Bonobo Akili at the Jacksonville Zoo

Akili, a 28 year old male bonobo from the San Diego Wild Animal Park, recently arrived at the Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens to serve as the primary breeding male for Lorel, Kuni, and Lori. He weighs just over 100 pounds and is the father of three offspring. Akili has not sired any babies since Jumanji, due to to social group changes at his former home.

The keepers say that Akili is very good with the young bonobos, but he is an outsider with his current group. Akili chooses to sleep apart from the others at night. He is suspicious, and will need attention and work. Once he accepts and trusts a keeper, he is a willing pupil.

Photo by San Diego Wild Animal Park

Okapi Guard Patch

This was the Zairian park guard patch. It featured a printed design of an okapi against a green outline of the country. The two brown and red designs on the side were the "fist and flame" taken from the national flag, and the material was folded over and hand-sewn on the back.

By the late nineties, I had been looking for years for this patch, probably because they were all worn out and were not being replaced. During the tumultuous years, the basics, such as uniforms for park guards, were ignored. On day, I met an official in a Bandundu Park, who offered to sell some grimy animal posters. "No," I said, "but you wouldn't happen to have a Park patch?"

"Actually, I do," he said, and he opened a dusty cabinet that contained a dozen old books and a few patches. The man said that they had been taken off of old uniforms. I gave around three dollars for the pieces above.

After the takeover by Kabila, and the renaming of the nation, everything changed. All of the old were destroyed and replaced by the new logo, featuring an okapi head. My patch has become a rare collectible.

Rat-Trap Cat

Around the bonobos, this cat was our idea of pest control. He slept during the day, and patrolled for rats and mice at night. In Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo), cats were feared and abused, because of a rumor that they carried tuberculosis in their fur. (This disease misconception came from cats' purr, the sound that people imagined came from damaged, tubercular lungs).

Outdoor cats are controversial, because they are indiscriminate hunters, taking rodents as well as song birds. However, over 30 years of research has shown that it is impossible to eliminate feral cats, because the "holes" created by their removal are quickly filled by new cats moving in. The best alternative is to neuter, vaccinate, and feed the ferals, thus creating a permanent, managed colony.

In Jacksonville, the city's Animal Control is now promoting such a program, and the Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens is following this lead by monitoring a vet-checked population of resident cats. Any animals that hunt song birds will be found homes.

Photo by D. Messinger

"International Conservation Project"

Dr. J.J. Salaun, the French Director of the INRB, seen with a baby red forest hog, was an animal lover. He wrote a "certificate" that the resident Pan panicus, (bonobos) did not belong to the institute, and that they were being held for an international conservation project.

The document went on to say that the animals' maintenance and food was assured by Mademoiselle D. Messinger. Knowing that, at the time, there was no such "international conservation" project, it was foresighted, and courageous of Dr. Salaun to protect the bonobos with this creative document.

In fact, within a few months, the French were forced to abandon the institute. Fortunately, I was able to use Salaun's paper to show INRB's successors and government officials that the original plan for the bonobos was conservation. The culture's respect for signed and stamped paperwork stood me in good stead.

Parrots and Peanuts for Sale

These Polaroids were taken to document transactions in the markets of Kinshasa. The top is a type of hard shelled fruit, laid out on a rough wooden table from the region called Bandundu. The fruit, sold in packets, is counted out and laid out in neat piles.

The mundane looking wood has an interesting story. The bark is called "Ngola," which is from the tree that gives the red color, which has cultural significance. (The bark is ground into powder, mixed with palm oil, and molded into solid blocks of "red," to be smeared on bodies or artifacts). At the market where this photo was taken, petty thieves steal by chipping off bark pieces with machetes. The red shavings were sold to Malian women who used the color to make "fetishes," (magic).

The photo on the bottom right is a smiling woman with unshelled peanuts. She buys peanuts, transported from agricultural regions, a sack at a time. She sells raw peanuts, or she may grill and shell them for a higher price. Peanuts were a staple of palm oil based sauces for meat.

