"Celebrity sells" is just as much of a truism at zoos as it is at movie theaters. In order to draw crowds and swell coffers, zoos typically give giant pandas, polar bears, tigers, gorillas, and other celebrity creatures the starring roles and cast the lowly, more common critters in minor parts. The approach may be lucrative, but Ron Kagan, director of the Detroit Zoological Institute, believes it gives a skewed view of the animal kingdom. "The real story is not in the big cuddlies— it's in the creepy crawlies," Kagan says. "We have a responsibility to market what's important to nature."
Creepy crawlies are the marquee attraction at the Detroit Zoo's brand new National Amphibian Conservation Center, a $6.1 million, 12,000-square-foot facility that highlights the critical ecological role played by frogs and their cousins— toads, newts, salamanders, and the little-known wormlike caecilians. Amphibians live both on land and in water and are exquisitely sensitive to changes in their habitats. As such they are living barometers of the health of the environment and an early warning system of potential threats to humans. Scientists have noted an alarming drop in amphibian numbers, but no one knows exactly why. Among the theories: chemical pollution, parasitic infections, and increased ultraviolet radiation through ozone holes in the atmosphere.
Located on an island wetland, the amphibian center is housed in a pavilion graced with a sculptured frog trio squirting water at a mechanical fly. Visitors step inside to find a spongy floor in an entryway filled with cool, moist air. Croaks, buzzes, and ribbits emanate from a succession of galleries featuring an astonishing array of amphibians, including Puerto Rican crested toads, South American burrowing caecilians, and Japanese giant salamanders that can weigh 88 pounds and reach four feet in length. A glassed-in pond allows visitors to glimpse amphibian life above and below the waterline of a Michigan wetland, while an ersatz cave thrills children with dripping stalactites and real salamanders. Penetrating farther, visitors enter an immersion gallery that mimics a Peruvian Amazon rain forest, complete with bromeliads, dracaena, tropical figs, and strawberry guavas, and free— roaming smokey jungle frogs, marine toads, ameiva lizards, swallow tanagers, centipedes, millipedes, and giant cockroaches. "Docents tell you to watch your step as you enter the gallery because things literally run across the path in front of you," laughs Kevin Zippel, the center's curator. An occasional drizzle, mist, lightning, and thunder burst add to the experience. "We're competing with television and video games," acknowledges Zippel.
All along the way, exhibits offer engaging instruction. To illustrate the wonders of metamorphosis, a breeding tank features clusters of see-through bullfrog eggs with unhatched tadpoles inside as well as free-swimming tadpoles and mature animals. Other exhibits attest to amphibians' significance in scientific research (they may be a source of potent new antibiotics) and popular culture (the Chinese see a "toad in the moon," the French cook up frogs' legs, and Americans adore Kermit). By the time visitors leave the center, any doubts about amphibians' place on the planet— or in zoos— should have vanished.
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