Farewell to Zoo Taiping

---

Farewell to Zoo Taiping

Thurs 20/03/08

And so again, another ending. The alarm clock rings its bell, and my eyes open up to the last day of being a zoo keeper. We all make an extra effort to get up and out of the house in good time, and maybe for the first time we arrive together, before 8am. Today has to go well. I don't want to end the zoo experience with a bad taste in my mouth. Things got a little out of hand the last few days, and communication in the group broke down badly. Today, the karma must flow like clear, warm waters. No more drama. We will pull together and act like professionals.

The others are all back in the Orangutan area. I'm working in the snake enclosure. I fucking love snakes, so I'm excited. Things go fairly well, though I'd like to be given more to do. Again, things have been organised late, so the snakes don't need feeding, which would have been good to see. Still, I try to remember why I'm here; I'm not a fucking tourist, just popping in to get a good look at their favourite animals. The way I see it, we should treat our time in the zoo like it's our job - we do whatever needs to be done on any given day, and if we get to mess around with a few animals along the way, that's a bonus.

So, I get on with cleaning around the snake area, using a big leaf as a broom to sweep the road clear. I wash out the drain, and then help the keeper feed some of the other animals nearby. We visit three or four different types of antelope, and as it's my last day, I don't feel too bad about taking pictures while I work. The keeper is a pretty cool guy - he's a Hindu, and tells me there's going to be a festival tonight, up at their temple on a hill somewhere. It would be good to go, but tonight is our last, and we're going to take Aida out. We finish all the work that needs to be done by mid-morning, so the keeper asks if I'd like to play with one of the snakes.

I'd love to say he got out one of the King Cobras, or a Pit Viper, and I went all Steve Irwin on its arse, dropping to my knees and fucking around with it, driving the poor bastard crazy, wiping venom out of my eyes with reckless abandon, but with my record of getting mauled by whatever creature I come into contact with, it's probably no bad thing that he hands me a medium sized python. It makes no attempt to throttle me, or swallow me whole, and we get along just fine. I go to help the others, who are now feeding the Otters. Otters are a lot of fun - they run right up to us, between and around our legs, and snatch fish out of our hands. One grabs Jenny's camera strap in its mouth, and then hangs from it, swirling round and around like a spinning top. Outside, the general public crowd the glass window to watch, and I wonder who the main attraction is - the cute little otters, or the westerners, prancing about in the mud chucking fish.


The rest of the day is spent walking around, taking photos. There are a lot of animals I didn't get a chance to work with or even see, like the hippos. Aida has managed to sort us out with our own Zoo Taiping shirts, which we nagged her about constantly, though tongue in cheek, so we put them on and do a final tour, saying goodbye to all the critters who's shit we've been shoveling for the past fortnight. We spend a bit of time with the Elephants - the first time I've got to see them up close. We're separated by a thin piece of electric wire, and they come right up to it, and grab hold of us with their trunks, giving us a rough, coiling handshake.

I go and spend a bit of time with Amy the Lemar, and say goodbye to Julie. The longest farewells are saved for the Gibbons, most specifically Simon. He may have taken a shot at me, exposing me to potentially fatal monkey illnesses, but I don't hold it against him. Gibbons are amazing creatures - they don't generate the same levels of hype as Orangutans or Chimps, and not that many people would pay big bucks to travel across the globe to do The Gibbon Experience. For me, though, they're number one. The eyes don't hold the same intelligence as an Orangutan, but that's part of the appeal - these wild creatures have less in common with us than the great apes, so when you interact with one, it's a more alien experience. And when you bond with one, all be it as he chews on your flesh, it's somehow more rewarding.

I feel sorry for Simon and Angela. They can hear their outdoor buddies cry out from across the zoo, and they must yearn to be out there with them, climbing an actual tree, and warming in the sun. No wonder Simon bit me. He just wanted a taste of freedom, and thought I was holding him back. If I thought he'd survive out there, I'd pack his bags and let him go in a flash. The one thing thing strikes you most when working in a zoo is how sad it is to see wild animals stuck in cages or small enclosures. Even the best zoos, with all the will in the world, can't come close to reproducing an animals natural environment. Freedom is what defines it - the ability to wander as far as the landscape and your instincts will allow you. A zoo is the antithesis of nature - it's all about captivity. Even if the intentions are noble and a species' chances of survival are increased by the work a zoo does, from what I've seen the animals will generally fall far short of happiness. The Orangutans, for example, are all overweight and lifeless. They just sit in the same spots every day, gazing at the crowds and holding out hands begging for food.

We all walk slowly away from the zoo, and home. We have arranged to have dinner and go bowling with Aida. As always, things don't go smoothly. I phone for a taxi, and the man on the end of the line speaks gibberish. The taxi doesn't come, and Aida is getting impatient. Eventually, we get picked up, and turn up at the restaurant, only an hour late. Despite being Muslim, Aida has a good knowledge of where all the bars are, and has picked a venue that serves alcohol, so no need for St Paddy's-like covert operations.

We eat and drink, and once again many pictures of us pouting are taken. This, somehow, has become our patented pose, and I think it's a good look. After dinner, Aida drives us to the bowling alley. This place does not serve alcohol, and like the degenerate I am, I go on a desperate and fruitless, mission to find some liquor. I've lost count of how many times I've wandered the streets of Taiping, unable to find what I'm looking for. I know that it's there, somewhere, hidden in the shadows. It just always seems to elude me. I go up and down a few blocks, and then return to the bowling alley empty handed.

So, no drinking, then - just throwing rocks. None of us are especially good. We're all wearing our Zoo Taiping shirts, so look very professional, like a team, out for a practice session before a big tournament. It would only take a casual observer a few seconds to register that the look is purely superficial - we're no Big Lebowski's.

