Pan bloglodytes: The official blog of the Chimpanzee and Human Communication Institute

Primates of both the ape and human kind abound at the CHCI. While the chimpanzees remain safely in their rooms and the outdoor area, the CHCI hallways teem with staff, interns, docents, graduate students and fourteen usually disoriented apprentices. As the newbies, we apprentices must learn the names, faces and identities of all primates on the premises, a daunting task indeed with two Andreas, Andy, Anne, Anna, Audrey, Austin, a Debbie, a Debbi, Dani, Jason, Jamie, Julie, Jacqueline, Karla, Katie, Kelly, Kevin, Lani, Lindsay, Lisa, Lynn, Martha, Mary, Mary Lee, Maureen, Michael and one Rozsika to name just a few. For the life of me, I cannot tell Cristy and Kelly apart.

Not only do apprentices find acknowledging the humans difficult, identifying primates with hairy bodies is no simple undertaking either. In person, the three resident chimpanzees are easily recognizable. Unfortunately, our ID assessments, and a good bit of our data collection involves video archives of the entire chimpanzee family, including the late Washoe and Moja. Those five dark, blurry, flurrying doppelgängers seem indistinguishable to our unpracticed eyes.

Scientific research demands exactness, and apprentices must be precise in our recordings of chimpanzees and behaviors. We study hours of videos to ascertain which primate is which, what behavior is what, so we may successfully pass the dreaded “Chimp ID” and “Taxonomy” tests. A taxonomy is analogous to a dictionary of interactions and behaviors. Chimpanzee interactions are classified by their contexts (such as play, greeting, grooming or agonistic) and their most frequent accompanying behaviors, facial expressions, postures, arousal levels, and vocalizations. The CHCI Taxonomy lists more than 200 individual entries plus illustrations and photographs. Apprentices must know the difference between a head nod and a bob as well as the dissimilarities of hold, grasp and a cling, or whether a bite is agonistic, a grooming behavior or play game. When a chimpanzee “grins” he is not happy, but when his face is neutral, he may be relaxed or just contemplating his next move. Oh, that fist bump the Obamas did—that’s called a dab.

[Editor’s note: The grin that Audrey refers to is the “smile” we so often see from chimpanzees on television, in the movies, and on birthday cards—this is a fear grimace and an expression of fear and stress.]

While I aced my taxonomy test, I, mortified, failed at chimp identification. Austin, an undergraduate student who also once struggled with a chimpanzee identity crisis, offered some pointers to those of us shamefully less astute. Thanks to him we all passed the second round of chimp id exams.

Here are some quick tips to help you “name that primate” at CHCI:

First, it’s helpful to tell the males from the females, so check out backsides. Females have pronounced genital swellings.

Washoe not only was the matriarch of the CHCI clan, she definitely was the “Big Mama” of the family. With a huge female swelling and a well-defined middle-aged female “pear” shape, she was easy to spot.

Moja always loved to wear clothes, especially in her favorite shades of red or pink. However, those wily CHCI staffers never include video clips with those haute couture giveaways in the assessments. So, apprentices looked for her very straight limbs during quadrupedal movement and a big balding patch on the back of her head.

Tatu, a petite lady, sports a full white beard, arched posture and bent hands of an oldster but is agile and calculating. She enjoys tricking apprentices on the berm by sneaking out of sight while we file out our field logs. She frequently signs CHEESE/, a favorite treat along with just about anything else made from milk.

Dar, known as the gentle giant, is the largest of the group. His gray back, floppy ears and freckled Jimmy Durante face usually makes him fairly easy to recognize. He enjoys reading books and magazines about mechanical things. He tends to be laid back, or shy, will display to visitors initially, then go back up to meditate on a terrace or hammock.

Loulis, Washoe’s pampered son, plays his princely role well. He’s much smaller than Dar, and the ridges on his forehead are one of his most observable features. He’s the most gregarious of the chimpanzees, quick to engage in anything social with chimpanzees or humans—friends or strangers. He is also the most likely to display and threaten—again with friends or strangers—though sometimes it appears that he’s doing so for the sheer enjoyment of it. While his mother Washoe loved shoes as much as any Sex in the City gal, Loulis seems to enjoy feet without shoes, and signs HURRY/ for us to bare our tootsies.

