Mind Body Seoul: Lions and Tigers and Bears...

I love animals - always have. As a child I had a collection of Zoobooks magazines, which I studied from cover to cover. I was fascinated by the bones and musculature of the humpback whale, and found the predatory quirks of the great cats fascinating. This interest has carried into my adult life, and I find myself tuning into the National Geographic channel every chance I get (unfortunately, NatGeo is unavailable in Korea, but the Discovery channel has mitigated my craving for the time being).

The next best thing to watching an animal on TV, or reading about it in a magazine is to see one in real life. I understand people have varying opinions on zoos, and I, like many, would love to see animal's in their natural habitats rather than in pens or lame imitations of "the wild". However, I believe in zoos, and their ability to educate the public and infuse people with a healthy-dose of responsibility for wildlife. It worked for me, and maybe one day I will get a chance to put my seemingly useless animal trivia to use. Perhaps I will be stranded in the African bush, and will only survive because I knew to stay away from hippos despite their vegetarian diet (they kill more people than any other animals in Africa combined). Or, maybe when I decide to swim in the shark-infested waters off the tip of South Africa, I will know to wait until late morning or early afternoon when the Great white sharks have stopped hunting (their prime ambush time is within the first two hours after sunrise when they can remain invisible under the water's shadowy surface). Most likely, I will only be able to use my animal knowledge while strolling along the seemingly safe paths at a zoo.

Two days after the infamous hiking trip, my legs were still rigid and sore, and I waddled off the subway to the entrance of the Seoul Grand Park like a pregnant woman with swollen limbs. The brilliant trees lining the path to the zoo's entrance looked all too familiar, and when we reached a "You Are Here" sign we understood why - the zoo is built into the side of the same mountain we were still recovering from. Luckily, the zoo does not consider itself an extreme sport destination, but provides the option of lifts to carry its visitors to various points of interest. We decided to take the lift to the top of the zoo, and would then walk back down slowly, without rush. As I sat on the lift and let the slow breeze blow through my hair, I decided this was our best idea yet.

The normal rules of a zoo, though probably in place, are not followed by Koreans. If the standard "Do not feed the animals" signs existed, people were clearly ignoring them. After watching the large, brown bears for a moment I noticed their unusual, almost human-like behavior. One would sit down like an old man in his favorite recliner after Thanksgiving dinner while the others danced around on their hind legs like little leaguers anticipating a pop fly in the outfield. The squeals and applause from the crowd turned into rewards as they threw pieces of fruit, cookies, and potato chips into the enclosure. I looked around in disbelief while the feeding frenzy continued, and almost doubled over in laughter when I saw an emergency phone marked, "SOS", directly in front of the cuddly teddies. Perhaps people here should have a greater regard for human safety before they decide to teach a bear how to cross a dangerously, small moat in an exhibit - all in the name of an imitation Oreo. The other animals were just as alert running around their enclosures, and interacting with the human vending machines. Any animal that wasn't behind glass had an opportunity for a mid-afternoon snack, and from the looks of things - this wasn't their first encounter with gluttony.

Although the facilities appeared outdated, and some times dangerous, the zoo holds boasting rights for its exquisite scenery, and picturesque landscape. It was, hands-down, the most beautiful zoo I have ever waddled through.