My friend and I were headed out of town on the local bus, rushing to catch the afternoon show on the outskirts of the city. We were going to the Semenggok Wildlife Rehabilitation Center in Kuching, Malaysia to see semi-wild orangutans return to the park for their daily snack. Here at the center, a caring staff helps re-teach survival skills to orangutans that have been confiscated from private owners or who were unfortunate enough to have been orphaned in the wild. After a successful stay they are allowed to leave the safe confines of the park and venture out into the jungle on their own, always free to return if they wish. Being the intelligent animals that they are, most do find their way back and are more than welcome to the daily feasts held in their honor.

It was the chance to witness this event that had brought us here. It was our opportunity to see these remarkable creatures up close and without bars between us. I curiously wondered how this would happen and how many would come. Would just one or two shy orangutans come and eat quickly in order to retreat to the safety of the trees?

Soon the feeding time grew near and park rangers put out pound after pound of fresh fruit for the upcoming orangutan buffet. A small crowd of maybe a dozen of us all sat back and waited for the first visitor to emerge from the jungle. Very soon afterward and to everyone’s delight a mother and infant soon descended from the trees above, slowly making their way to the ground for the feast that had been prepared for them. The young one holding tightly onto his mother as she cautiously lowered the two of them down to the forest floor. Within minutes they were not alone as several other orangutans appeared from out of the jungle and silently made there way to join the original two. The majority were watchful mothers and their fiery orange colored young and none of them were the least bit intimidated by the presence of us onlookers. After leisurely finishing their hearty meal they all slowly disappeared into the jungle as quietly as they had arrived, except for a solitary orangutan who scooped up the last of the bananas and delivered it to a nearby caged friend.

We had seen this large male on our initial walk through and he behaved quite differently from all the other orangutans we had witnessed. He was defiant and made his objections to our presence quite clear by spitting in our direction as we approached his domain. He became upset if you looked him squarely in the eye, pounding his chest and pacing back and forth, stopping only to extend his middle finger in our direction. However his attitude quickly changed after his visitor arrived bringing snacks for him. After slowly eating the bananas that were passed through his cage bars he finally began to relax and we realized the amazing interaction unfolding right in front of us.

After everyone else had taken their roll of photos and left we were the only ones remaining to witness the complex social behaviors of one of our closet relatives. Through the confines of his cage he interlocked fingers with his visitor and gazed into her eyes. Our presence ceased to be a source of agitation for him and he probably forgot we were even watching. All of his focus was on his companion and her visit, which was only interrupted by the longing sighs of this large wild man of the forest. The unmistakable look of sadness in his eyes was quite a change from his earlier attitude since this was the same orangutan they minutes earlier had tried to spit on me. However, now I could not help but feel sorry for him as his heart burned to leave that cage and climb into the tree tops and away with his women. I got more from that afternoon than just some cool pictures. I also got a lesson in love from our closet relatives.