The Road Not Taken
What will tomorrow bring? I don't know. But I do know that I feel like I've been set free. There are no more anchors tying me down. Letting go of a marriage. Letting go of Sydney. Letting go of the toxic waste that is negativity. Letting go of the energy sucking individuals. Letting go of the bullshit politics. Just letting go. Today is a new day until I die. It's a bit of a gamble, isn't it? Life offers no guarantees even though we as people demand them!!! If we play everything by the rules, we set ourselves up for "success" and yet we become so well organized that life becomes this massive boring stream of days with no beginning or end. That's how I found nature. My escape.
Yesterday, I discovered a part of the island that hid the poverty. It's a contradiction of course. The place is just south of the area called Terra Boa, or the Good Earth. Our truck arrived into the streets and I could smell that "smell". Death, rot, feces. You can't escape it. I've smelled it before and it is an overwhelming stench. Massive crowds came out into the streets and surrounded our vehicle, people desperate for help. I was there to find the Cream-colored Courser. A bird that supposedly breeds on the island but I had found no evidence of it during my time on Sal in the southern area where I thought they'd be. Tourism has created new habitat for different birds and destroyed habitat for the endemics.
I went with several tourists who sat in the back of the truck and had no ability to separate themselves from the mob that came rushing at our vehicle. If you have never experienced this, it's something that can only be described as overwhelming. Hands grabbing at you from everywhere. A foul air that smells like poverty. And this incredible sadness that you can't do more. There is no personal space. I left with the driver to help the people in the back. Afterwards, without the guide explaining what happened, I had to be the counselor and explain that it was a refugee camp for people from the other islands. And let me be honest. There were people with mental health conditions here as well. It was not a safe place to bring tourists. It was quite the shock for tourists staying in the town of Santa Maria.
Santa Maria is a safe haven for the rich and wealthy. Or it has become that. But during my studies on the island, I kept asking myself where did the poverty go. Surely, it was still there. Because I remembered it well with Sydney back in 1999-2000. Well, I found it. Cleverly hidden in the scrub desert north of the capital Espargos. All I remembered was seeing a woman desperately grabbing the backpack from an English lady. She had felt so guilty that she gave her several of the contents from her backpack.
Once a teacher; always a teacher. I can't change that about myself. I realize that now. But I do it in ways that feels right to the individual. This was a new guide who came from this neighborhood to start his life on Sal. Unlike Sal, several of the islands don't have work for the people. He came from São Nicolau hoping to make a better life. As he explained, coming from nothing, you have to do what you need to do to survive. There is a great resentment between these Cape Verdean people seeking work and the migrant Senegalese also competing for work. Some might even say a hatred. The guide muttered under his breath, "I hate the Senegalese." And it is a feeling shared here on the island by many. The Senegalese have strong personalities and the Cape Verdeans have a more laid back latin flavor to them. So the people of Sal have had to really work and struggle to find work in their own country. The island is growing because the tourism is growing.
Understanding this young man, I gently nudged him with questions, etc. I have found that my Spanish is the fastest way to communicate with them. And they understand me. And they can communicate with me in their Kriolu because I can understand them. Often, they would tell me things to inform the other passengers. Then I would give them the cultural context behind what they were seeing. The guide was great. He knew his facts and added all the details. But there were several things like introductions that needed to happen. So I started the introductions with everyone. "Names please everyone and where are you from?" There was also no set up to where we were going. So as we reached every town and village, I explained their significance and taught some Kriolu phrases to the English. Although, I'm not sure they will remember:) This was the cultural context, and bridge, that they needed to make their day feel less jolting. I still feel like my work here continues after these past decades.
