F A B M A G A Z IN E / M A Y -J U N E 2 0 0 4 - fabrica

Uncle Bill
We came to know Uncle Bill in 1992. He was a former CIA agent and after his retirement had bought
himself a desolate piece of land near the Burmese border. The area had already been deforested
and so he found only barren grass and red patches of soil on his land. In just a few months he built
himself a two-story wooden house, his only guidance being a “DIY” publication in many volumes.
Simultaneously he began to plant his 35 acres of land with teak and other types of trees that had
been growing densely there just a few years previously. He also founded a gibbon sanctuary, and
sheltered gibbons who had lost their families and natural habitats. Apes which had been shot at,
or left to vegetate chained up in backyards.
So when we got to know Uncle Bill in 1992, ‘Highland Farm’ already had a surreal atmosphere. You
could hear the apes’ cackling from far away. It was an island of green in the midst of this barren
land. A world of variety among monocultures. This impression was reinforced when I visited him again
in 1997 and 1999. Giant teak trees, green thicket, but also coffee, fruit and vegetables. Several
enclosures with gibbons, lemurs, macaques, an old bear, dogs, cats, turkeys.
Then, contact was broken off. Only in 2002 did I hear about Uncle Bill again. My father rang me
with a voice full of tears.
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Uncle Bill
Conoscemmo Uncle Bill nel 1992. Era un ex agente della CIA e, dopo essere andato in
pensione, si era comprato un pezzo di terra brulla vicino al confine con la Birmania. La zona era
già stata disboscata e così, sul suo terreno, trovò solo erba secca e chiazze di terra rossa. Nel
giro di qualche mese si era costruito una casa di legno a due piani, seguendo semplicemente le
istruzioni di una guida in più volumi al “Fai-da-te”. Contemporaneamente aveva cominciato a piantare
nei suoi 35 acri di terra teak e altri tipi d’alberi, che fino a qualche anno prima crescevano fitti
in quei luoghi. Fondò anche il santuario delle scimmie, e dava rifugio ai gibboni che
avevano perso sia la famiglia che il loro habitat naturale. Scimmie con ferite d’arma da fuoco,
o lasciate a vegetare incatenate in un cortile.
Così quando conoscemmo Uncle Bill, nel 1992, a ‘Highland Farm’, regnava già un’atmosfera surreale.
Si sentivano gli schiamazzi delle scimmie da lontano e il posto era un’isola di verde in mezzo a una
landa desolata. Un mondo diverso in mezzo a mondi tutti uguali. Anche nelle mie visite seguenti ebbi
la stessa impressione, nel 1997 e 1999. Giganteschi alberi di teak, un boschetto verde, e piante
di caffè e alberi da frutta e verdure. Vari recinti con gibboni, lemuri, macachi e vecchi orsi.
Cani, gatti, tacchini.
Poi, i rapporti s’interruppero. Fu solo nel 2002 che ebbi di nuovo notizie di Uncle Bill.
Mi telefonò mio padre con la voce spezzata dalle lacrime.
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06 / 07