Report on Chinese Zoos by Paul Littlefair Campaigns Officer International Department, RSPCA (UK)

East Asia Tour, Spring 1999

Shanghai Wild Animal Park, Nanjing Market, Nanjing Zoo, Beijing Zoo, Beijing Aquarium

Introduction

I was appointed in November 1998 to take responsibility for developing the Department's work in the People's Republic of China, Korea and Taiwan. This report consists of extracts from a broader report on my East Asia tour of March-April 1999. It is intended as an informal, personal account of my visits to zoos and markets in the Chinese cities of Shanghai, Nanjing and Beijing, the purpose of which was to gather first-hand evidence of current conditions in the country. On the basis of this I hope to be able to open a dialogue with the Ministry of Construction - responsible for zoos - and the State Forestry Administration - for wild animals - with a view to encouraging an improvement in standards.

Shanghai

Shanghai is China's largest city, with a population of over twelve million. I lived here for a year in the eighties, have visited many times since and know the city well, although its rapid development in recent years has transformed the skyline. On 27 March I made the two-hour bus journey out of Shanghai city proper to the southeastern suburb of Nanhui, location of the Shanghai Wild Animal Park.

Shanghai Wild Animal Park

Opened in 1995, this is a park of 153 hectares consisting of some zoo-style enclosures around a lake, several performance arenas and a funfair, and five large 'safari park' compounds through which visitors are driven in buses. The park is evidently aimed at attracting local tourists - it would be difficult for foreign visitors to find, accessible only by taxi as the bus service is publicised only in Chinese, nor are there guides in English. On a busy Saturday afternoon I counted one other Westerner in five hours. The entrance fee was ¥70 (£6), expensive by local standards.

In the zoo area there were a number of enclosures allowing the public to get close to a range of birds and mammals. Visitors bought seed to feed the doves and flamingoes as wardens with loudhailers urged them not to make sudden movements or otherwise frighten the birds.

In a children's corner visitors fed vegetables to goats and pot-bellied pigs wandering freely in and out of the compound. In wooden huts with enclosures there were dogs (around 20 pekinese, shihtzu and other small breeds), cats (up to 10 cooped up inside a hut), rabbits (40+, overcrowded) and chickens.

Elsewhere there were red and blue macaws, peacocks roaming freely, and a monkey enclosure accessible to the public containing mainly golden monkeys and lemurs. Despite signs warning against teasing them, the monkeys were clearly used to being abused : I saw visitors of all ages whistling, shouting, throwing rubbish and otherwise threatening the animals. Older lemurs occupied a cage within the enclosure (with a large rat), while half a dozen younger ones huddled together trembling.

Around the large, open lake there were a variety of waterfowl, ducks, geese, black swans, storks and other mostly indigenous birds.

Larger enclosures contained three varieties of kangaroo, emus, ostriches, llamas and cranes.

Conditions were spacious but the land was poor for grazing - mud with very little grass.

There were photography areas where, for a fee, visitors posed with parrots or astride bactrians. Emaciated and hard-driven single horses pulled four-wheeled carriages of 6-8 visitors around the zoo area.

In the main performance arena I watched two 45-minute circus-style shows involving dozens of human performers in costume and a wide range of animals. The audience was around two thousand strong and included families and large parties of nursery schoolchildren. For much of the time the arena was open, with no fencing separating it from the audience, but for the big cat shows a cage was assembled in the centre. I also saw performances in a smaller arena and in a pool arena:

- A llama trotted around the arena as two very frightened toy poodles were forced to jump on and off its back.

- A dozen cowboys and cowgirls performed acrobatics on horseback.

- Peacocks flew down from a thirty-foot backdrop to the centre of the arena. A group of cranes walked around eating seed scattered before them.

- In a Silk Road parade, bactrian camels were ridden around the arena and made to kneel to the audience.

- An Asian elephant performed balancing tricks on fore and hind legs.

- An extremely nervous monkey rode a bicycle and walked a tightrope. Later the monkey performed a series of increasingly difficult handstands on the back of a goat which was standing on all four hooves on the rim of a vase, which was in turn balanced on a tightrope suspended eight feet above the arena.

- Two one-year-old moon bears chained to saddle-less bicycles, forepaws draped over the handlebars, rode around the arena as trainers cracked whips above them. One bear fell off its bicycle prematurely and was beaten in full view of the audience as it scurried back to the tunnel. Later the bears lay on their backs rotating firesticks on their paws. These bears were used to being maltreated. I watched them while in the tunnel out of sight of the audience and waiting to perform, they stood on their hind legs, occasionally dropping to all fours to rest when their trainers were not looking. The trainers only had to turn around, raise the stick, and the bears resumed the upright position immediately. In the tunnel I asked the trainers about their methods and took close-up pictures.

