Zoo Tycoon in Real Life

As I mentioned in my last post, the bulk of our time in Malaysia was spent “voluntouring” at an orangutan rehabilitation facility called Matang Wildlife Center. The location contributed immeasurably to our biodiversity class, which turned out to be one of the most unconventional and valuable educational experiences I’ve ever had. Traditional class sessions were held in an auditorium on the center’s property, where we heard lectures from the manager, Leo Biddle. Everything he said was fascinating, maybe partly because I am an Environmental Policy and Decision Making minor at school. But most of it had to do with Leo. He is an amazingly hardworking, committed, resilient and good-natured guy, and the improvements he as made at Matang and for Malaysian orang conservation are impressive. Unfortunately, I predict that they are likely to go unnoticed. I have a bit of an intellectual crush on him, if you can’t tell.

He is about 6’3’’, and he always strides around in these dark wife beaters with cargo pants tucked into his work boots. He is from the UK, and his accent totally added to the mystique. I would say 95% of the work he does is above and beyond is job description. I quickly learned that Leo regularly adopts the role of nurse, accountant, animal handler, lecturer, tour guide, indigenous advocate, architect and construction worker, business manager, rehabilitator, diplomat, and rogue wildlife conservationist. There is little this man doesn’t do. And I was struck by how empathetic and levelheaded he was. I would assume that someone with enough courage and passion to work in such a high-stress field would have a few screws loose. But he was the coolest and I could have listened to him speak all day.

It was the relationships we made with Leo and the other staff members at the center that defined the month for me. I physically achieved so much more than I thought I would be able to, and I know it was because of the supportiveness and commitment of the group. Life was uncomfortable for a while, and the work was no joke. But the tough circumstances brought us closer. There was so much happiness and esteem between us all. It strikes me that perhaps it is the close relationships and sense of community that this harsh environment cultivates that compels people like Leo and Tasha (Matang's project manager) to keep going despite the immense difficulty. It was a lot like summer camp actually...or what I imagine summer camp to be like. 

In the middle is Tasha, project manager for
Matang and, as we later learned, Leo's love interest.

A career as an orangutan rehabilitator and conservation advocate in Malaysia today is almost comically difficult. The climate alone would be enough to send most people packing. There are very few recreational comforts here. Not only is it incredibly physically demanding, but the situation for orangutans is so dire and moving in such a negative direction that it seems like a miracle that anyone would voluntarily enter the fight for the species. Government corruption, lack of public support and constant criticism would make the job unbearable for me. Seeing the way these barriers played out in the field was incredibly eye opening. I respect and admire the Matang staff immensely.

Learning about conservation and environmental policy at school brought me to conclusions far different from those that developed after my work in the field. Before we made it to Malaysia, I assumed that rehab and rainforest protection were just as much a priority for Malaysians as they are for westerners. This is far from the case. I assumed knowledge about conservation and biodiversity would be inherent here, and I didn’t expect there to be such a high degree of international influence propelling conservation efforts. I found there to be a surprising lack of understanding about the importance and uniqueness of tropical rainforests amongst the Malaysian people. There is an unfortunate lack of initiative as well. This creates an interesting dynamic between the locals and the environmental activists from the west. Scientists and academics from our part of the world are the ones with the knowledge about Borneo and the strong environmental values. But even though the forests are alarmingly unhealthy and rapidly deteriorating, what right do westerners have to influence the way Malaysians treat their natural resources? After all, we have done a fine job of exploiting our own forests for the sake of economic development. Who are we to advise anyone else? Sorry if this is getting too academic. I just finished writing a paper on this stuff so it’s fresh in my mind.

I wasn’t expecting to adopt so much sympathy for the Malaysian government, but through our experiences at the center, I began to understand the difficulty of being in charge of a region that is so contested and valuable internationally. Yes, the Malaysian government is corrupt and hypocritical in many ways, but they must balance pressure from countless powerful stakeholders, all while keeping the economic interests of their people at the forefront. It is no wonder bribery and lack of enforcement is so rampant. On the ground, people like Leo and Tasha are like rogue superheroes, doing what they believe is right often in unorthodox and unattractive ways, all the while evading prosecution from the unsupportive government. Relationships and loyalty are crucial to their success as well.

