‘What’s up with all these monkeys’: Djungelskog the orangutan comforted Punch – but can the Ikea toy help me? | Japan
Standing in line at Ikea’s click on and acquire service to choose up a big plush orangutan, a wave of fatigue washes over me.
Not solely as a result of I’ve been in transit for nearly 24 hours after a sequence of flight delays, and that is my final cease earlier than collapsing in a heap on my front room ground, but additionally for the motive I, and so many others, have made this journey.
It’s to safe the toy that folks on the web consider has introduced consolation to an abandoned monkey named Punch at a Japanese zoo, who has gone viral for causes largely unclear to me.
It feels somewhat like Moo Deng 2.0, but sadder, as a result of this child monkey has not been embraced by his friends.
If not for the plush Ikea toy he had been given by zookeepers, which he grips on to love a life raft, he could be alone and unloved, his days spent avoiding being dragged and chased by older Japanese macaques inside his enclosure.
There are completely different stuffed Ikea toys all named “Djungelskog”. I’m right here to see if the plush orangutan Punch is so connected to will carry me the security and safety that it appears to have introduced him.
The smooth toy has gone viral in an identical solution to its proprietor. According to eBay Australia, listings of Djungelskog elevated by 650% between January and February of this 12 months, and it has been promoting at costs between $33 and a whopping $175.
A spokesperson for Ikea Australia stated there had been a greater than 200% enhance in gross sales of Djungelskog in the previous week, with greater than 990 purchased throughout Australian shops and on-line.
“As global attention continues to build around Punch’s remarkable story, our iconic orangutan soft toy is now experiencing unprecedented demand,” they stated. “Fans should get in fast as it is selling quickly.”
So unprecedented is the demand that once I arrive at the entrance desk after dashing from Sydney airport to gather my order, I discover Djungelskog has already offered out.
I’m telling it will likely be again in inventory tomorrow. I go away Ikea dissatisfied, empty-handed and very drained.
The subsequent morning, I come again early, and a form Ikea worker brings a Djungelskog to my automobile.
“Everyone has bought one,” she tells me excitedly. “We sold out yesterday and had to call all these stores… I was like, ‘what’s up with all these monkeys?’ and then I saw the videos [of Punch] and I’m like, ‘I need one’.”
Laughing as if I am not extremely aware of these facts, I clutch my Djungelskog and buckle them into my car. Already, I feel a sense of profound peace wash over me. Perhaps it is something to do with their hauntingly large, vacant eyes.
After letting my car off at home, I wrap Djungelskog around my arms and together we commute to work. I am quietly muttering to the orangutan to help them get a sense of their surroundings.
“This is where I work!” I inform them. “We’re hopping into the lift!”
The orangutan is extremely soft and is about the size of a real baby. I find myself not wanting to let go. My colleagues gush and ask me what I’m going to call them. “It’s like meeting a celebrity!” one says.
For the rest of the morning, Djungelskog sits beside my computer, staring at nothing.
It is all extremely cute, and yet I am struck by intense sadness when I watch footage of real-life Punch and his own Djungelskog.
It makes me consider to podcast about Keiko, the orca that starred in Free Willy, whose life was akin to a Shakespearean tragedy.
Keiko was raised at a sea park in Mexico in a pen way too small for him. After shooting to fame, a massive campaign was undertaken to “free” him back into the wild to be with his own kind.
But for his whole life, people had been his companions. Efforts to integrate him into whale pods largely failed, and he died of acute pneumonia in the ocean at just 27, remaining dependent on human care until his death.
I don’t know why this monkey was abandoned by his mother, or what conditions are like where he is displayed at Ichikawa City Zoo (although reviews point to small enclosures, and Japanese animal welfare laws are often criticized as being inefficient).
But there is a definite tinge of anthropomorphism to our obsession with Punch on social media that reminds me of the tragedy of Keiko.
Seeing the monkey playing with a cute toy, we see something human and childlike that makes us think of ourselves. But this is a wild animal, and its Djungelskog is not real.
When I get dwelling this night, I’ll embrace my canine, whose pleasure to see me once I obtained dwelling from Ikea was real – one thing Djungelskog, as smooth and cute as it’s, may by no means grant me.
