Recently, the scientific community confirmed that Homo sapiens’ closest cousin is so genetically similar that they could even be considered their siblings. On September 3, 2005 data demonstrating how close the two species truly are was published in Science News and it announced to the masses that these two primates have at least ninety-six percent of mutual genetic material. Later publications found on the web disclose that true figures are up and around ninety-nine percent mutual genetic materials. In fact most people who happened to glance over the two sets of genetic blue prints (genomes) would find that they are virtually identical.
One might say that all this hoop-la has inspired a new found and well deserved respect for the Pan troglodytes (chimpanzees.) But speaking bluntly, most primates have a genetic make-up that is surprisingly similar to humans, yet they haven’t made it to the lime light and further more many of them are used as nothing more than door mats. The question is why?
What this article is actually hoping to resolve is, ‘Why is it that the top primate on the planet feels compelled to vex not only other primates but others found in the animal kingdom? Especially when they are all the same to the extent that if they are fed they will grow and if they are cut they will bleed.
This matter has become of interest to me as of late, when travelling with a group of mates to the island of Phu Quoc. Our first impressions of the island were that of having landed on a rural tropical paradise. Its beaches were made of the finest and highest quality white sand the world has to offer. The water was turquoise when viewed from a swinging hammock and transparent once you went in for a dip. Coconuts were seemly picked straight off the tree when one desired it and there was no shortage of mango shakes anywhere we went. It seemed like heaven truly existed and only ten kilometres off the Cambodian coast.
The group eventual grew a bit tired of meandering along the beach, so we did what most tourists would do when on holiday and bored of the beach. Shopping!
Travelling by taxi from our tiny and isolated beach side resort, we ventured to the one and only city to be found on the island, D¬ng §ong City. The general shopping experience was a bit of a disappointment, and in my eyes it tainted the whole paradise feeling. First off D¬ng §ong City doesn’t offer much of a shopping environment, and fair enough seeing that it’s really a large village that caters to local needs. Secondly, it was disheartening to find a shop selling stuffed turtles the size of my torso to tourists. I thought this was to be Vietnam’s leading ecological tourist site. I looked at the turtles frozen in time under a shiny polish; their sights forever fixed into space and imagined what it would have been like to have had the opportunity to go scuba diving with them. But still, I tried not to pass judgement so quickly or harshly.
Reasoning to myself, I deduced that many islanders would probably catch the turtles for their nutritious meat and then use the shell to make some extra cash in whatever way they could. I began feeling better about the situation, thinking that back home we use cows for their meat and hide, and chuckled as the words, “same-same, but different,” ran across my mind. Still, I decided not to purchase anything in there. We finished our shopping at the city’s market and caught another taxi back to the resort for a night of more beach frolicking and mayhem.
The following morning we spoke to the resort’s owner, who’s been living there for about five years (we’ll call him Mike) over a cup of coffee and a couple of mango shakes, to see if he could suggest something a little more invigorating for us to do. Instantly he suggested, “Motorbikes!” Our mouths salivated and our eyes widened as we all thought, “Motorbikes. Hoo-raw!” After all, renting out some motorbikes for the day was the other thing tourists do when they grow tired of being beach bums.
The following morning we spoke to the resort’s owner, who’s been living there for about five years (we’ll call him Mike) over a cup of coffee and a couple of mango shakes, to see if he could suggest something a little more invigorating for us to do. Instantly he suggested, “Motorbikes!” Our mouths salivated and our eyes widened as we all thought, “Motorbikes. Hoo-raw!” After all, renting out some motorbikes for the day was the other thing tourists do when they grow tired of being beach bums.
With Mike’s aid and a map of the island we begin to plan out our route, he quickly arranged to get us the bikes and helmets. It’s law on the island for all drivers to wear one, and I would recommend that everyone wear one after having seen the roads. We mapped out a route that would take us up a coastal road which we would follow all the way up to the island’s north-west tip. Along the way we plan some stops for food and drinks. Our route back takes us through the centre of the island, through thick forests and treacherous roads but Mike assures us that at a moderate rate it would only take us a couple of hours to get back to the city. We make our final preparations (sunglasses, caps or hats, and loads of sun-block) and we’re off.
Although we were only travelling at about forty kilometres an hour on a couple of Honda Waves, we felt that we were holding true to the wise words of Steppenwolf:
Get your motor runnin'Head out on the highwayLookin' for adventureAnd whatever comes our way.
That is until we stopped to water our parched throats and brush off some of red dust that had been bathing us. We checked out the premises, and at first glance all was well. The place was locally runned, the staff seemed friendly, and there was ample room with beach side views. One of my mates went to the loo to freshen up while the rest of us roamed over the grounds in search of the perfect view. We sat ourselves in a shady nook, ordered some refreshments when I turned my back to the beach to find several monkeys locked away in two cages.
My first response was that of shock. I alerted the crew of our new neighbours and as they turned to look three to four more cages were spotted off into the distance. We sat waiting for the forth member of the gang whilst murmuring about how horrible those monkeys looked. Essentially, we did nothing although all of us were appalled by the sight.
There were two monkeys in the closest cage. One of them was missing a tail and both paced back and forth, up and down in what little space they had. In the next closest cage sat three younger monkeys no room to swing or roam. One was tied by the neck to a tall stump perched in the mid-day sun with no shade nor water close by. Over yonder stood a small pen with several monkeys crowding about.
Our friend eventually came and saw. She too was appalled but reacted most differently. She cancelled her order and told the staff that it was wrong to cage the animals; she lectured them and as she did so her anger grew exponentially. At the time we saw the situation escalate to that of nothing short of a fist fight, so we followed suite, cancelled our drinks and left quickly. The rest of our journey went reasonably well but we all avoided the topic that was obviously on everyone’s mind until we reached the safety of our beloved beach resort.
In the end we discussed the whole ordeal with Mike and his wife, who told us that it was common to see caged animals on the island. The belief is that it will lour more tourists in, and that there are actually many tourists that enjoy teasing the animals. They continued on by saying that even most tourists that disagree with the matter usually say or do nothing. The answer that the top primate would torment an animal for an extra dollar in a country where the average annual income is less than US$500 came of no surprise. But I was still seriously bothered with myself for not having done anything. After some time spent thinking I came up with the conclusion that my two mates and I did nothing because we didn’t know what to do. We sat and complained while we were shrouded with a sense of helplessness. We tried to ignore what was facing us.
My fourth friend was angry with us, but more than angry she was disappointed that we didn’t support her in something we all believe in, which was why her anger grew so readily. I have since searched on the web, educating myself a bit more on how to handle such an occasion and this is how I encountered www.wildlifeatrisk.org. I found that the first thing I should do is not turn a blind eye, and that if I suspect any illegal misdealing with animals to contact the proper authorities, whose numbers are included below. As a general rule, should I stumble into a place where I feel they are may be hindering ecological tourism I would express my dislike to the staff or managers and explain that because of this dislike, I’ll make my purchases elsewhere, namely an environmentally and ecologically friendly shops and restaurants. The best advice I could give to someone who fears finding themselves in such a situation is to just do a little research because there is lots out there, it’s easy to come by, and most importantly it could truly help save some of the wildlife that surrounds us.
Forest Protection Department (FPD HCMC)
Forest Protection Department (FPD HCMC)
Tel: (84) (8) 8556274Fax: (84) (8) 8552501
Wildlife At Risk (WAR)
Tel: (84) (8) 9100328(answering machine available outside office hours)
Email: hotline@wildlifeatrisk.org
