We humans love to play.
Over the last 300,000 years,
we have come up with thousands,
maybe millions of games.
We play to appease the gods.
We play to push our boundaries
and hone ourselves to perfection.
We play anywhere.
On sand,
on snow,
soil,
water,
tarmac.
On these playgrounds, we reveal our inner selves.
Our joy,
our shame...
...our glory...
...and our pain.
No, no, no.
But the origin of play is anything but fun.
Play has evolved from our fight to survive.
If we didn't play,
we would not be who we are today.
And this is how it all began.
This time of year,
the men of the Omo Valley in Ethiopia
are preparing for a ritual war game called donga.
For us humans, fighting is a way of life.
And so we like to play games that hone our prowess on the battlefield.
This is Barchiloy.
Today, he will have his first taste of war.
If you drink it, you will become strong, like me.
Just drink. This is the way how we drink the cows' blood.
Every player has a ritual.
Barchiloy prepares for his big day with an ancient superfood,
a pint of fresh cows' blood.
If you fight, you will be brave and strong.
You can‘t go to donga without drinking blood,
or you will be knocked down.
Now, it's time to play.
Okay, go fight.
This is just practice.
The real battle will be truly violent...
...played without any protective headgear.
These sticks look weak, but they can cause some serious damage.
Whoo!
When I fight someone and he falls, my girlfriend sees me...
and when she sees me...
she says, "My boyfriend is the winner."
When she says that, I become very proud.
It's where we get girlfriends. That's why our ancestors did this.
The fight is as much about impressing the ladies of the village
as it is about honing their skills,
but some will be going home with some serious injuries.
When we fight at donga, we can show how strong we are.
Even if someone loses an eye, it doesn't matter.
The men take good care of their bodies
before they go off to the battlefield.
The women have rituals of their own.
Bring the razor blade.
Are two leaves enough?
Add one more here.
They tattoo themselves with permanent makeup
to show the boys they are fearless as well.
Sit properly, please.
Be strong.
Don't look at it.
Enduring this without showing it hurts
is part of the game.
Barchiloy and his relatives
will now face other families from across the valley
to see who's the most fierce fighter.
Whether you play against a big guy or a small one,
it's up to you now.
Young Barchiloy has never felt the pain
of a real stick fight.
His uncles and cousins, however, are covered in battle scars.
The families are face-to-face.
It's time to fight.
First, the experienced fighters step up.
Barchiloy must wait his turn.
The game is simple.
You hit your opponent until he surrenders.
If you show fear or pain,
you lose.
This is a test of bravery, skill, and strength.
The fighters attack with deadly force.
One strike to the temple is an instant knockout.
It might look out of control, but things are not what they seem.
As soon as a winner is crowned,
the families sing and dance together.
The girls are curious to see how the men fight.
Another reason for Barchiloy to put on a brave face.
Next, it's his turn.
If I fight well, I will be known in the village and beyond.
When you are old,
people will remember that you were a donga winner.
For a first-timer, he's attacking well.
The cows' blood obviously works.
Victory for Barchiloy.
After a long battle,
he has been declared the winner.
Without any scars on his body, it is a moment to celebrate.
For the fighters that lost,
they'll return home with scars and stories that proved their fearlessness.
Fighting our rivals is something we've always needed to practice.
And the more we do something,
the better we become at it.
Throughout history,
we have dreamt up games that help us master skills.
Games to improve our lives and help us survive.
One tribe in the north of the Netherlands uses a different type of stick
for exactly that.
But this game is less of a battle
and more of a struggle to overcome...
water.
Centuries ago, farmers here found a way
to cross the myriad of waterways that run through their fields.
They leap to keep their feet dry.
And because we're humans,
we turned it into a game.
This one's called fierljeppen,
or "far-leaping."
Key points of the technique are a good run-in speed,
the ability to climb up the pole in flight,
and a good leap at the end.
As time and technology advanced,
the jumps went higher and further.
The record currently stands at an impressive 72 feet 8 inches.
