine.

(That's what you say
when you're being stoic.)

Hugo doesn't come from
a herding background.

His father was a trader

who bought alpaca fleeces
from highland villages.

As a boy, Hugo travelled with him

and began to dream of one day
having a herd of his own.

He realised early on that quality
of fibre is everything.

And he now goes to extreme lengths
to get it.

Hugo puts plastic capes on his top
alpacas

to protect their fibre
from the elements.

This one doesn't seem very happy
with its new look.

SQUEALING

They do seem to be
very highly strung.

Kind of constantly making a fuss
about something.

Everything's a drama and I'm going
to scream the place down

until someone either leaves me alone

or does what I want them to do.

They're kind of like spoilt
children.

And when they get really angry,
they then just sit down.

It's like having a tantrum.

..It's not so bad.

They're putting a nice coat on you.
Be quiet.

Yeah, yeah.

Hugo's animals may be some
of the best in southern Peru,

but amazingly, even they cannot
match the quality of fibre

that has been found in Inca
burial sites.

There's some bad weather blowing in,

so I head for my sleeping bag
and an early night.

Although it was freezing cold
outside, it was quite warm in here.

Mud walls obviously work quite well
with insulation.

I did wear absolutely every item
of clothing that I'm wearing now.

Hugo thought it would snow
last night,

so he moved the baby alpacas
and their mums

into a specially built nursery.

But shelter's not the only thing
he gives them.

What is this drink
you're giving them?

Iodine stops her navel getting
infected.

And she'll also be vaccinated
against disease and parasites.

Newborns are very vulnerable
to the cold,

so Hugo's giving this one some
extra protection.

A-ha!

I tell you, I wouldn't have minded
one of those capes last night.

Bueno!

In Chaulloqocha, as many as six out
of ten of babies don't make it.

Hugo's care and attention means
half as many die here,

even though conditions are harsher.

His herd is growing.

And their fleeces are becoming
famous throughout southern Peru.

It's clear from meeting Hugo
that he has his sights set high,

but what's also clear
is the great gap

between what Hugo is doing

and what Tomas and Augustine
are able to do.

Hugo and Augustine
may be worlds apart,

but their fibre ends up in the same
place, Peru's processing factories.

And that's where I'm going now.

We're going to leave the mountains
and the farms,

head for the big city of Arequipa,

which is really where
everything happens.

Where all the decisions,
the key decisions are made.

Strategically located between
the herders in the mountains

and the coastal ports,

Arequipa is the world capital
of the alpaca industry.

The streets are lined with shops
selling alpaca clothing.

And the industrial parks are busy
seven days a week

turning alpaca fibre into products
for global export.

The Michell Corporation

is the largest alpaca processor
in the world.

Every year, up to five million
tonnes of fibre

is driven down to this warehouse

from collection centres
in the Andes.

Each of these bags are what we
call in Spanish "quintal".

It means 100 pounds. Right.
46.2 kilos.

CEO Derek Michell is taking me
on a whistle-stop tour

to show me how this raw material

is transformed into
top quality yarns and textiles.

Impurities, tangled fibres

and coarse hairs
are removed at every stage.

So it's getting cleaner and cleaner
all the time. That's right.

I wish I'd known, I'd have brought
all my laundry with me.

That would be good,
that would be good.

Covering an area of about
15 football pitches,

it's a huge operation.

I think Augustine and Alhandrina
would be amazed

that their little bag of fibre

ends up in a place like this.

This is the beginning
of the spinning factory.

And this is what comes out.

Suddenly, that's looking almost more
recognisable as a yarn.

As a yarn.

The machines are mimicking

what people have been doing by hand
for thousands of years.

So what the ladies used to do
by stretching and twisting,

is what this machine is doing.

That's what it's doing. Exactly.

Yarns are woven into textiles

and textiles are then sewn
into garments.

I've got a very small head.
It doesn't look bad.

That's called a chullo.
That's a Peruvian chullo.

Right. There you go.

Yeah, adorable.
It doesn't look that bad.

It's kind
of amazing that up in Chaulloqocha,

you've got somebody shearing
their alpaca with a kitchen knife...

Exactly. ..and it could end up
looking like this.

That's right, yeah.

Peru makes the majority of
the world's alpaca products.

And a large proportion
goes to China.

Being such a big consumer,
it's no surprise

that China wants to start producing
its own alpaca fibre.

We've been hearing a lot that already
there are some alpacas in China.

And that's something that does worry
us as a business.

If they were to grow in animals
big time,

we could start winding down
somehow in Peru.

As well as China, Australia,
New Zealand and the USA

have their own top quality herds.

Peru's position as the number one
alpaca producer

is by no means certain.

We're back where we started,
the sorting room.