The final image was of two market sellers with a cage full of fledgling African grey parrots. The birds all had dark eyes of young birds. These birds came from near Mbandaka, a center on the Congo river. According to the middlemen, the parrot trapping season should have been closed during the two month nesting season, due to the high mortality.

Village Names for Bonobos

Zaire (now the Democratic of the Congo) is said to have 400 different dialects. One of the tactics I used to get people to open up, was to show interest in village culture and language. I asked people bringing apes to Kinshasa what their name for their animal was. I listed a name as "verified" if it was confirmed by two different interviews, or was a name documented in the literature. Some of the names sounded similar, such as "Elia," "Eja," and "Edia." Other names were "Keza," "Yatole," "Emana," and "Mbanda."

Anywhere in Zaire, there was an overlay of several languages. There was the dialect, a regional language, and French, the official national language. Lingala was one the country's regional languages, so the Lingala "Mokomboso" was used throughout bonobo territory for the species.

The French language distinguished between the "white-faced chimpanzee," and the "black-faced chimpanzee," (bonobo). It was confusing, because many villagers only knew their kind of local "chimpanzee" and were not aware that there were actually two species. That is why I tried to interview people from known localities, with animals of known species, to determine the actual local names.

Lions at the Zoo in Kinshasa

In the draft of "The Fascinating Animals of Zaire," the main character, seen in the white lab coat says, "Happily, I found a job that I liked. In the center of the town, there is a "taste" of nature. It is here that I can do my personal work, to show to the citizens of Kinshasa the fascinating animals of Zaire. This is Zoo-Kin."

With the visitors (the little girl is hiding behind her momma's skirt), the text reads, "Is the lion the king of the animals? Everything leads to this impression: his majestic look, his impressive mane.... but what do the two females behind me say! It is the females who hunt, who assure the survival and education of the clan, during which, the Mr, well fed, can sleep 22 hours out of 24. He reigns, but he does not govern!"

Boom Boom, the Story of a Bear

The San Diego Zoo had a distinct advantage because it was located in a port town. And moreover, it was located in a Navy port town. Because of this, the zoo benefited from donations of wild animals brought in from exotic destinations from all over the world. (This was years before the 1973 treaty between nations governing the movement of wild species across international borders.)

A few years ago, I wrote a story about an Asiatic Bear that lived at the Lee Richardson Zoo, for the local newspaper. I had dug up the fascinating history from military documents donated by the daughter of a former Lee Richardson zoo director:

"In 1965, The Navy Seabees donated a sun bear named Boo Boo to the San Diego Zoo. A year later, the re-deployed Seabees were determined to find a mate for the first bear. They purchased another, from Montagnard tribes in rain forests located 150 miles northwest of Saigon. They named it Boom Boom.

"Bear Boom Boom, service Number is 000 00 01, served as Battalion mascot to the Naval Mobile Construction Battalion TEN, known as the men-of-TEN, at Camp Hoover, in Da Nang, Vietnam from September to December 1966.

"It was noted that Boom Boom was given a cage with tree, swing, and bath. He was fed dog food, which he greatly enjoyed and was taken on daily walks by his handlers. He escaped once, which led “25 Seabees on a merry half hour chase.”

"An enclosed photograph showed a leashed bear turning in irritation against his handler. A second man is wearing a thick pair of welder’s gloves, supposedly to protect against teeth and claws.

"Boom Boom was not an ideal recruit. As noted in the enlisted performance evaluation of his service record, “Assigned 2.0 in Professional Performance. BEAR has failed to entertain anyone. He takes no interest in his tasks and sees fit to just eat, sleep and in general vegetate all day.

“Assigned 2.6 in Military Behavior. BEAR resists all commands and at time becomes belligerent when approached. Further, he has not complied with MCB TEN Notice 1000 in that he will not keep his hair cut to less than 1”.

“BEAR has failed to perform his assigned tasks to any degree of satisfaction. He has not adapted himself to the military way of life. He neither accepts nor tries to carry out regulations or lawful commands He always appears in a complete uniform, but does not maintain a military bearing.

