Kangdungi and Himsooni
The hippo's words came out of nowhere, catching me off guard for a moment.
Judging by the more developed jaw and the far more massive tusks, the one talking to me had to be the dad hippo, Kangdungi.
"How did you know?"
—Teacher Chunsam told me. He said a veterinarian who can talk to animals would be coming by, so have a chat.
"Teacher... Chunsam?"
No way... How the hell does an orangutan pull that off?
Sure, Saemangeum Safari's enclosures were spacious, but aside from the baby animals in Kids World, all the enclosures for different species were strictly separated.
Before I could sort out my jumbled thoughts, Kangdungi's words kept coming.
—Really? Chunsam's herald bird said so.
A herald bird. Was that even possible?
The orangutan's saying about birds hearing daytime talk and mice hearing nighttime talk wasn't just empty words, apparently.
It was startling how he'd just barged in like this, but actually, it worked out perfectly.
No need for me to go into a long explanation about who I was.
"Since you already know, let's talk freely. The reason I came to see you is..."
—Perfect timing. Tell our keeper to slip us some special treats.
"...What?"
—Back in the day, they used to give us fruit sometimes. What's going on with the safari these days? Why is it always just grass?
So that's why he'd approached me so eagerly before I even said a word. What an absurd reason.
—Grass is the tastiest, of course. But you know how it gets boring eating the same thing every day. So, uh, what was it? Oh, watermelon! Get us some watermelon first, and for my darling here... what was it again?
—Ugh. Lettuce. How could you forget, you big lug?
—Heh heh. Sorry, darling. I got distracted by your beauty for a second.
—Oh ho ho. And there's someone right here listening—how embarrassing.
—Heh heh heh.
Watching sugar crystals practically sprinkle between them, it was clear their chemistry was off the charts. Getting them watermelon and lettuce wouldn't be hard at all.
But first, I needed to get to why I'd come.
"Hold up a sec. I don't know what Chunsam told you, but I'm not here to manage your diet. It's about your baby."
—Our baby? What are you talking about?
—Yeah, what baby do we have?
The hippo couple, who had been flirting just moments ago, flicked their round ears and tilted their heads.
"The fruit of your love. The one you gave birth to, Himsooni. Banguli."
—Ohhh. That little squirt? What's up with him?
"Why aren't you taking care of Banguli? He's your kid."
—What? Puhuhu!
—Puhuhuhu!
Orangutans, hippos...
Were all wild animals like this?
There was something in their raw laughter that made my blood boil just watching it.
—Hey, vet. I don't know where you heard this nonsense, but babies aren't our job to raise. My darling went through hell to give birth, sure, but raising them is the keepers' responsibility.
—Puhuhu. Exactly. Hubby and I both grew up under the keepers' care. That little one's in good hands with them—why make it our problem?
Was that the issue?
In small zoos with inadequate facilities, animals not raising their own young wasn't usually because they were heartless.
It was because the zoo environment wasn't suitable for rearing offspring.
Even if they gave birth, the mothers couldn't find peace or properly nurture them.
'This... Banguli's situation is way worse than I thought. If Banguli's confused about whether he's a hippo or a human because he's just a baby, these two...'
But Saemangeum Safari was different.
It was an environment where even a hippo straight from roaming African wetlands could live happily.
In the end, these hippos weren't raising Banguli because they'd lost their animal instincts.
So, I needed to awaken their parenting instincts.
I stopped pondering and carefully opened my mouth.
"Listen up. Think about the human visitors who come to see you. Most of them are families, right?"
—Yeah, usually parents with kids.
—Right. Especially the kids—they get so amazed by my hubby's majestic presence.
—Hey now, darling. What are you saying? They're obviously here for your beauty.
Good. They were aware that visitors mostly came with kids.
"Exactly. Why do you think parents bother bringing their kids? They want to share the precious time watching orangutans and hippos with them. And the reason is..."
—That's what I don't get. Why do that pointless stuff? It'd be way more comfortable just going as a couple without kids.
—Hee hee. My hubby's so sharp. I think the same. Human kids throw tantrums and make all that noise—why bother? Right, darling?
—You're so perceptive, my love. Vet, you see it too, don't you? Look at those parents' faces when they come with kids. Either frowning or forcing fake smiles. What idiots, puhuh.
They'd zeroed in perfectly on the blind spots of parenting.
It wasn't entirely wrong, honestly.
On Children's Day or holidays, at amusement parks or fairs, look at the parents pushing strollers and carrying kids on their backs—nine out of ten look like sour pickles.
"...You're right. Honestly, it'd be way easier and cheaper for couples to go without kids."
Still, I had to convince them.
Not just because hippos were endangered, but I couldn't leave Banguli denying he was even a hippo.
"But humans keep having and raising kids. Why do you think that is? Even with the focus on their peaceful lives now and the economic burdens like childcare and education costs, they do it because it lets them experience infinite love."
—Infinite...
—...love?
The hippos lifted their massive jaws and glanced at each other, then suddenly burst into roaring guffaws.
—Puhuhu. Hey, you even know what you're talking about? Chunsam said you're a total virgin who hasn't even held a girl's hand.
—Oh ho! Stop it, darling. Look at that human's ears turning red~.
"......"
This had to be the angriest I'd ever gotten over an animal.
Pretending not to hear their mocking snickers as their huge jowls shook, I pressed on with my explanation.
"I don't have biological kids, but I'm a parent too. I'm raising this adorable kid named Ssal-i. Through raising him, I've had the most precious and fulfilling moments of my life..."
—Puhuhu. Do humans these days make babies just by staring? Oh yeah, darling?
