It seems like I have done this
my whole life, chasing birds to far flung and remote places for month on end
and to some I have been this way long as they have known me. But it has not always been this way.
If you had asked me 5 and half
years ago what I thought about parrots I would have told you how dull they
were. How they were practically a mundane, everyday, household item. When it
came to birds I would not stop in the street to watch a group of house sparrows
arguing over some discarded item of food. Neither could I find Zen in the sunrise
and sunset doings of the Jackdaws of north England. 6 months later that had all
changed.
I was 9 months away from
starting my undergraduate degree in Biology at the University of Bristol. I had
been whiling away the time as a lifeguard, all the while thinking how boring it
was and how I really should be doing something ‘Biology’ related. I tried in fine to find something along those
lines within the United Kingdom, repeatedly slamming into the wall built
especially for the young from the words “You need more experience before we
will give you any experience.” (Slights, however wrongfully, that are still not
forgotten or forgiven.) In my frustration I made one of the brashest, stupidest
and most life changing decisions of my life.
I encountered an article in a British
news paper talking about volunteering in animal refuges in Bolivia. The
following 4 words are possibly the most underestimated in terms of significance
in the whole English language:
“Fuck it, I’m going.”
6 months later, just 3 away
from beginning my degree I sat, comfortably surrounded by my ignorance and naivety
(I had never lived away from home before, neither did I speak a word of Spanish),
aboard a southbound jetliner in Miami.
Had I known what lay before me I would have been scared.
I spent the next 2 months
immersed in a culture, a habitat and a lifestyle I had previously not known
even existed. The trip opened my eyes to a world far removed from our. Where
you live today but tomorrow you honestly can’t even guess. Somewhere you are
just another part of the ecosystem, another monkey in the forest. Somewhere you
can feel your own insignificance as if it were a comforting hand placed on your
back by nature herself. It was here that I met my first parrots.
The Blue-fronted Amazon (Amazona aestiva)
I worked in animal refuges at
first. At one time I found myself managing over 150 parrots and assorted other
birds, with the occasional puma cub, monkey or bear. But it was the birds that
won my heart. Bolivia now boasts two of favourite
bird species, the Chestnut-fronted macaw and the Blue-fronted Amazon, animals
with which I have spent more time than many would deem rational. The chestnuts,
as anyone who knows me is aware, acted as a hand of fate all those years ago,
guiding me at a junction in my life that only became clear with hindsight. Bolivia
too boasts the beginnings of the most vibrant, devastatingly grand yet fragile
place on earth, the Amazon rainforest. It is a place I have longed to return to
since I first felt the patter of leathery parrot feet along my arm.
Pakai, the chestnut (Ara severa) that created biologist
And return I have. Of the 5 years 2009-2014 I have spent a full
year of my life living, working and travelling within the tropical, emerald belt
of the Americas. I have spent that time working to protect the birds that
provided company to a lonely 18 year old so many lifetimes ago. I have learned
much along the way; of myself, humanity, conservation biology as a science and,
of course of the birds themselves. All the time working in the hope of one day returning
to Bolivia, where my determination for conservation was forged, and here I
stand.
It has been a long journey,
both literally (42 hours from London to Trinidad, Beni, Bolivia) and
figuratively. I shall get no further today either. It is Sunday (when writing)
and the taxis have stopped. It is moments like this where you question your
motives. Why have you left friends and family behind at innumerable cost to maroon
yourself in some strange city? For the sake of some bird? No-one cares if it is the second rarest
parrot in the neo-tropics. It’s not going to thank you, and what the hell do
you think you’ll accomplish in 10 weeks anyway?
I sigh and make my way to a
hotel.
I walk in the door to a courtyard
full of trees. Looking down at me are 3 toucans, quite unafraid and energetic. Their
antics return the smile taken by sleep deprivation and homesickness to my face.
There is a kindly, elderly lady in a wheelchair and with the aid of a young
spiritedly helper she offers me a room. It is perfect, just what I need a bed, TV,
bathroom with shower and toucan within touching distance, and I settle in.
One thing I have learned in
these 5 years is that life, fate or whatever has funny way of guiding you, or providing
encouragement when you need, or maybe look for it. When I drew back the
curtains of that hotel room maybe I was looking for it, a reminder as to why I
had come here but I certainly did not expect to find it, especially in the
urban backdrop of Trinidad, Beni’s regional capital. But there it, or rather
they were. Two tiny sentinels on an opposing roof. Ara severa, the same species that started me on this path. Their
eyes are drawn to my window by the motion of the curtain but they do not fly,
merely watch with a calm that relaxes even my travel-frayed nerves. I nod my head and to my surprise the one on
the left bobs in return. I pause transfixed on them and nod again, this time
the one on the right bobs. I smile.
Two tiny sentinels
It is nothing, but to a tired mind thousands of miles from home, it was a “Welcome back” not soon to be forgotten.
