Zoochology – by Kim Granli

The air was cold and the ground still covered in little dots of snow as I strolled through Frederiksberg Garden early in the morning. The birds were awake, busy flying above my head and doing whatever birds do at dawn.

 

I was walking along the outer edges of the city forest, daydreaming of sunny beaches far away, when a large figure moving in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Suddenly I found myself face to face with an elephant.

 

It was the perfect match for my daydream, really. Except he was not a dream, but a full grown giant of the savannah placed right here in Denmark, standing in front of me. He was drinking water from the pond that separated us, as I stopped and met his glance. His glassy eyes looked right at me, and I couldn’t help but think that it would be an easy task for him to step over this tiny moat and greet me with a big wet kiss if he wanted to. He didn’t seem too interested though. Just curious about who was disturbing his morning coffee, I guess.

 

I said my greetings without any reply, then walked on after a while, waving goodbye like a little kid. As I looked back from a distance I noticed how out of place he looked, here in this snowy environment. What a cultural shock for you, big guy.

 

My head kept turning over this peculiar little incident for the rest of the day, coming up with all sorts of questions. I realized it was time to visit the zoo for the first time in many, many years.

 

What is the zoo to us, in modern society?

How do people feel about the concept?

How does captivity transform an animal?

And how does our meeting with other species in this setting transform us?

 

After having my mug shot taken for the yearly access pass to the zoo, I was given a map of the premises. Looking at it, I realized it was huge, with animals from all corners of the world. Almost anything you could think of. Beginning my first tour of the area, in what would become a weekly activity, I tried to keep an open mind. This was a place for learning about the animals, wasn’t it? A place that gave us the possibility to teach love and protection for other species of this planet?

 

It sure was significant to me as a kid.

 

I remember feeling like an adventurer when investigating the animals up close. There were all the exotic creatures from my childhood books, suddenly coming to life right in front of me, expanding and nurturing my childish curiosity.

 

Then something happened.

 

 

 

 

We were visiting the zoo in Kristiansand, like we did every summer. I rushed over to the tiger enclosure right away, my mom close on my heels. It was a large area covered in vegetation and surrounded by tall fencing. Because of its size, I might not have been able to see them if they were hiding. Luckily they weren’t.

 

The king of the Asian wilderness walked towards me, with his head hung low and his eyes expressionless. The distinct reddish and white coat with dark stripes stood in extreme contrast with the green background. Slowly, he walked all the way up to the steel bars, making me more exhilarated with each step. I could smell his carnivorous breath as he turned around and walked back the same way, seemingly unaware of my presence. The big cat wandered back and forth in his footsteps repeatedly, which made me wonder if I was experiencing déjà vu. Nothing seemed to change. The same track, same steps, same stare, and same sound of his heavy breathing. After the tenth time, I knew it was not déjà vu. Something was off.

 

Why was he behaving this way? It seemed strange to me.

I shifted my focus towards the cheering crowd and tried to spot one of the zookeepers. Upon locating one, I pulled the leg of his khaki trousers and proceeded to make my inquiries about the tiger. The supervisor seemed taken by surprise by my questions. Then he directed his attention over to my mother for guidance, receiving only a friendly nod. He sat down and calmly explained that this type of behaviour was something that could happen to animals in captivity. ‘Compulsory behaviour,’ he called it. Noticing my perplexed expression, he continued, “The animals can get stressed from being held captive, and even become mentally unstable, just like people sometimes do. But we try to…”

 

I ran over to the cage and took a good look at the tiger. My heart sank to the bottom of my boots.

 

What was he saying? That the animals don’t like it here? They go mad?

 

That evening, we passed crowds of sugar-high kids with ice cream around their mouths on our way out of the big gates. All of them smiling and laughing while holding on to the new members of their stuffed-animal families with sticky fingers. I couldn’t smile. For the very first time in my life I felt anger and sadness after visiting the zoo. I knew right there and then that it would never feel the same again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

During the time of my project at the Copenhagen zoo, I met with a friend and explained this story from my childhood to her.

 

“It’s not so bad,” she told me. “They get food and can relax all they want. The animals are free of the struggle to survive and the fear of living in the wild. It’s like living in a hotel. They’re not even working!”

 

I thought to myself, “What makes you think they are afraid in the wild? Would you be less afraid in a cage?”

And then I replied, “If you where in a hotel, would you be unable to leave when you wanted to? Would you be taken away from your family and placed in a room with strangers, and expected to view them as your own family? Would the residents of the hotel have your room key and the opportunity to visit you any time they please? Doesn’t having a steady stream of onlookers staring, screaming, and shouting names during every meal sound like hard work?

 

It sounds more like a maximum security retirement-home if you ask me. And who wants to end up in one of those? Or maybe like a reality show? Which might appeal to many people. Except this season of Big Brother has no end date.”

 

Exhibits like this, made to satisfy the hungry public eye, are not a new invention after all. Travelling back in time only about a hundred years to 1910, we would witness human beings in cages at the Tivoli in Copenhagen, showcasing the savage aboriginals in their brute struggle against the West’s dominance and need for the creation of a hierarchy.

 

Yet today this would be obscene, and viewed as an enormous violation of human rights. As society evolves, so does the cultural perception of right and wrong. Maybe the belief of human superiority in the community of life will transform over time? That one day people will look back on the captivity of animals in the same way as they regard human captivity today?

 

 

Om projektet: 

Gennem de seneste par måneder har vores fotografer og tegnere vendt deres krøllede hjerner for at udarbejde hvert deres unikke soloprojekt til VINK, denne gang under fællestemaet ‘FORANDRING’.

Dette er én projektperle ud af fire, som vi publicerer over en måned. Vi håber, det vil røre noget i dig.

 

Holdet bag:

Tegner Jonas Milton, tegner Andreas Juul Blinkenberg i et samarbejde med skribent Mads Thunestvedt, fotograf Kim Granli og tegner Amalie Hjelm.