Have you met Bonobos or Blue Balled Monkeys?

I’ve met all three of primates: bonobos, baboons, and the blue-balled vervet monkeys. But that’s not the whole list. I’ve also had the chance to observe all members of the great ape family—Hominidae: humans, bonobos, chimpanzees, gorillas, and orangutans. How many have you encountered?

Photo: Galeeb Kachra, 2010

Bonabos: Not Just About the Sex

“Bonobos are the most empathetic and socially tolerant primates, which challenges our assumptions about aggression as a natural human trait.” -- Frans de Waal (primatologist).

“If there is a lesson to be learned from bonobos, it’s that peace and empathy are just as natural as war and violence.” -- Vanessa Woods (author of Bonobo Handshake).

Bonobos share over 98% of our DNA. More importantly, they share our behaviors: empathy, cooperation, and non-violent conflict resolution. They also happen to have a reputation for… frequent sex. Here's a detailed look: Scientific American – Bonobo Sex and Society.

Bonobos are found only in the Congo Basin Rainforest. I met them at the Lola Ya Bonobo sanctuary outside Kinshasa, DRC (visit here). Even a decade later, I remember two things: the constant sex (a social function, apparently, not just reproduction), and the disorienting feeling of standing behind a chain-link fence, wondering who was watching whom.

That second moment stuck with me. The fence stretched endlessly. I stood on one side. They stood on the other. Were they inside the enclosure—or were we?  A couple of third-party images capture the same dynamic (a) and (b). Tell me what you think if you could picture yourself there.

For the record, I used to call them “porabos” as a joke. I’m officially retiring that term. I WITAWOPS’d myself.

Chimps: Playful or Petty? Maybe Just Human

“Chimpanzees, more than any other living creature, bring us face to face with ourselves.” -- Jane Goodall (primatologist)

“How smart does a chimpanzee have to be before killing him constitutes murder?” -- Carl Sagan (astronomer)

My clearest chimp memory? A stone-skipping contest at the Sweetwaters Chimpanzee Sanctuary in Kenya, part of the Ol Pejeta Conservancy.

I skipped a rock across the river—showing off for the kids. Then came another splash. A chimp had thrown one back. He didn’t hit me. I didn’t hit him. But the message was clear: we were in a moment of mutual recognition.

I’ve written before about meeting Sudan, the last male Northern White Rhino, at the same conservancy (that post here). But somehow, that chimp, skipping stones like a brother or rival, made our shared 98% DNA feel real.

Photo: Galeeb Kachra, 2005

Gorillas: Who’s Visiting Who?

I did not realize I would have the same question 5 years later when visiting Mountain Gorillas in Rwanda.

“The more you learn about the dignity of the gorilla, the more you want to avoid people.” -- Dian Fossey (gorilla conservationist)

“There is more meaning and mutual understanding in exchanging a glance with a gorilla than with any other animal I know.” -- David Attenborough (naturalist)

I spent an hour with a gorilla family in Rwanda’s Volcanoes National Park in 2010. Back then, the permit cost $500; it’s $1,500 today. Only one group of eight humans is allowed to visit each family per day.

You hike for at least an hour. You find them. You have the privilege of hanging out with them for an hour, observing their silverbacks, females, and kids from 7-10 meters (23-30 feet away). Then you say goodbye and replay the entire hour in your mind as you hike back down the mountain.

 

 

Photos: Galeeb Kachra, 2010

Over that hour, I kept wondering: were we visiting them, or were they watching us? Did our multicolored clothes, fidgety cameras, and nervous whispers provide them with morning entertainment? Who’s the subject? Who’s the observer? I flashed back to the same question I had when meeting the bonobos. 

The Orangutan Flyby

The only orangutans I’ve seen were at the Smithsonian’s National Zoo in D.C., swinging overhead on their famous “O-Line,” a system of cables that lets them traverse above visitors. (See it here) 

They’re semi-free, above the crowds. It's a strange but beautiful form of an orangutan transit agency. 

This post is called Bonobos, Baboons, and Blue-Balled Monkeys, so I owe you a few stories about my personal encounters with the two remarkable primates.

Baboons: The Tough Crowd

Baboons don’t mess around. They’ll surround a car without hesitation. I’ve found myself in more than one silent, wide-eyed staring contest with a baboon—thankfully, always from behind a securely closed window. Their eyes are sharp, probing, and thoughtful; perhaps like mine, just a little bit judgmental.

Despite their rough demeanor, baboons are deeply family-oriented. You often spot one carrying a baby—sometimes on its back, sometimes cradled underneath—moving with both pride and protectiveness. It’s a moment you want to photograph… but from a distance. Because baboons, like us, have a temper. And when they get agitated, they don’t hold back. Best to appreciate their parental devotion without testing their tolerance.

Vervet Monkeys: Blue Balls and Bold Moves

Now to the infamous blue-balled vervet monkey. These guys are cheeky in every sense of the word. You’ll see them all over Mombasa’s beach hotels—bold, opportunistic, and clearly smarter than most tourists. 

They work in pairs. One distracts you while the other goes straight for your food. I once learned this the hard way during a tea break by the pool. I set down my tea and cake on the table, bent to plug in my laptop, then sat down… and the cake had vanished. For a second, I thought I’d dropped it—until I saw the little thief, just a few yards away, nibbling the edge of my cake with zero shame. When our eyes met, he flashed a grin and bolted off.

But my most significant vervet encounter came when I was far too young to remember it myself. I was an infant, left out in the warm late-afternoon sun, dozing in a stroller while my mother and grandmother sat nearby catching up on the day. Out of nowhere, our housekeeper started screaming. My mother looked up to see a vervet attempting to pull me out of the stroller.

Was it a kidnapping attempt? A misguided rescue mission? Or just curiosity mistaken for motherhood?

We’ll never know. But the screams and flailing arms scared the monkey off, and I was safely scooped up into my mother’s own arms.

Why Should You Care?

Open AI ChatGPT, 5/28/25

All of us members of the Hominidae family are not that different; we all exhibit similar “animal” behaviors. Spending time watching them forces us to question define “civilized”, “wild”, and whether fences, cables, and trekking permits really separate us.

So if you ever find yourself face-to-face with a bonobo, a chimp, or a gorilla, don’t just think: how smart are they? 

Ask yourself: how different are we all?