In the lane next to us, a group of Asian men are putting us to shame, bowling strikes and spares with regularity. In contrast, we fare less well. Jenny keeps things respectable in the first frame, leading the way. Tom is all power and no accuracy - he fires the bowls down the lane ferociously, and they hurtle along like fucking scud missiles. Unfortunately, too many wind up veering off target and dropping harmlessly into the gutter. Amy, Toby and Aida have their moments, but inconsistency ruins their chances of a good score.

I'm not doing too bad, if only in comparison with the rest of the group. Then, Amy points out a defect in my style, and captures it on video for me to see. When I release the bowl, instead of planting my right leg behind the left like normal, my leg flies out in some sort of camp little spasm. I look like I'm doing ballet, or just mincing like a tart.

I find this revelation a little disturbing, and become quite self-conscious, making an effort not to skip like a ponce whenever it's my turn. This affects my bowling prowess, and my scores are not the same once I tone down the gayness. Jenny wins the first game - I can't remember who wins the second. Maybe Toby. It's not me, so it doesn't really matter.


We move on, and try to find a karaoke venue, yet again. This time, we're successful, stumbling upon one hidden away above a Chinese food court. We've bought some beers, and can only bring open ones inside, so I have to drink a couple quickly, and then hand a few out for others to carry in. We get shown to our own private room. The song selection is pretty weird, and they don't have many of my specialties. Oh well. There's no crowd to please here. Aida, bless her, is a terrible singer, and so not out of place among us. We do a bit of Bon Jovi, some Papa Roach and I do a twisted Elvis impersonation. Vegas, baby, I ain't heading your way anytime soon.

We sing our hearts out until closing time at 2am. We're sick with addictions and wanna carry on singing and drinking, but nowhere is open. We are forced to return to the house. Aida comes in for a while, and watches our drunken shenanigans. After an hour or so she leaves. We have to be up early as our transport will pick us up at 9am. We're all in the girls room again, and myself and Toby are lying either side of Amy on her double mattress. I'm pretty wasted, and I think she wants us to leave. However, we were invited in, so she'll just have to be a good host, and put up with it.

Slowly, blackness descends. When I wake again, it's 4am. I get up, and go to my own bed. Amy has been driven downstairs and is sleeping on the sofa. Last night in our shit-hole house. I loved the zoo, but the house was a different story. Ants covered everything, the bathroom was always wet and muddy, the shower never hot and the furniture frequently dismembered. Our bins were emptied all over the street most days by monkeys, and our "oven" was a filthy black fire hazard.


I lie back and remember all of the shit that has happened over the past two weeks. I'm used to the routine, but it's over before it really got going. It's strange how quickly our reality stretches and elongates, making it feel like we've been doing shit forever, when really it's only been a couple of weeks - the early morning shake downs as I force myself out of bed and under a cold shower; the bleary-eyed walk to the zoo, the roadside packed with wild Macaques; the lunch times in the cafeteria, glaring at the fat lady at the til; the internet cafe, the supermarket, the food courts - they all seem like flash cards from a slide slow that's has been going on and on for years.


I remember the old Chinese man at one food stall, walking around in a string vest, tight shorts and gum boots. I remember the learning disabled girl, always sat outside another, tied to her chair by a piece of rope whilst her parents work. I remember getting soaked in the rain, which would pour out of the sky everyday at precisely 3.05pm. I remember the sound of the crickets outside our house. I remember the smell of wet Orangutan, which clings to our clothes and hangs around the house like the apes hang in the trees.


In an ideal world, I'd have spent my full month at the zoo, and then gone to Borneo. I'd have liked to got to know the job and the keepers better, and to have been more use. We all wanted to contribute more ideas for how enclosures should be, or what types of enrichment the animals are given. This never really happened. We weren't exactly bulimic with ideas, but that was mainly because we got the impression pretty quickly that they weren't that welcome.

It's a shame. We never pretended to know more about zoo life that Aida or the staff, but surely the point of us coming here was to improve things in some way, if we could. We would have gladly painted walls, built exhibits or shown visitors around - things we were all expecting to do when we arrived. Instead, a lot of our time was spent just hanging around in between husbandry and feeding.

And so, it ends now. Some things I'll miss - the sound of the Gibbons calling to each other across the zoo, the look in Simon's eyes as he bows his head to be scratched and the adrenaline rush as you walk through the Lion's night den. Other things won't be so hard to leave behind - the boredom of Taiping town centre, the greasy filth of the house and the frustration of not being allowed to have input into how things are done.

Tomorrow evening, we join up with the other group from Zoo Negara. I arrived too late in KL on my first night to meet any of them, so I only have the words of the others to go by. I don't know how I feel about our impending union. I kinda like being part of a small group. I like that fact that I know everyone, and they know me. Mixing it up and getting familiar with new faces will feel strange, at least at first. There are so many things that could go wrong - there could be conflict, division or bitchiness. They might shame us with tales of how great everything at their zoo was.

Still, I've paid my money and made my bed, so I'm not going to worry. Whatever happens, happens.


The next morning, Aida arrives to see us off. We get into the van and head for the airport. Half an hour or so into the journey, we hear a phone ringing. Tom puts a hand into his pocket, and pulls out the volunteer phone, which Aida has been ringing to find out where it is. So, we finish we another fuck up, to add to the long list - furniture, fires, flesh wounds and fights - what now our chances of a place in Aida's top three? Little to none, I'd say.


Farewell, Taiping - you can rest easy now, your shit in good order - safe and unfucked.

---