- Two 18-month-old cheetahs chained to a trolley were wheeled slowly around the edge of the arena by two women in costume. Surrounded by the audience, the cheetahs swung nervously from side to side. In the tunnel I talked to the women who had trained them and learned that the park had bred two litters of cheetahs of five and six cubs each.

- A lioness and a tiger were goaded into c1imbing an A-frame ladder and coming down the other side. The tiger also walked across a woman reclining on a raised plank. Later the tiger, always very agitated and reluctant, was harnessed to a metal sled. A middle-aged man from the audience volunteered to sit in the sled and be pulled around the arena.

- The finale of the main show involved a nervous horse fitted with a wooden platform for a saddle. The tiger mounted the horse, its paws on the platform, its head just above the horse's, and rode around the arena. After the performance members of the audience paid ¥15 (£1.20) to have their photographs taken with the tiger. It was difficult to tell whether the animal had been drugged.

- In a neighbouring smaller arena up to eight lion and tiger cubs, under a year old were being taken through a series of simple tricks - rolling over, responding to a stick and generally exhibiting playful behaviour. These would appear to be the next generation of performing animals.

- The pool arena was being painted on that day and half of it was roped off, although this did not prevent the sealion show - juggling balls and hoops - from going ahead.

The drive-through area of the park consists of five large compounds, surrounded by high fencing and double sets of Rates. Forty-seater buses take visitors through the area, The driver gives a commentary and sells baskets of fruit, nuts and vegetables with which to feed the animals.

The herbivore compound is the largest and contains rolling hills and a few trees. It had rained heavily the previous day and the resulting quagmire resembled the Somme . thick mud, large pools of water, stumps of trees and not a sign of grass. I saw more than twenty Przewalski's horses galloping around. There were also zebras, at least three varieties of local deer (too far away to recognise), Gnus and yaks, feeding from hay mangers. In separate enclosures within the herbivore compound there were two Asian elephants, two white (7) rhinos and up to fifteen giraffes (two approached our bus to be fed). I learned later from IFAW that the park's first batch of giraffes had all died in transit or shortly after arrival.

The bear compound is home to a dozen animals of three varieties - brown, moon and Malay or sun (just one specimen with an injured paw). Here I saw grass, a few trees and a number of covered, raised wooden platforms. Passengers dropped food from the bus windows as the bears competed with the golden monkeys which have colonised their com pound.

In three separate, spacious compounds, all green and containing small lakes, there were two pairs of cheetahs (siblings), lions (4 adults, 8 young) and 6-8 Manchurian and, according to the driver, South China tigers. At the entrances to both the lion and the tiger compounds, I saw live chickens in cages for sale for ¥50 (E4). To the delight of the other passengers, a man got off the bus to buy one. The bus driver helpfully pointed out the most effective way of dangling the bird out of the narrow window to attract the lions. As we drove slowly through the compound the younger lions jumped up at the bus and the man taunted them with the chicken. He finally threw it into the grass, it was seized by one of the lions which took it, still alive, to a safe distance to pluck. This scene was repeated in the tiger compound with another chicken. The driver advised us that if it was thrown into the water the tigers would dive in and this would make for a more impressive sight. The passengers enjoyed this immensely - parents held their children up to the window for a better view.

Nanjing

On 28 March I travelled to Nanjing, a four-hour bus journey northwest of Shanghai. The city is home to around five million people and is the capital of Jiangsu Province - a relatively prosperous region. The market at Fuzimiao ('Confucius' Temple') in the city is famous for plants, as well as birds, fish and other animals. On the day of my visit it was raining and the number of stalls was reduced somewhat, but they were doing a reasonable trade. Two days later, the weather improved and I spent five hours at Nanjing Zoo.

Pet Market

I counted more than thirty dogs at various stalls. Most of the traders were not very knowledgeable about the animals. When asked the breeds they described puppies as 'pocket dogs' or 'portables', the emphasis clearly being on their convenient size to the customer. Puppies tended to be one to three months old. I saw a shihtzu bitch with a litter of five at ¥280 (£24) each; larger dogs selling for ¥650 (£54, a month's average salary); pekinese at ¥600 (£50), sharpei and alsatian puppies. I told the traders I was a pet-shop owner in Britain and this enabled me to take pictures, tape-record my observations and ask questions freely, People greeted me with friendly curiosity. Most of the dogs appeared to be well cared-for, although I saw one woman hanging an alsatian puppy by its hind legs as she groomed it roughly with a wire brush: as she caught its sensitive underparts and muzzle it yelped in pain.

