Snub-nosed monkeys enjoy 100-day celebration

It was probably the most magnificent 100-day birth celebration I have attended since arriving in Europe.

At around 11 am, about 100 distinguished guests had already gathered beside a tranquil lake in Pairi Daiza, Belgium's best-known zoo.

Among them were China's Ambassador to Belgium Fei Shengchao, diplomats from the Chinese Mission to the European Union, and Brugelette Mayor Isabelle Liegeois. Even the Shaanxi Provincial Forestry Bureau had sent Vice-Director Chen Baolin, who traveled more than 10,000 kilometers from China for the ceremony.

From among the entire Chinese community in Belgium, it was hard to imagine a grander guest list.

All of those in attendance were there for two baby golden snub-nosed monkeys that were just 100 days old — the age at which a newborn turns into a baby, and symbolizes greater strength and independence in Chinese tradition.

The two stars of the day, however, seemed blissfully unaware of their celebrity status.

One baby clung tightly to its mother Lu Lu, occasionally stretching out a tiny hand to touch leaves hanging nearby. The other hid behind another female, Juan Juan, peeking curiously at the crowd before disappearing again.

Their shared father, Liuyun, looked far less concerned about diplomacy than about keeping an eye on his unusually busy family.

It was last May that three golden snub-nosed monkeys arrived in Belgium from China's Qinling National Park. At the ages of 5, 4, and 7, respectively, they were little more than awkward young adults by golden snub-nosed monkey standards.

And that made the ambassador's joke during the ceremony all the more amusing.

"We met this naughty young boy just last year," he said with a smile. "Now, whether he likes it or not, he has entered family life with wives and children."

The audience burst into laughter and applause.

Perhaps encouraged by the joke and the reaction, Liuyun rushed out of the indoor shelter, climbed onto the suspended rope bridge, and performed what looked suspiciously like a gymnastic routine.

Behind the laughter lies one of China's most ambitious overseas wildlife conservation projects.

Golden snub-nosed monkeys are among China's rarest primates, as even the largest subspecies among them, from Qinling, has only about 26,000 individuals. All the other four subspecies number in the hundreds or thousands.

Their breeding has challenged zoologists for decades because of their complex social structure and demanding environmental requirements, which require proper temperature, humidity, and adequate places for them to climb and explore.

Even with all the conditions met, a golden snub-nosed monkey can only get pregnant every two years and can only give birth to a single baby each time.

The Pairi Daiza zoo has spent months recreating something in Belgium that is remarkably close to its home in the Qinling Mountains.

The enclosure — or more accurately, garden — is the size of a 600-square-meter villa. Streams flow through rocks and dense vegetation. Elevated walkways connect different levels of the habitat. Wooden platforms, climbing structures, and countless tree trunks encourage the monkeys to spend most of their time above the ground, exactly as they would in the wild.

Standing there, it became surprisingly easy for me to forget I was in Belgium and imagine I was somewhere in a forest deep inside China.

That is perhaps why, in December 2024, the China Wildlife Conservation Association signed a 10-year cooperation agreement with Pairi Daiza, to establish the first publicly known overseas breeding program for Qinling golden snub-nosed monkeys. Three monkeys arrived in Belgium in May 2025.

Barely 11 months later, two healthy babies were born, which says much about the dedication of both the Chinese and Belgian experts, who have cared for the baby monkeys as if they were their own.

Yet what impressed me most that day was not confined to the monkey enclosure.

Walking through the zoo after the ceremony, I noticed ducks wandering freely among visitors eating lunch. Children sat only a few meters away while the birds calmly searched for crumbs beneath picnic tables. In another enclosure, a troop of monkeys occupied a vast landscape complete with cliffs, waterfalls, and islands separated by moats. The great apes lived beneath enormous glass roofs filled with climbing towers that many human children might envy.

It was obvious that the zoo went beyond just displaying animals. The goal seemed to be to allow them to behave as naturally as possible, while encouraging people to slow down and observe them with respect.

Near the end of the naming event, the ambassador offered a reflection that stayed with me.

"We don't always need grand theories to understand the relationship between humanity and nature," Fei said. "Sometimes all we need is to walk into nature, or simply visit a zoo, and we begin to appreciate that relationship."

Soon after, he and Pairi Daiza founder Eric Domb announced the names of the two babies. They are to be known as Zhenzhen and Xile, which mean "cherish" and "joy", names that seem to carry the sincere wishes of their parents, as well as all of those who care about them.

The author is chief correspondent at China Daily EU Bureau based in Brussels.

Contact the writer at zhangzhouxiang@chinadaily.com.cn