These ladies grade all the fibre
that passes through the warehouse

using skills handed down
from generation to generation.

This is really the kind of
key process. Absolutely.

If it wasn't for these ladies,

all the alpaca would be mixed into
one single lot

and shipped out as an average fibre.
Right.

The women sort the fibre according
to its thickness,

which is measured in millionths
of a metre, or microns.

The finest fibre will be made
into clothing,

the coarsest into carpets.

The whole basis of it is here.

If these ladies would
not know how to sort,

there's just no machine
that could even come close to it.

So Maria is the highest paid woman
in Peru?

Oh, she's definitely
the highest paid woman.

At least she's the most appreciated,
let me tell you that!

THEY LAUGH

OK, I've got a little test for you.

This is some of the fibre Augustine
sheared up in Chaulloqocha.

Is it worth anything
to a processor like Derek?

It's a decent fleece.

There'll be parts which are between
20 and 22 microns.

So that's pretty good quality,
really.

22 microns is four times finer
than a human hair.

It's not top of the range,
but it's certainly good enough

for a scarf or a shawl.

I sort of expected you to rubbish
this fibre. No, no.

So what you're telling me
is that the traditional herders

still produce product that you can
use and has a value.

Oh, yes, absolutely.

And would you be able to say roughly
the percentage of fibre you process

that comes from the communities
compared to the breeders?

I mean...

Oh! It would be 95% to 5% probably.

So, you need communities
like Chaulloqocha?

Of course we do!
They're vital to you.

Of course we need their fibre.
Absolutely.

We would like them to have a better
fibre, that's the only thing.

To encourage herders
to improve their animals,

Derek has started buying directly
from them,

cutting out middlemen
and paying a premium for fine fibre.

You've cheered me up. I want to run
back up the hill to Chaulloqocha

and tell them,
"This is really good!"

This is what we're trying to do.

We're really trying to get
as much penetration

between the farmer and the industry

to make sure
that we give the right messages,

that they receive the right messages

and hopefully with that,
keep the farming of animals going.

Because if they don't...

We're out of business,
we're out of business.

Every single person who works
in this is gone.

Absolutely. Absolutely. Yep.

It's such a relief to be told
that Augustine's fibre has a value.

But I now realise that the stakes
are even higher than I'd imagined

and the whole of Peru's
alpaca industry is on a knife edge.

But there is hope.

Before I leave Peru, Derek wants me
to visit Mallkini Ranch,

the Michell Company's
alpaca research centre.

Manager Moises Asparrin
has one objective,

to improve Peru's alpaca herd
as quickly as possible.

Breeding is therefore
top of the agenda.

The females that Moises said
are ready for breeding

have been brought into
their own private little boudoirs.

And the alpacas that are running
around me now are all males

and they've got numbers on that
will correspond to their females.

And so number 10 here is looking for
his number 10 female.

I've found number 10's girlfriend

and I'm going to try and get him
to go there.

Aqui, aqui!

Oh, there we go! There you go!

Oh, now, look at that!
It's love at first sight.

The noise an alpaca male makes
during mating is known as orgling.

Apparently,
it encourages the female to ovulate,

helping to ensure conception.

Moises wants to produce babies
with the finest fibre.

But this system will also help him

to weed out males
that don't meet the mark.

Now, it's not looking like
the greatest romance in the world

in number 20's pen.

Both of them are looking studiously
uninterested in each other.

But apparently, according to Moises,

it's not that they don't like
each another,

it's because the male has got
performance anxiety,

so turn away, please.

There are almost 4,000 alpacas here,

but each animal
is carefully monitored

and daily reports
are fed into a database.

Moises is following in the footsteps
of the Incas,

whose highly organised,
large-scale herding system

was fundamental to their success.

But there's one thing Moises has
access to which the Incas did not.

The latest breeding techniques.

These guys are up against really
a race against time.

They want to improve
the alpaca herds.

They want Peru to be back on the map

of producing some of the finest
alpaca fibre in the world.

And to do that,
artificial insemination

is going to be a crucial tool
in their box.

Artificial insemination enables
the genes of the very best animals

to be passed on
with clinical efficiency.

It's been used commercially in sheep
and other livestock for many years,

but it's still being tried out
with alpacas.

The first step is to see

whether the potential mothers
are ready to breed.

Waiting patiently outside
is a male alpaca.

Now, he's castrated, so he can't get
any of these females pregnant,

but what he can do is get them
all roused up and excited.

If the female accepts
the male's advances,

she's injected with a hormone
to make sure she ovulates.

If she refuses him,
she'll go back into the herd.

Crikey! She was very receptive.

There's a terrible expression in
English, which is "gagging for it".

