Pigs Are People, Too

Okay, that's not even remotely true. Pigs are pigs, and people are people, and this blog isn't even about pigs, it's about guinea pigs. Yes, guinea pigs: America's favorite pet rodent and Peru's favorite main course (actually, judging by their size I would probably only consider them to be appetizers). Guinea pigs have taken up a surprisingly large role in my summer this year, and I wanted to bestow upon all of my readers the privilege of hearing ALL about it. Can't wait? That's what I thought.

So, flashback to the beginning of the summer. I am three months younger, and about to launch into a summer-long house sitting gig. The family that lives here is spending the summer in a home on the East Coast.

When first offered the gig, I hesitated as they have two rather high-maintenance dogs (one elderly and medicated, partially blind and deaf, and hardly mobile and the other a young, spritely and large dog not yet aware of his own strength). However, they informed me that the dogs would be venturing east with them, causing me to do a little jig of victory internally.

Then I remembered... the dogs weren't their only pets. Cookie the Guinea Pig also lived in the house I would be watching. I anxiously asked if Cookie would be going with them, too- I had no desire whatsoever to take care of any creature beneath that roof besides myself. My heart sunk a bit when I found out that Cookie would be my responsibility, too. I fully anticipated a very half-ass effort on my part just to keep the thing alive, but quickly I realized my affinity toward the creature.

Cookie has a personality just as well defined as any other living being I have come across. He is laid-back, cares about eating way more than he should (often to the point of prioritizing it above his own safety), is relatively quiet but still makes those charming little squeaks from time to time, and will happily sit on my lap while watching TV and just relish in being stroked. Cookie and I became fast friends, and so attached that I began to worry about our eventual and inevitable separation. Actually, anyone who knows me was worried about it too- I was attached like a conjoined twin to this furry little critter.

I began to wonder if all guinea pigs are this rad as pets. One weekend, the neighbors asked me to watch their guinea pig, who shall not be named (we will call him Bob just to make this easier to understand. He doesn't deserve more than a generic name like that [no offense to my readers named Bob. It's a pretty good name for a person]) while they went out of town. I agreed. Bob came over and quickly demonstrated that no, not all guinea pigs are rad as pets. Some are just horrible.

First of all, he was a jerk to Cookie and that is just not cool. No one messes with my baby! Yikes, can you imagine what I would be like as a mother? I put them next to each other for a quick photo op and Bob quickly attacked. Screw you Bob. That instantly put him on my most-hated list. That's not a list that anyone wants to be on.

Also, he squeaks to this volume that seems absolutely unbelievable coming from his tiny body. In no way are these cute, quiet squeaks like Cookie's- no, these are more like blood-curdling shrieks. I also decided that Bob was trying to sabotage me. As I recorded a guitar song and was finally happy with my take, he squealed in the last five second and ruined it, as if he were just waiting for the end to do so. Whatever, I posted it anyway so joke is on him. Or maybe he won that round, whatever. Click here for the song, and wait for the squeak at the end.

Okay, I just realized how ridiculously long this post would be if I made it just one, so I'm going to split this bad boy and make it a two-parter.

An Elephant-Sized Adventure

Prior to last week, my elephant-riding experience was limited to sitting atop a pachyderm at the renaissance fair in Colorado while someone led it around in a couple of circles. Thanks to a visit to the Baanchang Elephant Park in Chiang Mai, Thailand, I can now say that I have ridden multiple elephants as well as bathed them and fed them. Yes, I have had a close encounter of the Dumbo kind.

Visitors to Thailand often have reservations about going to elephant parks due to inhumane treatment of the gentle giants. For example, some feel hesitant about riding them at all and some don't like the fact that parks often use chains on the elephants' feet. I admit I found it a bit jarring that the elephants were chained up despite reassurances that they got plenty of exercise multiple times a day and were all rescued from prior lives of logging and other poor treatment.

The park had over 45 elephants which we were able to feed mass amounts of banana and sugarcane. The hunger of the giant beasts never seemed satiated, their greedy trunks constantly reaching out to us as if magnetized, asking for more goodies. Their power as they ate became quickly apparent- their teeth crunched a bunch of bananas like it were a tiny marshmallow, swallowing it in one gulp. After feeding them, we learned how to ride them and each had a go taking them around a couple of trees with their trainers, called mahouts, nearby. I was grateful for the presence of the mahout especially when I forgot the commands for "go," "stop," "turn," and "lie down." I was surprised at the similarities of riding a horse and an elephant.

