Zoo Postcards From Another Era

These photographs are from a series of Milwaukee County Zoo postcards dated from 1963. The gorilla, tigers, and jaguar mother and four cubs pictures show what was then the state of the art in zoo design.

At that time, science and the concept of asepsis and cleanliness became paramount. Animals were literally removed from the natural element and housed in glass, steel, and tile boxes that could easily be cleaned and sterilized. Social needs were ignored, such as primates being kept in isolation. Taxonomic groups (the primate building, the cats of the world, the bird house) displayed similar animals side-by-side to educate the public about the variety and diversity of animals worldwide.

But, as people became more sophisticated, zoos evolved to present the animal in nature, in a "habitat." Attempts were made to mimic the actual environment. The tile bathrooms became a failed experiment that led to unnatural behaviors and that the guests found cold and confining.

The lowland gorilla by the way, is Samson, a huge male, the most famous animal in the zoo's history, who lived at the Milwaukee County Zoo from 1950 to his death in 1981. He was known for his mesmerizing stare and surprise attacks on the glass front, which he cracked four times.

The Animalerie at the INRB

I lived on the grounds of the INRB, a medical reference diagnostic laboratory for Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo) for many years, in exchange for overseeing the care of the laboratory, mice, rats, rabbits, and sheep.

The virology building is on the right, with the courtyard and the "animalerie" on the left, and the bonobo building behind. Left to right, the vehicles are my "Texas," the virologist's car, and Kizito's yellow and white former taxi.

At first for the French, and then for the Zairians, the tacit understanding was that I would take care of my living expenses through grants. After the civil unrest in 1991, the grants dried up and were mostly replaced by freelancing. I did conservation education projects for zoos, advertising for a telecommunications company, consulting work for field research on zoonotic viruses, and health care for expatriate owned cats and dogs.

Also, as part of the agreement, I was allowed to keep other animals on grounds for conservation projects. That is where the small group of orphaned bonobos came into being.

Congolese Coffee

One of the things I liked about African life was the coffee. The best arabica beans from the mountainous Kivu region came in one kilogram bags (2.2 pounds). The instructions to keep the coffee in the freezer in the plastic bag was in French, Swahili, English, Lingala, and Arabic. This product rarely found its way to faraway Kinshasa, the capital of Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo) where I lived.

The rest of the country, and me too, relied on the lowland robusta coffee -- the poor person's morning jolt. Every marketplace sold the watered down stuff, cooked up in huge, open topped pots, liberally sweetened with powered milk and sugar.

I learned the village method to roast the beans. Green beans were heated in a flat pan, with a tiny amount of palm oil added to keep them from burning. They were then pounded into grounds in a wooden mortar and pestle. The coffee produced was earthy, smoky, and rich in flavor.

After returning to the US, I found American coffee to be bland and stale. I now buy green beans off of the Internet and prepare them every few days, in a small household roaster.

I Know What I Want

Kizito and I created advertising for the telecommunications company in Kinshasa, Zaire (now the Democratic of the Congo) using social marketing. Telecel marketed cellphones, and one of their units, was called a "Telecel." Our sell tactic was a positive social message, such as the one above, where the kids are aspiring to be successful adults. We always developed the stories as a comic strip, as this was an accepted literary format. From Grains of Golden Sand:

"The story begins with kids who are jumping trampoline-like on old tires in the cité. The children argue about what they want to do when they grow up. One boy declares that he will be an Olympic champion. Another wants to be a pilot, and a little girl (with hearts in her word balloon) says that if her boyfriend wants to be a pilot, she’ll choose flight attendant. A second girl says she will study medicine and be a famous doctor. The children argue about their future professions—Lawyer! Businessman! Professor! One little boy hasn’t spoken, and the group teases him for wanting to stay a baby all his life. When pressed, the boy says, “…Ahhh, I don’t know what I want to be…”

"Then his eyes light up and he shouts, “But I know what I want to have—a Telecel!”

Lorikeet Video: Jacksonville Zoo

A flip video, a hungry lorikeet, and an enthusiastic family is all it takes to create a memory. With the aide of technology, videos, such as the one above, can be a permanent record of a special experience. Listen to the wonder, curiosity and "bonding" with a wild animal as two different guests talk to the birds.

The Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens maintains a walk-through aviary with Lorikeets where guests can purchase a one dollar cup of nectar to feed the birds. Those who are reluctant can watch the birds take nectar from other guests, and ask questions of the education guides, who are there to monitor the aviary.