There were birds of all kinds and in large numbers. I saw an owl in a cage 18" tall and 10" in diameter; a peregrine falcon which absolutely filled its plastic-covered cage; young, locally-bred budgerigars, typically 50-60 in trays 3" high and 2' square; locally-caught finches, very agitated; waxwings; three varieties of canary; orioles (a favourite songbird in China).

I counted only four cats, presumably because of the rain, all poorly-groomed and in fairly miserable shape.

There were large numbers of goldfish, some tropical fish, terrapins and tortoises.

There were some petcare items on sale, in particular flea collars (labelled in English only), chews and dog shampoo (made in Shanghai for the domestic market - labelled in Chinese).

Nanjing Zoo

The city's zoo moved from its former location in Xuanwu Park to a new and much larger site in the northern suburbs in October 1998. The official name is Hongshan Forest Zoo. It covers 83 hectares of wooded hills and is home to over 3000 animals. The entrance fee was a reasonable ¥20 (£l.70). I was accompanied by my friend, Zang Ping, whom I have known since my days as a student in Nanjing in the mid-eighties.

The north entrance of the zoo looks out onto an open square and features a pleasant artificial lake, with grassy banks and an island complete with ducks and geese. The road winds up a gentle slope to the three main hills which make up the zoo.

The reptile house was attractive, the exhibits behind glass in generously-sized rooms. Unfortunately most were filled with artificial trees and plants - snakes slithered across plastic grass. Turtles sat forlornly in small ponds painted in swimming-pool blue. The building also contained an aquarium. .

At the entrance to an area set aside as a 'pet garden' for children, young women sold small baskets of fruit, vegetables, nuts and seeds. In front of a supremely kitsch birdhouse, I saw shihtzu and pekinese, in threes or fours in wire cages, raised off the ground. It was a hot, spring day, the cages were placed in the sunlight and the dogs were panting. I pointed out to one of the women that their water bowls were dry. She looked quizzically at me and ambled across the courtyard with a hosepipe to refill them. I wondered how long she would have waited if no-one had reminded her.

There were dozens of rabbits in cages. The large males were aggressive and soon a man appeared to treat one for a bleeding bite wound (he dabbed iodine on it). Inexplicably, other rabbits had the luxury of a large, grassy compound with an artificial cave for shelter and an earthen bank in which to burrow.

Half a dozen goats occupied a cave dug out of the hillside and fronted by bars. The bare earth floor offered nothing in the way of grazing material.

Elsewhere in the 'pet garden' there were six golden monkeys - men were working on enlarging their tiny cages - and a range of birds: eagles, owls, doves, peacocks, turkeys and pheasants.

Two spacious bear pits with trees, rocks and grass were marred only by the construction of an overhead walkway, allowing visitors to look right down onto the animals and encouraging the dropping of litter into the pits. A brown bear paced elaborate figure-of-eights.

The zoo's collection of big cats was impressive: Bengal and Manchurian tigers, and lions, occupying large, glass-fronted compounds cut into the hillside; in smaller cages, leopards, panthers, a puma and a lynx.

I saw two varieties of fox, both of which are farmed for their fur in China; also racoons, a porcupine, a jackal and a very playful pair of otters having fun with a running tap - perhaps the only animals seen exhibiting natural behaviour in the entire zoo.

The giraffe house was set in a green and spacious compound; zebras, deer, kangaroos and other grazing animals had similarly attractive surroundings.

An elephant was being put through its paces - a repertoire of balancing tricks and manoeuvres set to music.

There were extensive aviaries with orioles, mynahs, finches, various parrots and parakeets, pheasants, partridges, cranes and other mostly indigenous birds.

The guidebook boasts of the zoo's "many breathtaking and interesting animal show programs such as large scale animals show, elephant show, ox fighting and horse fighting". The 'animal fighting ground' was a large amphitheatre of mud surrounded by a wooden corral and overlooked on two sides by concrete terraces built into the hillside. On this day there were no performances but hoofmarks suggested it had seen recent action. Reports of such shows from other Chinese zoos tell of mares in season being paraded before pairs of stallions to goad them into fighting.

To a packed house of over a hundred at the performance arena I watched the ubiquitous bears on bicycles, their red, silk capes flying behind them; at one point a trainer hitched a lift on the back while the bear peddled furiously; bears dressed for a traditional wedding, carrying a bride's sedan; monkeys playing the cymbals and doing various tricks.