One massive difference, of course, was the size. The moment I mounted the elephant and sat in the area just behind its ears, I realized the ease with which it could buck me off if irritated, making it clear that I was at its mercy entirely. This made me a bit nervous as we didn't need to sign any sort of waiver.

After riding around on the elephants for about an hour, we dismounted with nice and sore legs and gave the pachyderms a bit of a wash. I was a bit skeptical about getting into a cold pond filled with elephant dung, but decided it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. At the end of the day, we ate some pad thai, said goodbye to our new friends and parted ways.

Otters, Pandas and Bears, Oh My!

If Dorothy had decided to venture to the Ueno Zoo instead of Oz, she would have encountered very different creatures. I'm not sure what it is about zoos in other countries, but so far my experience has shown that animals abroad are much livelier. Yesterday, the inhabitants of Tokyo's famous zoo were as active as those in captivity can get given their space constraints. The most exciting thing was the activity of the animals that zoo-goers pay to see like tigers, polar bears, gorillas and pandas. I have been to the San Diego zoo more times than I can count and have never seen a giant panda as close up as I did in Ueno.

I think I'm invading this panda's personal bubble

Not only were the gorillas monkeying around (there's a little primate humor for you), but they had an adorable little whippersnapper of a baby with them. The otters, which often sleep in American zoos or hide better than Waldo, snaked around playfully like furry little eels through the water. I have seen polar bears all over the world, in places like San Diego, Colorado and Madrid. Yet, I have never seen one bounding back and forth, jumping, and diving as I did in Tokyo. All of the beautiful creatures were truly a sight to behold, and made me realize with how many beings we share this Earth. Sorry, I hope you all had your Lactase ready, that got a bit cheesy without warning. My favorite was the snowy owl. It pivoted its head sharply a few times a minute and once stared directly at me with a piercing gaze through yellow eyes. I felt like it was looking right into my soul. Maybe it was Hedwig and had magical powers and actually did stare into my soul.

One of my favorite exhibits was the one featuring Japanese birds. One of the reasons I liked it was its complete emptiness of the building. I suppose most of the visitors figure they have seen enough Japanese birds just by living in Japan. Yet it was so peaceful watching the graceful beings amid no sounds save the echo of my footsteps. If I were a zoo animal, I would definitely be a Japanese bird because I wouldn't have to deal with annoying people glaring at me and being loud at all hours.

I think that visitors who don't speak Japanese should get a discount at the Ueno Zoo, since almost all of the signs are in Japanese only, thus meaning they miss out on the information about the animals. Okay, okay, I concede it is only $5 to get in which is really nothing, especially in comparison to other zoos. At least the names of the animals were translated, some rather comically. One was called a “Dhole,” and I could just read it as a D-Hole, which just sounds wrong. It looked like a kind of fox. I guess maybe foxes can be D-Holes.

The only downside, as is often a downside in theme parks, zoos, and other attractions, was the mass amount of people. This particular outing redefined what it meant for a place to be crowded. I eventually lost count of how many times someone ran into me with her stroller, or a child stepped on my feet. Not a single person said “excuse me” or “I’m sorry.”

However, for every inconsiderate person on this Earth there exists at least one considerate one. The language barrier in Japan has discouraged me to the point where I rarely ask for help or for directions anymore. Even when I ask a question in Japanese, I can’t understand the answer, so the point of asking is moot. Upon arrival in Ueno, however, the zoo had already been open for hours and I didn’t want to waste time wandering around lost beyond reason. So, after realizing the map was of little assistance, I asked the two women standing beside me which way the zoo was. A look of determination came over their faces and they said “please, we go together.” I felt bad, because one had a suitcase and wore sky-high heels and the other carried a tiny baby. But they insisted. So, we walked across the station to the information booth and they found out where to go. Then, they walked me all the way out to where signs pointed the way to the zoo, chatting with me animatedly the whole time. After such a short time with them, it surprised me when I felt sad upon going our separate ways. When you are in a foreign country, you tend to latch onto any human interaction rather quickly.