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MANUFACTURERS, logistics industry players and Spring Singapore are teaming up to prepare the industry for future challenges as they strengthen Singapore's supply chain management and transshipment hub capabilities. 'Singapore as a thriving transshipment hub will position us as an important global supply chain control tower. This will attract manufacturing and logistics companies to set up operations here. It is therefore imperative to continuously improve our supply chain capabilities to maintain our lead,' said Spring industry development group director Victor Tay at the signing of two Memoranda of Understanding (MOU) yesterday. The first MOU between the Singapore Manufacturers' Federation (SMa) and The Logistics Institute - Asia Pacific (TLI-AP) aims to identify, develop and promote the adoption of supply chain best practices among local manufacturers. SMa and TLI-AP will launch a competitive study for the manufacturing industry which will first form a high level task force to examine the external environments for threats and opportunities for Singapore, followed by the recommendation of some strategic programmes that will build on existing strengths within the manufacturing industry to spur the industry up the value chain. In the second MOU between TLI-AP, Singapore Logistics Association (SLA) and Spring, the partners will embark on a competitiveness study assessing Singapore's challenges and unique propositions as a transshipment hub. The industry-wide study will be conducted to uncover opportunities to strengthen Singapore's status as a transshipment hub against regional players in air and sea freight. Leveraging on Spring's LEAD Programme, SMa and SLA will gain insights from the competitive study to develop an industry roadmap with strategic projects that can be implemented for the entire industry. This could be either in terms of exploiting of new technologies and infrastructure or upgrading manpower capabilities and managerial competence. The outcome of both studies will also foster deeper understanding of industry trends and requirements so as to develop industry specific strategies.
Copyright © 2007 Singapore Press Holdings Ltd. All rights reserved. |
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| Orangutans at play in the Gunung Leuser national park |
As I stepped down the embankment to the wooden boat that would take us up river, Mr Mistar, our guide, made me pause. “She disappeared,” he said in an ominous tone. I looked up inquiringly, waiting to hear more. “A woman washing clothes. The crocodile ate her.”
With that, we pushed off. I knew the trip to pursue wild orangutans in Sumatra would be tough. Wading thigh-high in swamp was expected, as was the risk of strange diseases. I hadn’t wagered on man-eating reptiles but nothing was going to stop me now. Many years back, I was thrilled to encounter feral gorillas in Rwanda – one even touched my shoulder. And so I jumped when my brother-in-law, an expert on orangutans, offered to arrange access to Asia’s only great ape. I was conscious that, at most, only 6,600 orangutans remain in Sumatra. Scientists warn that this close human cousin might disappear in a decade or two as a result of the destruction of its habitat for palm oil plantations.
The photographer and I travelled for two hours up river to our destination, a research station called Suaq Balimbing in the Kluet swamp, where the animals live unmolested. As we sailed past the pristine forest of gigantic trees, Ellen Meulman, a Dutch researcher, identified hornbills and the rare Storm’s stork. We saw kingfishers while indigenous fishermen paddled by in dugout canoes, their wicker baskets filled with river oysters. Mindful of Mr Mistar’s cautionary tale, I recoiled when something reptilian slithered into the water. Thankfully, it was just a monitor lizard.
Shortly thereafter a shout went out: “Oranghutan”, the local word for “person of the forest”. Everyone looked up. Sure enough, something hairy perched in a Neesia tree. The boatman stopped the motor and we watched the animal nonchalantly munch on the husky fruit.
Thrilled at such an early sighting, we resumed the voyage only to come upon an awful scene. Flames crackled in a clearing where palm seedlings awaited planting. “This was dense vegetation a few months ago,” Meulman said, shocked. “It takes 70,000 years to grow a primary forest.”
Soon we arrived at the camp, which consisted of two wooden cabins and a dozen researchers. A quick dip in the river refreshed us until the photographer emerged with blood streaming from his side. “Leech!” Mr Mistar exclaimed. Over a dinner of rice and fresh catfish, the trackers discussed the various endangered creatures that lived in these parts – sun bears, tigers, clouded leopards.
“Don’t forget the reticulated python,” Mr Mistar added. He held up a dinner plate. “One was this thick. It crushed and ate a man whole.” Meulman changed the subject to orangutans. They only live in Borneo and Sumatra, use tools to eat and fashion umbrellas out of leaves. That, I thought, would be worth seeing.
The next morning we set forth at first light, with leg guards to protect us from leeches. “Wear long sleeves,” Mr Mistar advised. “They fall from trees.” We plunged into the peat swamp, clinging to vines to stay upright as our legs sank deep into the muck. “You’re lucky it’s the dry season,” said Meulman, as the mud reached my hips.
The orangutans had moved deep into the forest to seek fruit and it was slow-going in pursuit. Every now and then the trackers would point to a big nest 30m above. Orangutans are the only great apes that sleep in trees, to avoid feline predators below, and they use nests only once before moving on. These all appeared to be discarded beds.
Six hours and just as many nests later, we still hadn’t spotted an ape and the afternoon heat felt like a steam bath. We turned back for camp.
Days later, eager to get a close look at the apes, we headed for the orangutan sanctuary in Gunung Leuser national park. Eventually we reached Bukit Lawang, a village on the banks of the rushing Bohorok River. We dropped our bags off at the Eco-Lodge run by the local conservation group YEL. The cabins with private baths seemed luxurious after sleeping on the floor at Suaq. With an approving look at the bar serving chilled beer, we headed out for a three-hour hike in the rainforest.
The path began through a rubber plantation before winding steeply uphill. Silence was broken by the whine of a distant chainsaw and the guide’s explanations about the local plants. “Liana vine: heals the liver. Suli stimulates lactation. Pasak bumi cures malaria. Rubber tree – good for family planning!”
Suddenly, we saw a flash of copper fur, then two, 15 metres above. A mother and child hung by their feet like furry laundry. The baby made a smacking noise with its lips to signal fear, and the mum pulled him towards her with one deft hand. They swung from branch to branch.
We stood transfixed until the long call of a male reminded us that others awaited observation at the sanctuary. We headed towards the feeding station, where we were guaranteed a closer encounter. The spot comprised a wooden platform, surrounded by primates from Australia. A sound of crashing through the brush announced the arrival of a 4ft-high orangutan with a tiny baby clinging on like a backpack. The mother pushed past the humans, grabbed a bunch of bananas and stuffed them into her mouth. Surely we should leave these wondrous animals alone, I thought. The mother seemed to ponder the same thing. She trained her intelligent eyes upon us and I imagined her thinking, “What went wrong with evolution?” We stared at each other at a metre’s distance until she disappeared into the thicket.
On the river path back to the lodge, we encountered another pair of orangutans that had commandeered a boat. They playfully swung from its ropes as the owner seethed with frustration. Looking for a new challenge, the apes moved on to tease sunbathers. The male orangutan put on someone’s T-shirt. His lady friend, meanwhile, imitated a woman tanning on a rock.
After a while, they tired of the fun and sauntered back into the forest. I hoped that they would hide there for ever, far from the destructive influence of humans.
Judith Matloff is the author of ‘Home Girl’ (Random House)



Where
postal services once delivered handsome profits to their state owners,
now they often bring problems. In recent years, many governments have
tried to have it both ways: they want an incumbent that will preserve a
universal delivery service at a price electorates will accept, but they
also want the benefits of competition. 
That
is a phenomenon some of the region’s leaders now seem to have grasped
is unsustainable as populations swell and they look to a future when
oil runs out. The need to diversify economies and develop private
sectors has become a common theme.
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