When Monkeys Take Over

In the center of Lopburi’s old town, a truck came to a stop at a traffic light. Its flatbed was filled with crates of fruit for the market. In the seconds the truck sat there, a monkey spotted the produce, wove through the traffic, leapt onto the truck, and held up a juicy dragon fruit. Suddenly, dozens more monkeys joined the fun.

By the time the light turned green, the fruit was gone.

Lopburi, Thailand, is a city under siege. Crab-eating macaques, a Southeast Asian species of monkey with piercing eyes and curious natures, have spilled out of the temples where they were once revered and taken over the heart of the old town.

Their growing population—at least 8,400, with most concentrated within a few city blocks—has decimated parts of the local economy. Roaming troops of macaques have forced dozens of businesses—including a music school, gold shop, cellphone store, and movie theater—to close in recent years.

In the center of Lopburi’s old town, a truck came to a stop at a traffic light. Its flatbed was filled with crates of fruit for the market. In the seconds the truck sat there, a monkey spotted the produce. It wove through the traffic, leapt onto the truck, and held up a juicy dragon fruit. Out of nowhere, dozens more monkeys joined the fun.

By the time the light turned green, the fruit was gone.

Lopburi, Thailand, is a city overrun by crab-eating macaques. These monkeys, which have piercing eyes and curious natures, are native to Southeast Asia. They’ve spilled out of the temples where they were once revered and taken over the heart of the old town.

There are at least 8,400 of them in the area, with most concentrated within a few city blocks. Their growing population has destroyed parts of the local economy. Roaming troops of macaques have forced dozens of businesses to close in recent years. The shuttered businesses include a music school, gold shop, cellphone store, and movie theater.

The coronavirus pandemic has added to the chaos. Lopburi was once the capital of a Siamese kingdom, and it’s still home to much ancient architecture. The monkeys attracted droves of tourists as well as Buddhist faithful, who believe feeding the animals is a good deed. Their favorite offerings included coconut yogurt and strawberry soda. Now the visitors are gone, and the macaques don’t understand where that source of food went. And they’re hungry.

“It has never been this bad,” says Yupa Srisanguan, who owns a hardware store across the street from the ruins of a 13th-century Hindu temple. “We’re not against the monkeys, but it’s difficult when people are afraid of being bitten when they come to our store.”

The coronavirus pandemic has added to the madness. Lopburi was once the capital of a Siamese kingdom, and it’s still home to much ancient architecture. The monkeys attracted a lot of tourists. They also attracted Buddhist faithful, who believe feeding the animals is a good deed. Their favorite offerings included coconut yogurt and strawberry soda. Now the visitors are gone, and the macaques don’t understand where that source of food went. And they’re hungry.

“It has never been this bad,” says Yupa Srisanguan, who owns a hardware store across the street from the ruins of a 13th-century Hindu temple. “We’re not against the monkeys, but it’s difficult when people are afraid of being bitten when they come to our store.”

Yupa put large stuffed crocodiles and tigers in her store facing the street; the plush toys were meant to scare away the monkeys. It worked for a few months, but the macaques soon figured out that they weren’t real, she says.

Yupa, 70, says when she was a child, there were fewer monkeys, and they were bigger and healthier with shiny, thick fur. They stayed within the temples and the ruins of the ancient Khmer civilization that the oldest part of the city is built around.

Yupa put large stuffed crocodiles and tigers in her store facing the street. The plush toys were meant to scare away the monkeys. It worked for a few months, but the macaques soon figured out that they weren’t real, she says.

Yupa, 70, says when she was a child, there were fewer monkeys, and they were bigger and healthier with shiny, thick fur. They stayed within the temples and the ruins of the ancient Khmer civilization that the oldest part of the city is built around.

But in a Buddhist-majority culture in which killing some of the monkeys would disturb spiritual sensibilities, local officials and residents have few options to fend off the gangs of macaques. Local wildlife officials have begun sterilizing the monkeys en masse to control their numbers. About 500 animals underwent surgery over the summer, but capturing the monkeys for the operations is a major undertaking, Narongporn says.

With the coronavirus dissuading many tourists and Buddhist pilgrims from visiting Lopburi, local residents have taken to feeding the monkeys themselves. Every day, an old female monkey comes to the Muang Thong Hotel, waiting politely for her meal to be served, says Itiphat Tansitikulphati, the hotel’s owner. Banana cake is her favorite, but plain fruit will do too.

“We can’t let them starve,” Itiphat explains.

But in a Buddhist-majority culture, killing some of the monkeys would disturb spiritual sensibilities. That’s why local officials and residents have few options to fend off the gangs of macaques. Local wildlife officials have begun sterilizing the monkeys to control their numbers. About 500 animals underwent surgery over the summer. Still, capturing the monkeys for the operations is a major undertaking, Narongporn says.

The coronavirus is keeping many tourists and Buddhist pilgrims from visiting Lopburi. As a result, local residents have taken to feeding the monkeys themselves. Every day, an old female monkey comes to the Muang Thong Hotel. She waits there politely for her meal to be served, says Itiphat Tansitikulphati, the hotel’s owner. Banana cake is her favorite, but plain fruit will do too.

“We can’t let them starve,” Itiphat explains.

Nearby, Patiphan Tantiwong runs a general store on the main street of Lopburi. He has given in to the macaques. A plump male sits on bags of dog food, sipping a yogurt drink. A group of youngsters swarm a counter, waiting for handouts of cookies. There are monkeys among the piles of batteries and monkeys among the light bulbs.

“The monkeys were here before us,” Patiphan says, as a young macaque tugs on his trousers demanding a treat. “We have to adapt to them, not the other way around.”

Nearby, Patiphan Tantiwong runs a general store on the main street of Lopburi. He has given in to the macaques.

A plump male sits on bags of dog food, sipping a yogurt drink. A group of youngsters swarm a counter, waiting for handouts of cookies. There are monkeys among the piles of batteries and monkeys among the light bulbs.

“The monkeys were here before us,” Patiphan says, as a young macaque tugs on his trousers demanding a treat. “We have to adapt to them, not the other way around.”

Hannah Beech covers Southeast Asia for The New York Times.

Hannah Beech covers Southeast Asia for The New York Times.