Animal house

Last week, after I talked about some goofy animal antic for the 5,802,934th time, Stephen suggested that we go to the zoo at Entebbe. I almost told him I didn't want to -- I mean, the whole novelty of being here is that I've never seen these animals integrated with the public before. That's what makes them special, even if they are just domesticated cattle. But Stephen is such a wonderful person, I didn't want to say "no." Besides, Entebbe is breezy and green; Lake Victoria is right there, and hanging out with Stephen any time is fun. So what the heck. We went.

I am so glad Stephen suggested it! The zoo at Entebbe is nothing at all like the Philly zoo. For one thing, the keepers aren't quite so concerned about keeping animals in their habitats. There were caged birds that looked like large bald eagles but sounded like sea gulls -- apparently they fish the waters of Lake Victoria. An hour or so after I saw the animals in their enclosure, I looked up and saw one flying overhead. And halfway through the afternoon a bunch of monkeys jumped the fence of their enclosure and started romping on the playground. Crested cranes would glide within five feet of the visitors, clearly feeling like they had more right to the sidewalk than park visitors. (I can see why Uganda chose the bird for its flag. They are graceful as they are beautiful.) But we got our biggest surprise first thing in the afternoon, while Stephen and I were trying to teach an enclosure of African Grey Parrots to say our names. All of a sudden we heard a cough directly behind us.

"Do you think we are safe?" Stephen asked uncertainly.

"I don't know," I answerwed, still laughing at the birds behind the wire. The cough came again, loud and deep. "What is that, anyway?"

We turned around. No more than ten feet away from us, behind a flimsy wire fence, a lion stood in full glory clearing its throat. "Bloch! Bloch!" it belched, turning its head in our direction. My eyes slid to the side -- I didn't want to make direct eye contact with the cat, just in case. My gaze rested on a sign.

"Caution. This animal is DANGEROUS."

"Um, Stephen?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's go ..."

It didn't take much urging. Stephen took off down the path, me not far behind. The lion kept on chuffing, like it was about to hack up a mean hairball. Frankly, I didn't want to know. Hairball, cough, love song, warning -- I just wanted more than a thin fence between me and the king of the jungle. Mulago hospital might not be equipped to deal with lion maulings and all that.

"Are you scared?" Stephen asked, laughing.

"Yes!" I said, skipping quickly ahead of him.

The animals at Entebbe Zoo are much more active than our captives in the U.S. This probably has a lot to do with the fact that Entebbe only keeps native species in spacious surroundings, and mixes them with other animals from their natural environment. You could tell most of the beasts are happy. The antelopes weren't jumpy, the parrots were curious, the otters were mating, the warthog had recently given birth, and the chimpanzees literally danced for snacks. It was kind of neat, watching an alpha male stand up and clap his hands, or the little female sulk in a corner, hugging her toes. They just looked comfortable being themselves.

What bothered me, though, was the zoo-goers. People just didn't seem to understand the sign "don't feed the animals." One woman, amused by the proximity of a monkey, tried to see if it would play with her cell phone. Now, I have a beagle. I KNOW how dumb captive animals can be about small, destructible objects. Apparently this woman does not have a beagle, however, because she teased that monkey with her cell phone until he took it from her.
And ate it.

"Ah!" She shouted. "It took my phone!" (My reaction: No, really?) People rushed over and watched as the monkey peeled the battery cover off the back and started to gobble down. All I could think, horrified, was that a monkey that small would probably have trouble passing plastic. I hope the little guy makes it. Anyway, he ate a big chunk of plastic, then dropped the phone in disgust.

"Do you think I could get it back?" the girl asked.

"Oh sure," her friend said. "There are plenty of zookeepers; they will get the phone." And then he proceeded to hand HIS phone to the monkey, as we all hauled him backward. The little monkey looked peeved that he didn't get to sample phone #2.

Can a monkey get free night and weekend minutes? Because apparently dumber primates can ...

Anyway, it was an amazing day, from the swarms of dragonflies, to the kissing sitatunga, to teaching the ape statue to read the newspaper. (Stephen has a delightfully twisted sense of humor.) This was really the first time I went anywhere purely for fun. It was great seeing the lake and walking with the crested cranes. I only have two more real vacation days here; I hope they're as wonderful.