Sonia The Dancing Bear

Sonia

The sound of bagpipes rippling through the quiet afternoon is not what one expects to hear in Pakistan — the afternoon call to prayer perhaps, but bagpipes? The unusual sound is always accompanied by an unusual, but much sadder sight – that of a dancing bear. For some reason unknown to me, the owners of dancing bears always play the bagpipes, and whilst I have heard them being played at a distance, one afternoon a little while ago I heard them louder than normal, and looking over the balcony realised they were right outside the door. The security guards normally don’t let them through into the residential areas where I live, but this time the man with his bear, his little brother and another guy with a monkey made it through.

Because I have worked with WSPA back in Australia, I was preparing myself for something quite dreadful, but as far as bears in captiviy goes, this one looked OK. Her nose was not all torn up like you so often see in dancing bears, though the ring through her tender nose was present. Her name was Sonia (which is kind of like darling, or sweetheart) and she was three years old. Amazingly the bear owner’s little brother proudly showed me how he could put his neck in Sonia’s mouth – though with her front incisors removed, she couldn’t do much if she wanted to. I was also glad to see that she still had all her claws, as sometimes they are ripped out. We got some fruit for her from the house which she ate, and the owner told us that he feeds her on fruit and milk – which is something of a luxury in Pakistan. I wouldn’t let him get her to dance (which he thought was odd) but just took some pictures.

Sonia and her owner

I wanted to tell him about the Pakistan Bioresource Research Centre, who work with WSPA on bear issues in Pakistan (particulalry with bear baiting, which they have managed to almost irradicate through a lot of hard work in the NWFP) but I don’t have the Urdu for it. The PBRC have a sanctuary where they provide homes with WSPA financial support for rescued bears as well as alternative livlihoods for owners. The sanctuary is called Kund Park and I so want to go and visit, but it is too dangerous nowadays for going into that area as a foreigner. It’s always really hard for me to reconcile how I feel when I see these things, because this guy was really sweet, and was obviously really fond of Sonia and

Sitting Up

gentle with her. He asked if we had any old shoes or jackets that we didn’t want because he and his little brother only had the sandals and shawl they were wearing, and that’s not much against a Pakistani winter. In the end my heart went out to both the man and the bear, and the circumstances which brought them together so. After they had gone I couldn’t help but feel strange in myself that I had asked for the bear’s name, but hadn’t asked for the man’s name.

The little brother putting his neck in Sonia's mouth

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