This is Ysbrand,
a Frisian leaper who runs a dairy farm together with his girlfriend.
He spends his spare time training for the competition of the year,
the Frisian championships,
where he has a record to break.
This is my personal record.
If you have the Dutch record, you are also world record holder.
Or there must still be undiscovered tribes somewhere that also fierljeppen,
but I don't think so.
In a certain way, fierljeppen is old-fashioned.
We jump for absolutely nothing.
We jump purely for ourselves and for the excitement of our jump.
If I make the jump for a million or just ten people,
the experience stays the same.
Let's see what happens tomorrow.
It would be great to put down 65 or 68 feet.
Yes, right? 21, I would think.
I've trained enough.
It should be possible.
Yes.
Every Frisian, whatever approach he has to the sport,
wants to shine at the Frisian championship.
That's the match you need to be at.
Welcome to the Fries championship fierljeppen in Wezum.
Five classes competing for five titles.
Go for it.
Fifty-nine feet and 34 inches, and he jumps his personal record.
Our next contender is Ysbrand Galema.
This man jumps an average of 2,063 meters.
Unbelievable, a Fries record for a reason, and that for the whole season.
He is the man to beat.
And you always want to see a man like that in the final.
But he will have to do it himself.
I know I have it in me, but can I show it?
That you eventually find the person in yourself that you can be proud of.
That would be great. If everything comes together.
I think once you achieve that,
then you have the same emotion from the first time you jumped as a kid.
Then the big flying can begin.
Ysbrand has only one chance left to beat his competitors...
...who seem to be doing much better.
What a crazy finale.
This is the interim score for the seniors
and Ysbrand Galama is not there yet.
Ysbrand Galama, the classification leader is ready.
He managed to win four matches.
The record is in his name, a distance of 2,153 meters.
Ysbrand Galema, who wants to go to the finals.
Will he make it happen?
All or nothing for Ysbrand Galama!
No, he can't do it!
- The strangest finale I've ever seen. - Yes.
This time, the water defeated Ysbrand.
Maybe one day, he'll break the record.
After all, practice makes perfect.
You always think,
"If I had another jump, I would have made it."
The far-jumpers leap because their ancestors found a way
to traverse their pastures.
For thousands of years, the only thing that really mattered to us
was growing food.
And play is the perfect way to hone our techniques.
But taming waterways is one thing,
taming wild beasts is another.
Before we started to cultivate the land and raise livestock,
we humans ate what we gathered
and what we hunted.
On the steppes of Northern Kyrgyzstan,
an ancient hunting tradition is still alive.
More than 3,000 years ago,
someone in the steppes of Central Asia came up with the brave idea
to catch and tame the greatest hunting weapon in the sky...
the mighty golden eagle.
This is Jebide and her partner, Talgar.
We don't just go out and kill animals.
We also need nature tomorrow.
Our children will need it.
This gathering
has continued so we won't forget the tradition of our ancestors.
We need to continue the history we have
and preserve it as a game.
In ancient times,
the art of capturing, training, and hunting with golden eagles
was part of nomadic life on these desolate steppes.
But even back then,
hunting was more than just a way to feed ourselves.
The bond between man and bird transcended our quest for food.
The eagles were worshiped as celestial beings,
connecting us to the gods.
- Good luck for us! - Amen!
Now let's move, it'll be late.
And hanging out with our feathered friends is also great fun.
Going hunting is a game.
You run fast and forget about your old age.
If a person doesn't play, he gets old quickly.
There is one big advantage for the older players.
It's a waiting game.
We live only once.
What a beautiful nature.
It's a game if you fill your heart with joy.
Do you think they scared the prey away?
If it comes out from under the rock, it will flee that way.
- There's a rabbit. - Where?
Shall I release it?
Go!
Run, Azim!
Eagle hunting is a bit like fishing.
The more impressive the catch,
the bigger your bragging rights.
Well done.
Just pull it out and eat.
