Penguin Snack Time at Kobe Animal Kingdom
It was a rainy, humid day when I took the train to Port Island in Kobe, Japan; home to hotels, hospitals, an IKEA, and a unique zoo known as Kobe Animal Kingdom. Although there was no line to get in, the crowd was apparent as soon as you walked through the doors. Everyone seemed to have the same idea: here was a nice, indoor place to spend a rainy day.
The building was like a maze, the winding pathways lined with people. Even with a map I got lost several times, distracted by lemurs clinging to a branch overhead or vibrantly colored birds strolling across my path. But I was looking for birds of a different sort, of course.
Aqua Valley is one of the few sections of the zoo that sits outside. Luckily it had stopped raining as I made my way to the penguins. A small colony of African Penguins stood casually on a rocky ledge with little regard for the weather. Not far from their enclosure was a sign written in both Japanese and English. “Penguin Snack. 15:30.” It was only 2pm. I was second in line. Although we had quite a while to wait, I didn’t regret lining up early, as soon the people behind stretched around the corner. After a while a zookeeper in a large safari-type hat came out to speak to us. I assume she announced the rules — I could only catch a word here or there. (Japanese is not my strong suit.) Eventually she handed out lanyards to each of us, the badge hanging from them advising us to return to that spot at 3:30.
With time to kill, I visited the gift shop. On the surface, all zoo or aquarium gift shops seem the same, but if you look carefully you can find some unique offerings. While there weren’t many penguin things at this gift shop, they did have a unique collection of bells with a bright pink penguin painted on the front, among other animals. Other uncommon penguin offerings included hand carved wooden figurines. I bought a fuzzy penguin hat that was wholly unsuited for the weather and wore it with pride for the rest of the day.
Around 3:20 I made my way back to the penguin enclosure. I was the first there, but soon other people its lanyards started milling about. We watched as the safari hatted employee brought out a wooden podium and a cooler. It began to rain. People squeezed under umbrellas, while those without ran for cover. The penguins were unperturbed.
And then the rain stopped. The employee made an announcement in Japanese. I stepped forward and received a plastic bucket holding three long, silvery fish and a pair of tongs. The penguins rushed toward me as I stepped up onto a wooden stool in front of the enclosure. As I dropped the first fish over the glass, a penguin leaped up to grab it in his beak. The second fish I dropped caused a squabble. The penguins were moving around so much it was hard to tell who had already gotten a fish. I dropped the last fish towards eager mouths. And just like that, it was over. The penguins lingered by me for a moment but then drifted off, seeking patrons with full buckets.
I’ve fed penguins several times before, but I never grow tired of it. It’s a chance to interact with my favorite animal, to be that much closer to them, to see them from a new vantage point. Have you ever seen the inside of a penguin’s mouth up close? Have you ever seen a penguin snatching at fish inches from your hand?
Zoos and aquariums can be controversial, especially those who allow close contact. I must admit to feeling uncomfortable when I see crowds of people clustered around a “free range” zoo animal, or inconsiderate people rapping on the glass enclosure. But there is no doubt that being close to animals ignites a passion that simply viewing a documentary or looking at photographs can’t match. And if these people who have their passions ignited go on to save a species, I’m all for it.