The actual volunteer work was possibly the hardest part of the trip so far, but also (and perhaps as a result) the most rewarding and fun. I wish I had time to go into more detail about everything I did and saw, but unfortunately I just don’t have time to write it all. Instead, I’ve made a list of some of the coolest things I did at work:

• Climbed the tallest orangutan play structure in the world to hide food for the adult females.
• Scrubbed down 12+ indoor orang cages.
• Stared into the eyes of a 80 kilo., fully grown male orangutan. These things are terrifying. And the horror stories we heard were intense.
• Stained and prepared dozens of 2x4in. wooden planks for a ranger station being built deep in the forest.
• Carried these 2x4s through the forest, on my back, over a freshly machete-ed path. Yep.
• Later in the week, carried 4x4s across an even more difficult trail.
• Shoveled 25lb. of gravel into burlap sacks and carried these sacks up rickety, wet wooden steps into the forest to lay gravel around an orangutan feeding platform.
• Dug trenches and mixed/laid concrete tunnels for an outdoor porcupine enclosure.
• Climbed trees and hid sunflower seeds as an “enrichment activity” for sun bears in their outdoor enclosure.

There was no instruction manual for these things, and the ability to improvise and roll with the punches was crucial. Our projects seemed crude, but were nonetheless critical to the center. I learned to value a good attitude and a strong work ethic in my peers; even the hardest days were enjoyable when I had a fun, committed group.

In case you were wondering, we were made aware of the risk of injury and death involved in everything we did, and we were required to sign plenty of liability forms. Unfortunately, a lot of us did get hurt at some point. Take a look:

I wish I could say I got these battling an adult orang or carrying lumber through the jungle, but I cant. To be honest, I tripped walking down a wooden walkway outside our longhouse. Embarrassing. But I will have an impressive scar.

It has been a rough month on my skin too. I have been known to have mysterious allergic reactions even in normal living conditions. 80+ degree weather and constant humidity didn’t do me much good. I have become accustomed to some new smells too; sweat mixed with mildew. My standards of clean laundry have gone WAY down. We had no laundry facilities, so it was hand washing all the way. It’s pretty relaxing actually. But when it rains nearly every day and the air is constantly thick with moisture, nothing ever dries. So even when your clothes are theoretically “clean” they still smell like mildew. Absence of B.O. has come to be the one and only definition of clean.

Only after we left the center did I learn that we were the largest volunteer group Matang had ever had. They admitted that they were a bit apprehensive about inviting us, but more than a few tears were shed as our bus drove away L.

Anna :) Probably my favorite picture of the trip.

From Desert to Dipterocarp

As I’m sure you can imagine, the transition from harsh, desolate Mongolia to lush, vibrant Malaysia was a 180-degree about-face. Not only was the climate change a shock to the system, but the social culture was as well.

We arrived in Malaysia on September 26^th after the whirlwind tour of China, and after what I thought would be the roughest travel day of the year. Little did I know, the flight from Malaysia to Vietnam would entail a full 48 hours without sleep, but more on that in a few weeks. We had to take three flights (Shanghai > Hong Kong, Hong Kong > Kota Kinabalu and Kota Kinabalu > Kuching), which messed with my internal clock a bit. But we made it, exhausted and a little cranky. Our first Malaysian destination, Kuching, is the capital of Sarawak, one of the three states that make up the country. Here is a map in case you are unfamiliar, which I was until about day three of my visit.

I enjoyed Kuching immensely. It was a much-needed break from the sensory overload that was China. The city is clean and vibrant, the buildings a rainbow of cheerful pastels. Here are a few pictures:

We were lucky to stay at a wonderful hostel called Singhasana Lodge, which had a quaint rooftop bar and lounge area where we met for our first days of class. I felt like I could finally stop and take a breath in Kuching; the people were friendly and warm, no one tried to rip me off, and the my spirits were lifted by the amazing natural environment.

But the relaxation was short lived. Just moments after we arrived at the lodge after our hellish day of travel, our professor for our class in Malaysia (who flew in from Tacoma to teach us for a month) greeted us with an invitation to a 6:30am nature walk the next morning. We were unenthusiastic to say the least. Luckily he made it optional, so most of us opted out. But that’s just how it goes on Pacrim. You gotta roll with the punches, which I’m sure will become second nature for me before too long.

