The zoo is a small part of a larger park. So when I got to the zoo with 30 minutes left before it opened, there was plenty to take in. Like most ‘developing world’[1] countries, garbage removal is not a high priority or a strong cultural value.[2] I remember when I was in Nepal, we took the children from the orphanage I was at to the park for Easter. The ‘park’ may not have had houses or open sewers, but it was overrun with trash. Not this park. This park was huge, beautiful and clean. It was also almost empty. My favorite part was this bridge which almost seems like a mean prank for drunk people[3]:
But it did provide a good vantage point for the trees which were teeming with local birds.
I made my way to a very nice bridge, island, moat system surrounding the zoo but as I crossed the final, precarious seeming bridge, something enormous, slippery and grey thing surfaced right next to me. I never saw a face or flipper, but it surfaced right next to me several times. I later learned that this is where they kept the manitees and that was the last I would see of it.
So, I love zoos. When I get to travel to a new city I will try to do the following things (in the stated order):
1. Climb a nearby mountain
2. Go to a baseball game
3. Go to the Natural History Museum
4. See something the city is famous for
5. Go to the Zoo
Madison, WI had a free zoo. My first semester there I was single[4] and working really hard. I started a Masters program in Engineering without an engineering degree and, as with almost
every stage of my education, I felt like I was just treading water until I was exposed as a fraud and unceremoniously kicked out. I was taking the Engineering pre-recs (for which I didn’t have pre-recs[5], so I was actually had to learn twice as much material as the coursework). Anyway, all of this is to say, I used to go to the zoo to study. I mostly liked being around families having fun but taking study breaks to watch the lemurs is remarkably rejuvenating. I understand the ethical objection to zoos, and I think care should be taken to build them well, but I like them.
So Georgetown’s zoo was modest, but it was the best possible kind. When it comes to both Natural History Museums and zoos, local is better than spectacular. One of my favorite natural history museums of all time is actually Cleveland’s. In addition to an exhibit that featured a song devoted to each geologic strata[6] Cleveland had a smallish fossil collection (which is why I go to Natural History Museums). But instead of collecting as many dinosaurs as possible from Wyoming, the Gobi and Secatachawan[7], all of their fossils were from Ohio. Much of my mental map of the Devonian comes from that exhibit.
Anyway, all that is to say, though modest, the Georgetown zoo was very good. It was composed entirely of animals that lived in Guyana.[8] I grew up obsessed with animals.[9] It is actually a little surprising that it has taken me this long to consider a biology degree.[10] But it seems that the non-North-American animals were blurred in a haze of exoticness. I remember being shocked to learn, at a relatively advanced age, that there were no tigers in Africa. So to experience animals in conjunction with their general local (if not their actual habitat) really accentuates the experience pedagogically and recreationally. The jungles of Africa and South America actually have really fascinating similarities and differences.
So, the zoo started with birds and lots of them. Colorful parrots, oddly proportioned toucans, ominous vultures and austere eagles.
Then came the smaller mammals. I really liked this guy…The Mustelidae
Then, finally, the main event. The big mammals:
I have always liked tapirs (here they call them cows, even thought domestic cows have their run of the streets). But whenever I think of them I think of a hilarious moment in Gibson family oral history[11]. We were visiting Washigton DC (or maybe it was Toronto) and were at the end of a very fun day at the zoo. But I had never seen a Tapir and we had missed it, so we backtracked and found an enclosure that the Tapir shared with a Rhino. I was entranced with the Tapir, but Nic pointed at the Rhino and asked, loudly, ‘what is that big thing hanging from the Rhino?’[12]
I usually really like monkeys, but these monkeys actually creaped me out.
The most famous Gyanese mammal is the ‘giant otter’ which is about half the size of a Sea Otter but was still playful and extremely fun.
Finally, after the otter were the jaguars (one of eight different kind of cats they had labled – of which I only saw 4). They are impressive, but the best moment is the interest they seemed to take in their neighbor the otter.
