Here Comes the Sun Bear

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Here Comes the Sun Bear

Mon 17/03 - 18/03/08

Hi-ho motherfuckers, back to work. Again, getting to the zoo on time doesn't go so well. We line up for our second, final, assembly. Prayers are said, words spoken and old school tunes played loud. Today, I'm working with Sun Bears. Jenny volunteers to help out and we meet our keeper, Jhotti, a 30-something Indian guy. Depressingly, the scenario is as it was with the big cats - many bears, only one enclosure. One family unit is released at a time, meaning at least six or seven bears have to spend their days inside, waiting for a chance to shine in the light, not exactly living up to their name. Some are banned from seeing the outside world due to successful escape attempts. They get extended time in the hole for making a break for it.

Our first job is to clean out the enclosure. I go around the fence, picking out any leaves that poke through and threaten to encroach on the electric wires- if just one leaf comes into contact with them, it can short it out. Then, as usual, we scatter some food throughout, and pour honey in holes. We move back inside the night dens, and Jhotti releases a family of three. One of them, a young male named Rocky, is a lively little fellow. Packed full of nervous energy, he sprints across the enclosure away from us. Jhotti points to the ditch area in front of the main enclosure, which effectively separates the bears from the public. Rocky loves to climb down into it and fuck about. When Jhotti shouts at him for doing so, he bounds up the ladder, looking guiltily over his shoulder and runs off to hide in a corner.

Inside, we clean out enclosures using the tried and tested hose method. The corridor between the cages is narrow, and we have to stick to the middle and be careful not to get too close to the bars - these guys look cuddly, but they've long, sharp claws, and will reach out and grab hold of you, with the potential to cause damage. We are able to go inside one of the cages, inhabited by Mary, a young, blind female.

In between jobs, we talk with Jhotti. He's the friendliest of the keepers we've met so far - he actually seems happy to have us around to help, unlike some of the others, who just tolerate our presence. I can see their point of view. A bunch of pale western skin jobs pitch up, wanting to get close and cuddly with their animals. These guys do this job everyday. It's their living. For a lot of us, it's just a couple of weeks in the sun with some furry friends. We can't teach them shit - at best, we save them some time by doing the menial crap like leaf-sweeping, freeing them up to do other things. The problem is, when we're only spending one or two days with them, most of the keeper's time is spent showing us what to do and supervising us whilst we do it, which inevitably slows them down.

Jhotti has a lot of animals to take care of, and always works alone, unlike many other keepers in different sections. After the bears, we walk around the corner to the owls. We wash out their food and water bowls, then do the same with the Civets, Secretary birds and Bamboo Rats. Then, after lunch we feed everything. Of all the routines I've sampled so far, I like Jhotti's best. The lions were an adrenaline rush, but there's more variety with the sun bears; staring out owls, watching secretary birds run around like Rod Hull's Emu and digging the rats out of their tunnels so the public can see them.

Today is March 17th. St. Paddy's. Not matter where, no matter how, I will always find a way to get drunk on this day. After we finish work, four of us get ready and go out - Amy stays behind. It's our first time out in Taiping. I've been encouraging everyone to venture out of the house to do our drinking, but it's a long walk and taxis are expensive. This means we have no idea where any of the bars are, or if there even are any. Taiping, like most of Malaysia, is a rich carpet of cultural diversity. Chinese, Indian and Native Malay make up the population. Only the Chinese stalls or restaurants tend to sell alcohol. Malay's are Muslim, so don't drink.

We walk around in a circle, then spot an off-license. I buy some beers, and Toby picks up cheap bottles of gin and vodka. We're hungry, and everyone seems to want to go to Pizza Hut. Once inside, we frequently flaunt Muslim conventions, and in less liberal settings we'd be given the lash. I'm brown-bagging my beer, and Toby mixes his spirits with his soft drink. We eat a lot, and have some banter with our Malay waitress.

After eating, we ask for directions to a bar. We head in the general direction, but don't see much. We take a left, and end up at a Chinese food market. They serve beer, and Guinness, so we take a seat. The Guinness is pretty shit, but I didn't expect to find any, so am happy to drink it. We amuse ourselves by taking modeling shots of each other, pulling out different emotions like pros. Then the dares come out - I'm asked to do a Gibbon walk across the courtyard. After the captain game in Vietnam, I don't have any hang ups about making a dick of myself, and do the walk all the way to the other side and back. For those unfamiliar with Gibbon choreography, they're quick and graceful when off the ground - when they take to their feet, they hop from one leg to another in a waddling motion, their arms waving from side to side above their head.

I replicate this with devastating accuracy. The locals look at me with a mixture of confusion and fear. They have nothing to worry about, though. This ape is tame and meek as a baby - I'll not sink my teeth into their flesh, like a true Gibbon would. Still, they're wary, so I don't do anything else too strange, in case they throw a net over me.

We decide to try to find a karaoke bar. Toby's had the good sense to make sure he's pretty drunk, but I've done my usual shit, going for the slow build. It works fine when bars and alcohol are in plentiful supply, but this is Taiping. We find everything shut. I'm frustrated - the night had potential, and I had a throbbing hard on for a legendary St Paddy's abroad - now, I have to apply an ice pack and go home flaccid and unsatisfied.