With the new setting came a new class, this time on the amazing biodiversity of the island of Borneo, and Sarawak itself. It was a science-ish course, but a huge portion of it was focused on conservation and wildlife rehabilitation. For those who are unfamiliar with Borneo, I will fill you in:

• Borneo is the name of an island, not a country.
• It is made up of three countries: part of Malaysia, part of Indonesia and Brunei.
• One third of Malaysia is known as peninsular Malaysia and is located next to Thailand.
• Borneo is the third largest island in the world.
• The island is a ‘hotspot’ of biodiversity (and yes, ‘hotspot’ is a scientific term), meaning it has the highest number of total species of any other continent on earth, as well as the highest number of endemic species.
• How cool is it that I got to go there?!?
• Of the 200+ mammal species on Borneo, 44 are endemic, meaning they appear nowhere else on earth.
• The forests of Borneo are in major crisis mode; over half have been lost to logging and/or oil palm plantations (palm oil is the new cooking oil of choice around the world – check your packages). Obviously, deforestation has major environmental consequences, which I won’t go into now.
• Dipterocarp is one of the five forest types found on Borneo, and the most ecologically diverse. Most of our time hiking and trekking was spent in dipterocarp forest.
• With deforestation comes species loss, which is happening at an alarmingly depressing rate.
• Some of the iconic endemic species in Borneo are orangutans, gibbons, clouded leopards, hornbills and binturong (or bearcats), all of which are   either endangered or on their way.
• Many indigenous people of Malaysia actively maintain a tribal lifestyle on their ancestral forestlands to this day, which creates major conflicts with the conservationists and government organizations that are also interested in the land they inhabit.

While conservation of these rapidly deteriorating forests may be a priority for scientists and academics in the west, Malaysians and Indonesians have yet to adopt the same sense of urgency. The forest and its resources are obviously economically lucrative, creating an incentive that would be difficult to resist from any socio-economic perspective. Consequently, a huge ethical controversy ensues, involving indigenous rights, the economic well-being of the country’s citizens, animal rights and more.

Amazingly, I was able to get up close and personal with a lot of these endangered animals at our second stop of the visit, Matang Wildlife Center, where we worked as volunteers. This is where the bulk of our class was taught, and where many of us were pushed to the edge, mentally and physically. Don’t get me wrong, our time at Matang was one of the best experiences of my life, but it was tough. For one thing, it’s located in a protected national park in the middle of the rainforest, which meant zero opportunity to connect with anyone outside our group. No Internet access either.

This was the first time I had truly been disconnected, but it was surprisingly easy to deal with. My peers and I are all in this weird Pacrim bubble, which became even more insular in the isolated environment. Crazy things start to seem normal when you only have 24 other people to compare your experience with. We share a lot with each other, verbally and materially. I really enjoyed getting to know my professors (both of whom joined us in our volunteer work) on a much more personal level, and I noticed my friendships becoming much stronger, even those I had before the trip began. All we really had was each other for two weeks. And you learn a lot about a person after doing physical labor with them for four hours every day. But more on that later.

Life was simple. Three meals per day were cooked for us by a group of totally delightful local women, each married to one of the rehab center staff members. We were housed in a longhouse-style dorm building, four students to a room, each with its own bathroom. Longhouses are the traditional indigenous style of housing in Malaysia. Each room had one fan, but no air conditioning…and it got real hot in there. And damp. The humidity was pretty relentless and overwhelming. I thought the Minnesota summer would have prepared me at least a little bit, but it did not. I learned that if you resign yourself to the fact that you will be wet and smelly all day, it becomes more bearable. By the end it was routine.

Another issue we had to face was the pervasive stench of mildew mixed with wet, semi-clean clothes. We did our own laundry at this place, and our limited wardrobe coupled with daily (smelly) volunteer work created a relentless laundry routine. A new scent my nasal inventory during those two weeks: old, salty sweat + mildew. It’s worse than B.O., I’m telling you. But it was unavoidable sometimes; no matter how often you did laundry, it was up to Mother Nature as to whether or not it would ever get dry. Even if you were able to wash out all the sweat, which I often wasn’t, the clothes would still end up sitting around wet for days at a time, sucking up the pervasive mildew musk all the while. So our definition of ‘clean clothes’ became a bit less rigid.