You can always tell a new guide from a pro. How? Time and organization. The guide wasn't on time, we skipped Buracona, which is a highlight for many, and instead of it being a half day, it turned into a full day. Oh and he didn't collect the money up front. This Portuguese lady thought she was going to get out of paying for the tour and held everyone up. So we didn't arrive until 5 PM at night. So we spoke about guiding tips back and forth. Hopefully I shared some things that I do with my own guiding that will help him out. All of it through natural conversation and not in the condescending, "This is what I'd do." The way to teach is through gentle questioning and genuine conversation. Humanity is a fascinating mess but it is none-the-less fascinating. It's also what makes birding a fun challenge.
There is a hotel for the Italians. There is a hotel for the English. There is a hotel for the Portuguese and on and on. And in between all these hotels that cater to the various European countries, the Dutch sprinkle themselves into the mix. My point? The hotel spread has entered dune habitat around the island. There is no ground water. Instead Sal is unique among the other islands in that it has 2 major desalination plants on the island. Tourism has eaten up a lot of the habitat for birds on the south end of the island. Beaches are occupied by massive hotels where the Loggerhead and Green Turtles come to lay their eggs. Because of the human traffic and stray dogs, turtle nests are often destroyed. However, there is an effort being made to protect these areas. Why? Tourists want to see these turtles. And therefore there is a layer of protection around these creatures because there are jobs created to protecting these incredible marine animals.
The Cream-colored Courser? I planned a general day tour of the island to see the Lemon Sharks, the salt mine and the blue eye. But there was an area that I had been eyeing up on the island that is not very inhabited. Like the Gilded Flickers, Purple Martins and Ferruginous Pygmy Owls around the Tucson area, I suspected these birds did not like people. Or specifically, the human traffic that comes with people in the form of cars, ATV, trucks etc. These birds need space to roam and use the sparse desert vegetation to nest. That can't happen when off road vehicles are tramping over the terrain.
My last hour, I scoured the desert terrain. There is literally just open desert dotted with Giant Milkweed. Then my eyes spotted something in the distance. The group knew I was searching for birds and they got a free birding tour as well because there is literally not that much wildlife on the island. However, when there is something, it's pretty cool. We stopped in several locations for pictures and the group was thrilled to observe several species. There were some birders in the group. One woman, whose husband is a birder, stopped to look at the Greater Hoopoe-Lark with me at the mines of Pedra Lume. Most loved the cinnamon Bar-tailed Larks.
But it was the Cream-colored Courser that excited everyone. It's upright body caught my attention right away. "How did you spot that bird??!!!" When your eyes are hungry for a new bird, you will scour every single nook and cranny. I knew what to look for and the guide did his job and stopped the truck. There were 2 in the distance. The first one I passed, I thought maybe. But on the second, I saw enough to know it wasn't a running Greater Hoopoe-Lark. This was a VERY upright bird!
On the way home, I was so happy and relieved to know that this part of the island still has several rare-to-find species that haven't been touched by humanity. As a young man, I remember biking out to this region and finding some remarkable birds on my bike. Those paths are gone now and replaced with buildings and more roads but much of it is still out of the way for people who have little purpose visiting this barren part of the island.
This trip was more than just a birding trip. It was my home for a time many decades ago. It seems like a lifetime ago. That time is over. All of it. I won't be returning back here again in this lifetime. But I did realize something during my time here. My heart belongs to the Central American and Mexican corridors. Maybe New Zealand? I am at a crossroads in my life. To be an American or be an expat. My whole life growing up I've wanted to live outside the United States. I don't recognize my own country anymore. Nor do I identify with many of the people. I've found myself making my own connections wherever I go beyond the borders.
Letting go of my past. Letting go of Cape Verde and those notions I had when I lived here. Letting go of Sydney and also to find a piece of Sydney inside my heart that says, "Go! Do it!" I write the rules of my life. My brother Sergio did it. Sydney did it. As have so many people I know. Retirement is the greatest adventure. I played by the self made created rules and now it's time to let them go. Playing it safe lead to boredom. It's time to live again. Love again. And continue the exploration of humanity, birds and the world.
Written back in June on the island of Sal, 2024.
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