“BEAR often slouches and lets his abdominal muscles relax thereby looking like a slob. He has failed to correct his speech and writing deficiencies and it is suggested he attend the English class now in session.

“Bear has not tried to lose weight voluntarily, and thus it is recommended he be ordered to eat at the Fat Bear’s Table. Assigned 1.0 in Adaptability, BEAR is a loner. He does not try to make friends or get along with personnel in this Battalion.

“It is recommended that he see Dr. BATTLE at “C” MED for psychiatric treatment, because he attempted to strike the Medical Officer while he was performing required medical treatment – immunization.”

"Boom Boom Bear was originally enlisted for a two-years, but upon verbal orders of the commanding officer, he was “transferred under guard” to the San Diego Zoo where he was ordered to report “for processing and proper classification.”

"There was a problem. Boom Boom was an Asiatic black bear and the intended mate was a sun bear. The embarrassed military noted that they would henceforth carry photos of the proper bear species. In May 1967, the Navy gave permission for Boom Boom to be transferred to the Lee Richardson Zoo.

"So that is the true story of how Boom Boom came to Kansas. He lived at the Lee Richardson Zoo for 31 years, making him one of the longest lived Asiatic black bears in captivity."

Marilyn-Lori Bonobo at Jacksonville Zoo

Marilyn-Lori is a mature breeding female who arrived at the Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens from the San Diego Wild Animal Park with a recommendation to breed with either of two males (Akili, also from San Diego, or Mabruki, newly arrived from the Fort Worth Zoo). Twenty-one year old Lori (or “Lor”) is an excellent mother, with her two offspring who have traveled to Jacksonville with her (Jumanji and Muhdeblu).

Bonobos have distinctive personalities, and Lori is no exception. She is thought to be insecure at times, and shows impatience by clapping her hands. The keepers like the fact that Lori will take medicine from a syringe or spoon and that she drinks politely with a straw from a cup or bottle. She is a extremely intelligent, quick learner and already knows 27 training behaviors.

Photo by: San Diego Wild Animal Park

Bonobos in the Backyard

Behind the animalerie where the orphaned bonobos lived was a bamboo grove, grassy yard, and a few trees. When the bonobos were young, they would get playtime outside, where they could run about and climb the trees. Always, they were accompanied by a caretaker.

Photos by D. Messinger

Pony Mare and Foal

When I was twelve, the family moved to a farm south of Austin, Texas. There, I was given a old Thoroughbred gelding, and a pony mare, named Missy by some neighbors. From Grains of Golden Sand:

"The pony was a half-wild creature that had never been trained properly. Because my father had left the military to return to school, we were poor, and with six kids, always on a tight budget. The family had little money to care for horses properly or to buy grain, a saddle, or even a decent fence. None of this mattered. I was determined to make it work.

"My parents bought enough wire to construct a triangular pen anchored by three cedars where the animals could be kept, with ten bales of hay as my Christmas present. On weekends, I rode a half-mile to the main road whose shoulders presented a lush crop of weedy Johnson grass. There, cutting my fingers until they bled on the serrated blades, I pulled grass by hand, tied it into bundles and hauled it home. No sacrifice was too great. Every morning I arose at 5:30 to care for my beasts before school. Those were the best years of my childhood.

"Horses set me free. I fashioned rope bridles and rode bareback. I became an explorer and rediscovered America. As a rancher, I scoured the range searching for lost steers. I was a hungry Indian scouting for bison. I stood on my steeds’ backs to steal the out-of-reach peaches and plums within a ten-mile radius. I imagined what it would be like to take a cayuse and follow the railroad right-of-way across America. I’d read about the Pan-American Highway and wondered if I could actually take a road all the way to Tierra del Fuego."

The top photo shows me bareback, with a rope bridle on Missy, while the bottom is of Missy and her filly foal. The farm life ended three years later when my father took a job in Pennsylvania. I sold the pregnant Missy and foal at side for 100 dollars.

Notes on a Snakebite

Stani was a trusted bonobo caretaker who also stayed in my apartment when I went on furlough to the states every year. He watched after Rex, a guard dog German Shepard.