The genus for lorikeet, Trichoglossus, is Latin for "hairy tongue." This brush-tipped tongue is used for soaking up the nectar, pollen, and juices from the flowers that they chew in the wild. In captivity they are given lorikeet pellets, fruits, and a commercial nectar.

Video by D. Messinger

Santa Goat at Jacksonville Zoo

This photograph is posted on the Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens website to advertise the special holiday enrichment day on Saturday, the 27th of December. At the Zoo, once a month, enrichments are provided on exhibit for the guests to enjoy watching the animals play with their "toys."

The holidays are a time for reconnecting with families, and friends. What better enjoyment than a zoo visit to follow the scheduled times for the treats given to the various animals.

Photo by: B. Smith

Kinshasa Local Market

In Kinshasa, Zaire (now the Democratic of the Congo), I used a Polaroid camera in places where photography was frowned upon or even illegal. This way, the people were "paid" by a gift of a picture of themselves. I kept a notebook were I documented everyday life, such as the above market place.

The bananas on the upper right were a variety that were relatively cheap, because they were not preferred; on the upper right were the highest quality of bananas.

The fruit and vegetables on the metal cart were being taken to the market where expatriates frequented. The metal body of the "pousse pousse" had handles in front and back for pushing or pulling, and sat on car tires. The carts were hired to carry goods throughout the city and were quite common.

Some local farmers had learned expatriates tastes, so they grew zucchini squash, cucumbers, large tomatoes, green beans, leafy lettuce, and small dark green watermelons. These products were rarely eaten by the locals. Because of the lack of long daylight hours, the vegetables were specific varieties, (many species will not fruit in the tropics). Due to the high rainfall, the crops were grown in raised beds to prevent root rott.

Shown in the bottom right photograph was a "grande valise," or big suitcase, of dried fish from Kisangani, The "suitcases" came in standard sizes from the villages, and these were the largest, brought in on the Zaire (Congo) river.

Follow Up: Year of the Frog

One third of the world's frogs are in danger of extinction. The American Association of Zoos and Aquariums (AZA) declared 2008 the "Year of the Frog" due to the loss of amphibian populations around the world. Frogs, such as this beautiful orange-legged leaf frog, are threatened by habitat destruction, climate change, pollution, and human over exploitation for food and for the pet trade. The stresses placed upon these animals makes them vulnerable to an emerging fungal disease called chytrid (pronounced 'kit rid').

So what happens in 2009 and beyond? The AZA is asking member institutions to continue their amphibian activities with the "Saving Frogs" campaign. It will begin in March with daylight savings time change, and will help zoos educate the public about the amphibian crisis.

The AZA will be taking over Frogwatch USA from the National Wildlife Federation (NWF). Frogwatch is a long term citizen science program that involves volunteer monitoring of frog and toad populations. By learning the calls of local frogs and recording those calls on a periodic basis over a breeding season, private citizens can contribute to a nationwide database of information. For more, see http://www.nwf.org/frogwatchusa/

2008 was the inaugural year that amphibian specific projects were funded by AZA's Conservation Endowment Fund (CEF). $175,000 was distributed to 9 projects, and these contributions will continue into the future.

Some of the work that zoos and aquariums are doing is the captive breeding of critically endangered species for eventual release, in range habitats that will support them. Due to the need to ramp up amphibian husbandry techniques, the AZA is offering a course in Amphibian Biology, Conservation and Management to be held in April, 2009, at the Toledo Zoo.

Photo by Piotr Naskrecki, AZA calendar

Skansen Zoo Keeper with Bonobo

Tytte Hellman was a zookeeper at the Skansen Aqvariet in Stockholm, Sweden. In anticipation of Skansen receiving six bonobos on loan, she came to meet them in Kinshasa, Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo). Tytte is seen with Tshilomba, a young bonobo who is chewing a length of sugar cane.

Tytte got along famously with the youngest bonobos, but Mwindo, the biggest male, decided that she was a newbie to be tested. Mwindo had developed a bad habit, due to the reactions of visitors (whose exaggerated shouts of dismay only fueled his sense of humor) by throwing whatever was closest at hand. His aim was excellent. Every time he saw the soft spoken Tytte, he launched stuff at her, some of it not so nice.

Because Tytte's time in Kinshasa was brief, we attempted a course in manners. To win his favor, Tytte fed Mwindo his favorite foods for several days, but it made no difference. It seemed that the nicer Tytte was, the more he took advantage of her.