Sun Bears - day two. Between us, myself and Jenny know the drill and get on with the work without Jhotti having to waste too much time reminding us. He seems to want us to work with him again tomorrow, and I feel bad that my schedule is tighter now I'm only here for two weeks instead of four. There has been a fair amount of controversy building over the last fews days regarding who is doing what. Aida has chopped and changed and tried her best to accommodate everyone. Toby has requested he work with the elephants, and so the other three were moved from Orang's for two days. Today, though, Toby hasn't come to work. He has decided to go to town to spend time on his blog in the internet cafe.

Everyone in the group is tired after long days working in the heat, late nights and early mornings. Tensions are beginning to mount. I personally felt that those doing the Orangutan project should stick to working with the Orang's, at least in the mornings. By moving away to work with other animals, they not only seem to be getting two projects for the price of one, they are leaving the Orang' keepers, who expected four extra hands to help out, by themselves. Now, though, I've changed projects, so feel a bit of a hypocrite for continuing to act as zoo assistant for my remaining week.

I think if we'd all been given a schedule, with room for the others to work with different animals after finishing with the Orangutans, it would have been easier for everyone. As it is, only Aida knows what we are doing from day to day. I also think she is too eager to please and meet everyone's demands.

Things get worse midmorning. Amy comes over to the Sun Bear enclosure. She is unhappy that Tom isn't doing any work with the Elephants. As it happens, a student on a visit, with zoo keeper experience, has taken over our work and is cleaning out the cages. We ask Jhotti if we can go and help out with the Elephants and come back for feeding. We give Amy a hand, whilst Tom sits nearby, looking pissed off. Later, Aida makes a comment to him about not doing any work, and he leaves and goes home.

The rest of us are back at the Orangutan base camp at the end of the working day. Aida seems stressed. Amy is commenting that one of the baby Civets is unwell again. Yesterday morning I'd found one lying in its cage, and asked Aida if we could take it to the clinic. She seemed irritated, as though I should have just left it. She is now saying that the Civets are distracting us from our work and that she'll move them somewhere else where we can't see them suffer.

I start to feel myself getting angry. What bullshit. We have been anything but hysterical about the plight of these weird little fuckers, but Aida seems to be suggesting that we're overreacting, as though we don't realise that sometimes animals get sick and die. As we've come to a zoo to look after animals, I would have thought showing some concern for their welfare might have been expected. I tell Aida that she needs to chill out and that what she's saying is pretty stupid, but I don't want go too overboard so just walk away. Outside, it's fucking pissing it down. I tell Aida I'm off home, and she doesn't offer me a lift. I walk home in a tropical downpour, and every inch of me is soaked through. I know my trainers, which survived the mud of Sapa, will never get dry in the humidity.

Wednesday. Our last full day at Zoo Taiping. Tomorrow, we will finish at lunchtime, and get ready to leave for Kuching, Borneo. Everyone has turned up for work, though there is a tangible atmosphere of simmering tension. I'm working in the African Savanna. The keeper does not speak much English. Toby has been sent to work with me, and we sweep leaves as always. Then, I find the keeper to ask what to do next. He's in the Camel area, and asks me to take over. I don't get any instructions as to what to do, but basically, it seems to be the same deal as all the other night dens. I get the hose, and wash out all the shit. I wash down the walls, and clean out the food troughs.

When I'm done, I go to see what Toby is doing. He's with Aida by the Giraffe pen. It seems whilst I was dealing with camel turds, he has been watching the Giraffes (who are new at the zoo) being released and taking pictures. This just adds to the growing feeling that some in the group aren't pulling their weight. My mood does not improve at feeding time. I want to get involved and show that I'm a good worker. I get told to get onto the back of the trailer with all the food. Then, one of the keepers drives around the enclosure pulling the trailer with his tractor. He stops at various points and the food is unloaded. However, every time I try to get off to help distribute the food, I'm told to stay put. I'm fucking furious now. Aida is watching from the road side, and I know she can she the rage in my face. I feel like I'm just wasting my time and everyone else's, sitting like a limp prick on the back of a trailer, doing precisely nothing.

When feeding is over, I tell Aida that the keeper is a fucking dick. I could have been helping Jhotti today. He seemed disappointed that we wouldn't be around a third day, and I now share his disappointment. I could have been of use, sharing the work load, instead of being treated like an idiot. Did that fucker really think I was in serious danger from a bunch of Ostriches and small antelope as they rushed for their seeds and grain? Did he think I couldn't handle the responsibility? Fuck him.

In the evening, we sort ourselves out. Toby and Tom are told how people have been feeling, and we all resolve the issues without any dramas. We're team fucking zoo, and we're not going to let the negativity bug climb all the way up our assholes and die - we tighten our sphincters up good and reject that motherfucker. Tomorrow is our last. We agree to get up early and be in on time. We agree to work hard, with smiles blazoned across our happy white faces. Hi-ho, hi-ho - Grumpy has been kicked in the balls and told to get the fuck out of town, and the happy workers of the world unite.

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