As we were in the tropical rainforest, there were a myriad of critters with which we were forced to share our living space, number one being mosquitoes. They were different from those in the states, or in the Midwest at least. They were slower moving and their bites didn’t last quite as long. But they itched a lot more. Even with my DEET repellent my legs got pretty devoured. We became friends with the leeches too. Well, some of us did.

On our first day hike into the forest, we were all pretty freaked out about them. Leeches are very common on Borneo, and they grow to four or five times their original size after filling themselves with your blood. Initially, they stick onto your skin with their tail and swing their little bodies around to find a place to latch their mouth. Sometimes it feels like a pinprick when they start sucking, but sometimes you don’t feel it at all. I was pretty lucky on the leech front; the worst one I had was hiding underneath the collar of my sock for only a few minutes, but it had gotten pretty fat. Anna had to scrape it off of me with a stick L. Usually they are pretty easy to spot though. And they aren’t dangerous. They carry no diseases, but the prospect of their tiny razor-like teeth and their anti-coagulant venom is pretty unnerving.

In my opinion though, the worst pest we had to deal with was the ant. Small, unassuming and seemingly harmless, right? Now I know better. On one of the first nights at the longhouse, I woke up to find my backpack swarming with them, sniffing on a piece of Mongolian candy I had been saving for my family (sorry guys…). I carried the bag outside to brush them off, only to discover that they were biters! A few minutes later, while I was outside cleaning up, my roommate was undressing and getting ready to take a shower when she wrapped herself in her towel that had been hanging on the wall above my backpack. She failed to notice the dozens of ants that had crawled up from the floor, and got bitten up pretty badly all over her body L. It was quite a fiasco. And it happened at least three or four more times. I swear, they will go crazy over the tiniest crumb.

But that’s enough complaining! The good far outweighed the bad in Malaysia, I promise. Stay tuned.

China, Quick and Dirty

Here is a post that I wrote during our China tour about 6 weeks ago, before we moved on to Malaysia. Sorry about the delay.

Even though we left Mongolia less than a week ago, it feels like its been months. We embarked on our lightening fast tour of China on Tuesday, September 20^th and moved around nonstop for literally the entire week. A different bed every night. We left the the Mongolian guesthouse (to the delight of our hosts) at 8:00am and arrived at the airport, which wasn’t even open when we arrived! Yes, that’s right, the Ulaanbaatar airport isn’t open 24 hours a day. We had to wait for an hour and a half until the international departure section opened up.

It was a short, painless flight to Beijing, which was an intense awakening compared to our low-key Mongolian experience. The airport is GIGANTIC. Everything in China is just so big. We were herded through customs and baggage claim, where we met our first tour guide, Julia. And so began our cattle-like tour through China. From the moment we stepped on the tour bus, I felt like a mindless puppet, moving my head left and right to see the sights out the bus window, hearing our upbeat guide spew facts and figures about China’s recent economic boom and Olympic success. It was an official government tour, which might explain the patriotic enthusiasm. It was a little eerie to be honest.

On the bright side, it was a welcome relief to finally see green grass and trees after a month in a leaf-less city. The orderliness of Chinese culture was also immediately apparent, especially in the incredibly well behaved highway drivers. Everyone was driving at a reasonable speed! And waiting their turn to merge! It was delightful not to feel like we were about to get sideswiped every time we changed lanes. On the flip side though, Beijing struck me as having creepy, mechanized feel to it. It was like everyone was a peg in a really, really big machine. Everything seemed regulated, which it probably is to some degree. At least a lot more than Mongolia.

We got to the hotel about an hour later, and our next order of business was to find food. We visited a really cool, but not very authentic, street food block called the night market.

Lots of skewers of unique proteins, noodle dishes, fruit, dumplings and soup. But as you can see, this too was pretty touristy. Everyone wore matching hats and aprons, and each stall was decorated with the same red lamps. The tourists were just audience members watching a show. But the food was pretty good nonetheless. The best part of the night was walking a few blocks to Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City for a quick look at everything lit up at night. They were beautiful, and also WAY bigger than I expected.

