Monkey Mountain

Imagine getting off a city bus only to be surrounded by monkeys. Having trouble? This should help the theater in your noggin... . The place is Kam Sham Park, or "Monkey Mountain." Located in Shatin (sort of the "Midwest" of Hong Kong), Kam Sham Park is fun and free. For those of you in Hong Kong, just take the train to Mon Kok and hop on the 81 bus until you see a bunch of monkeys on the side of the road. Though Monkey Mountain would be an easy place to stumble upon, I was not fortunate enough to meet the monkeys by surprise.

This is not to say I wasn't astounded by what I found. Their cute humanness surprised the absolute heck out of me. I'll say again what 

I said at the beginning of this entry: Imagine stepping off a bus and immediately walking among mankind's closest relative. It won't matter if you're aware that monkeys are there or not--you will be stupefied.

The lack of cages or any authority figure made it easier to interactively marvel at their utterly adorable humanness. The last time I had butterflies in my stomach from cuteness-induced excitement was when I watched a home video of my little brother Marcus when he was one or two years old climbing over Dad, reaching for some morsel of food he desired.

Yes, I am comparing my little brother to a primate.

If Marcus or the monkeys couldn't reach the target of consumption, the next recipient of their five-fingered extremities would be any article of clothing or exposed whisker that needed a good tug.

 

This always seemed to successfully notify the bearer of the clothes or whiskers that it would really be best for everyone if Marcus or the monkeys were masticating the comestibles they deemed edible for their abdomens.

This aggressive begging process seemed to work quite well both for Marcus and the macaques. So what can we learn from this? Observe: (listen up, Darwin) Survival of the cutest. There is just something so adorable about the curious faces and busy little hands of all these little monkeys (Marcus included)... it's no surprise they have climbed as high as they have on the evolution ladder.

As you may have guessed, the monkeys' cuteness, which attracts the grapes and peanuts of loving humans, is perpetuating their survival. Too much. 

That's right, as you also may have guessed, humans should not be feeding the monkeys. The picture I posted above doesn't exactly provide a convincing argument against feeding the monkeys, however. I shan't halt feeding the monkeys if it is only going to cause, "Rapid growth in monkey population," "Monkeys losing a fear of humans (that is to say, the more you feed these monkeys, the more they will play with you!)" and "The more you feed these monkeys, the more they are going to want to come to this one area (where you always know where they are... so you can always play with an increasing amount of horribly adorable monkeys...)" 

As for the last bullet-point on the sign about increased aggression, I begin to understand what the problem is. And while I don't think they will become aggressive to the point of Congo gorillas, or overpopulated and organized as Charlton Heston's arch nemeses, there is certainly some inimical evolution happening at Monkey Mountain.

So what is the problem? They are relying on humans for food. Therefore, they will continue to multiply in population as they enjoy the benefits of both human and foraged food (so far, so good.) I think the problem is some like this: The more they grow in population, the less food they will find in the scarce jungles of Hong Kong. Soon, many of them will never leave the park area of Monkey Mountain and never learn the skills of foraging, thus strictly relying on human food. At this point, the overabundant monkey population will be in dire need of mankind suddenly surging with interest in monkey cuteness, spending a hefty percentage of their salary on grapes and peanuts for the daily trip to Monkey Mountain. While I want to say my love and devotion to monkeys is unconditional, I shall make no promises as long as this dystopian vision of a daycare lingers in my imagination, where the children constantly beg and bicker the more you feed them and never learn to mature and just get louder and whinier and needier and...

Or, you can look at it this way: While Marcus spent his early 

childhood stunning our parents with his darling, I cannot say his cuteness would be effective on a father or mother monkey. Yet, if he did wander over to Shamrock Park by way of big wheel for a few hours each day where 

he was adored and fed by King Louie and a tribe of apes, I would have progressively devoured more of his rations in his absence back at the household. Soon, he would not know how to find food in the house because it either existed in my belly or because I dominantly hissed at him each time he reached for a popsicle. Thus, he would rely more and more on King Louie. All the meanwhile, King Louie would have lost interest in Marcus's cuteness and would even be a little afraid of his increasing aggression. On top of all this, other apes in the tribe would complain about their empty stomaches and the inflating appetite of the unwanted homosapien. Throw in Marcus's new, potentially deadly case of the chicken pox and he would be ostracized. Enter Shere Khan.

I'm sorry Marcus.

Enjoy some videos, and don't hesitate to email me at jacobcarrigan@gmail.com or write:

Jacob Carrigan

Lingnan University HC 105A

Tuen Mun, New Territories, Hong Kong

Or come visit me here. We can feed the monkeys.