We only had a few more days before Tytte had to return, so we came up with a plan to establish what should have been normal -- females are dominant in bonobo society. The event was carefully engineered -- yelling loudly, Tytte entered the service area with a blow-up plastic snake.

The sight of the shiny green snake that Tytte brandished was so unexpected that Mwindo immediately went into a submissive posture, flattening against the ground. In true bonobo fashion, Mwindo dry-humped the floor, screaming in a shrill voice. I was watching, and recognized the behavior that this male always did when he was felt insecure and needed to ease the tension.

As planned, Tytte immediately "apologized" to Mwindo and offered him treats. From that instant, Tytte assumed status as a ranking female. And in typical bonobo fashion, Mwindo accepted the apology that she was chanting, "I'm so, so sorry, Mwindo to scare you. I'm sorry, have a banana to make it feel better. I won't do it again."

Although the introduction worked well, the six bonobos were not destined to go to Sweden.

Stellingen Today

This old guidebook of Hagenbeck's Stellingrad dates from the mid-twenties, from the reopening of the zoo following WWI. The cover is a softly rendered watercolor, the middle photo is the "elephant gate" entrance, and the last one is of the African panorama, using hidden moats, invented by Hagenbeck.

A well-known professional zoo man and historian, Ken Kawata, recently visited landmarks of Carl Hagenbeck, one of the most influential zoo directors in modern times. Ken writes:

"Gentle rain kept falling, but the temperature was mild. For several days in late August 2008 I was a house guest of Herman Reichenbach, a noted zoo historian in Hamburg, Germany. I asked if he could give me a tour of historical sites related to Carl Hagenbeck, he gladly obliged and we were off to his birthplace. "It's a pity you weren't here a few years ago," he noted, adding that the house in which Carl had been born was run down and had to be demolished recently. There is a plaque on a building. This is where, in 1848, his fish-monger father, another Carl, began animal trading business.

"Nearby there is the former site of their menagerie in the heart of the famous red-light district. It did not appear that the current building was the original. The rain slowed down a bit, and we moved to the site of the Hagenbeck Tierpark (animal park) from 1874 to 1902. Actually it is a small lot (estimated to be 7,000 square meters, or roughly one and a half-acre) in a residential area, now occupied by a school and other buildings. This is where large mammals, such as elephants, giraffes and lions were kept, some of them performed, for nearly three decades before the opening of the legendary zoo in Stellingen. You can imagine how it was with the sounds of elephants trumpeting, lions roaring and the smell from the animals. These three locations are within an easy walking distance in a densely populated area, not far from the harbor.

"It was time to visit Carl Hagenbecks Tierpark, and we took a subway. When the zoo was in the planning stage, this area was a wide spread of potato patches in the outskirts of Hamburg. The zoo, opened in 1907, became a sensation with a revolutionary exhibit system; in fact Carl Hagenbeck left a profound influence in the twentieth century zoos, not only in the area of animal exhibitry but also in animal husbandry, not to mention the circus world and animal trade business. Herman and I walked through the new gate. After the recent redesigning the much-photographed elephant gate, which escaped the heavy bombing by the Allies, is now inside the park grounds.

"The statues of Carl Hagenbeck and his father still stand, as if talking to us in the now-steady rain. But I was anxious to take a view of the legendary African panorama which, fortunately, was not destroyed during WWII. The familiar image of the panorama from the old black-and-white photos changed a bit, as trees have masked the edges over the last century and a half. In this panorama, at the bottom level lies a flock of flamingos; up on the next level are the animals of the plains such as the zebra; lions, the predators of those animals, reside up on the next level and on the very top are mountain goats on the rocky hill. All these animals are separated from the viewing public by moats, dry or wet, but not by metal bars or wire mesh. The use of artificial rocks and plants to soften the reality of captivity is breath-taking. Moreover, the public walkways in all levels are skillfully hidden and you cannot see fellow visitors on other levels. The designer's tactful calculation of the sight line in this see-through, multi-moat exhibit is still remarkable. This is a shrine for anyone interested in zoo design or zoo history in general.

"Standing in front of the African panorama on that rainy afternoon, the oft-told story came to mind: Zoos around the world tried to copy the Hagenbeck-style design over the years, but the original still commands the supreme position. Today the Hagenbeck family is the king of the circus world no more, animal trading business has faded away world-wide, and zoos have made dramatic improvements in many areas internationally. However Carl Hagenbeck's legacy continues to impress upon those of us who can appreciate his position in history."

