Lin Wang, once the world's oldest Asian elephant in captivity, comes to life again through the hands of a taxidermist and a biopic recounting his journeys.
Funerals for public figures can bring out a rare solidarity among citizens, and the death of Lin Wang, an outsized character who had captured the affections of Taiwanese people for the past half-century, was greeted with three days of mourning in February 2003, during which some 180,000 people paid their respects. President Chen Shui-bian sent a wreath of flowers, and Taipei mayor Ma Ying-jeou bestowed posthumous citizenship on this famous Taipei resident. "Lin Wang was part of the collective memory of four generations of people in Taiwan," Ma said. "He'd seen us growing up, and we'd seen him growing old."
Indeed, Lin Wang was no ordinary figure. The Indian elephant experienced many of the turns of fate in the history of the Republic of China, from its life-or-death struggle against the Japanese during World War II and the exodus of Nationalist troops to Taiwan to the rise of prosperity of the Taiwanese people, many of whom stopped by the Taipei Zoo over the years to visit Lin Wang in their leisure time.
To commemorate Taiwan's favorite pachyderm, a taxidermic specimen has been created, and Taiwan's largest animation company, Wang Film Productions, is in the process of producing an animated 3D film based on the life of Lin Wang. The company is sinking NT$100 million (US$3 million) into production, and the release is scheduled for 2007. "There were many twists in Lin Wang's life, such as the sadness of departure and the happiness of reunion, that provide the stuff of a good movie," says Ku Li-hung, assistant manager of Wang Film Productions. "We hope our film will be entertaining as well as educational and convey the poignancy of his story."
Lin Wang's story is certainly an extraordinary tale of survival. At 26, the Burmese native was captured by Japanese forces fighting in the jungles of Southeast Asia during World War II. He was pressed into service as a pack animal, lugging ammunition and supplies across rivers and over mountains. Lin Wang and 12 other elephants were eventually captured from the Japanese by a Chinese Nationalist expeditionary force under the command of General Sun Li-jen. Under their new commanders, the elephants continued soldiering.
After the war, the elephant team marched with Sun's forces on a year-and-a-half journey from Burma through the Chinese cities of Kunming and Nanjing before eventually stopping at Guangzhou. Along the way, soldiers made use of leisure hours by training the elephants to do some simple tricks, such as walking forward and backward, making left and right turns, and crouching down and standing up again. The drills resembled the soldiers' own drill routines, and won for the animals the affection of their human comrades.
When General Sun was dispatched to Taiwan in 1947, he set sail with three of his elephant soldiers--two females and a male (Lin Wang). After 48 hours at sea, they landed at the port city of Kaohsiung. The exhausted creatures were soon transported to the Fengshan military camp by railway. One died shortly after, but the other two continued to perform public service by lugging supplies for railway construction. In 1951, the second female fell sick and died, leaving Lin Wang the sole survivor of the old elephant corps on Taiwan.
On October 30, 1954, Lin Wang was transferred to the Taipei Yuanshan Zoo to tie the knot with the four-year-old Ma Lan, an elephant imported from Japan. Thereafter, his birthday was celebrated at the zoo yearly on October 30. At the zoo, Lin Wang led a retired life. At times, under the command of his keeper, he would perform those little tricks he was taught in the service, but mostly he just enjoyed life with Ma Lan and paraded himself in front of visitors to the zoo.
When the site at Yuanshan became too small to accommodate the growing number of animals, a much larger facility was opened, after 13 years of planning and construction, in the Muzha district of Taipei in 1986. Moving a menagerie of wild animals through Taipei presented the zoo with an enormous challenge, and getting Lin Wang to cooperate proved particularly difficult. Two enormous containers were constructed and installed in the elephants' pen before moving day. Workers put food in the containers to lure them in, and this strategy seemed to work well as both Lin Wang and Ma Lan sauntered in and out a few times.
At dawn on moving day, the staff had everything set and sought to lure Lin Wang into his container one last time so that they could use the cool morning for the conveyance. However, just when the workers were closing the door to Lin Wang's container, he rushed out and refused to get back in, probably sensing that something strange was happening. The keeper tried to draw him in again with treats, but the elephant used his back feet to prevent the door from closing while using his trunk to fetch the food. After hours of futile attempts, the workers had no choice but to use thick ropes to drag Lin Wang into the container. The task consumed almost all of their energy and it was dusk by the time the crate with the stubborn elephant arrived at the new zoo.
During the unloading, Lin Wang got his comeuppance. A special elephant shaped phone booth had been installed nearby the elephant enclosure, and as soon as the container was opened, Lin Wang caught sight of it. He mistook the shape for Ma Lan and rushed full speed ahead, tumbling into the ditch used to keep the elephants in their enclosure. Lin Wang remained in the ditch sulking until the zookeepers took pity on him and released Ma Lan from her container. Upon seeing her, Lin Wang climbed out of the ditch, and the two settled into their new home, dubbed by the workers the "White House."