In the photography area I found a bactrian, a horse, a goat pulling a small, two-wheeled cart and a year-old moon bear. For a fee, visitors could pose with the animals and take pictures. On this day business was slow and we chatted with the young men in charge of the animals. My companion, Mr Zang, was suddenly scratched across the hand by the bear. The graze was slight but blood was visible and there followed a discussion on whether to get it treated. The young men played it down, showing their scarred arms and assuring us that this was an everyday occurrence. One helpful bystander suggested my friend sue for compensation. Mr Zang insisted on seeing the manager and having him sign a statement on the incident: if the scratch developed into something serious he could make a claim against the zoo.

This episode gave us access to the manager's office at the back of the performance area. Behind the scenes I saw a young trainer beating a recalcitrant and terrified golden monkey; a pitiful shihtzu with matted hair, barking itself hoarse, alone in a cage with no water (again I nagged someone into fetching some); a cage containing two tigers and a lion with a goat tethered just out of reach (a tiger stretched a paw through the bars and took repeated swipes); a horse saddled with a wooden platform - clear evidence of a tiger-on-horseback act, although I did not see it; the bear-cyclists wrestling playfully in their dingy cage.

Beijing

The country's sprawling capital is home to the prestigious Beijing Zoo, famous for its panda breeding programme, and a brand new Aquarium.

Beijing Zoo

The country's best-known zoo occupies a 90-hectare site in the northwest of Beijing. The zoo first opened in 1906 but took on its present form in the fifties. I took a two-hour bus ride across the city on a warm Saturday morning. The weather had brought out local families and out-of-towners in droves, as well as a sprinkling of foreign tourists. The entrance fee was a very modest ¥5, but a combined ticket for the zoo and the adjoining newly-opened Beijing Aquarium cost ¥80 (E6.70). Further charges were made for entering other parts of the zoo.

An extra ¥4 got me into the zoo's main attraction - the panda house. I counted three large adults and two younger adults, and I had seen press reports of a newborn panda but it was not on display. Inside glass-fronted cages three of the animals lolled around munching bamboo, while outside the remaining two snoozed on a large grassy mound, furnished with a couple of trees, a slide and a few toys. A prominent sign read: "Keep this place tidy for our national treasure". A large crowd lined the wall of the moat, people whistled, shouted and clapped in a vain effort to rouse the pandas. The compound was, however, relatively free from litter.

Loudspeakers announced the next show in the performance arena, and I hurried along to catch the back end of the finale - the disco-dancing chimpanzee, in a pink dress spinning wildly on its back on a low table, almost in time to the music. After ten minutes the stand filled up with a new audience and the show started again. The trainers were well-dressed, very gentle and clearly more polished than their counterparts in Shanghai and Nanjing. The show was much more low key; indoors, with the audience along one side of the hall (the animals were not surrounded); a clean parquet floor; painted sets. A large, red macaw opened the show with beak tricks - raising a flag etc; parakeets flew thirty feet back and forth between trainer's hand and mock trainee, collecting mock peaches; children in the audience stood with paper money laid across open palms, as finches flew to each hand retrieving the money, returning it to the trainer and picking up a reward; three shihtzu and a lhasa (?) rolled drums, begged and conga-ed across the stage on hind legs; more parrot tricks, finding hidden objects, playing basketball, firing toy guns; golden monkeys on roller-skates, pulling a rickshaw full of bricks, building a tower, somersaulting - no sign of chains or whips, although the monkeys certainly knew their place; a muzzled moon bear playing basketball against its trainer - very elaborate tackling tricks; a bear catching hoops, feigning stubbornness and receiving light slaps and kicks from the trainer - part of a long and humiliating act ending in the predictable lap on a bicycle; pink-frocked chimp doing arithmetical puzzles, 'weightlifting' and break dancing. This is where I came in.

Two polar bears occupied a large concrete pit containing a rocky hill, trees encased in concrete (no chance of being clawed) and a small, shallow pool. Both animals displayed extremely disturbed, stereotypic behaviour, pacing and swinging their heads. The larger animal nuzzled up against the base of the wall, oblivious to the crowd directly above dropping ice-cream, snacks and litter onto its head. I watched for ten minutes as, in eight second cycles, the bear paced backwards and forwards. Visitors' comments included: "Oh, how cute, he's dancing". My reply that the animal was seriously ill was met with a nonplussed gawp (to many visitors I was more interesting than the animals).