_____________________________
[1] In undergrad I tried to do an unofficial minor in the ‘developing world.’ I took Third World Sociology, Geography of the Developing World, Music of the World’s People and History of the Non-Western World. The latter made me self conscious of all the possible ways to refer to the 2/3rds of the world that do not have the material prosperity of US/Canada/Europe/East and North Asia. (Note, I find this so difficult, that that previous sentence of this footnote took me 5 minutes to write – and I still don’t like it.) He went through all of the ways and found them each ethnocentric and imperialistic, deciding non-western was the least offensive, and, therefore, adopting it for his class. This knowledge has left me linguistically paralyzed and requires a paragraph apology for the use of ‘developing.’
[2] This is actually a huge problem in flooding because the floodwater isn’t just physically dangerous, but becomes chemically and biologically dangerous as well.
[3] Alaska politics also comes to mind.
[4] Amanda was student teaching in Texas, we got married the following December and moved back together.
[5] I have always believed that pre-recs are overrated. For being so academically insecure, I sure was cocky.
[6] Each strata actually got its own genre too, so the Silurian was hip hop, the Devonian was country and another was Opera. I remember fantastic pieces like “I’ve been wishin, that I was fishin, in an Ordovician sea.” And the Operatic “O, Trilobite.”
[7] There is a temptation to simply collect the most dramatic specimines regardless of origin in each museum. This ends up with all fossil collections looking more or less the same, however, like a sprawling tract of suburban chains that is indistinguishable in Virginia, Nebraska or California. There is no sense of place or pride of specificity.
[8] There was one pen labeled ‘African Lion’ but it was empty.
[9] When we had friends over and we would go through the strange socialization experiment of reaching a consensus of sixth graders regarding their next activity…my suggestion was usually, I kid you not, write animal reports (which I regularly did for fun and was never selected by a jury of my peers).
[10] I will be applying to UCD’s Masters Program in Restoration Ecology for 2011.
[11] I call it an oral history because, before Dad died, this story got told often. Well the oral history is now text, and I assure you, higher criticism is unnecessary. This story gets the 'highly probable' ink.
[12] In his defense, I remember thinking that the Rhino’s ‘package’ was unnecessarily enormous to the point of impracticality. But I’m sure the Rhymenoseris would disagree.
But it did provide a good vantage point for the trees which were teeming with local birds.
I made my way to a very nice bridge, island, moat system surrounding the zoo but as I crossed the final, precarious seeming bridge, something enormous, slippery and grey thing surfaced right next to me. I never saw a face or flipper, but it surfaced right next to me several times. I later learned that this is where they kept the manitees and that was the last I would see of it.
So, I love zoos. When I get to travel to a new city I will try to do the following things (in the stated order):1. Climb a nearby mountain
2. Go to a baseball game
3. Go to the Natural History Museum
4. See something the city is famous for
5. Go to the Zoo
Madison, WI had a free zoo. My first semester there I was single[4] and working really hard. I started a Masters program in Engineering without an engineering degree and, as with almost
every stage of my education, I felt like I was just treading water until I was exposed as a fraud and unceremoniously kicked out. I was taking the Engineering pre-recs (for which I didn’t have pre-recs[5], so I was actually had to learn twice as much material as the coursework). Anyway, all of this is to say, I used to go to the zoo to study. I mostly liked being around families having fun but taking study breaks to watch the lemurs is remarkably rejuvenating. I understand the ethical objection to zoos, and I think care should be taken to build them well, but I like them.So Georgetown’s zoo was modest, but it was the best possible kind. When it comes to both Natural History Museums and zoos, local is better than spectacular. One of my favorite natural history museums of all time is actually Cleveland’s. In addition to an exhibit that featured a song devoted to each geologic strata[6] Cleveland had a smallish fossil collection (which is why I go to Natural History Museums). But instead of collecting as many dinosaurs as possible from Wyoming, the Gobi and Secatachawan[7], all of their fossils were from Ohio. Much of my mental map of the Devonian comes from that exhibit.
