Last weekend I went to the Qinhuangdao Wildlife Park with a former student and his father. Essentially a zoo boasting a pseudo-safari element as the main attraction, it was everything you would expect from the zoo of a mid-sized city in a developing country. It was a place I had never intended to go, both out of a desire to avoid the inevitable depression that comes with seeing majestic animals in not-so-majestic living conditions, and because I simply knew the place would leave me with much to desire. I don’t mean to be snooty, it’s just that I’ve had the great fortune to experience many privileged things that obliterate a trip to the zoo in any country, including an actual two-and-a-half day safari at Maasai Mara National Reserve in Kenya. Even watching Planet Earth tops 80% of the zoos I’ve seen. But this former student was excited about taking me to the zoo, and his father had some guanxi with a few employees there, so we were sure to get some perks.
So we went.
There’s a lot I could say, but won't--you already know what this zoo was probably like. For clarity’s sake, I will point out that even the U.S. has some pretty suspect zoos and circuses, lest you feel compelled to conclude that this zoo is a microcosm of China’s current level of development, or much worse, an appropriate metric by which to declare China “inferior” to the U.S.
False.
You cannot compare these two incredibly different countries so easily. Not that I’m condoning, in any way, some of the egregious issues I’ve discovered during my time here, and not that I'm forgetting some of the most pressing issues that desperately need to be addressed successfully, but I would be remiss if I let you think “sizing up” China is that simple. And let us not forget: for a country that is among the most developed in the world, the U.S. has plenty of shameful problems of its own (not that I did as much as I should have to be a part of the solution though...).
The truth is, China is a country that has undergone development at a pace that defies convention, for better or for worse, and while the country has certainly come a long way in some areas, it should be no surprise that there are still many significant hurdles to clear. However disheartening, ensuring appropriate and humane conditions in the zoo of a third-tier city is just not high on the list at this point.
So just enjoy the post for what is it: another story that helps highlight my experience living here in China, which is the point of this blog anyway. Enjoy:
The monkey house: viewing windows for the cages were located on the right side. My Chinese friend/former student made a few comments to me regarding the conditions of the cages--the lackluster facilities were just as apparent and discouraging to him.
The red panda was undeniably endearing and cuddly-looking. I honestly wondered why you don't see more plush red pandas adorning the beds of little children around the world.
Of course there was a sign like this.
One of the lions seen on the "safari," which was little more than a large enclosed area with some lions where you could drive your car (yes, drive your own car) to catch a closer glimpse.
In the next safari enclosure, about eight tigers held residence. They were notably more active than their sedentary African neighbors.
If patrons wish, they can purchase a chicken or a goat to feed to the tigers. Just out of frame is (what I assumed to be) the zookeeper's truck where the chicken, seen here in the tiger's jaws, was released out the window seconds before. The live chicken lasted literally three or four seconds before the tiger caught up to it.
A dispute between these two tigers erupted as a result of the aforementioned chicken and one tiger's reluctance to share. Hearing the growl of two full-grown tigers as they fight 50 feet from your car is humbling. Even more humbling is the idea that you're just sitting there in your private car, in this tiger enclosure, with no significant safety or security (that I saw) other than your own vehicle. If I wanted to get out of the car and pet the tiger, no one was going to stop me.
The next enclosure contained these gentle (i.e., domesticated)-looking bears. While I certainly could be wrong, these particular bears looked about as harmless as a sack of potatoes, but that gave them an endearing quality. I wanted to make friends with them.
I doubt this trusting passivity would exist so prevalently in the wild--the bears would likely be too timid or shy to venture this close to humans (unprovoked, of course). The gentle confidence with which they immediately approached our car (located about five feet from the fence you see) strongly suggested their habituation to humans.
Clearly, the zoo had few qualms about large, wild animals and their common propensity for aggression--the wires you see there are the only thing that remains between you and the bears. While these bears appeared fairly benign (and I'm sure there were), I can't say that the lions or tigers would be. Interestingly, this fence in the bear enclosure is much more than what the lion and tiger enclosures boasted. My guess is that these friendly guys would wander right up to your car to get food if they could, and maybe that wouldn't be entirely desirable since they are, after all, large bears.
They were quite adept at catching food the members of our party tossed their way, and it's no surprise why: it appears that many parties that pass through the zoo come prepared with food of many sorts to give to any of the animals. The zoo as a whole boasted little in the way of professional zookeepers or attendants. Left almost entirely unsupervised, many people probably did what they felt like doing, which in this case was giving these bears bits of apple.
Whether this species of bear behaves this way in the wild, or this particular group of bears has learned that this behavior is advantageous when encountering humans with food, these gentle creatures showed a habit of standing on their hind-legs and sticking out their arms as if to say, "Hit me with that apple--I'm open." While I enjoyed the close encounter, I was a little depressed at the thought of these giant creatures relegated to a life of begging food from zoo patrons.
The trip was as I expected, and I did enjoy seeing tigers and bears at such close range, albeit under some unnatural contexts. To be honest though, I didn't want to give this zoo my business. Then I realized that I actually hadn't: my friend's father used his guanxi to get us in for free. But then the more startling realization hit: maybe the zoo is in this state in the first place because it's very possible that many people don't pay to get in. Then again, it's also very possible that the zoo would remain in its present state regardless.
I suppose there are tougher questions that flow out of this: does my lack of patronage to businesses in China such as this zoo actually do anything to discourage/disallow poor business (i.e., moral and ethical) practices? Or does it simply mean that the business will just have to cut that many more corners to make profit? And would increased business and patronage really turn the company into a better, higher-quality one, or will it just put even more money in the owners' pockets without necessitating change within the business?
Consumer awareness is a whole different game in China, and I am beginning to wonder whether a consumer in this country really does have the power to "vote with his or her money"--but that's a game many have never heard of, even in the U.S. Perhaps I am naive to hope that someday a Chinese business that operates maliciously, or at the least dishonestly, will cease to exist. I suppose I can only wait to see. In this rapidly changing country, nothing seems unimaginable.