Stani took his job seriously, and kept meticulous notes on a tiny pad of paper, seen above. Usually, the comment was, "Nothing to note this day," but there were others such as the birth of triplet lambs, or, on the 14th of September, 1994, "it rained all night. We got our fifteenth day (of the month) advance on our pay. I made the rounds accompanied by Recks (Stani's word for Rex)."

The words from the 21st of September 1994 still chill me. Stani wrote, "A woman came, asking for Mademoiselle (me), seeking treatment for her worker, bitten by a snake in the bush, brought to Kinshasa by airplane, the health of the worker is critical."

Stani did not know who the woman was, and I never learned the outcome of what must have been a tragedy. There were plenty of venomous snakes in the field and there wasn't a drop of antivenin in all of the country, not even in the capital. Other than supportive care, medicine had little to offer a snakebite victim.

A Lesson in Lion and Zebra

The Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens, in partnership with the Duval County Public Schools and the Health Sciences Academy at Andrew Jackson High School has a program where high school students conduct research while learning about career opportunities. The student commitment is eight hours a week for eight weeks.

This past semester, eight students were each assigned to a keeper area to learn about zookeeping. They were divided into four teams to develop an animal behavior project. The teams were required to gather data, organize information, interpret their findings, and present the results in a formal setting.

In the top photo, the students are painting pinata made of a cardboard tubes with non-toxic paint to make a "zebra." The pinata is given to the keeper, who places meat inside the body of the enrichment, and places the enrichment on exhibit. The students watch and take behavioral notes when the lion is put out on exhibit. In this case, the lion crouched low, and stalked the zebra as if it was alive. He found the meat quickly and consumed it on the spot.

Photo by Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens

Moody Blue Bonobo at Jacksonville Zoo

This attractive adolescent is one of four new bonobos that have arrived at the Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens from the San Diego Wild Animal Park. Her name is "Muhdeblu," pronounced like the rock band. The nickname that the keepers have given her is "Moody" or "Moo."

Muhdeblu is seven years old and still dependent on her mother, named Marilyn-Lori. She is starting to become sexually mature, and has also helped raise an infant at San Diego. Exposure to infant rearing will help Mudheblu develop mother raising skills herself.

Photo by San Diego Wild Animal Park

Jaguar "Jaguary" in January

Animal keepers at the Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens provide enrichment items to the animals on a regular basis, as a way to encourage natural behaviors. On the third Saturday of each month, the Zoo features a themed enrichment day for the guests to watch their favorite animals enjoy special treats.

This Saturday, the 17th of January, the Zoo is featuring Jaguars! We call it "Jaguary." As seen in an older photographic sequence, a young female jaguar from Guyana goes back and forth between boxes, ice, and a happy face pinata. Review the enrichment schedule on www.jacksonvillezoo.org

Photo by Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens

A Snake on My Shoulder

Just before high school my family moved from Texas to urban Pennsylvania. I missed the horses and farm life terribly, but made the best with what was available. From Grains of Golden Sand:

"I became a passionate amateur herpetologist and kept dozens of snakes, lizards, and feed-mice in the family dining room. I housed them in aquariums, cages, boxes, and one glass-fronted closet, generously given to me for “the critters.” Although still in high school, I audited university courses on botany, herpetology, and entomology.

"I wandered the town, stripping fruit from trees bowed down with the season—dozens of varieties of apples, pears, and cherries, along with raspberries, blackberries, and grapes. Pennsylvania honed my interest in survival skills. Where Texas had little wild provender, Pennsylvania made up for it in an abundant array of edible foods on the green slopes surrounding the town. I ate fiddlehead ferns, dandelion buds, lambs-quarters, Indian cucumber-root, and made salt by scorching colt’s foot leaves.

“Pretend you’re in the bush,” I told my family and served cottontail rabbit (found dead on the road that morning), miniature wild strawberries, and cattail-pith salad. As they picked at the food, the single comment came from my baby sister. “Mommy, if I die, please don’t let her cut me up like she did the poor bunny.”

