At the advertised hour, a young man dressed in khaki shorts and shirt, holding a mic, strode into the open space in front of us. He treated us to a huge zoo-welcoming smile and shouted, “I’m Noah! I’m your host for today’s elephant talk!” And then he gave a slick word-perfect lecture that rolled smoothly off his tongue, telling us about the zoo’s commitment to conservation and its successful breeding operation.
Then the elephants lumbered into view, each led by a handler who put them through their paces. The elephants rolled logs, lifted their legs on command, pushed balls, and did all kinds of other things that weren’t tricks. They were replicating the behaviours of elephants that live where they’d come from, not performing. As Noah told us, the elephants were educating, not entertaining. They were teaching the people gathered along the fence.
After we’d seen the elephants, we continued strolling through the zoo. Eventually, we came to the old elephant house, a grand, highly-decorated building that was erected more than a hundred years ago. It was still in use when I was a child. These days, the elephants are living in less attention-grabbing quarters that resemble massive stables or barns.
The old elephant home has been turned into a zoo museum. We entered the building, and looked at the historic photographs attached to the walls, and we read about the life that the elephants used to live: how they gave rides to zoo visitors, and bathed in an enormous tub, out in the open, where everyone could see them. We saw pictures of elephants trunk-hosing delighted spectators with water.
On our way home from the zoo, everyone wanted to talk about the elephants.
”Do you think there’s any real difference between watching elephants roll logs and watching them enjoying a bath?”
”If I were an elephant I’d prefer to play in the water and drench people rather than push a ball across an enclosure.”
”Elephants might roll logs in their native country, but don’t they also give people rides?”
”Do you think the zoo would rather have an educational image than an entertainment one? Are they putting a particular spin on the elephants’ role in the zoo?”
”They’re concerned about conserving the elephants.”
”The breeding programs are their most important work.”
”But zoos have to sell tickets. People want to be entertained.”
”We can learn while we’re having fun. Why does everything have to look educational?”
“Do you think the elephants are happy? Do they prefer the newer enclosure?”
“Perhaps improving their enclosure isn’t enough. Should elephants be confined to zoos?“
”Were those bathing elephants grinning?”
We talked. We asked questions. We offered opinions. We listened to one another. We examined the zoological issues from all its different sides. And we came to some conclusions. But what those conclusions were doesn’t matter.
I can, however, reveal a unanimous opinion: we’d had a fabulously entertaining day out at the zoo.
And despite Noah’s earnest attempts to educate us, we’d learnt a lot.
Photos
A couple of photos taken on our big day out at the zoo. (I couldn’t find a good one of the elephants!)
This take on the zoo experience is thought-provoking, and I love the questions your family asked, especially the one about everything looking educational. How true! I had not thought about this before. Our kids tease me about how I say that “everything is school” but they know it is true, though some educating is done in a much more fun way! We should try to do more of that.
Staci,
Oh yes, everything is school! I agree! Conversations are wonderful, aren’t they? I love coming home from an outing and sharing thoughts and pondering ideas… The zoo must feel rather sad at the moment without any visitors. I hope it’s able to reopen soon. Restrictions are easing here. Life is looking a little more normal. I hope things are improving where you live too. Thank you for stopping by. It’s good to chat!