- Nursultan, I am lucky. - Well done. I'm happy for you.
It's a big hare.
It's a good catch.
Today, there's not too much to brag about.
But there are a few small war wounds to show off back home.
I was lucky.
The eagle's claw punctured the skin.
I barely managed to take out its claw.
It went in deep.
Hold on.
The people here don't need to hunt anymore to survive.
But the thrill of the chase and the buzz of the catch
are still intoxicating.
I can't imagine myself without playing.
I can't imagine myself without my eagle bird.
I can't imagine what kind of person I would be in this life.
There is such a strong connection, there is no end to it.
It was a good hunt.
- See you. - Take care.
Take care.
For centuries, this playground has hardly changed.
The only difference, a ride home in a comfortable car.
If you can get it started.
Quickly!
There is something within us
that will always want to tame the beasts around us,
harnessing their skills to make our lives better.
And whilst these eagles help the nomads find food in the freezing cold tundra,
the hottest deserts on the planet provide a different challenge.
When humans migrated here thousands of years ago,
we tamed the camel to traverse this harsh environment.
They became the ships of the desert
and helped us trade across the Sahara and build the pyramids.
Not long after the camel was turned into a beast of burden,
humans came up with something else to do,
camel racing.
We inherited it from our parents and grandparents.
We inherited it from a long time ago.
It's a tradition. It's indispensable.
In modern-day Dubai, racing camels are treated like royalty.
They are worth more than the shiny sports cars the sheikhs love to import.
Milk and honey drink.
We always give them honey of fennel.
We get it from the mountains. We don't give them just any honey.
It gives them strength, to strengthen their bodies during the races.
Abdullah and his family
have been breeding champions for generations.
But in recent decades, this ancient game has changed completely.
The Arabian camel is known as a dromedary,
which is the Greek word for running.
The lighter the jockey, the faster the dromedary.
Races used to import children
from poor countries such as the Philippines
to become professional riders.
But it's a dangerous game,
and there were many casualties.
Fortunately, human rights laws were introduced to put an end to this.
But the sheikhs have found a modern solution
to keep this ancient game alive.
Makeshift robots.
Dressed in their team colors,
these anonymous little fellows are very low maintenance.
In comparison to the camels, they cost virtually nothing.
The only thing they need is a small amount of electricity.
The drill-powered jockey is designed to speed up
and slow down in response to the noises that come from the camel's trainer.
We added this automatic device
that automatically raises the flag.
Camels are used to robots.
You talk to them and they understand, but they don't speak.
They understand you and obey your instructions.
The robot is very useful.
Now, all that's left to do is pray that it goes smoothly.
For Abdullah and his colleagues, the big day is here.
Today, they can make millions if their camel performs well.
The robo-jockeys will be under their owners' complete control.
In the old days, thousands of spectators flocked here.
These days, they can follow the race
through an app in their air-conditioned desert palaces.
So the stadium is empty.
The Sheikh connects his phone to the TV screen
and watches a race.
If you finish the race in first place, they buy your camel.
If it was valued for a million, they would give you more.
They would honor you, give you a car or something.
Because the winner is worthy.
What's the frequency of the channel?
The camel's speed is incredible.
It's much faster. The speed has doubled compared to the past.
When the last kilometer has reached,
you pass it on via a headset and strain it.
Abdullah's camel takes the lead,
but if there's one thing you can be sure of in camel racing,
it's not over until they cross the finish line.
Abdullah's camel and jockey came in third,
which means it's unlikely he's going to get a call
from one of the wealthy sheikhs.
Just like the camel racers,
every player of every game is taking part in a ritual
that is almost as old as the human race.
Winning a game, no matter how simple,
is a feeling humans have always yearned for.
It's a desire that transcends age and race that we will never shake.
And locked inside the games we play
are the secrets of our survival.
We play to learn the key skills that keep us alive,
to hunt for food, wage wars,
tame wild beasts,
and survive in harsh terrains.
We are who we are today because we play.