Professor Willy Vivanco

is a world-renowned
animal reproduction expert.

He's spent much of his career
working with sheep

and he's now trying to perfect
the technique with alpacas.

Just when he's getting to the fun
part, you pull him off.

You're a hard man!

We just use him
for the very short space.

Enough to do the stimulation

and then he has to go to another
female and so on,

so he never ejaculates actually.

No. No. He just fluffs. Exactly.

KATE LAUGHS

The mothers are ready.

Now for the fathers.

Once again, there's very little
romance involved.

This is the artificial vagina. Mm-hm.

But the alpacas will take up
to 20 minutes copulating,

so we use the electrical blanket
to keep it warm.

The male will be fooled into
thinking he's inside a female

and will ejaculate
into a glass tube.

One of Mallkini's finest males

is introduced
to some receptive females.

The switch is made
at the crucial moment.

Now we have to wait. And wait.

Because that's what a female alpaca
has to do.

The now-familiar sound of orgling
reverberates around the room.

With ruminants like the bull

or the male goat or the ram,

it's seconds. Right.

They get stimulated
and then they jump

and ejaculate just in one thrust.

He's standing up. Is that...?

That's why I said to you that

these guys are not on the job
straight.

But they're tired and they...

They want to get up,
they go and get a beer,

they come back,
they check the newspaper.

THEY LAUGH

Never ever fall for an alpaca.

He's done it?

He's done it? OK.
Let's bring it down.

Straight to the lab?
Straight to the lab.

After so much effort, I have to say,

the result is a bit of
an anticlimax.

Is that it?

You wait a long time
for not very much.

The semen is diluted
to make it go further.

In this way, a top male can father
many more babies in a year

than by natural mating.

The first female is blindfolded
in a rather rudimentary way

to stop her panicking and spitting
during the insemination.

There is something fairly
discomforting, I suppose,

about seeing an alpaca
with a plastic bag on its head.

It's one of those things, you know,

you weigh up discomfort
to an animal,

certainly not cruelty,
but discomfort,

but if this going to make
the difference to the species

and to the future of the alpaca
fibre industry,

then perhaps it's a short bit
of discomfort

that will have much longer-term
benefits.

Willy is trying out two ways
of insemination.

This is the simplest, where the
semen is squirted into her cervix

using, well, something rather like
a turkey baster.

That's the whole thing done.

She's going to feel cheated by that.

It should have taken
at least 25 minutes.

The next method is more complicated,

so this animal has been given
a local anaesthetic.

The semen is injected
directly into her uterus.

The team will compare
the effectiveness of each procedure.

It really is early days.

The last time they tried this,
they only had a 25% success rate.

Moises is convinced
that once perfected,

this will eventually help to save
alpaca herding

in Peru's poorest villages.

Though Augustine couldn't afford
a breeding male,

he could afford the semen from one.

But the very best alpacas can fetch
tens of thousands of pounds

on the global market.

And I find it hard to believe
that all of this

is being done only for the good
of Peru.

Mallkini is a business.
It's funded by a business.

It has to make money.

Do you really think
this can be a reality?

The Michell Corporation
is not financing Mallkini

out of the goodness of its heart.

It needs Augustine
and the tens of thousands

of small herders like him to thrive,
not fail.

But what about Augustine's biggest
problem, the lack of good pasture?

Moises has been working on that,
too.

This field has been planted
with a mix of special grass

and alfalfa, a fast-growing,
pea-like plant.

OK.

This field can support fifteen times
as many alpacas as normal pasture.

Though it costs £30 a year to plant,

it would transform the fortunes of
Augustine and other small herders.

Alfalfa is particularly good
for pregnant and nursing mothers.

We seem to have walked into
a mini baby boom.

Though I still find it incredible
that no-one in Peru

has been able to match
the Inca herders,

I get the feeling
it's only a matter of time

before Moises surpasses
even their achievements.

Mallkini is an impressive set-up.

But can it improve things
quickly enough

to help families like Augustine's?

It's clear that Peru
has the knowledge,

has the expertise
and has the animals

to continue to be THE major player

in the alpaca industry
throughout the world.

But I think Peru needs Augustine
and Demesia to be productive.

It doesn't need its cities
to swell any more,

it needs the high Andes to be able
to participate

in a real and tangible way

in an industry that they are
rightly and should be proud of.

As Peru fights to preserve
the future of its alpaca industry,

I hope it manages to keep hold
of some of its traditions.

Preserving the best of its old ways

while embracing much-needed
new ones, too.

They seem quite keen
to get off the truck!

Next time, I travel
to the Australian outback

and experience shepherding
on an epic scale.

There's some here, Bob,
just on the right.

And I see the science of herding
being taken to a whole new level.

Have I just made a sheep?

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