TANJUNG BUNGAH, Malaysia — When Yap Jo Leen was tracking dusky langurs in the forests of Penang for her master’s degree in 2016, she watched a langur they called Towkay Soh — Hokkien for “lady boss” — get hit by a car while trying to cross a busy coastal road. Dazed, the langur managed to get back on its feet and retreat into a tree while Yap and her colleagues blocked traffic. As Towkay Soh recuperated over the next few days, the langur group’s empathy for each other was on full display, Yap says. “Female individuals, they would approach her and groom her and even try to make her feel better,” Yap says. “I always believe that the primates, humans and monkeys, we all share a similarity, which is connection.” Two dusky langurs called “Kim” (left) and “Sunny” (right) named by the Langur Project Penang at a playground near a residential area in the Tanjung Bungah area of George Town on Malaysia’s Penang Island. For Malaysia’s endangered dusky langurs, recognizable by the characteristic white “eye masks” that stand out against their black fur, survival increasingly depends on manmade crossings across urban landscapes and the work of “citizen scientists”. Image by Mohd Rasfan / AFP. Other langurs weren’t so lucky. From 2016 to 2018, Yap recorded eight langur roadkill deaths in the same area. So, in 2019, Yap and her collaborators built an artificial canopy bridge over the road, made from old fire hoses. Since then, they’ve recorded zero langur roadkill…This article was originally published on Mongabay