'Prisoners' of Bukittinggi zoo hoping for a pardon

'Prisoners' of Bukittinggi zoo hoping for a pardon

Tom Price, Contributor, Bukittinggi, West Sumatra

The prisoners sit huddled on the floor of their cell while
soft rain drips from the bars. Days old food lies molding in the
corners on the concrete, smeared with the body waste that has
nowhere else to go. With no tap or even bucket to hold water
throughout the steamy afternoons, the prisoners press their lips
to the floor to slurp up the rainwater as it flows between their
feet. Today is like yesterday, and the day before, and their eyes
bear the dull blank stare of those who can't contemplate any hope
for change.

This is not a prison, but a zoo, and the "prisoners" are
primates, elephants, crocodiles and many other would-be star
attractions of this faded Dutch era complex in Bukittingi, a city
two hours drive from West Sumatra's capital Padang. Built in the
1930's as an extension to Fort De Kock via a footbridge over the
main road in town and essentially unchanged since, its crumbling
facilities have languished in front of dwindling crowds.

It is a grim place, a shocking surprise for the thousands of
foreign tourists who use Bukittingi as a stepping stone for the
eco-tourism wonders of Sumatra.

"We had no idea when we toured the fort that we would end up
here. I am disgusted that my money goes to support such a place,"
said Alexi Alexander of Calgary, Canada after her July visit.

She's not alone in her views. None of the dozens of
restaurants and guesthouses in the area mention the zoo as an
attraction worth visiting, and proprietors, when asked, joke
about what a mess it is.

"What's the difference between a prison and our zoo?" asks a
local guide. "Prisons hold people."

Perhaps because they seem most human, it is the condition of
the primates that is most depressing, especially that of the
orangutans who elsewhere in Sumatra draw crowds of eco-tourists
each year.

Ucok is one example. A massive adult male orangutan, with
rope-like matted hair, Ucok has been in this same bare enclosure
for 24 of his 25 years. There are no toys to play with or trees
to swing on, just a stale tank of water, and of course the bars.

Nearby, an infant female named Mary huddles in an empty
concrete water tank staring at the sky, careful to avoid the
prying claws of the Malaysian Sun bear next door, who spends most
of his time trying to find a way into her cage. Mary is eight
months old, and will likely spend the rest of her life here.

For the animals, food is their major diversion.

Ucok gets about seven kilos of food a day, which he
supplements by begging for peanuts, chips and whatever else
visitors throw in his cage. Although it's not part of his diet
and is not allowed, he's fed anyway.

"We want the understanding of people not to feed the animals,
but it is very difficult to forbid them to feed the animals,"
explains Mohammad Idris, the new zoo director who has been in
this position only four months.

A look around clarifies the difficulty he faces: the signs
explaining where the animals are from and that they should not be
fed anything besides their appropriate meals are like everything
else here -- faded or broken, clearly years old.

Mohammad admits he faces a daunting challenge. "It is a poor
environment for visitors and animals," he says.

With 90 percent of the zoo's current budget coming from the
sale of 800,000 tickets per year, with the adult price being only
Rp 1,600, there's little money left to make repairs or
improvements.

However, hope for change to make this zoo a tourist draw for
Bukittinggi's crowds of visitors is on the horizon. According to
Mohammad, the local government is poised to make the investment
to bring this zoo into shape.

He said that previously, the local government placed
importance on sectors like education and farming, and didn't pay
any attention to the zoo. But now they're looking at the zoo and
have made money available for improvements. The renovations are
expected to cost Rp 100,000,000.

"We are the only zoo in West Sumatra and could become a major
tourist attraction again," Mohammad said.

On a walk through the zoo, he outlines his plans to reverse
the zoo's slide into the current poor facilities, which are aimed
more at the visitors' needs than the inhabitants'.

"We would like to fix up the cages, give them new paint,
arrange a better area for the vendors. Most importantly, we want
to create an area of free entertainment and recreation areas for
children."

Currently, the rides are fee-based, which limits the number of
families who can afford a day at the zoo.

"The money exists, and now we are searching for the best
vendors." He hopes to have all the improvements completed in five
months, an ambitious schedule.

While Mohammad is responsible for administering the zoo, care
for the animals falls to Dr. Effi Silfia, a graduate of the Bogor
Agriculture Institute (IPB)'s School of Veterinary. Followed
around the next morning as she toured from enclosure to enclosure
with a packet of medicines in her hand, she pointed out where she
hoped to improve the lives of the animals.

"We want to move animals from their small enclosures to larger
ones, breaking down walls to make bigger cages, while working to
improve access to basic things like water."

Mary will soon have a larger enclosure, with more light and a
better view of her surroundings. And what about Ucok? "He's too
big and dangerous to move, and anyway we don't have any
(transfer) cage large enough to put him in."

The unspoken message is clear: Ucok will only leave this cage
when he dies.

She explained the empty water bowls by saying that the town's
water often does not come on until late in the morning and that
perhaps she would get bowls for the animals to tide them over.

All around us, dozens of staff, the most seen at once in five
days of visits, hurried around cleaning up garbage and trimming
long ignored plants.

Back at the orangutan's cages, Mary had found some loose
piping and was hanging from the top of her enclosure using it to
pry away bits of concrete, which fell to the empty floor below
her.

Meanwhile, sometime early that morning another person had
slipped Ucok a meter-long length of steel rod, which he had used
to pound a hole through the tile floor of his enclosure some six
inches wide and two feet deep. He dropped the rod to rush the
bars and growl at the keeper who came to sweep away the peanut
fragments from the previous day. The keeper took a carefully
timed swat at the massive primates shoulder with his broom handle
and moved on. Change may be coming to the Bukittingi zoo, but at
least some of the animals aren't waiting.