Volunteering at the Zoo

In October of 2010 I’ll have been volunteering at my local zoo for a year. What an experience! It began as an “oh shit” moment, but quickly, almost instantly, evolved into a life altering adventure and exploration. Through facebook statuses, twitter, pictures, and conversations I have kept people updated in my life at the zoo, but I decided to put it all into one place and try to recall all the details and experiences I’ve had.

CSU Fresno’s budget issues and frustrating bureaucratic decisions led to the Primate Behavior class being canceled. As a anthropology major with an emphasis in biological anthro, I needed this class for a few reasons: educationally I needed to learn the material, but  in a broader way, I needed to know what I would be doing after graduation which was, at the time, right around the corner.

I had wanted to—and still want to—partake in a primate field school, but cost was/is an issue. So, I asked around to get opinions. I needed to know if, once I got my BA and was looking for grad schools, skeletons would trump primates, or vice versa. One of my professors, Lisa Anderson, was very helpful in figuring out possibilities to “replace” the class I couldn’t take. One of her suggestions was to contact the zoo and see if I could work with them and focus on primates there. I had not thought that as an option because I didn’t like the zoo. For her class back in 2007 I went there for an observation assignment and, prior to going, I was excited, but once there I did not like what I saw. That was a very emotional day. I was definitely reluctant to go there for learning purposes, but I got started with the volunteer application and called regularly for updates as to the orientation and start date.

Prior to my zoo days, my favorite extant primates were lemurs (specifically the aye-aye and the sifac), douc monkeys (they are beautiful), Japanese macaques (they make snow balls!), gorillas, and orangutans–though I am quite taken by all of the non-human primates. Of my favorites, the zoo has two lemur species (red-ruffed and ringtail) and orangutans. When I got news that I would be volunteering in the section with the two ape species and other mammals I was inexplicably excited. I didn’t really know what my duties would be, but I knew I’d be closer to them than the public.

I started out working mornings and leaving at noon. This meant I cleaned holdings for two tigers, a leopard, a bear, three siamangs, and four orangutans. That was it. One Saturday, after I had been there a few weeks, I stayed all day and, once the cleaning was done, I was able to do the fun stuff–enrichment for the apes. I instantly changed my schedule to work afternoon to closing. I quickly loved the new schedule because in the afternoon I am able to help the orangutans and siamangs more, watch them, and get to know them–and they can get to know me.

I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, though. Let me be kind and rewind.

Lyn, the senior mammal keeper, knew why I was there. When I spoke to her on the phone prior to the orientation, she informed me I’d be working in the mammal section and not “float” like the typical volunteers who spend a couple months in one department and then move to another. I asked if I would need to dye my pink hair to a “natural” color and she informed me no, “the apes will love it!” I saw this as a good sign, that at least Lyn didn’t care and was just looking forward to the help.

As a volunteer there are things I’m not allowed to do and things I’m not allowed to talk to the public about. I’m not allowed to touch any of the animals, or get close enough to the fencing for there to be any contact. I completely respect the imaginary boundaries and don’t move, often forcing the zoo keepers to swerve around me. They can get close, and, since this is the case, I am not jeopardizing my safety or the trust I’ve built up with the keepers by being polite and getting out of the way. I can’t ask the apes for, or directly give them, anything. I’m not trained for direct interaction and there are protocols and methods. The zookeepers are trained and work up to the positions they are in. I could get hurt very easily by the orangutans, even though they can only get their fingers through the fencing (on exhibit they can get their arms out, so it’s more dangerous.) The same is true for the lesser apes, the siamang gibbons. Even when I am not near the holding rooms and am standing in the hallway, I have to be hyper aware of what the orangutans are doing. I have seen them stick bamboo and other sorts of sticks through, I do not want to be on the business end of that stick if there is full orangutan force behind it, even if it is all in fun and they just want to play. I quite like not being injured.

The mundane parts of the day, boring and mindless, are equally important as the fun parts of my day, so I do them. As mentioned, cleaning holdings daily is necessary. When I go in, if holdings need to be done, I start with them. Siamang and tiger are the holdings I usually do. Sometimes I clean colobus (which is in the other mammal section) and help with orangutan holdings, but not often. I also clean the overhead “tunnel” area that connects siamang and orangutan holdings to the exhibit.

Oh tiger, lovely and scary tiger. They are gorgeous and powerful. There is fencing which separates them from people, but it’s not solid. The image of their massive paw clawing at the fence and lacerating any one close has played out in my head a number of times. When I walk by them, my flight response is on 100%. I can’t seem get comfortable around them, and I see this as a good thing; it’s how it should be. I am the prey and I know my place. They silently demand respect and reverence, I gladly give it. When seeing them on exhibit, it’s hard to really conceptualize just how large they are–especially if they are lounging in the shade near the back of the exhibit, which seems to be what they do when I happen to see them. Behind the scenes, walking in sync with one of them, or whilst they lay in the shade in holding, it still amazes me just how big they are. They are the smaller of the three species of tigers. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to stand 5 feet away from the largest one.