The next day was crazy: the Ming dynasty tombs, a jade factory, and the Great Wall. The Great Wall was indisputably the highlight. It was absolutely magnificent. I feel so lucky to have been able to see it in once in my life.

All the sights in China were interesting but to be honest, they often didn’t make an impact on me because they were so overcrowded with tour groups. I felt like one of a billion others to have been in these places, and I was often not even motivated to take photos. It was comical; every spot we went to was filled with dozens, even hundreds of other groups like ours, their guides holding up bright colored flags above the crowd to keep everyone together. Thank god we didn’t have to wear matching hats or outfits like many others.

The next day was just as jam-packed as the one before. We were up early to pack for our overnight train to Xian that evening. And it was back in the big bus for an official tour of Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. Again, the size was overwhelming. There were large government buildings scattered throughout, one of which was Mao’s mausoleum. We learned that the mausoleum is open to the public for only 3 hours every morning, so naturally it attracts a large crowd. There were hundreds and hundreds of people standing in a line that snaked around the entire building, waiting to catch a glimpse of his mummified remains. Again, kind of eerie. The vast majority of these visitors were domestic. Also eerie: the hundreds of cameras positioned on the light posts sprinkled throughout the square. I was warned against photographing them by a friend after this picture was taken. Oops.

Across a 6-lane highway was the Forbidden City, which greets its guests with a gigantic portrait of Mao smack-dab in the center of the red south entrance wall. 

The Forbidden City was immense. Tremendous, ornate wall after tremendous, ornate wall. It seemed never-ending. It was really interesting to be able to look into some of the buildings and see the historically preserved sleeping quarters of the former emperors and their concubines. Towards the north side, we walked through a beautiful, serene rock garden. It was a LONG tour, and eventually it became hard to appreciate the beauty of the place while being squeezed and pushed by the thousands of other visitors.

Next stop was the Silk Market, a 6-story department store filled with rows and rows of vendors selling knockoff designer everything. Shoes, clothes, sunglasses, jewelry, makeup, purses, movies, watches, etc., all up for bargaining. Sounds like my bag, right? Wrong. I hated just about every minute of it. I started by joining my friend Veronica, who is an excellent haggler and had been to the market before, at a denim stall. By the time I got there, she had a silly rapport going with the vendor, and had picked a pair of knockoff designer jeans to buy for 200 Yuan, or about $30. I quickly got talked into trying on a pair myself, and before I knew it, Veronica had moved on and this smooth-talking vendor was showing me on her calculator how much money I was saving on these pants. But there was no way I was going to buy a pair of pants that I didn’t really want from the first stall I walked by. I’m too much of a shopper to give in that easily. There was no way I could ever hope to fit them into my backpack anyway. I attempted to politely decline and promised to come back later after I had looked around, which I quickly learned was a mistake. Show no weakness or uncertainty at the Silk Market! Our conversation went as follows:

Vendor: What? Why would you do that to me? I though we were friends? I went and got these pants from the back room for you. They fit you, right?

Me: Yes.

You like them, right?

Yes.

Well then I don’t understand. Why would you do that to me? I got these all the way from the back room for you. I’m giving you a deal. I just don’t understand.

Those of you who know me well know that I am a huge bargain shopper. I don’t buy the first thing I see, ever. I always shop around, talk myself into things and out of things, buy stuff and return it a few days later. I wasn’t in the right mindset for this place at all.

Vendor: Why would you do that to me? My boss will be angry. I could lose my job. You like them, right? So then why do you want to look around? I give you a good price. You tried them on and you like them. I don’t understand. I already put the pants in a bag, and we agreed on a price. Its bad luck to take these out of the storeroom and not sell them. I’m going to get in trouble with my boss now. I might be fired because of you. Why would you do that?

This went on for what felt like 3 or 4 minutes. Somehow, she convinced me that I was the one who owed her an apology. How twisted is that? And the worst part is that I apologized…and I felt bad! She actually made me feel guilty. But I didn’t give up!  As I started walking away from the stall, she grabbed my arm and shouted at me to come back. She quickly lowered the price by 50 Yuan. She shouted “Hey lady! Come back lady!” until I was out of earshot. It was actually kind of traumatic. Little did I know, this was just the beginning.