—Stop teasing. His ears are gonna fall off. Puhuhuhu.
"......"
Up to here, it was pretty much textbook stuff. Judging by the hippos flaring their nostrils, my persuasion was hitting 0% empathy.
"...Whatever. Just saying. Actually, I said that because I'm worried about you guys."
—Worried? About what? Your lonely future living alone?
—Puhuhu. Easy now~.
Wrong track—time to switch.
Persuasion wasn't my specialty anyway.
"Hippo populations have dropped sharply over the last 20 years. To the point where extinction is a real concern."
—What?!
—Th-that's ridiculous! Teacher Chunsam said there are hippos in other zoos!
Chunsam's network was no joke, once again.
"Half true. They're increasing in zoos, but not in the wild. Okay, think about it. The world's busting a gut to save hippos from extinction, but what if the parents—you guys—don't raise your baby right and it dies? How do you think Saemangeum Safari, with its motto of 'more natural than nature,' would handle that?"
—Well...
The hippos, shaking their massive jaws and side-eyeing each other, seemed clueless. I whispered earnestly into their flapping ears.
"They'd bring in another hippo?"
—Wh-what nonsense! Bring another hippo?
—Oh my god? What a horrible thing to say! We have hippos right here!
Their pupils shook wildly.
The conversation was finally opening up.
"Hmm. Not sure if Chunsam mentioned it, but I'm pretty tight with the safari director. We've grabbed meals, drinks. No baths, but you get the vibe."
—You're loaded, huh?
"Yep. Anyway, he told me that for endangered species struggling to breed, they can bring in new mates."
—What?!
—D-darling!
Humanity became lords of all because of persuasion built on empathy—not bipedalism or fire.
The fresh vigor of Africa's great wilderness now seemed to echo fully in my nostrils.
"Man, you hippos are a riot. Let's cut the crap. Look at your kin in the rivers and lakes south of the Sahara—how rough is their life? Go to the river for a drink, crocs bite you. Graze on grass, lions charge. Nap time, wild dogs swarm. And that's not all—poachers everywhere. But here at Saemangeum Safari?"
—...
—...
"Don't clam up—speak. What do you do all day? Eat, sleep. They scatter fish to exfoliate your skin, open wide for tartar removal, feed you plenty—and what do you say? 'Watermelon! Lettuce!' But ignore your baby?"
Even with my aggressive tone, their clamped jaws showed the hippo couple was starting to grasp the gravity.
"Anyway, neglect the kid, it gets sickly and dies. Then what? Safari has to bring in new mates to keep the lineage going. Obvious, right? Maybe someone's secretly hoping for that. Right, Kangdungi?"
—...Darling?
—Wh-what? I never thought that! You know you're the only one for me!!
"Your ears were twitching."
—...Darling.
—Th-this is just nerves! Don't frame me, you jerk!
Chairman Jeong Yong-gun never said that, but facts didn't matter.
A small pebble had dropped into the hippos' minds with a plop. Ripples were starting to spread.
—Hey, vet! This sounds like bullshit now. Even if we don't raise it, the keepers will handle it fine! We grew up that way! Why blame us if the kid thrives or not? It's on the keepers!
"Living off handouts made you simple-minded, huh. Forgot? This isn't a zoo—it's a safari."
My chilling smile made their ears quiver.
"Keepers might not have pushed it before, but they'll encourage natural rearing going forward. Safaris exist to let animals live as naturally as possible. If you neglect Banguli, what happens? Keeper looks away a second, Banguli drowns? That just the keeper's fault? Closest ones were Kangdungi and Himsooni—you."
—If... that happens...?
—They'd bring in other hippos that can do natural rearing... to our home?
"Probably. Might not be your home by then."
—Gasp!
—Oh god!
According to Choi Eun-seo, Kangdungi and Himsooni just watched as a baby hippo swam in deep water and drowned without helping.
But I didn't bring it up. Like Banguli, artificially reared from birth, caring for him wouldn't feel instinctive or obligatory.
Besides, their trembling ears suggested my point had landed.
Their fearful side-glances shifted back to me, and Kangdungi bellowed.
—Damn it. What the hell do you want us to do? We've been alone since birth! Just the two of us forever! We don't know how normal hippo parents act!
—Hubby's right. We don't know... don't know anything. What to do or how...
Even as I sprinkled lake water to keep their skin from drying, Himsooni let out a faint sigh, her words continuing.
—Honestly, our first baby... when that one died. It did hurt.
—...Darling. Not that story.
—No. I want to say it now.
—...
Kangdungi fell silent at Himsooni's resolute tone.
—But even then, we had no idea what to do. We thought it'd naturally know how to swim, but it flailed and... drowned in seconds... Sniff. If we raise Banguli... what if it happens again? We don't know how at all!
'...So it wasn't just laziness or annoyance.'
Himsooni's pitiful wail drew the filming crew and staff vet rushing over from afar.
"It's okay. I'll teach you."
—Sniff. How would you know? You're human, not hippo!
"Chunsam told you, right? I'm a vet. One who can talk to you guys."
I had to wrap this up before they arrived.
I patted Himsooni's pudgy jowl lightly.
"I'll help. So you can keep living happily here. With Banguli, no problems. Let's take it step by step together."
Plenty of adults have immature minds despite grown bodies.
Especially for hippos born without parents or kin to teach them—far more mental confusion.
"Sunbae. Everything okay? Himsooni was wailing like crazy."
"No big deal. Can you bring Banguli over?"
"Banguli?"
Ignorance isn't a sin, and it's never too late to learn. That's why starting takes courage.
"Yeah. Kangdungi and Himsooni want to see him."