Dried blood sometimes graces the floors in their holdings. There may be a special surprise of uneaten meat with eggs from the many flies if it’s hot out. Yum. I have the pleasure of getting that out. Luckily I don’t have a weak stomach and I’m not grossed out easily. The smell, oh it is such a lovely and distinctive smell (/sarcasm). If I am ever in the jungle, I think I’ll be able to sniff a tiger out in no time.  Despite sweat running into my eyes, accidently spraying myself with the hose (usually in the face), soaked pant legs and feet, the assault my olfactory gland takes, and the length of time it takes I know it’s important and I’m more than happy to help the zookeepers and tigers out.

Siamang and colobus are easy to clean, and they don’t smell, so it’s an in and out process. When I help with orang holdings it’s not too bad either. As an aside, since I already discussed poop, orangutan feces smells like horse feces. This is strange to me because the diet isn’t the same. The first time I noticed, it threw me.

The other boring job is washing dishes. I hate dishes in general, so it’s not my favorite task at the zoo. In fact, I’d rather clean tiger holdings multiple times versus doing a sink full of dishes. This is especially so if there is dry meat, fatty film, and blood involved. It’s mostly containers that held fruit and veggies, so it’s not awful. I just don’t like doing them. Another task is diets. Which is simple. I cut up and/or weigh the appropriate amount of food for the apes. It takes a while because each ape is done separately. On days that I have to do diets, holdings, dishes, and enrichment, all in four or five hours, I feel very rushed and stressed.

Now, on with the fun stuff! Atop of the other tasks I have, I also have the privilege of enriching the orangutans holdings—I may refer to them as rooms, too. Enrichment comes in many forms and serves a crucial purpose.

In the wild, all species of all intelligence levels and cognitive abilities encounter a cacophony of smells, variety of sights, other animals, and any number of varying experiences. Animals not in their native/natural habitat, like those in zoos, are limited to the space and objects provided. They require stimulation, and without it psychological problems will likely occur. Consider yourself, if you’re bored, what do you do? How do you solve the dilemma? Perhaps you engage in some social activity with friends, read, watch televisions, listen to music, spend time on facebook, or some other activity that uses your brain and takes some focus. Animals in captivity don’t have the option of leaving and trekking through the jungle a few miles, or brachiating through the canopy, or taking a swim across a river while catching salmon. While enrichment is very important for all animals, its necessity and the sort needed increases as the animal’s intelligence level increases. For primates, specifically apes, an enriched environment is dire for the animal’s health and well being.

Enrichment takes many forms. The exhibits themselves, filled with foliage, grass, rocks, branches, ponds/pools, the size in height and perimeter, fire hoses for brachiating, and any other object is enrichment. Olfactory enrichment stimulates the sense of smell and can be anything from perfumes and/or body sprays, herbs (dry or fresh), and even prey/predator scents. Sounds are enriching because, as is the case with all enrichment, it’s something different that they don’t get everyday. It can consist of nature noises, like the sound of a trickling brook, or jungle animals. (I don’t play CDs for them, but I have my own version of sound enrichment that I’ll get to later.) Visual enrichment is just as it sounds. Anything that makes the room different than the it usually looks, so it could be simply hanging a poster of a cat from a calendar. Drawing on the floors with chalk is also an option. As simple as it sounds, it changes their environment. Since primates rely on their vision heavily, it makes for a scenery change.

Foods are also used for enrichment. The type of food—If it’s something they don’t get often—as well as the manner they are given the food are the basic methods of providing enrichment. It’s important to note here that, since the animals in captivity are provided their diets, they are not spending any time searching for food as they would in the wild. Because of this, it is important to ‘hide’ the food in order to get them to forage in some manner. It gives them something to do, and that’s the nuts and bolts of enrichment. Other things that enrich their environment (specifically the apes I work with) includes clothing, sheets, boxes, plastic containers, barrels, buckets, tubes, and puzzle feeders. The puzzle feeders resemble large spools and have holes in them; hay and shredded paper is stuffed into them along with their dinners. The orangutans must pull the hay out to get the food out. It’s not challenging and they know what to do when they have them, but it takes time and engages them in an activity.

Interaction is that last thing I’ll address here. I believe this is a form of enrichment too. This can include interaction with another orangutan, the siamangs (who share the exhibit with the orangutans), the random squirrel of lizard that gets into the exhibit, or humans–obviously a new human, one they haven’t met is more enriching than one they see everyday, but in both cases they are experiencing something and not just sitting there not stimulated. Sometimes the enrichment overlaps. In cases when a zookeeper and I draw with them, we are creating visual enrichment and also interacting with them. Food may be hidden or smeared on magazine pages. Sheets used for bedding is sprayed with perfume.

Now that the general stuff is out of the way, maybe next time I’ll introduce my lovely red-headed cousins.

~ by ashleebones on September 7, 2010.