Honolulu Star-Advertiser © Susan Scott
March 05, 2004
While visiting neighbors a few months ago, I mentioned that in February, I’d be making my annual trip to Bangladesh to do some volunteer work. “Stop and see us on the way back,” these part-time Tokyo residents said.
“Thank you,” I said of this generous offer. “I’d love to visit Japan in winter. It’s the best time to see the snow monkeys.”
The couple stared at me blankly. “What are snow monkeys?” they asked.
Snow monkeys belong to a group of primates called macaques, short-tailed monkeys that inhabit mountain and rocky regions in Asia and North Africa. About 60,000 macaques live in Japan’s hilly forests, where the winters are cold and the snow is deep.
One troupe of Japan’s macaques, however, learned a unique way to cope with these conditions. Monkeys in the Nagano prefecture watched local people bathing in outdoor tubs and, on frigid winter days, joined them.
This became so common that in 1967, using rocks and natural hot springs, people built the monkeys a pool of their own. Today the area is a popular park, hosting about 250 snow monkeys.
The exceptional learning abilities of Japan’s macaques caused this northernmost of all monkey species to be named a national treasure. Not everyone, however, was enamored with these clever little creatures.
In the early 1970s, development came to Japan’s mountains, and some snow monkeys lost their natural food sources of berries, bark and insects. (In coastal areas they dive for shellfish.) As a result, these resourceful animals, which stand about 3 feet tall, learned to trigger the electric eye of Kyoto grocery store doors and went “shopping.”
Others stole apples from orchards, some even collecting their loot in plastic bags.
A few angry farmers shot the raiders, but most people advocated relocation. A Texas rancher came to the rescue. Japanese wildlife workers flew the monkeys to Hawaii, where the Army National Guard picked them up and flew them to the ranch.
This sagebrush and cactus environment was a far cry from the monkeys’ natural habitat, but guess what? They adapted. Today, about 275 snow monkeys thrive in this Texas primate rescue center.
Meanwhile, writers, photographers and filmmakers were making Japan’s hot-tubbing monkeys famous. Researchers liked them too, setting up feeding stations to better study macaque culture. Feeding continues to this day.
I know this because my friends arranged the long trip to the monkey park by car, two trains and a bus. As we hiked the last mile through ice and snow, I worried. What if, after all this, the monkeys weren’t there?
But these little Einsteins know a good thing when they see it. Why run around in the freezing woods when there’s free food and a spa nearby? The monkeys were there by the dozens.
And they’re as cute as their pictures. When dry they look like furry little bears. Wet, they look small and vulnerable, which is why the head male doesn’t go into the pool. In this matriarchal society, where females choose their leader, size matters.
I loved seeing snow monkeys and my friends did, too. I hope they’ll feel the same about humpback whales. They don’t know it yet, but when the couple returns to Hawaii next month, we’re going whale watching.