In 1904 the Louisiana Purchase Exposition was host to a huge number of innovations, wonders and thrills. Some of the new products unveiled at the show included peanut butter (rediscovered in the late nineteenth-century after originally being invented by Incans), iced tea, the waffle ice-cream cone, the hot dog, the hamburger, and fairy floss (cotton candy). Unfortunately the Louisiana Purchase Exposition is not remembered solely for these contributions to the American culture (and quite possibly the current obesity epidemic), as it was also the venue for a frighteningly common sight throughout the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries - the human zoo.

As western influences spread into the farthest corners of the globe, so too did the desire to prove that the ‘White man’ was the most superior form of the human species. In the 1870s there were human zoos all over Europe and in New York. These zoos exhibited to the fascinated public the newly discovered ‘breeds’ of human-beings from places such as the Philippines, Samoa, Lapland, Papua New Guinea, South America, and in some cases the United States itself (the public were fascinated by the Native American Indians). In 1878 and 1889, the Parisian World’s Fair had a ‘Negro Village’ which held four hundred people in zoo-like conditions for 28 million paying spectators to gawk at. The twentieth century continued the trend - exhibitions in 1906, 1907, 1922 and 1931 displayed humans held in cages, often in enforced nudity. In 1906, the Bronx Zoo in New York City placed people from Papua New Guinea (from the Pygmy tribe) on display in the Primates section in enclosures next to apes and chimpanzees.

In 2007 the Adelaide Zoo in South Australia ran a Human Zoo exhibition using volunteers who would be put into enclosures during the day and allowed out at night time. Far from having the original intent of the human zoos, the Adelaide Zoo exhibition was a psychological experiment and a process of social education for the masses who filed past the humans’ enclosure. The public were asked to give donations that would be put towards a new enclosure for the apes, and the experiment was by most accounts a resounding success.

As we discover more about our links to our primate relatives and we begin to understand their level of intelligence and perceptions, you have to wonder if we are submitting these fine creatures to the same injustice which was imposed on hundreds of humans not so long ago.  With extinction an increasing problem and the failure to successfuly breed in captivity a constant concern, should we start thinking of our primate friends as something more than zoo enclosures to visit on a sunny Sunday afternoon?

When we moved to Brisbane twelve years ago, one of the first things we were told by residents was to keep an eye out for something known as the ‘Gympie Stinger’ if we were ever in a rainforest or heavily wooded area.  Thinking this was one of those jokes common to gently-mocking Australians (I’m sure tourists to Australia are familiar with drop-bears*), we were skeptical of the horrible claims made about this ‘Gympie Stinger’.  Some people said the plant could cause pain similar to an axe chopping into the effected body part.

Unfortunately we quickly realised this warning was not light-hearted.  ‘Gympie Stingers’, or Dendrocnide moroides, are a tropical plant native to north east Australia and Indonesia.  In some areas the tree is known as the ‘Gympie Gympie’, ‘Stinger tree’ or ‘Moonlighter’ (apparently it is luminescent in moonlight); and many parks carry notices warning of the effects these plants can have if touched.  The tree’s leaves are covered with fine silica hairs which are laced with a potent neurotoxin.  Upon brushing up against the leaves - even lightly - the hairs attach themselves to the skin and pump the dangerous chemical into the body.  The effects of the neurotoxin are almost immediate - a stabbing, stinging pain in the effected area radiates into other nearby body parts.  A red rash also springs up, quickly spreading into a swollen, inflamed mass of puffy skin.  Experts claim that the stabbing pain can last for weeks, sometimes months.  Sufferers claim it can last for years.  The neurotoxins are potent enough to kill horses, dogs, and other small animals, and it is believed that it has also lead to the death of at least one human.

There is no real cure for the sting.  Anecdotal evidence suggests that warm wax used for hair removal or a sticky plaster or band-aid can be applied to the affected area and ripped off to remove the plant fibres.  Claims that juice from the Cunjevoi plant leaves act as an antidote are unsubstantiated, in fact some sufferers say that this old wives’ tale is completely false.  One report mentions that the pain was so intense for one sufferer that the ultimate cure was death - the military officer in question shot himself to be rid of the pain, whilst another asked to be tied down to his bed for the duration of his suffering.  Even age has proven to be ineffective in destroying the poison - museum collections in excess of thirty years old have been known to sting those handling them.

The funniest, but undoubtedly most painful story I’ve ever heard concerning the Gympie Stinger is about some poor sufferer who unknowingly used the leaf as a piece of bush-toilet-paper.  This may be an Australian urban myth, but in this country stranger things have happened.  Next time you’re caught out in the bush without an enviro-dunny or port-a-loo in sight, spare a thought for the poor bloke who, in the same situation, decided to reach for one of the most potent stinging species in the world to use as his loo paper.

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* Drop-bears are a fictional creation which Australians use to scare tourists.  Depending on who you talk to, drop-bears are described as frightening creatures which wait until their prey are directly beneath their tree and then they ‘drop’.  What happens after the ‘drop’ is always left hanging by Australians, leaving some tourists in a state of fear, continuously looking over their shoulders expecting to be attacked or jumped on.

I’ve been reading a fascinating account lately of five of Queen Victoria’s grand daughters, entitled ‘Born to Rule’ by Julia Gelardi. Gelardi analyzes the lives (and similarities) of Victoria Eugenie of Battenburg (later Queen of Spain), Sophia of Prussia (later Queen of Greece), Maud of Wales (later Queen of Norway), Alix of Hesse (later Empress Alexandra Fyodorovna of Russia), and Marie of Edinburgh (later Queen of Romania). Although I disagree with the way that Gelardi has segmented the accounts (rather than following one Queen’s life in it’s entirety, she jumps all over the place, backtracking and foreshadowing and making it hard to keep track of the general story), the lives of the women alone are interesting enough to warrant picking up the book to read, so if you’re interested in the history of the monarchy ‘Born to Rule’ is recommended.

One of the most diverting issues which frequently pops up throughout the account is haemophilia. Queen Victoria, of course, was one of the most famous historical figures to carry the haemophilia disease (although she showed no signs of it herself, a common trait of female sufferers), and her extended family lived in fear that they too would fall prey to the illness or pass it on to their children. Queen Victoria’s son Leopold had the disease, as did (unknowingly) many of Queen Victoria’s daughters, who in turn passed it on to their children. In all, seven of Queen Victoria’s grandchildren exhibited signs of or passed on haemophilia, and seven of her great-grandchildren (not including the daughters of Empress Alexandra of Russia who were killed before they had children and thus it cannot be determined if they themselves had the disease).

According to wikipedia, 1 in every 25,000 male births have haemophilia - quite a large number when you consider the world population of a few billion. There is no cure for the disease either, other than to be pumped full of clotting products which your body will eventually develop an intolerance for. Such clotting products were involved in a contamination scandal in the 1970s and 1980s, which resulted in haemophiliacs all over the world becoming contaminated with HIV. As if they didn’t have enough problems already, HIV-infected haemophiliacs then had to deal with yet another debilitating illness.

Although Julia Gelardi’s book is titled ‘Born to Rule’, the frightening reality of haemophilia has made me wonder whether it should have instead been titled ‘Born to Die’. Far from welcoming new heirs to the respective infected royal families, the royal parents and their court would hold their collective breath to see if the dreaded ‘Royal Disease’ had been passed on. What a change from the glorious celebrations of times past when a royal baby was born!