A little bit about Ken Kawata: recently, he retired as general curator of the Staten Island Zoo. Ken was born in 1937 in Japan and was mentored by the late Dr. Tadamichi Koga, Japan's "Mr. Zoo" and long-time director of Tokyo's Ueno Zoo. Ken came to America under the wing of Gary Clarke, director of the Topeka, Kansas Zoo. He went on to work at Tulsa, Indianapolis, Milwaukee, Detroit, and finally, the Staten Island Zoo.

Hagenbeck's Stellingen Zoo

This old guide book from the Stellingen zoo near Hamburg, Germany was the site of a zoo founded by Carl Hagenbeck, whose "barless" exhibit design influenced modern zoos. The 24 page guide is in English, with dates mentioned in the text that date the publication in the mid 1920's.

The book describes the animal exhibit barriers, "All lattice work and railings, or fences of any other kind, have been omitted when designing and building up this animal park and have been replaced by ingenious, invisible barriers. And these free and open grounds form the unique characteristic of the Stellingen Tierpark and may claim to be Carl Hagenbeck's very own, original idea and to represent his life-work."

The genius of Hagenbeck used hidden moats that permitted the juxtaposition of predator and prey animals. An African panorama had four separated layers. Hundreds of waterbirds were on a pond in the foreground with wildebeests, zebra, elands, bush buck, water buck, and savanna birds in the background. Lions roamed in a gorge further back, while a massive uprising of rocks 100 to 130 feet high displayed ibex, wild goats and sheep.

The history of the Hagenbeck family began in 1848 when the grandfather Gottfried Claus Carl Hagenbeck purchased some seals and exhibited them in Berlin, thus starting the first trade in wild animals in Germany. He maintained a small property to hold the animals that were in transit.

Some twenty years later, the father Carl turned the business over to his son, Carl, who extended his reach internationally and relocated the business to another location in Hamburg. As the trade grew, a new site of 35 acres was established, the famous Stellingen at the turn of the century. Carl Hagenbeck turned the animal trade over to his sons, Heinrich and Lorenz and he passed away in 1913. The zoo was expanded in 1911, but World War I led to the closure of the zoo, which only reopened in 1924.

Expeditions were mounted to the far corners of the world (Mongolia, the South Pole, Liberia) to bring back both animals as well as the peoples from indigenous cultures. Unusual domestic animals, and well as trained animals and circus shows were also seen at Stellingen. The firm delivered 2,000 dromedary camels to south-west Africa for the Herero rebellion.

Hagenbeck's Tierpark at Stellingen was unique for visitors, due to it serving as a way-station for animals. From the guide book, "In accordance with its character as a trading concern these zoological gardens serve as temporary accommodation for animals, which, after resting from their voyage and being meanwhile well cared for, are then forwarded to their purchasers. For the visitor to the gardens this constant change is of special interest, and it may be said that in the Spring scarcely a week passes without a large transport of rare and interesting animals arriving to be cared for, quite apart from the smaller arrivals that occur daily."

One Wet Photographer Coming Up!

Marbles loves the tools of the trade, so to speak. Here he is as a young adult, when I knew him at the Sedgwick County Zoo, in Wichita Kansas. Marbles is still alive, the venerable patriarch of the zoo's chimpanzee troop.

The following is a story about Marbles from Grains of Golden Sand:

"Marbles particularly liked to imitate the keepers cleaning cages. He would pretend to wipe the walls and public glass of his enclosure while the keeper worked. A few times he accidentally got the keeper’s broom or squeegee, and before demolishing it, he would diligently scrub or squeegee his floor. The ape-keeper’s joke was that someday he was going to give Marbles a bucket and brush and then nap while the animal tidied up.

"However, one day the keeper forgot to lock a door between him and the outdoor area where Marbles was. The keeper was hosing down the floor when he heard a noise. He looked up and there was Marbles, coming at him through the passageway, hair erect with excitement. Without thinking, the keeper threw the hose at Marbles and skeedaddled. Slipping on the wet floor, he managed to get out of the cage and bolt the door behind him. He looked back, expecting to see the chimp hot on his heels. Instead, Marbles was standing there, looking with surprise and delight at the pouring hose in his hands as if to say, “Hey, cool! It’s my turn to rinse!”

Photo by K. Wright

Bonobo Silly Face

Today, at the grocery store, I spied a child watching me intently from the shopping cart her mother was pushing. The little girl tensed her mouth into a caricature of a grin, and I responded with a similar grimace, raising my eyebrows to widen my eyes. She copied me, and stuck out her tongue.