Elephants rarely live past 70, but in his 70s, Lin Wang was still quite active. He ate well and walked with a healthy gait. In 1997, to celebrate Lin Wang's 80th birthday, the Taipei Zoo constructed a new tropical-forest-like residence that resembled his native habitat. Despite the happy surroundings, Ma Lan's health began to deteriorate. In 2000, she had a foot operation, but it failed to improve her health. In late 2002, her foot got worse, and a malignant tumor was discovered. Ma Lan died shortly after, at the age of 54, leaving Lin Wang despondent.
By mid-February 2003, the keeper who had been taking care of Lin Wang detected that the old pachyderm started moving slowly and eating much less than before and soaking in his pool all day, despite the fact that he had never liked water before. A few days later, Lin Wang was found quietly lying on his side in the pool. He had died in the night at the age of 86.
One of Lin Wang's visitors in his final days was Lin Wen-lung, a taxidermist who had grown up like so many others with Taipei's favorite elephant. "When I stood outside his enclosure, Lin Wang started marching toward me and then lowered his head. He stared at me almost face-to-face for a few moments," Lin recalls. "The keeper told me that was very unusual because Lin Wang seldom came so close to a visitor. I guess at that time, he might have sensed a peculiar connection between him and me."
Upon Lin Wang's death, Lin was summoned by the zoo to turn Lin Wang into a stuffed version of his old self. Lin had been stuffing animals for more than 20 years. He had produced specimens of different sizes, ranging from mice and birds to a tiger, but he had never attempted anything as big as an elephant. "This mission was an honor, but at the same time a great challenge to me since everybody knew Lin Wang," he says. " I had to make the recreation recognizable."
Instead of using the traditional method of stuffing the animal's body with polyurethane foam that tends to collapse with time, Lin constructed a steel and wooden frame, sculpted the body from foam and coated it with acrylic. This method allowed for the elephant's giant size to be preserved and the posture to look natural. After peeling off the hide, Lin made use of salination and tanning techniques to create the exterior. These antiseptic measures would enable the specimen to last for more than 50 years, compared with the five-to-10-year lifespan of animal skins treated only with arsenic, a more common approach. Lin then sewed the thick elephant hide onto the frame and added finishing touches to restore its complexion. The whole process was extremely labor-intensive and required sophisticated skills. But for Lin, the most difficult part was not the technique, but how to capture Lin Wang's facial expressions authentically. "Lin Wang, in a sense, was everybody's pet, and his image was quite vivid. Public expectation put a lot of pressure on me," he says. "If I couldn't do this job well, my name would be ruined and my career finished, no matter how well I had performed in the past."
In fact, the contract that the Taipei Zoo signed with Lin stipulated that the completed specimen must resemble Lin Wang or the deal was off. As a result, Lin says that the elephant occupied his mind day and night--even in his dreams--and he worked 14 to 15 hours a day, together with a five-member team, to recreate the elephant that people knew so well.
After eight months of work, Lin Wang resembled his old self. An evaluation panel commissioned by the zoo, consisting of art critics, museum executives, veterinarians and zookeepers, then conducted a comprehensive review and gave Lin high marks.
Funding for this mammoth feat of taxidermy was provided by the Yulon Motor Co., which donated NT$5 million (US$156,250). "We're grateful for the boundless joy that Lin Wang gave to Taiwanese people and hope to continue it by enabling people to see him again," says Han Cheng-ping, vice president of Yulon. "We want to honor Lin Wang's strong spirit, which is similar to that of our business." Han hopes that his company's generosity will encourage more corporations to contribute to animal conservation and other public-interest activities.
Today, the Lin Wang specimen provides the centerpiece of a permanent Lin Wang exhibit at the Taipei Zoo's Education Center, which also includes relevant photos, documents, films and interactive games. Chen Pao-chung, director of the Taipei Zoo, explains that the display area is designed to teach visitors about Lin Wang's life, the making of a taxidermic specimen, the natural habitats of elephants and the threats they are faced with. The Lin Wang exhibition, Chen says, has played an important role in the zoo's transformation from an amusement park to a center for education and conservation.
Chen notes the living conditions of wild Asian elephants are worsening. Since the elephants consume a lot of food, they often come into conflict with farmers who hunt them to safeguard their crops. "Asian elephants are regarded as a keystone species upon which many other species depend," Chen says. "Their conservation can help maintain biodiversity and ecological integrity."
To aid in the conservation of Asian elephants, the Taipei Zoo cooperates with the Wildlife Fund in Thailand, sending staff members there to learn more about elephant breeding and medical care for the endangered animals. In return, the Taipei Zoo provides the Thai organization with funding to monitor the movement of wild elephants, build enclosures to prevent them from trespassing on farmland and inform local people how to handle these animals during unexpected encounters. Providing the inspiration to preserve other elephants might be the last act in the extraordinary life of Lin Wang, an elephant not forgotten.