Sumatran Tiger

The Sumatran tiger (Panthera tigris sumatrae) is the smallest of the remaining five tiger subspecies. It has lived exclusively, for over a million years, in the once extensive moist tropical jungles of the island of Sumatra, Indonesia. Their population in the wild is now heavily fragmented and is estimated to range between 400 and 500 individuals. Groups of between a few and several dozen tigers can be found principally in and around Sumatra's national parks.

The Sumatran tiger represents a uniquely hopeful opportunity for the survival of an individual subspecies of tiger in the wild. Specifically, the animal is isolated geographically to the island of Sumatra in Indonesia. This is important for many reasons. First, the animal has been genetically isolated. This offers felid biologists the opportunity to study the effects of such genetic isolation on a particular subspecies, unlike other surviving subspecies, which until the beginning of the last century, could roam among and between the realms of neighboring subspecies. Wild Sumatran tigers have survived within the isolated and somewhat continuous political environment of the Island of Sumatra. This has afforded researchers, such as The Sumatran Tiger Project team, an opportunity to study these animals' genetic status in their natural habitat over an extended period of time. As a result, important first-hand field data has been generated which is relevant to all the surviving tiger subspecies. Sumatran tigers are especially well represented in zoos around the world, most of which participate in sophisticated global conservation breeding programs. More than 270 Sumatran tigers are now documented in formal studbooks and are involved in captive breeding programs aimed at preserving their genetic uniqueness. This captive population is occasionally supplemented by wild Sumatran tigers, which are captured when they come into conflict with their surrounding human populations, or are rescued from situations that preclude them from living in the wild. Thanks to the presence of a one-of-a-kind research facility at Taman Safari on the island of Java, these tigers and their extremely rare genes can be preserved instead of being exterminated like most other problem tigers. Through an important scientific, community and political collaboration, these tigers have been spared so that their precious genes may bolster breeding programs for the Sumatran subspecies. Unfortunately, the political stability that has benefited Sumatran tiger research has been interrupted recently by the violent demise of the Suharto regime. Foreign nationals conducting tiger-related research in Indonesia were forced to flee for the sake of their personal safety. The Indonesian researchers left behind faced tremendous obstacles in perpetuating their delicate work, even to the point where many of the tigers involved in the conservation breeding program at Taman Safari could not be properly fed. In a happy turn of events, the civil unrest associated with the destabilization of the Indonesian political situation has been largely settled. Negotiations are underway to establish a new framework for the conservation efforts and scientific research that has been conducted by The Sumatran Tiger project.

A Haunted House

Virginia Woolf

Whatever hour you woke there was a door shutting. From room to room they went, hand in hand, lifting here, opening there, making sure--a ghostly couple.

"Here we left it," she said. And he added, "Oh, but here tool" "It's upstairs," she murmured. "And in the garden," he whispered. "Quietly," they said, "or we shall wake them."

But it wasn't that you woke us. Oh, no. "They're looking for it; they're drawing the curtain," one might say, and so read on a page or two. "Now they've found it,' one would be certain, stopping the pencil on the margin. And then, tired of reading, one might rise and see for oneself, the house all empty, the doors standing open, only the wood pigeons bubbling with content and the hum of the threshing machine sounding from the farm. "What did I come in here for? What did I want to find?" My hands were empty. "Perhaps its upstairs then?" The apples were in the loft. And so down again, the garden still as ever, only the book had slipped into the grass.

But they had found it in the drawing room. Not that one could ever see them. The windowpanes reflected apples, reflected roses; all the leaves were green in the glass. If they moved in the drawing room, the apple only turned its yellow side. Yet, the moment after, if the door was opened, spread about the floor, hung upon the walls, pendant from the ceiling--what? My hands were empty. The shadow of a thrush crossed the carpet; from the deepest wells of silence the wood pigeon drew its bubble of sound. "Safe, safe, safe" the pulse of the house beat softly. "The treasure buried; the room . . ." the pulse stopped short. Oh, was that the buried treasure?

A moment later the light had faded. Out in the garden then? But the trees spun darkness for a wandering beam of sun. So fine, so rare, coolly sunk beneath the surface the beam I sought always burned behind the glass. Death was the glass; death was between us, coming to the woman first, hundreds of years ago, leaving the house, sealing all the windows; the rooms were darkened. He left it, left her, went North, went East, saw the stars turned in the Southern sky; sought the house, found it dropped beneath the Downs. "Safe, safe, safe," the pulse of the house beat gladly. 'The Treasure yours."

The wind roars up the avenue. Trees stoop and bend this way and that. Moonbeams splash and spill wildly in the rain. But the beam of the lamp falls straight from the window. The candle burns stiff and still. Wandering through the house, opening the windows, whispering not to wake us, the ghostly couple seek their joy.

"Here we slept," she says. And he adds, "Kisses without number." "Waking in the morning--" "Silver between the trees--" "Upstairs--" 'In the garden--" "When summer came--" 'In winter snowtime--" "The doors go shutting far in the distance, gently knocking like the pulse of a heart.

Nearer they come, cease at the doorway. The wind falls, the rain slides silver down the glass. Our eyes darken, we hear no steps beside us; we see no lady spread her ghostly cloak. His hands shield the lantern. "Look," he breathes. "Sound asleep. Love upon their lips."

Stooping, holding their silver lamp above us, long they look and deeply. Long they pause. The wind drives straightly; the flame stoops slightly. Wild beams of moonlight cross both floor and wall, and, meeting, stain the faces bent; the faces pondering; the faces that search the sleepers and seek their hidden joy.

"Safe, safe, safe," the heart of the house beats proudly. "Long years--" he sighs. "Again you found me." "Here," she murmurs, "sleeping; in the garden reading; laughing, rolling apples in the loft. Here we left our treasure--" Stooping, their light lifts the lids upon my eyes. "Safe! safe! safe!" the pulse of the house beats wildly. Waking, I cry "Oh, is this your buried treasure? The light in the heart."

S.W.A.D

Strength

About the strength I have more advantage because I have great responsibility because I can't leave my job and leave my problem before it done. But my family tell that I have leader qualities, my family said that because when my father do his job as a soldier on Bogor, I'm the oldest child who always make decision for anything in my house and always protect my family when my father not at home 

Weakness

About the weakness until now I'm never brave to women and when see sad I can't look at her. But my family said i have the big ego and headstrong because I never want to lowe 

Ability

About the ability my ability are on sport, games, and driving  

DREAMS

About the dream I always dream about I wanna be a soldier, i wanna make my family proud to me, I wanna make my family happy, I wanna bring my family to Mekkah and I always dream I wanna build home for my parents and care with them when them old and always protect them for dangerous until I die and I always wish I never forget with my parents