Learning to Speak Baboon

After my first week, when I begin to sense that Rita, albeit grudgingly, has taken a liking to me, I make a proposal: I'll knock on her door every night after supper; we'll have a glass of wine, and then we'll discuss whatever subject I have chosen for the evening's agenda. Agreed?

"Oh, Michael," Rita begins wearily. "All right, if we must, agreed."

"If you had to say what you have learned most from the baboons, what would it be?" I ask that first night.

It's a question Rita has no hesitancy in answering. "I learned how people tick," she responds. "I learned why people behave the way they do."

"But you told me just yesterday," I remind her, "that, after having spent time with chimpanzees, you realized you could never work with them, because they were just like humans."

"Exactly," Rita replies, "because chimpanzees can be deceitful, just like humans, whereas baboons haven't learned that yet. So what you learn from the baboons is the truth about yourself. Chimpanzees have already learned to find beautiful little excuses for their behavior.

"If you take parallels from the goings-on in a baboon troop to what goes on in a human troop," she continues, "it's exactly the same, except that we are such a deceitful bloody species. And you know why? Because we have invented language. We happily say one thing and mean exactly the opposite {lcub}hellip{rcub} You always know where you stand with [baboons]. And you can take it or leave it."

"So, you think the baboons intuitively pick up what's going on with you?" I ask, cautiously sipping my wine.

"Absolutely."

"I think it's something chemical," I venture, "since we humans often have a similar kind of intuition about what's going on with others as well."

"So, there you go!" Rita immediately jumps on the opening I've handed her. "We humans have it, too. And then you get an old bat like me who speaks her mind, and what they say is, 'God, she's just a crazy old bat,' or, 'God, your honesty is very refreshing.' "

"That's a euphemism: refreshing," I say, completing her point. "It means you're a bitch."