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The first two weeks of our CHCI apprenticeship became a blur of lectures, tests, meetings, projects and bleach.

We first learned safety protocols. Tatu, Dar and Loulis may be very peaceful souls, but even a friendly hug with arms up to eight times stronger than ours would prove severely injurious. We must stay at least 36 inches away from the chimpanzee enclosures and doors to prevent even a playful interchange to unexpectedly harm either Homo sapiens or Pan troglodytes. Of course, we also took the requisite refresher on proper ladder safety, which for this middle-aged klutz probably poises more danger than any misguided primate encounters ever could.

Once we learned the safety ropes, we got out the scrub brushes. Cleaning both chimpanzee and human areas occupy a large part of the day. Once the family finishes breakfast and begins their day, we clean and disinfect their night enclosures. Breakfast dishes must be washed, nesting blankets and sheets laundered, toys disinfected and enclosures hosed, soaped, hosed again and squeegeed dry. Food spills and waste material are flushed down drains. When the family returns to the night enclosures for lunch, their daytime areas are spot cleaned if necessary, as is their night enclosure after the meal. In the evening, the indoor play and outdoor areas again are hosed, disinfected, hosed and dried including the high ledges where the chimps often perch. After dinnertime, the kitchen gets the twice over, garbage dumped, dishwasher turned on, and carpets vacuumed. Finally, we ready toys, magazines and other fun items for the next day.

Although all caregivers participate, the housekeeping chores seem like a type of apprentice initiation rite. By the end of our shift, we’ll be soaked to the bone (We novice hose handlers tend to spray more on each other than the walls). We pull on fireman-esque rubber boots usually a size too big or small for our feet. We juggle pails, long squeegees, brushes and bottles of disinfectant (for the floors, walls, and structures) and vinegar (for shiny windows) as we waddle toward the daytime rooms—tip-toeing to avoid the red taped “no human” safety zones marked on the floor.

Then our apprentice initiation ritual turns into an overt hazing. Loulis awaits with a bit of dinner or (more typically) a big mouthful of water which he proudly spits on the hapless apprentices as we pass. Caregivers warned us not to react to such displays—so as not to encourage future entertainment. While we march on, ignoring our dripping hair, Loulis seems to enjoy the last laugh.

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Snow-covered mountains in June, sunrise at 4:30 a.m., dorm living for the first time in 30 years, and pant hoots from the next room. I don’t think I’m in Houston, Texas anymore.

Thirteen adventurous souls from across the nation — and one very jet-lagged wayfarer from the Czech Republic — relinquished our summer with family, friends and pets to volunteer as apprentices at the Chimpanzee and Human Communication Institute at Central Washington University in Ellensburg. As apprentices, we receive down and dirty (quite literally) experience in the day-to-day care and comfort of its famous resident chimpanzee family — Tatu, Dar and Loulis. We also support the unparalleled research in interspecies communication and chimpanzee behavior conducted here.

Each apprentice brings distinctive background to the team. Some apprentices previously volunteered with other primate sanctuaries. Many are students with or recent graduates from psychology, anthropology or animal behavior college programs. One worked as an archeologist. Another brought his cherished cello. Three apprentices come from the Bridges to Baccalaureate Program that provides opportunities for exceptional high school and Yakima Valley Community College students to make the transition into university level primatology studies.

The two “nontraditional” apprentices may be considerably older but not necessarily wiser than the rest. We both are married, one with five children and the other (me) with four pets. We both share joints that protest too much as we hose the top rafters of the chimpanzee enclosures. My fellow “mature” colleague, a life-long learner, seeks a psychology graduate degree while I, a fifty-something with public relations background, now write about the human-animal bond. I hope to experience a conversation with another sentient, albeit a non-human, being.

We apprentices will let you vicariously join us in our once-in-a-lifetime learning experience, so check back often for updates.

