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Panda, Inc.
JULY 2006
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In some cases these accounts are edited versions of a spoken interview. They have not been researched and may differ from the printed article.
Photograph by Mark Thiessen



Photographer Michael Nichols
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Panda, Inc.

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    Now I know why people are so crazy for pandas; watching Tai Shan for four days in Washington, D.C., was quite fun. The cub was infinitely cute, which is usually not my thing to photograph, but it was impossible not to adore him.
    I was also inspired by the National Zoo's concept of allowing Tai Shan's mother to raise him. It's a very different idea in the panda factories in China, where babies are brought up by humans. That's a method that doesn't nurture a panda's wild instincts and makes it impossible for them to ever raise their own offspring in captivity.
    So the moment I saw Mei Xiang and Tai Shan playing together in front of my lens, I knew I had an image that told the right story.
   I rarely do short assignments, preferring to stay immersed in the subject. When this started, I told everyone that a baby panda playing in the snow would be the image that lasts forever. In my days at the zoo, I figured out the little guy's habits and knew if I could possibly get the weather, I would have an image to remember. But I had a window of only one week to shoot before I was swept away with other commitments. Last winter, the only significant snow for D.C. came during a time when I was traveling on another project. And what was the front page of the Washington Post? A cute panda infant playing in the snow.
    Tai Shan is a rock star. Every day I would see the same people getting to the zoo as soon as it opened. They whispered, "I've been here every day since the birth."
    I met so many nice people who came together over this little animal. The standing-room-only crowd would gasp when Tai Shen did anything besides sleep. It was very inspiring and not to be dismissed lightly. By association, I was even a celebrity. One couple helped me with my heavy cameras and gave me a bottle of wine.
    On a cold Saturday in January, I stalked four women dressed in panda stuff: hats, buttons, coats, even shoes. When I introduced myself to avoid them calling the police, one of them said, "We come every Saturday. And by the way, I'm the head chef at the National Geographic cafeteria." 
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