Chthonic Wildlife Ramblings

...and I'm sipping a glass of red wine []

China is always a bit alien compared to NZ (I like China, but there are damn few common points with NZ)- and despite visiting many parts of China I'm left with a nagging question. Do Chinese early-reading books have statements like the sky is blue? Because even in Yunnan the sky is mostly grey. Do Chinese children peer out of their windows, up at the gray and think, gosh, so that is what blue is like?.

Beijing is of course, gearing up for the Olympics. This should be a superbly organised and choreographed event. Nonetheless, it became apparent that it was not just the government planning for this event.

First night in Beijing, I've flown across the Pacific, changed airports in Shanghai (with argument with taxi driver over fare), got to Beijing, had a meeting and dinner. At this stage jet lag is screaming at me to go to sleep, and having 3 hours sleep in the last 18 makes it easy.

I crash but then the phone in my hotel goes (10.30pm). I answer in a very groggy and incoherent manner. A loud whisper follows- young lady, give you message.... I'm vaguely awake, as my minder for the trip is a young woman (nascent academic from the reputable NE Forestry Unniversity in Harbin). The caller responds to my incoherent mutter with "young lady, give you massage...". Hmm, up pops a red flag. I know the Chinese take hospitality very seriously but this doesn't seem right. Sensing my confusion the caller elaborates- "young lady, give you massage, make love to you, only 700 yuan". I decline the offer instantly.

This marks the first ocassion I've been solicited for night-time company ever, despite a lot of international travel. Which probably tells you that swamps and jungles aren't places you normally run into such problems. I should add that I got 3 new offers on the way back in Beijing, and possibly one more in Ming Qi in Yunnan. Alas the woman didn't speak English so I'm not sure. I did show her out of my hotel room when she tried to enter however.

Prostitution is officially illegal in China, but the whole affair suggests some co-ordination with the Hotel front desk. Somehow being targeted as a sad, old, lonely and dateless tourist isn't all the flattering [].

Travel tips from Chthoniid: when in a foreign country never (a) talk politics, (b) talk religion and (c) get stuck with a foreign native in your Hotel room when you are by yourself.

I have noticed that many of my more northern Opera friends have a greater affection for foxes than my Australian friends. This is somewhat understandable. Foxes are supposed to be up in Europe. In Australia they are very destructive of native wildlife. A colleague of mine- years ago- was reflecting on the irony of running a very successful platypus breeding programme (the secret is they prefer dirty water with muddy bottoms, to the clean water of most zoos). The Japanese had offered him $1m per platypus to display at one of their zoos. But Australian law and bureaucracy prevented the transfer. Instead the excess bred platypus, were venturing into wilderness areas out of the sanctuary. Where typically they'd be consumed by a fox. That would mean that at a value of $1m per platypus, he was breeding the most expensive fox food on the planet.

In NZ we also have a lack of affection- indeed a very strong antipathy- to the brush-tailed possum. This very destructive pest does a lot of damage to NZ forests, even eats eggs from bird-nests, and is a very unwelcome Australian guest. In short, we kill enormous numbers of possums on an annual basis. There are no other natural checks here to its breeding.

This can cause attitudes to become rather embedded. I recall on one trip to Tasmania going to a reserve. And while the Australians and foreigners were keen to look at the possums (where we should note, so many natural checks exist on its population it's struggling to survive in many locations and is a protected species), I had no interest at all. Cute and furry doesn't look so cute from this side of the Tasman.

My indifference however, was surpassed by a colleague of mine. Whom I will refer to as G. G was at a conference at a nice hotel in Australia. People had gathered to do a bit of drinking, and generally do what guys do when the family is 2000km away. That is drink too much, talk shit and wonder if the pretty graduate students would mind if you went out dancing with them.

The hotel was also home to a fairly tame population of possums. Who at night time were accustomed to crawling about and trying to cage food off the guests. Generally this was reciprocated- that was why the animals were tame.

One hopeful marsupial crawls up on to balcony and looks around. Begging mode is in full swing and the light of expectation fills its eyes. As people look at the animal, G does what every right-minded kiwi would. With a cry of bloody possum! he strides forward and aims a kick at the possum. Not exactly the scenario the possum had planned out. Instead of a snack, it's got a blow to the side of the head. Which lifts it off the balcony, where it summersaults several times and hits the ground...stone dead.

There is a very hushed silence.

Then several Australians take G aside, and explain very, very carefully that while possums in NZ are a noxious pest, in Australia they are a protected species. And what he'd just done was a little too much on the illegal side. And so long as he was planning on staying in Australia, would he mind very much, not killing any more possums.

The Sepik is a large river system up in northern Papua New Guinea. It is rarely visited by tourists, government officials or the like. It is inhabited by a lot of crocodiles (C. porosus) and a lot of villages.

The area is pretty rugged, so in order to collect the eggs from crocodile nests, you fly in (on helicopters). The rule is that each village gets cash for each fertile egg they collect. But they can't take more than half the eggs from every nest. Which are marked with white-tape and pinpointed with GPS. If any village breaks the rules, they get no money (cash in the hand, not 'cheques-in-the-mail). Having this spelled out by large and somewhat scarred crocodile experts seem to help.

Egg harvest is a pretty rough business. The problem is that the mother crocodile really doesn't want people taking her eggs. And at 3 metres long, she can do a lot of damage (5 metre crocodiles aren't uncommon, and porosus can grow up to 7 metres long) to people.

So you can imagine what the tool of choice is to deter the mother crocodile from turning a collector a scattering of partly digested body parts. This tool would be the good old common garden rake

Some mother crocodiles are still not easily deterred. To verify villages are collecting only half the eggs, an inspector is dropped on a nest (nests sit surrounded by swamp and water). Then the 'copter flies off, drops another inspector at another nest. Then flies back to pick up the first (and so on). So, everybody has an exciting moment of isolation when it's just you, a rake, and an angry salt-water crocodile.

The event that impressed us all was the mother crocodile that wouldn't give up. After a narrow escape back on the 'copter, we get lift off. Something isn't quite right...look down. The crocodile has lept out of the water and now has it's jaws attached to the landing-skid of the 'copter. Not sure why she finally decided to let go...

Living with wildlife can be a challenge. Especially when that wildlife damages crops, destroys property, and can maim or kill you. This however, is something we ask, or demand, that poor rural communities in some of the impoverished countries in the world do. They should make room for the wildlife, because we don't want to see it lost. It's not escaped the attention of a lot of people, that not a lot seems to go from the West to help these communities by way of compensation.

So, just suppose you are a Western tourist in Kenya. You have taken a stupid-pill. You go for a jog into bush, at a time when elephants are calving (smart move). One of them attacks you and you are badly injured. Do you
(a) Decide that it was probably something you could have avoided, plus hey, that's what travel insurance is for.
(b) Claim compensation from the Kenyan government, (who owns the wildlife). In which case you would be awarded perhaps 30,000 shillings. This being the rate Kenyans get paid by the government if someone is killed by wildlife.
(c) Sue the pants off the local community who runs the lodge, and claim Sh102 million in compensation.

News

That's right. The correct answer is (c).