Have you noticed how young children go through a period where they make "play faces," as if they are practicing for adulthood? Bonobos, too, make goofy faces as captured here in an old postcard from the Antwerp Zoo in Belgium, one of the centers of European bonobo study.

It seems to me that young apes use their faces to experiment with their emotions while determining the reactions that this has on others. As they grow up, they learn to use the codified expressions accepted by their society.

Snake as Security

This was a "guard" snake I kept in an aquarium at my apartment in Kinshasa, Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo). Mild mannered, this Honduran milk snake was usually calm, but if he was handled more than a few minutes, he would calmly turn his head and bite the closest object. I got him from a Belgian man in town who kept snakes as pets.

The advantage of a non-indigenous, brightly-colored snake was that no one knew what it was. It was assumed to be extremely dangerous. Everyone was universally terrified of snakes, so this one made a great personal protector.

I let everyone know that I kept snakes. For trips to the field, I took the milk snake in a bag, as pictured above, in a metal trunk that contained the funds for expenses. I would show the snake to the villagers, and then place it in the trunk, to let them know what a risk it would be to try and steal the money. It never failed.

Zaire Conservation Cloth

These faded remnants of cloth are all I have left of the first piece of material that I purchased, in 1984, in Bukavu, Zaire (now the Democratic of the Congo). I was a Peace Corps trainee with only pocket money to spent. Because the standard six yard length was too expensive, another trainee and I bought one and split it.

Little did I realize that I would never see this "Universal Conservation of Animals" again. I suspect that some organization commissioned the design, similar to publishing a book in this country . Cloth, made locally by a few factories was used as a sort of billboard for expressing sentiment, celebrating an event, proselytizing, advertising, or for political propaganda.

The Congolese culture did not appreciate animals, so animal motifs were relatively rare. That is why I cherish this one piece, with the circle of a dozen animals -- some rare, some not so rare, circling a map of Africa. For example, Zaire was the only place in the world with the northern white rhino (and they may now be genetically extinct), yet chameleons, zebra, and butterflies were quite common.

And although it was possible to venerate the rhino, I could tell that no one had consulted with the local people to come up with the list of animals. Chameleons were universally despised throughout the country, and impossible to touch. Their look could emasculate men, and, although they were captured to sell to expatriates, it was always hands off, with the use of a long, slender pole.

Leopard T-Shirt

Telecel, the cellular telephone company gave projects to Kizito and me, which helped keep us solvent. This T-shirt was the only artwork that we ever did that was printed outside of Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo), as can be seen by the high quality of the image.

Telecel had the shirts made up in the United States and shipped to Kinshasa. They were handed out to politicians, customers, and VIP visitors. There was some symbolism here, because the leopard was the totem animal of the then-president Mobutu.

The text read, "Telecel likes African Animals." We worked on it together, looking at dozens of photographs to get the leopard's spots right. Kizito had a difficult time with the branch, so we set up hunks of bark to sketch up close for the texture.

On the Trail with Bleu/Blanc

The children's magazine Bleu/Blanc was founded in 1996, in Kinshasa, Zaire, now the Democratic Republic of the Congo. In a land where ownership of books (other than the Bible) was unknown, culturing the idea of wanting/needing a magazine was in itself, an accomplishment. Once the want/need was established, getting the magazine into reader's hands became the most difficult part of the process.

There was no functioning post office in the country, so even the initial contacts, made with the schools, were personal visits. Above, a Bleu/Blanc staffer had taken a taxi to one of the suburban areas, where he had to walk to a high school, due to lack of a decent road. His briefcase had burst open, spilling the materials down the eroded trail that he was vainly trying to negotiate.

Photo by M. Kizito

Elephant at Kinshasa Zoo

"Kwanza," Swahili for "gift" was one of a pair of elephants that in the '90's the Zairian government captured at Garamba Park, and flew to Kinshasa for the zoo. The female of the pair died shortly after arrival, and only the young male was left. Without any thought for long term management, the project was doomed to failure. From Grains of Golden Sand:

"Wandering about the zoo grounds for days like a gray ghost, the elephant was herded with branches like a wayward milk cow. When Kwanza became obnoxious, the keepers chucked rocks to keep him away from the public. Desperately hungry for the food that lay beyond his reach, he knocked down the Ugandan kob and sitatunga paddock walls, releasing the animals onto the zoo grounds. Not one fence they had could retain him. At seven one morning, Kwanza rushed the main gate and escaped. The young bull elephant bolted down KasaVubu Avenue, pursuing the fruit-selling mamans that fled before him. The pachyderm was too famished to bother the women; he was after their wares. The vet lured him back into the zoo with bread, and the affronted market women were paid off."