The above image is me with a boa constrictor, which was a prop in the senior class play, You Can't Take it with You. I snuck the snake into the school a week ahead of time, and carried it around the halls on my neck, in defiance of the rules. I was only one step ahead of the principle's wrath, who heard about it, but couldn't find the animal. I kept moving it from locker to locker, and the teachers covered for me.

Outdoor Classroom with Gorilla

Jacksonville High School students get a special view of the operant conditioning training with Quito, a male gorilla who is at the "back window" of the exhibit at the Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens. In the upper photo, Tracy Williams is asking Quito to present his chest for the stethoscope and in the bottom photo the gorilla is allowing his shoulder to be examined. (What appear to be wire baskets to the left and right are containers for the keepers to provide assorted food items at various times.)

The Zoo is in partnership with the Duval County Public Schools and the Health Sciences Academy at Andrew Jackson High School. The Zoo serves as the outdoor classroom for the Zoology Class. Students learn external comparative anatomy, ecology and animal behavior over 64 hours, and they are all required to conduct a "research" project.

Photo by Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens

Grooming and Endorphins

Molaso, an adolescent female bonobo, seems thrilled to "groom" my arm and head. This photo was taken in 1994 in Kinshasa, Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo).

Studies suggest that grooming reduces stress because the pulling of hair releases endorphins, the body's natural pain-killers. I can attest that Molaso would start by looking intently for small grit (I sprinkled sand on my arms to test this), but then finish by plucking single hairs.

Interestingly, many bonobos groom the hair from each other's forehead, perhaps because they like to gaze into each other's eyes. This may not be an artifact of captivity, because I have seen photographs of wild bonobos with bare brows.

Photo by B. Messinger

Polaroids of Market Salesmen

These Polaroid photographs were taken of the people trading in wild animals in Kinshasa, Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo). The image in the upper left was of a regular market seller who was extremely suspicious of me. Although several of his friends cooperated with me over the years, he never lowered his defenses. I was polite, but purposely did not ask him questions.

The upper right photograph was of another seller who traveled to the interior himself. He is on the left, with a parrot trapper from Boende. A number of people were African grey parrot specialists, and they made their living from the capture, transport, and export of this species. Most of the parrots with CITES permits went to Europe.

The lower left Polaroid shows two men that are looking intently at a young chimpanzee at the main market downtown. The animal has swelling of the lower eyelids -- a sign of malnutrition. The final photograph is of an man who brought a red forest hog from the village to sell in the capital. My research showed that, unlike parrots, other animals found their way to Kinshasa by one-time sellers, because there was no organized demand.

Fresh Caterpillars

During the nineties when these pictures were taken, paranoia in Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo) was at a high level. In the culture, taking photographs was stealing souls and it was also outlawed in public areas. To obtain these Polaroids, I had one of my people go to the port market called "Ndolo" to document the types of food that were available. They asked for permission to take Polaroids and they would always hand out another one as a gift.

The upper left photo shows a basin filled with live caterpillars called "mpombe" (singular, "epombe"). The freshly steamed mpombe are piled on the cloth in small packets, and priced to sell, to be cooked into other dishes. The seller remarked that this caterpillar only was found in one kind of tree, from the savannas.

The upper right photo shows cocoons filled with live caterpillars called "belanga," from the rain forest. As the seller explained, belanga eat leaves when they are small. When they get big, they move in a single-file line and go up in the trees, where they make the cocoons that are harvested and transported to the capital, for sale. Some people put baskets in trees where the caterpillars will nest.

Two things that were interesting about belanga was that seller said that they lined up and climbed trees at the same time -- he said it was around two in the afternoon. He also remarked that the belanga never pooped in their cocoons. This was a preferred food, because it was very fatty.

The lower left image was of fish being steamed in a "liboke," or tied up basket of leaves, over a grill. The soupy fish or eel chunks combined with onions and hot peppers kept the leaves wet enough so they did not burn in the heat from the fire. Liboke was the "fast food" for populations in towns and cities.

