Tracking Illegal Hunters Who Illegally Snare China's Protected Singing Birds.
The activist's eyes scan over vast expanses of dense fields, hunting for signs of life in the early morning gloom.
He speaks in a muted voice as they attempt to locate a concealed position in the grasslands. In the distance, the vast metropolis of Beijing slumbers on. During the vigil, the only sound is our own breath.
Suddenly, as the sky begins to brighten before dawn, we hear footsteps. The poachers are here.
Caught
Across the heavens, countless migratory birds, some tiny enough that they can fit in the palm of your hand, are journeying southward for winter.
They have taken advantage of the warmer months in Siberia, or Mongolia, eating bugs and berries. As the year nears its end and icy winds bring the early cold of winter, they journey to southern locales to nest and feed.
China is home to 1500-plus bird species, which is about 13% of the global population – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Several of the major paths they follow converge in China.
The patch of grassland where we were, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – farther in and the urban landscape offer little opportunity to rest among clusters of concrete.
It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "fine nets", so thin you can hardly spot them.
A net we almost encountered was stretched across a large section of the field and supported with bamboo poles. In the middle, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to untangle itself, but the more it moved, the more its feet got ensnared.
This was a protected songbird, a protected bird in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its environment.
Tracking the Trappers
This activist, carries out this mission for free using his personal funds. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last decade convincing the police in Beijing to enforce the law.
"In the early days, authorities were indifferent," he remarks.
So he enlisted helpers who were concerned and formed a group known as the Beijing Migratory Bird Squad. He organized community gatherings and brought in the officials of the local police and forestry bureau. These consistent and determined acts of advocacy seem to have paid off. The police found that apprehending illegal hunters also helped in tracking down other kinds of criminal activity.
"It became clear our goals were somewhat shared," Silva says, while pointing out that implementation remains inconsistent.
His passion for avian life started in childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a much changed capital.
He remembers wandering in the fields on the city's edges where he found birds, frogs and snakes. "But starting from the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."
China's booming economy brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were considered land for construction, not sanctuaries to preserve.
The transformation was alarming. The grasslands receded, as did the habitats they supported.
"I decided back then to pursue environmental protection and I followed this course," he says.
It has not been an easy life. One of Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was under scrutiny by Silva and retaliated.
"He gathered several of his associates who surrounded me and assaulted me," Silva recalls. He says he went to the police but the perpetrators were not brought to justice.
He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires stealth and sleepless nights. Silva says not many are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.
"I do this full-time," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must give it your all. You can't do it part-time."
He says donations covers some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan annually – but funding has declined because of the economic situation.
So he has found new ways to hunt the hunters.
He studies aerial photos to find the routes worn away by the poachers. He maps those against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The aerial views can even show lines of net traps which can capture scores of small birds during darkness.
"Certain prized species command a high price," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to keep birds are now often affluent."
Although there are wildlife laws in place, Silva believes the fines to deter the activity do not outweigh the financial benefits of trapping and trading songbirds.
Owning a pet bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a status symbol. This dates back to the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build ornate bamboo cages to display their birds.
It's a tradition that continues mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens may not understand they are breaking the law, or understand that numerous birds had to die in a trap so they could buy a pet.
"This generation often lacked enough to eat in their youth. Now with some disposable income, they have adopted the practice of keeping birds in cages," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about ecology. Once adults' values are set, they're extremely difficult to change."
Apprehended
Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several tiny enclosures with tiny twittering birds.
A separate individual stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a dark cloth. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is valuable, worth nearly 1900 yuan.
This is a glimpse of an old Beijing where small unofficial traders have created their own market.
The area by the river extends over several miles and on a typical day, there were shoppers browsing everything from vintage jewellery to false teeth.
Information suggested that wild songbirds could be purchased in a nearby green space. The location was not concealed.
Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Nearby several men, all in their later years, had gathered with bird cages – some had multiple in their hands. Most were covered in dark cloth.
But today there would be no transactions because the police had appeared. They were interviewing the bird owners and recording details. Unyielding, one man claimed he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his