Photo by D. Messinger

Chimpanzees at Kinshasa Market

In the capital city of Kinshasa, Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo), exotic animal infants were exploited as pets. Primates -- both apes and monkeys, were seen as desirable because they were engaging and human-like. From Grains of Golden Sand:

"Few challenged the legitimacy of selling primates. Theoretically, apes were a “protected” species, but by law, a person only needed the proper document to “own” one. The first attempt to control the trade was made in September 1990 when Jane Goodall convinced authorities to confiscate apes from sellers. American diplomats noticed animals openly displayed in front of their offices and took the time, effort, and energy to track down the proper authorities for seizure. Sometimes, the lengthy execution of the cumbersome paperwork and the requisition of military backup resulted in the creature being sold in the meantime. Or perhaps a tip would filter back to the seller, and the animal would have “vanished” by the moment of the raid. During the year that animals were being seized, a half-dozen chimpanzees were collected. Thus warned, the comerçants no longer openly displayed their ape wares.

"Confiscation works but only partially. It was not a panacea, but only one step in controlling trade by eliminating “pity-purchases” from impulsive customers. Government seizure drives the market underground where it becomes invisible and nearly impossible to monitor. The sellers, not surprisingly, became exceedingly secretive and cagey about their enterprise.

"The seizures had little direct effect on the comerçants themselves: they did not own the apes they sold. An owner would leave an animal on consignment at the market and specify a price to which the peddler would add his own margin of profit. If the chimpanzee or bonobo was sold, the owner would be given his price and the seller would pocket the difference. All risk fell on the owner of the animal, not the retailers. If an animal died from illness or escaped, it was understood that it was the owner’s tough luck. A surprise seizure was in the “act of God” category.

"It was no great hardship upon the comerçants if they were no longer allowed to display apes in public. In the African world of the big hassle, hiding the goods was simply another nuisance—the price of doing business. The primates were kept hidden, either at the owner’s house or close to the market where prospective customers were conducted to the merchandise. Similarly, seizure was never a financial disaster for the animals’ owners. Selling apes was largely a one-time deal for them. These travelers brought chimpanzees or bonobos from the bush to Kinshasa by convenience, coincidence, or calamity. The economic lesson of seizure was thus lost on someone who likely would never again transact another chimpanzee or bonobo sale."

The photograph shows two very young, and very ill chimpanzees in the main market, near the downtown train station, close to embassy row. Besides their small size, they can be determined to be critically ill by the swollen tissue around the eyes. Their "handlers" were not the owners; the animals had been placed on consignment at the market, with the understanding that if it died, the loss would be for the owner.

I discovered through several years of interviewing transporters, owners, villagers, and market sellers, that the "pipeline" of apes was incidental, (in contrast to that of African grey parrots) and ape babies were not comodities that people sought. A live, baby ape was a rare occurrence in the village, and travelers would be persuaded to gamble on a purchase of a few dollars.

Bonobo: The Forgotten Ape

In 1997, A Dutch zoologist, Frans de Waal and a Dutch photographer, Frans Lanting published a lavishly illustrated book on the bonobo. It includes an overview of behavior and is the only bonobo work written for the general reader.

Dr. Frans de Waal holds posts at Emery University and the Yerkes National Primate Research Center in Atlanta, Georgia. He launched his career with a study of the world's largest chimpanzee group at the Burger's Zoo in Arnhem, Holland. He was the first to talk about reconciliation, social reciprocity, and conflict resolution in animals.

Frans de Waal has influenced psychologists, behaviorists, and ethologists with his research on primates. He has written many books, including Chimpanzee Politics, Our Inner Ape, and Peacemaking Among Primates.

In Bonobo The Forgotten Ape, the author points out one of the problems: there are so few in zoos that their story is not known to most people. He talks about the joy of watching a group of captive bonobos, "The longer one follows a group, the more its close-kit social life will come to seem like a soap opera, with happy and hilarious but also sad and disturbing moments."

Frans Lanting is an internationally known, award-winning photographer who has a number of books, including ones on Madagascar, Jungles, the Okavango Delta, and Penguins.

