Chimpanzees, Children and Chickens

I’m back – after two weeks of story writing, deadlines and then illness. And (as I’m rather late for my post-Diwali story) I thought I’d kick off with this one.

Whilst reading Last Chance to See I was reminded of the fact that chimps can count. What surprises me with this is the amount of research that scientists will put in in order to confirm such a fact. After all, it seems obvious really – given that much more lowly animals are also fine in the counting stakes. Take my hens, and particularly my cockerel – not only are they very family oriented and protective but they do a mean job of counting too.

            Each morning when I let them out of their cabins (the younger ones still insist on sleeping in a separate cabin) they all undergo the registration rigmarole imposed upon them by their very loving (though rather bossy) cockerel. Before he will touch a morsel of grain he runs around, taking a count and checking they are all present and correct. It’s a lovely sight. Similarly at bedtime, you will see him carefully rounding them up – and he won’t stop and go to bed himself until he knows they’re all accounted for.

            So if a lowly hen can count then it really isn’t much stretch of the imagination to think that chimps would also be able. Of course, You Tube reveals that chimps recognise numbers – and I haven’t seen that replicated in hens yet so maybe there is a point to the research.

            What I did find interesting was the following experiment – a test to see who are the better learners, chimps or children? Watch carefully.

            Now I’m not sure the researchers have covered every possibility of why the children fail to learn for themselves – I think there are other issues, not least of which is that the researchers talked a lot when they were showing the children how to tap and slide (they don’t do this with the chimps because they don’t expect them to understand spoken language). Were the children given the chance to learn for themselves? Did the artificial setting alter their reactions?

But I thought it was worth sharing and as far as I know, no animals were hurt in the making of this film – though the chimps do appear to be living behind bars which is a shame.

On High-Fives

My sisters, nieces, mum and I all try to meet once a week for coffees on a Friday – mainly we manage though life does sometimes get in the way so that one or more of us is missing but we do try. This week we made it. I think it is a lovely way to spend the end of Friday afternoon, it introduces my nieces to café culture and being sociable and it means we all stay in touch – face-to-face – as opposed to the more modern methods of texting, tweeting and status updates (and not forgetting blogs of course).

            Last Friday we met and had a lovely catch-up in a well-known coffee chain (I actually have to go to an independent coffee shop prior to the meeting so that I can get my caffeine fix as said chain brews disgusting coffee). It’s lovely to be there at around 5:30 and see how busy it is, there is every age-range, nationality and gender represented in that one coffee house every Friday and it warms me to think that we are not losing the gift of good conversation, enjoyed over something that doesn’t involve alcohol.

            An elderly couple had the tables behind us and from the way they were chatting to the manager they were clearly regulars there – I felt all warm and hopeful and pictured myself at 115, still active, still mobile, still doing Sudoku and frequenting the local café bars for a coffee and a chat. It’s a nice image.

            They soon got chatting to us and playing with my youngest niece who delighted them with her appreciative giggles as they tickled her and told her how beautiful she is (it’s true). And it reminded me of how saddened I get at the way society’s belief that strangers are evil/dangerous etc. often clouds our nation’s views and actions. I can’t count on my fingers the number of times each run that someone ignores my jovial ‘good morning’ – I teach my nieces to say it to passers-by and they too are normally met by strange looks.

We should be pleasant to one another, our world is not filled with mad-men and murderers (as tabloids would have us believe) and anyway, the dangerous ones are usually the ones we know. I’m not saying we shouldn’t teach our children the possible dangers of life, or the all-too important guidelines for maintaining their own personal safety and space but please can we have some realism? The following is what happened to me several months ago, I was so upset by it at the time that I wrote it in my journal.

            A young girl, no more than three, with a mop of bouncy, curly hair sits in a trolley at Asda; waiting patiently for her mum who is not far away, browsing the yoghurts and cheeses, regularly popping something or other in the trolley. The girl watches the crowds (for they must seem like crowds to her) and her face lights up as she realises my trajectory will pass near hers. Instantly she sticks her palm out in that familiar (at least at sporting venues) ‘high-five’ gesture. I reciprocate and her pleasure is obvious, her face suffused with joy.

            Her mother approaches, for she is clearly her mother even from a distance, her face contorted in a mixture of anger and a smile – as if she hates me but cannot face a confrontation. Her daughter is still excited, tells her mother – with glee – how I met her hand and her elation is instantly dashed.

            ‘And do you think that was sensible?’ her mother questions, her voice harsh, her features pinched.

            I walk on speedily; half embarrassed, half saddened at how wrong people’s interpretation of our world can be and at the damage a fleeting moment can do.