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With all of the hype of the latest J.K. Rowling book and movie this past July, Lindsay and I thought the chimpanzees needed to be included in on this phenomenon, this prodigy, this boy named Harry Potter! With this idea formulated for our enhanced enrichment, we set out to realize a vision, to charter a journey into the magical world of Harry Potter. Armed only with our Harry Potter obsession and our imaginations we created an epic day, built with our very own muggle hands to bring the magic of Hogwarts to the chimpanzees.

The Chimpanzees would need broomsticks, obviously, to get around this mysterious world, we fashioned Nimbus 2000 Pan troglodytes models for their flying desires.

However, you can’t be a true wizard unless you have your trusty wand! These were provided for any spells they wished to cast. The wands had an applesauce snack hidden inside for their fun day.

In order to recreate the magic of Hogwarts, masterful portraits were hung on the walls and floating candles were suspended all around the grand room. With the Gryffindor emblem emblazoned on our banners and the heroic colors of maroon and gold adorning the enclosure, the East Room was transformed into a magnificent rendition of Hogwarts and the spirit it embodies.

Not only were there broomsticks, wands, portraits and floating candles, but there were snitches, witch hats, scarves, Harry Potter book covers, the whomping willow and fun laboratory experiments which resembled frozen fruit and water in the shape of cups.

But alas! One is never safe in the world of Harry Potter. Lo and behold a Basilisk had slithered its way into the east room and lay sulking in the shadows of the shaky tree ready to strike at any moment! But have no fear, Loulis and Dar promptly destroyed the shredded paper filled Basilisk before it could cause any harm.

With the danger now eliminated, Tatu dug into the candles in an earnest search to see what she could find, only to be showered with more shredded paper (of course she found 1 of the only 2 candles that did not have a marshmallow in it!). Discouraged temporarily, Tatu turned her attention to the yummy fruit hidden in ice. Meanwhile, Dar cast his frozen treat onto the ground in order to get at the fruit inside. Washoe calmly worked on her own fruit cup all the while.

Later in the day somebody found a marshmallow in the floating candles and the marshmallow frenzy began! Everybody was able to enjoy the fun food and enrichment of Harry Potter day. We feel that we were able to sufficiently recreate a magical world for the chimpanzees and include them in the Harry Potter craze. An epic day indeed!

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Music has been a part of my life since I can remember; I began playing the piano at age six, the trumpet at age ten, and the euphonium at fourteen. I was fascinated by the effect music had on me: it calmed me and excited me at the same time; it was a means to express myself that I had never explored.

We wanted to bring some of the magic of music to the chimpanzees – the excitement of sitting in an orchestra pit right before the concert begins, the feeling of awe a child has when he or she sees a musical instrument for the first time, the elegance that surrounds a night at the symphony.

The first step toward creating our “Night at the Symphony” at CHCI was selecting elegant clothes that the chimps could nest with during this special day. My mother had purchased glittery top hats for Dar and Loulis, and we selected two beautiful gowns from the enrichment room for Washoe and Tatu. These were set out on the tire in the East room, with artificial roses around them to simulate those thrown on stage by patrons at the symphony beckoning an encore.

Instruments came next, designed especially for the chimpanzees to interact with! Hallie and I constructed a harp out of cardboard and yarn: the frame was cardboard and the yarn (complete with dried apples tied in) formed the strings! This was put on the wall for the chimpanzees to discover during their morning forage. My father sent some PVC pipe from his workshop and we filled them with beaded necklaces (and a few slices of fresh oranges) to create shakers. To finish off the decorations and preparation, black and white streamers were tied all around the East room and music notes cut out of cardboard were taped all over the walls, wooden platform, and shaky tree!

The chimpanzees seemed to enjoy this day of enrichment thoroughly! Dar and Loulis headed straight for the harp with the dried apples and picked out each one, while Washoe and Tatu set to opening the shakers with the oranges inside. A few boxes of colored water were set around as well for added enrichment and Tatu managed to gather all of them for herself!

Hallie and I had so much fun bringing a magical “Night at the Symphony” to Washoe’s family – judging by the way Washoe and Tatu manipulated those shakers, we just might have some musicians on our hands!

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