Lanting has a wonderful website slide show on the origin of life, along with a evolutionary timeline that can be displayed with snapshots of the accompanying photographs at http://www.lifethroughtime.com/

Lanting visited Kinshasa to photograph the bonobos that I cared for. Several pictures of a young male and female bonobo embracing are seen in Bonobo The Forgotten Ape.

Boat Party

These young men are traveling on a small boat from Inongo, on Lac Mai Ndombe, to Kinshasa the capital of Zaire, (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo). They are singing, drinking, and having a good time on the roof of the vessel. The man barely seen on the right is dancing to the home made rhythms tapped out with spoons and sticks on beer bottles and metal objects.

The hold, packed to the gills with sacks of manioc, corn, smoked meat from the forest, and live goats and chickens was dirty and hot. That meant that the cooler roof was an ideal place to party and even lay out a mat for sleeping. Most of the people down below were the women who stayed there to keep an eye on their wares. They made a living selling rural products in Kinshasa. The women then purchased cloth, soap, matches, and medicine to return and sell in the villages.

The men in the photo were looking for family and/or school or employment in the capital city. Kinshasa was a magnet for villagers who had heard that its streets where paved in gold.

Photo by: L. Tembe

Wild Animals I Have Known

A book that influenced my career choice was written many decades before I was born. It anthropomorphised wild animals by giving them human qualities of love, loyalty, and integrity. In spite of some exaggerations, the tragedy of what happened when wildlife ran aground of man's hubris had a profound effect on me -- to my young, impressionable mind, wild animals were noble creatures that suffered without voice.

I happened to catch a PBS Nature show called The Wolf that Changed America on the author Ernest Thompson Seton. Seton was an anomaly -- a professional hunter who was also an observant author and artist. His epiphany began with a wild wolf named Lobo that he was hired to kill, in the Currumpaw region of northern New Mexico, in 1893.

The hunter Seton attributed near supernatural intellect to Lobo, who could not be shot, trapped, or poisoned. Determined to win, the clever Sexton managed to corner Lobo's female, a pure white animal called Blanca, who was killed by two lassos thrown around "the neck of the doomed wolf, and (we) strained our horses in opposite directions until the blood burst from her mouth, her eyes glazed, her limbs stiffened and then fell limp."

The story turns ever more graphic and tragic as Sexton writes how Lobo seemed to be crying for his mate, so even the cowboys commented that they had never heard the like. It was clear to the reader, as Sexton writes, that Lobo must die. The reader weeps with the writer, who is already regretting his actions, but says, "It cannot be otherwise."

Continuing the story in a straightforward manner, Seton wrote that he used Bianca's carcass to draw the male to an area set with leg-hold traps. Later, Sexton finds Lobo, with each foot caught in a trap, immobile and exhausted from two and a half days of fighting his fate.

Sexton decides to take Lobo alive and he describes how he manages to get a lasso around his neck, tie his jaws shut over a wooden stick, and haul him back to the ranch. Staked out, the wolf is indifferent to everything around him, and although food and water are within reach, he stares fixedly at the far horizon. Sexton was surprised that he did not call to his band. Lobo was dead in the morning.

The death of Lobo must have shaken Seton to his core. In the film, he writes a single word "Why?" as if to question the absurd cruelty of what he had done. For the rest of his life, he never killed another wolf.

Some speculate that the story was made up. Astonishing is the photograph of the downed wolf that Seton claims was Lobo, with traps seen on the three feet that are visible, (seen in the Nature film). I believe that the story was true. The capture of Lobo was realistic, and the description of the wolf's demeanor and death is typical for the blood loss, trauma, dehydration, and shock of days spent in the traps.

Wild Animals I Have Known was printed in 1898 and it was an instant success. It has been in print continuously to present. The Lobo story was the lead in a book that covered many other "named" animals such as Siverspot, a crow, Raggylug, a cottontail rabbit, the Springfield fox and Redruff, a partridge. There were also two dog stories (Bingo and Mully), and one on the Pacing Mustang.

Seton went on to found the Woodcraft movement which led to the Boy Scouts. He influenced Teddy Roosevelt and he lobbied for federal legislation for migratory birds and the setting aside of wilderness for National Parks.

As a child, when I read the story of Lobo, as well as the other animals that paraded across the pages of the musty old book, I had no inkling of the history behind it. All I remember was the searing story of the faithful wolf that died undefeated. As I have found out, the story of that single wolf influenced generations of environmentalists.