In a neighbouring pit, larger but otherwise similar, I counted five brown bears stretched out at intervals along one wall as visitors bombarded them with food, despite signs admonishing them not to. The familiar human cacophony reached a crescendo here. Two large moon bears had the run of a third, smaller pit, which was entirely concrete.

If the bears were wretched, the elephant house contained even greater horrors. A series of barren, moated compounds was divided by thick, steel bars, adjoined an aging, red-brick building. As I entered the dark hall the stench was overpowering; dung littered the floor, one animal had covered itself in its own faeces; the water troughs were mostly empty; close inspection revealed five Asian and two African elephants, including a two(?)-year-old, all tethered in separate stalls by the foreleg with metre-long steel chains, preventing the animals even from turning properly to face the visitors, some of whom threw litter. There seemed to be no reason why the elephants should not be untethered and outside - their keepers sat in a circle playing cards in the sunshine.

Kangaroos enjoyed a large, grassy compound and grazed nonchalantly.

The monkey mountain boasted chain bridges, c1imbing frames, tyres and other toys. A forty strong troupe of golden monkeys played, groomed, munched or simply gazed down at the visitors.

The aviaries were in very sad shape, some glass-fronted, some wire cages, most of them bare and rusting and with dirty or empty food and water bowls. Some of the cages held bustards, vultures, peacocks and large birds of prey whose wingspan was greater than the width of the cages.

New building work was taking place, possibly on aviaries to replace the existing buildings.  A pitch black hall housed civets, badgers, porcupines, ferrets, lorises, lemurs and other nocturnal creatures in conditions difficult to see,

Five separate grassy enclosures radiate from the lion and tiger mountain, home to a leopard, lions and two varieties of tiger.

Small mammals occupied similar cages to those of the birds; I saw a solitary otter, masked civets, squirrels, racoons and others, all subject to hissing, clapping, tapping on the glass and even spitting from the visitors. Notices read: "Don't tease the animals".

A large variety of deer, antelope, yaks, wild asses and other hoofed animals are enclosed in dusty compounds in the northern part of the zoo. There was no grazing land to be seen, although much of the zoo itself is fairly green, with trees, patches of grass and quiet pathways.

In an enclosure containing giraffes, goats and rabbits, visitors could buy vegetables and enter to feed the animals.

A thoroughly depressing reptile house contained snakes, crocodiles, lizards, frogs, tortoises and turtles, all in the most dismal tanks. This building should be demolished.

Along with the bears and the elephants, the primates survive in undoubtedly the poorest conditions. The outdoor enclosures were closed for building work, so all of the primates were inside; gibbons, spider monkeys, langurs and other monkeys, clearly distressed, trembling in dark, glass-fronted cages; forty visitors of all ages, shouting and pounding on the glass to provoke the gorillas (the men especially seemed to enjoy this).

Beijing Aquarium

Billed as 'the world's largest', this huge, white shell-shaped aquarium opened just four days before my visit. The building, reminiscent of a multiplex cinema, lies on a plot northeast of the zoo and is divided into five main areas, a restaurant, a shop and a performance pool. My contact at IFAW told me that many of the fish had died in the first few days and that television news reports had blamed ignorant visitors for tapping on the tanks and using flash photography. On the day of my visit it was extremely busy and noise levels were high.

First impressions were good: smartly uniformed staff moved visitors along, urging them with loudhailers not to take pictures or otherwise disturb the fish (unfortunately the visitors paid little attention). The decor, layout, lighting and signs were all of a high standard, and the displays (in Chinese only) were well-presented and informative. Topics included the importance of ecological balance in the rainforest, oil pollution, the history of whaling, maritime mythology etc. School parties would get a lot out of this. The guide leaflet was bilingual; the labelling on the tanks, however, only rarely included Latin or: English names.

Each area focused on one aspect of aquatic life: the rainforest, tidal coasts, sharks, whales and dolphins and coral reefs. A path wended its way lazily around the building taking visitors through a range of sound and water effects, rockpools, waterfalls, huge tanks etc, the scenery changing constantly. Tanks typically represented different parts of the world's oceans - the Indian Ocean, Alaska, the Great Barrier Reef etc.

A 3000-seat 'theatre' will eventually, we are promised, host "world-class Broadway entertainment". On the day of my visit around ten dolphins were being trained by a group of four young Western trainers.

Large open spaces separated each theme, with a pleasant rest area and restaurant. Merchandising was evident in a shop packed with cuddly starfish and plastic whales.

For more on Chinese Zoos, see the Zoo Pages.