Anyway, all that is to say, though modest, the Georgetown zoo was very good. It was composed entirely of animals that lived in Guyana.[8] I grew up obsessed with animals.[9] It is actually a little surprising that it has taken me this long to consider a biology degree.[10] But it seems that the non-North-American animals were blurred in a haze of exoticness. I remember being shocked to learn, at a relatively advanced age, that there were no tigers in Africa. So to experience animals in conjunction with their general local (if not their actual habitat) really accentuates the experience pedagogically and recreationally. The jungles of Africa and South America actually have really fascinating similarities and differences.
So, the zoo started with birds and lots of them. Colorful parrots, oddly proportioned toucans, ominous vultures and austere eagles.
Then came the smaller mammals. I really liked this guy…The Mustelidae
Then, finally, the main event. The big mammals:
I have always liked tapirs (here they call them cows, even thought domestic cows have their run of the streets). But whenever I think of them I think of a hilarious moment in Gibson family oral history[11]. We were visiting Washigton DC (or maybe it was Toronto) and were at the end of a very fun day at the zoo. But I had never seen a Tapir and we had missed it, so we backtracked and found an enclosure that the Tapir shared with a Rhino. I was entranced with the Tapir, but Nic pointed at the Rhino and asked, loudly, ‘what is that big thing hanging from the Rhino?’[12]I usually really like monkeys, but these monkeys actually creaped me out.
The most famous Gyanese mammal is the ‘giant otter’ which is about half the size of a Sea Otter but was still playful and extremely fun.
Finally, after the otter were the jaguars (one of eight different kind of cats they had labled – of which I only saw 4). They are impressive, but the best moment is the interest they seemed to take in their neighbor the otter.
_____________________________[1] In undergrad I tried to do an unofficial minor in the ‘developing world.’ I took Third World Sociology, Geography of the Developing World, Music of the World’s People and History of the Non-Western World. The latter made me self conscious of all the possible ways to refer to the 2/3rds of the world that do not have the material prosperity of US/Canada/Europe/East and North Asia. (Note, I find this so difficult, that that previous sentence of this footnote took me 5 minutes to write – and I still don’t like it.) He went through all of the ways and found them each ethnocentric and imperialistic, deciding non-western was the least offensive, and, therefore, adopting it for his class. This knowledge has left me linguistically paralyzed and requires a paragraph apology for the use of ‘developing.’
[2] This is actually a huge problem in flooding because the floodwater isn’t just physically dangerous, but becomes chemically and biologically dangerous as well.
[3] Alaska politics also comes to mind.
[4] Amanda was student teaching in Texas, we got married the following December and moved back together.
[5] I have always believed that pre-recs are overrated. For being so academically insecure, I sure was cocky.
[6] Each strata actually got its own genre too, so the Silurian was hip hop, the Devonian was country and another was Opera. I remember fantastic pieces like “I’ve been wishin, that I was fishin, in an Ordovician sea.” And the Operatic “O, Trilobite.”
[7] There is a temptation to simply collect the most dramatic specimines regardless of origin in each museum. This ends up with all fossil collections looking more or less the same, however, like a sprawling tract of suburban chains that is indistinguishable in Virginia, Nebraska or California. There is no sense of place or pride of specificity.
[8] There was one pen labeled ‘African Lion’ but it was empty.
[9] When we had friends over and we would go through the strange socialization experiment of reaching a consensus of sixth graders regarding their next activity…my suggestion was usually, I kid you not, write animal reports (which I regularly did for fun and was never selected by a jury of my peers).
[10] I will be applying to UCD’s Masters Program in Restoration Ecology for 2011.
[11] I call it an oral history because, before Dad died, this story got told often. Well the oral history is now text, and I assure you, higher criticism is unnecessary. This story gets the 'highly probable' ink.
[12] In his defense, I remember thinking that the Rhino’s ‘package’ was unnecessarily enormous to the point of impracticality. But I’m sure the Rhymenoseris would disagree.
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