The final Polaroid was of a commodity called "bushmeat," or meat hunted in the forest and transported distances to be sold. The carcass is a smoked monkey that came by small boat into the port. It looks flattened because the organs had been removed and the body cavity had been opened and spread by wooden sticks for smoking. Meat thus prepared would keep for a couple of weeks, although it might need a "freshening" up by additional smoking. Smoked meat was rehydrated for preparation. Because it was expensive, smoked meat was added in small pieces to other dishes, such as greens.

Sampling Rats for Monkeypox

In 1986, conditions for sampling rodents for monkeypox virus in Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo) were rustic and home grown. The rats and mice were live-trapped by the villagers and brought to the World Health team every morning for processing.

The upper photograph shows me as the record-keeper and anesthetist. I had to grossly identify the species (and prepare the museum skins of questionable animals). I placed the entire live trap in the red wooden box, added the cotton balls soaked with liquid anesthetic (chloroform or halothane) and covered the top with a clipboard that was weighted down with a car jack.

After several minutes, I would remove the unconscious rodent from the cage and pin it out, belly up on a cork board for surgery, with the animal's accession number. The two nurses behind at the "surgical" table would quickly take blood by cardiac puncture, which euthanized the animal.

Two pieces each of lung, liver, spleen, and kidney were removed by surgical technique and placed in cryogenic tubes to be frozen in liquid nitrogen. The blood was spun down in a battery operated centrifuge and the serum was also frozen. All of the samples were split between Atlanta and Moscow for analysis.

Fieldwork was exhausting and difficult. I am wearing my stern, no-nonsense expression for the camera, and the ever constant gaggle of curious onlookers. We had no hotel to retire to every night, or restaurant to have dinner. Everything that we needed, we carried with us, and we truly lived off of the fat of the land.

Photo by M. Sczeniowski, WHO

Mmm, Tasty: Giant Snails

This village woman from Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo) shows off the preparation of an escargot dish, a la Julia Child. She is chopping the snails with a machete, in a wooden platter. From Grains of Golden Sand:

"The Congolese people are a diverse group of many tribes, clans, and families. Each district has distinctive art, legends, dance, dialect, housing construction techniques, hunting traditions, fishing styles, and eating patterns. What people traditionally eat and cannot eat is a part of their culture. Forest game animals have individual significance: some foods are permitted; some are rejected; others are favored; several are magical; and a few are only for men.

"I once spent a few days in a remote village just north of the Zaire River, 50 miles west of Lisala. It was March, which happened to be snail season. All other activities were put on hold while villagers frantically harvested the giant forest snail. The people had laboriously hauled water into the now seasonally dry wetlands and made a kind of mud bait, which was spread about to attract the snails. Men, women, and children collected the six inch long gastropods and hauled them by the thousands back to the village. Live snails were packed and sold to passing river traffic for resale in the capital, and many were consumed on the spot. I was treated to a meal of forest escargot---cleaned with citrus juice, minced fine, and fried in palm oil with onion, hot red peppers and lots of garlic. Finger-lickin’ good!"

Photo by D. Messinger

Swinging Bonobo Kaleb

Little Kaleb is swinging from the ropes in the bonobo exhibit at the Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens. Bonobos are extremely athletic and at ease with heights.

Photo by M. Brickner

Bonobos with Substitute Mother

Baby apes have a critical need for affection and the orphaned bonobos I saw in Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo) were no exception. They did best with a human "mother" who could provide them a sense of security and emotional stability. Stani was a good substitute mother because of his calm demeanor and because he truly loved his babies.

Photo by D. Messinger

Newborn Exam on Pudu

Seen with the mother, this baby is a southern pudu, a tiny species of deer that is only 14 to 18 inches tall. She was born at the Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens in the Emerald Forest Aviary in the Range of the Jaguar Exhibit.

The bottom two photos were taken during a newborn exam, where the baby was weighed and checked by the vets to make sure that she was healthy. A close-up on the face shows the large pre-orbital gland which is used by the species to scent mark their territory. As all deer, the pudu has spots as a fawn, which fade into the adult brown.

