You're a Hoot

I’ve grown to truly love the village life. It is quite, peaceful, and simple.  While I do my best to appreciate the day-to-day pleasures of living in the village (our kind neighbors, the village animals, the amazing sun set), after a year of living here the honeymoon period has worn off and I no longer am amazed by each and every little thing. However when something out of the ordinary does happen it without a doubt proves to be another unforgettable experience.

          

  I had just finished a really nice day at Tanka Class and was walking home form the center of the village. Up ahead on the path I saw several of the younger children all gathered around something. I could tell that they were picking this ‘something’ up and throwing it but could not tell what this ‘something’ was. As I got closer I could see that it was something living, so I called out for them to stop and put the animal down. When I approached the children they were all crouched around a small bird. I stared at the creature for several seconds before realizing what it was, a baby owl. The owl was no bigger then the size of my hand and was looking up at me with the most beautiful big, round, yellow eyes. I stared at it in awe, watching it twist it’s head in circles and bob up and down. I didn’t know what to do, the only thing I had heard about baby birds was that if they had been touched by humans, which it clearly had, that the mother would not take it back.  I clearly couldn’t leave it here with these children who were treating it like a toy. So I began asking questions: “who found it?” “Where did you find it?” “ How long have you had it?” Eventually i was able to get a the answers, however these answers didn’t prove to be to helpful, “Sahara.” “A field” “one hour.”

Feeling like I had no other option, I picked up the owl and told them we would go to my house and try to figure out what to do.  So there I was, walking home with an owl in my hand, and a train of little children behind me.  All of a sudden one of the little boys ran over to me with a grasshopper in his hands and raised it up to feed the owl.  The owl grabbed the insect and swallowed it whole. Once we arrived at my house all the kids wanted to feel the owl, so they began running around catching grasshoppers. I realized this was a perfect opportunity to collect food to last for a while. So as the kids brought back grasshoppers I asked them to put them in a small bowl. Of course as soon as they placed them in the bowl the insect would simply jump out. Learning quickly, the children began tearing the legs off the bugs so they couldn’t get away. It is so unusual for me to be around children who are so comfortable with this kind of behavior. It has been something I have been struggling with all year: throwing rocks at dogs, tossing around a baby owl, tearing the legs off grasshoppers, these are behaviors I do not often see by children in the west. Regardless, at this moment I was thankful for this desensitized behavior, because I certainly didn’t want to kill all these grasshoppers, and I needed food to feed the owl I had just adopted.

After the children dispersed I began researching all I would need to know about raising an owl.  After hours of reading different articles, my research all told me two things: either contact your nearest wildlife specialist, or return the owl to where you found it (apparently owls are not like other birds and the mother will take the baby owl even after its been touched by humans.) Seeing as there is no wildlife specialist for 100 miles, I clearly only had one option. At this point it was to late to try and return the owl so it would have to wait till the morning. I made a small bed made out of a bucket and rice pealing’s. I put the owl in the bucket and brought it  up to the balcony outside my room so the snakes would not get him.  As soon as I put the bucket down, the owl hopped up and perched on the rim of the bucket and fell asleep.  I too fell asleep, however was not asleep long. I quickly learned what it meant to be nocturnal. The owl woke me up at 11, 2, and 5 to be fed. His chirps were like little baby chicks, but  were incessant enough to wake me each time.

By the time morning came the food had run out and it was time to find more. However the only problem was that it had started raining and all the bugs were hiding. As soon as the rain stopped I went on a mission to find the youth  to try and get more bugs and figure out where this nest was. It was clear that I was not capable of raising this owl, and it’s best chance of survival was to be back with its family.  As soon as I found the youth I began asking questions and this time the answers were very different. The older children began to tell me that the bird was no found in a field, but in fact had been knocked out of it’s nest by a rock the younger kids had been throwing at it. While this was yet another story that disturbed me, it also meant that they new where the nest was. The older kids told me that they could take me to the try, but unfortunately it is to big to climb. When we arrived they pointed at the spot where the nest was, and as they had told me it was clearly to high to reach. However it was just low enough that I could life one the kids and he could place it back. So with out much discussion one of the boys picked up the owl, I picked him up, and when I brought him back down the owl was gone

All I can do now is hope that it’s mother will return and it will live to see another day.