The same thing happened at a shoe stall. I tried a few pairs on, which seemed harmless. Trying on a pair of shoes shouldn’t rope me into anything, I thought. But a similar shouting match ensued as soon as I tried to walk away without buying. It was exhausting, and kind of embarrassing. I did eventually end up buying some, and I probably paid too much. No matter what, I would have walked out of there feeling bad about something, either paying more than I should have, or feeling guilty that I had put some vendor’s job in jeopardy.

Luckily we had a traditional Peking duck dinner to look forward to after the shopping disaster. But that ended up being pretty disappointing too. Maybe I was just in a carry-over bad mood from the market. Or maybe I was being a food snob. I don’t know.

We were told we were being taken to an authentic Chinese restaurant, known for its Peking duck. Unfortunately, it was nothing but another multi-floor, banquet hall style tourist restaurant, much like the ones we had been carted around to the previous days. A stereotypical chef in a French chef’s hat wheeled into our private dining room with a tiny, pre-cooked duck (not nearly big enough to feed our whole group) to carve tableside. It all tasted very cafeteria-like to me. But I’m also a pretty big snob when it comes to restaurant food. My countless hours spent watching the Travel Channel and Food Network have gone to my head. But the food in China was MUCH better off the beaten bath, so I feel justified.

My happiest memories from all of China were from our free day in Shanghai, which was our third and final stop of the tour. Between Beijing and Shanghai came Xian for one night, which is honestly a haze of sleep deprivation mixed with visions of terracotta warriors in my brain. Not noteworthy. But Shanghai was much more enjoyable. No more tour guides or cafeteria food!

I set out in the afternoon with Connie, Greg and Monica for a day of exploration in the largest contiguous city in the world! My only requirements: a good, authentic Chinese meal, and a cheap haircut. We found a cute little “one woman show” restaurant for lunch, but were out of our league a little bit when it came to ordering. Thankfully, Monica had taken two semesters of Chinese back on campus, so she could help us out a little bit. But this was the first time I literally had to order from someone who was completely unfamiliar with English. Somehow it worked out and we got a picture with the chef/owner (haha).

After lunch we walked through an extremely cool antique market with tons of communist era memorabilia, antique jewelry and trinkets. It was a blast to look through, and I regret not buy anything L. 

But my spirits were lifted after my awesome haircut! My friends were nice enough to stroll into a little salon on a street corner with me, and help me choose a style from one of their magazines. No verbal communication necessary! I was pretty nervous, I’ll admit. That was the most I’ve sweated during a haircut. But it turned out GREAT! I honestly think it’s one of the best hairstyles I’ve ever had. And it doesn’t even look like the picture I pointed to, as far as I can remember. That stylist just knew what I needed.

To top if off, later that night I had the best meal in all of China, and possibly the best meal of the trip so far. My friends decided to sit down at a run-of-the-mill fast food shop near our hotel, but I was feeling curious so Audrey and I ventured on to find something more interesting. We came across some food carts that had set up shop literally in the middle of an intersection, and were cooking up wok-fried noodles and grilled meats and veggies. I created my own noodle stir-fry with rice noodles, egg, bean sprouts, chilies and greens, and it was AMAZING. Spicy and fresh, but not too greasy or heavy. I also had a grilled corn on the cob, covered in what tasted like Indian spices. It was unreal. And way cheaper than anything else we could have found. We sat on some 12 inch plastic stools at a plastic kiddie table and ate our noodles out of plastic bags. I ate it up. The whole thing. It was a wonderful, unforgettable day, and a great way to end the week.

From my experience on this tour, I think the best word to describe China would be overwhelming. Even Shanghai, which was a blast, was immense and unfathomably crowded. I am glad I got the chance to see the sights and get a taste of the differences in culture from region to region, but the pace turned everything into a sensory overload. We will be back in China in November for our Chinese philosophy course, stationed in Fuzhou, which will give me a chance to make a more fair assessment. And I will keep an open mind.