Bonobo Mwindu

Mwindu was one of the six bonobos that went to Holland, on a breeding loan from the Congolese government, in 1998. The keeper gave him his name, "black" for his extremely dark face. Mwindu was a playful young male who had suffered from severe malnutrition. From Grains of Golden Sand:

"I never completely trusted the moody Mwindu after he reached puberty, but we still played a “chase-me” game—a weaving, bouncing, feinting kind of dance, each on our own side of the cage. Mwindu adored attention and enjoyed being scratched. He would approach the bars and cling from them upside down for me to tickle his belly. Soon, I rewarded him with a tickle only when he placed his mouth in a “bite” over the bars and held completely still. I figured that, hanging upside down with his teeth affixed to a steel bar, he was incapable of hurting me. (His pose also gave me the chance to give him a quick exam, including checking the inside of his mouth.) Indeed, Mwindu never made an aggressive move while I was scratching him. Throughout the exercise, he would chortle with pleasure.

Photo: D. Messinger

Zoo Road Trip

Zoo people love telling story-jokes on themselves. I remember over thirty years ago, when I worked at the Sedgwick County Zoo, like it was yesterday. Then curator Mark Reed and two fellow keepers left on a mild April day in a borrowed truck pulling the zoo’s four-horse trailer. We were heading to zoos in North Dakota and Minnesota to drop off and pick up animals.

A day’s drive north of Wichita, we were caught in a freak Arctic blast. It began as a fine snow carried on a slanting wind. Shivering in light sweaters and tennis shoes, our group voted to forge onward. But the further north and west we drove, the worse it got. By the time we picked up our first load of animals at the Bismarck, North Dakota Zoo, the blizzard was a howling fury. (Contrary to our agony, the animals were all hardy sorts, so the temperature did not bother them one whit.) We holed up for the night, sneaking only the New Guinea singing dog into the flea-bitten motel room.

On the morrow, we turned east towards Minnesota to complete our rounds. It was the fourth day on the road and if anything, the snowstorm had intensified. The fifteenth of April was going to go down in the records as the worst winter day of that year.

It was amazing how many times we ran aground. First we had a fender-bender with a snow-bank, and then we slid sideways on the ice into the oncoming lane.
At one point Mark noticed another truck, just when we were turning left at an intersection, which swerved to the left, then right, then ended up in the ditch.

Reed’s comment, “You know, people around here drive like they’ve been lobotomized.”
On the fifth day, the last group of animals was safely loaded, and we were finally headed for home. At cruising speed, the trailer started to shimmy and dance.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Mark fought the steering wheel. Sweat popped as he rolled to a stop on the narrow shoulder. An inspection revealed that the hitch bolts had nearly sheared off.

This was serious. It was Saturday night in a small town. We found a local bar, inquired within, and sweet-talked a welder, “You’re hauling what?” into fixing the problem while the crated mountain lion eyeballed his every move from the truck-bed.

We were soon back on the road. We had made a huge circle into, through, and now out of the storm. Only two hours to Wichita. It was my turn to drive and I was blasting home on Interstate 35 at two in the morning. The road was clear except for some grandpa in the right lane going…55 miles an hour. As the law-abiding citizen I was, I signaled to pass on this desolate stretch.

I looked again, and suddenly realized that I was barreling past a Kansas Smokey. “Hey! Hey!” I hissed at the three slumbering forms on the seat, “I just passed a cop!”

Just as the words left my mouth, the dreaded red and blue lights began to gyrate. “Oh, no,” I groaned, “he’s pulling us over!” The people next to me stirred, looked back, then slumped further down.

“Yore problem, Delfi,” Mark snickered. Then, “So, just how fast were you going?”

I pulled to a stop. The trooper came up slowly. He sauntered around our outfit and squiggled things on a pad. Then he asked the driver, me, to come back to his car so he could verify some information.

He asked me where I was going and I told him. He asked who owned the horse trailer. I said the zoo in Wichita.

“Hum,” said the officer, “and ma’am, just how fast were you were going?”

Why lie? “I think I was going about sixty.”

“I clocked you at sixty-one, six miles over the speed limit.”

Jeez, I thought, he sure is a meanie to ticket me for six measly miles.

“Ma’am, you realize you were signaling left when you switched back into the right lane after passing me?”

“Huh?”

“Lady, you got some kinda electrical problem. You got your turn-signals hooked up backwards.” Lobotomies, indeed. We had made the entire trip through a blizzard with our lights hooked up wrong.

Top photo: Mark Reed and Delfi Messinger

Bottom photo: Welder, truck, and crate with mountain lion