Pudu are very secretive animals that live in wet, temperate forests. They stand upright on their hind legs and even climb low-lying vegetation to eat leaves, grass, fruit, seeds, bark, and buds.

Photo by Jacksonville Zoo and Gardens

Moonlighting in Kinshasa

The photograph shows me with a client and her dog, in Kinshasa, Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo). I was treating the German Shepard for dermatitis, a common problem due to a lack of commercial diets. Owners often tried rice, palm oil, and canned sardines which was an incomplete diet.

From Grains of Golden Sand:

"It seemed that everyone moonlighted in Kinshasa. The more ambitious had a combination of three or four full and part-time occupations. Most of the institute’s staff worked in other labs or hospitals or were studying different professions in schools. A few of our own department heads, such as a parasitologist and virologist, were professors who part-timed at the INRB. After an unsuccessful attempt at raising chickens, Karhemere began teaching part-time. The institute’s administrators looked the other way when he came in at noon or was entirely absent.

"Without exception, government employees weren’t given a living wage. A physician working in a state hospital might earn three or four dollars a day, plus an abysmal benefits package. Worse, civil servants were paid only at random intervals. Months would go by before there was enough pressure and threats of strikes to force the government to release a chunk of the budget for its workers.

"In the Zairian way, I too found something else to do. My first job was the animal department and my second was the artwork, so “veterinarian” was my third. Unlike the others, I didn’t seek the calling; it was thrust upon me.

"Curiously enough, my first “consultation” was with a human. It was probably in 1992 when she swept in—an influential grande dame in the Belgian community, tall, refined, and wearing a chic short dress. She must have considered me a fright in my usual rubber-tire-bottomed flip-flops and faded African print smock.

"But that day her mind was not on haute coutiere. She came to ask me to help her daughter, who had foot dermatitis. “You must be mistaken,” I said. “I’m not a doctor. I work with animals.” But she insisted that I listen to her problem. The reason Madame came to me, she said, was that she remembered Dr. Salaün remarking how the bonobos I cared for suffered from human afflictions. She’d tried several physicians without success, and now the latest one wanted to test for fungus. She needed advice on how to have the test run at the INRB. Otherwise, she was determined to take the girl back to Europe for treatment. Voice breaking, she explained that she was at her wit’s end because her daughter had been suffering for months. The pre-teen girl had cracks so deep in the bottoms of her feet that they bled and every step was painful.

"I agreed to help and explained that fungus was both difficult and slow to grow in culture. Luckily, the tests were still available at the institute, and she could bring her daughter in to have a technician take a sample. I asked her what anti-fungal treatment was being used because it would need to be discontinued so as not to interfere with the test.

"She explained that the latest approach in a long string of trials was strict asepsis. The girl’s feet were kept covered day and night with clean white socks, removed only twice a day when the feet were soaked in bleach water. “Hmm,” I said. “That seems a strange recommendation for fungus.” I withheld further skepticism of the remedy but said that for the test her girl would have to skip the bathing. “And remove those socks and open those feet up to fresh air,” I advised. “Don’t let her wear shoes. Open sandals should be fine; look, like these,” and showed her my woe-begotten pair.

"The lady and her daughter didn’t show on the prearranged testing date, and I wondered if she had indeed taken the girl to Europe. Months later, she breezed into my office and plopped down a box of Belgian chocolates on my desk. “What kind of miracle was that?” she asked. “As soon as we took off the socks, it started getting better. Within two weeks, her feet were completely healed! Bravo!”

“No miracle; just good sense ,” I replied. “Due to the high humidity, a lot of people suffer from skin problems in the tropics. Without testing, we’ll never know now if it was fungus, but many skin afflictions respond to a simple uncovering and drying. We lucked out that the easiest thing worked.”

"That success rippled throughout the expat community. Scuttlebutt had it that there was a woman with a certain proficiency in common-sense doctoring. Many seemed to think that if there was an animal nurse who could cure a human, imagine the wonders she could work with Spot and Kitty. By 1993, we were practically the only vet game in town. From a handful of magic beans, I’d cultivated a rich crop of skills, and, it seemed, almost endless opportunities to learn more."