When Monkeys Mate and Humans Create

November 3rd, 2024

Shoushan, Kaohsiung, Taiwan

Today I witnessed two firsts in my observations of monkeys: a sneeze and a mating ritual. These moments occurred during my expedition up Shoushan mountain, located on the outskirts of Kaohsiung. The local monkeys, with their bright red faces and hindquarters, showed remarkable similarities to humans—a reminder of our shared evolutionary history.

A sign on the trail offered important information: "Please beware of monkeys. They only have the intelligence of three-year-old humans..." It explained their increasingly aggressive behavior, linked to past feeding by hikers. While the sign advised avoiding eye contact and maintaining indifference during encounters, my instincts led me to establish dominance through loud footsteps and drumming on my water bottle. Despite their limited intelligence, their physical capabilities—sharp claws and strong teeth—warranted my defensive aggression.

The botanical elements of the journey, particularly the banyan trees, provided a striking contrast against the threatening monkeys. Their complex network of roots and branches demonstrated nature's capacity for cooperation. Individual trees grew together, sharing resources without competition—a natural system that highlights the limitations of human society's economic structures.

Upon reaching the summit at 2PM, my shirt damp with perspiration, I discovered a welcoming outpost. The pavilion offered unlimited barley tea in large containers and filtered water, all without charge. The Taiwanese attendant guarding the shack displayed gracious hospitality, accompanying each served cup with a respectful bow. From this elevation, I observed a remarkable contrast: a sprawl of Kaohsiung’s urban architecture on one side, the vast and homogenous ocean on the other.

I made a conscious decision to forgo my headphones today, and this choice proved transformative. While I deeply value my headphones as a portal to knowledge—philosophy lectures, scientific discoveries, conversations with friends, and music that moves my soul—I've realized that constant consumption diminishes their power. By creating contrast, by sometimes choosing silence, these technological experiences become more meaningful. The six hours of my hike offered a rare opportunity to disconnect, allowing nature's symphony to fill my consciousness: monkey calls, bird songs, and cricket chirping. This natural soundscape facilitated walking meditation, enabling me to observe my thoughts with detachment and clarity. In this state, I came to understand that I am not my thoughts but rather their observer, just as I am an observer of all life.

The day concluded with a visit to an art exhibition featuring works from the Tate Modern collection. While the showcase included notable pieces by David Hockney and Andy Warhol, the collection of nude studies nearly moved me to tears. Earlier, I had witnessed monkeys mating on the mountain—a purely mechanical act, efficient and emotionless. Now, standing before these paintings of human intimacy, I observed something profoundly different. These works captured the full complexity of human sexuality: the confusion and shame intertwined with euphoria, the spiritual connection alongside physical desire, the delicate balance of trust and respect, the raw vulnerability of love. The contrast was striking: nature's straightforward biological imperative transformed by human consciousness into something layered with meaning and emotion.

As I stood transfixed before these paintings, my response transcended physical attraction, delving into deep contemplation of my own relationship with intimacy. This, I realized, represents the true power of art—its capacity to serve as a mirror, reflecting our inner experiences rather than merely depicting external reality. An artist might spend months perfecting a canvas’ every brushstroke, yet the viewer often moves beyond these technical elements to connect with the work's deeper meaning, finding personal truth within the composition’s gestural essence. 

The day's journey from mountain to museum revealed a profound truth about human nature. On Shoushan, I observed our primal origins—in the monkeys' behaviors, in my own instinctual responses, in the basic biological drives we share with our evolutionary cousins. Yet in the museum, I witnessed how we've transformed these basic elements of existence into something transcendent. Through art, through consciousness, through emotional complexity, we elevate our natural experiences into something uniquely human. We remain part of nature, but we've developed the capacity to reflect on it, to find meaning in it, and to transform it into something beautiful. How fortunate I feel to have experienced both sides of this human story in a single day.

Love,

Etai