The Barefoot Ornithologists Of Mangalajodi

Humanity is woefully embattled, both internally and externally, and constantly bickering over habitat and moorings. At Mangalajodi, birds from across continents have found their no man’s land, an annual global commune of soaring beauty, guileless embrace of fragile ecology, nonstop chitter chatter and meeting the mother ‘Maa Mangala’ before flying back to their menage.

The cohort include grey-headed swamphen, black-tailed godwit, northern pintail, grey heron, glossy ibis, sanderling, about 150-160 representatives from the Caspian Sea, Lake Baikal, Aral Sea, Mongolia, Central and southeast Asia, Ladakh. A global meet without any artifice agenda. I am no birdwatcher, but Sanatan Behera, the local guide and our barefoot ornithologist, explained to us, me and my friend, when we visited last.

When we were gliding in his boat, quietly, the birds were preparing for an early supper and meditating on their food. Some had dozed off after a long day. Another day was slipping out and after a fortnight they would end their vacations at their cousins’ and fly homeward. Next winter they would again swing by in patterns, design the sky and bring in more siblings and friends to their cousins at Managalajodi — COVID or no COVID. They are beyond human frailties because they are ‘simply soulful’.

The Little Stint, a tiny beauty, almost pocket-sized, astounds in its temerity, tenacity and self-belief. Every winter it covers 12,000 km and more from the Arctic to vacation at Mangalajodi. Strength and size can mean completely different if we care to understand. They (the birds) and Sanatan are one family, bonded over decades, and they stand for each other.

Not long ago, about three decades, the avian at Mangalajodi, meant meat business and food, for the villagers. The birds were mercilessly poisoned and poached. Bullets or Furatin-laced marshland buds would mass slain loads of birds which were delicacies on the plates of people utterly callous of the visiting flying angels, who are blessings on humanity.

Birds have been the emissaries of our faith, human love and divinity. Despite cruel treatment the birds persisted, as if on a mission to bring about a change of heart in the local people. The swathes of peace, tranquil and sheer nature requit filial love. The contiguous biosphere spurs involuntary and complete dissolution in the magical paradise.

There are many bird reserves in India, but Mangalajodi is unique. As the boatman-birdwatcher oars you around the channels and by-channels of thick water mix with weed, you can hear your own breath in tandem with the little ripples of water. You are boating in the middle of a canvas.

Birds are surprised, they have many questions. Sanatan speaks on their behalf. He is their interlocutor, friend and mentor. The boatman is the go between the moody, handsome, and mercurial birds and us, the humans. Mangalajodi will certainly alter your life. It is not only sighting of birds but being there in the middle of unviolated wetland, all in one’s own solitude in marriage with the fluttering of the innocent wings, shakes one back to the reality. I and nature merge in a moment — the unison.

Sanatan and ilk, living in around 130 hamlets around Managalajodi, discovered positive life and embraced the birds in a way which almost obliterated the gruesome past and turned the villagers their caring, extended families. Sanatan is fiercely possessive, vigilantly protective and vocal advocate of Mangalajodi eco system and guards its fragility.

Mangala goddess blesses the village and the families including the migratory birds by being at both the corners of the village. Two Mangala deities and hence the Managalajodi (Managala pair). Almost providential, Sri Mahavir Pakshi Suraksha Samiti (Mahavir Bird Protection Collective) brought the birdwatcher community together and the members decided to transform their negative energy in poaching to positive energy in protecting the birds and to live with them. Alchemy happened.

Mangalajodi, part of Chilika estuarine lagoon, has gained global recognition and identity. It is declared as an Important Bird Area (IBA), as it is considered to be one of the biggest global waterfowl habitats. The wetland is visited by more than 3,50,000 birds, mostly in the winter but not completely deserted rest of the year.

The erstwhile hardcore poachers, giving up their predating ways and adopting a completely reverse vocation and altered attitude, preserving ecology and birds, is one of the most powerful behaviour change practices I have ever come across. I have given a lot of my years to behaviour change social interventions in the health, livelihoods and education sectors. But I have never experienced such a monumental change in a low income, ecosystem dependent community.

In the change process, I could sense the development of meaningful partnerships with the communities and ensuring interventions which are culturally anchored and centred on collectivism using family or social support. Collectivism has been the key. With the change in perspective, nature has smiled, opening legitimate livelihoods opportunities.

Nandakishore Bhujabal led the behaviour change process from the front and this has remodelled the lives of over 150,000 in the area. I have never met Mr Bhujbal, but his name came up during our conversation with Sanatan, again and again. Mr Bhujbal has reached out to each in the community and triggered this uncommon impact, protecting lives and the rich biodiversity. Without the change, today Mangalajodi would have been another barren swale.

The incomes are enhanced, allied small businesses have opened up in the community, the skills of the people are better, and they mingle with a cosmopolitan cohort.

Sanatan knows the names of all birds. He says confidently that he has been trained in birdwatching and can fluently rattle the names both in English and local monikers. What is more important is his attachment with each one we spotted.

Sanatan’s lack of exposure in English language has not dimmed his tremendous passion in studying birds – their behaviour, physiology, conservation and habitats. He has been involved with bird lovers and researchers in surveying, recording and reporting on bird activity. For us he was the complete Ornithologist who is a bird lover first and an expert later. He might not be titled as wildlife biologist, or ecologist, or a land manager, or a researcher, environmental educator. But he is certainly all of this and an eco-tour guide.

His limited access to technologies in bird watching and boating has not dampened his curiosity and honest interest in better understanding migration routes, reproduction rates, habitat needs and life patterns. But his household income is much below Rs 25,000 per month. During peak season he gets a little more but almost six months a year his income is hardly enough for his family. He has to oar the boat and he is ageing. His children are keen to explore other avenues.

The champion barefoot ornithologists need active support from all of us, the civil society. The whole village has champions who have stood by the cause and have given their lives to the bird preserve. We have to ensure much enhanced incomes for them. When photographers and researchers flock from different parts of the country and outside, they should pay an entry fee plus a fee for their specific purpose (e.g., research or photography or filming).

Today they can easily take pictures, paint or do anything which fetches them hefty amounts, without any investment in the place. Sanatana had oars but I could see a few fuel boats in the area. If they are used then they should be immediately banned and, in their place, lightweight, more efficient boats using ball and bearing oars should be used. They are not expensive. But, in any case, the local banks should give loans either to Sri Mahavir Pakshi Suraksha Samiti or the individual members. I assume that there are no other collectives at Mangalajodi now.

The black top road that leads to Managalajodi took our car straight to the watch tower. I was surprised. Battery rickshaws should be used and all vehicles should be stopped near the point where the road (embankment) starts to the site from the village. Sound, air pollution should be stopped at any cost. Tourists can use battery rickshaws from the vehicle parking point to the tower site and back.

The infrastructure in the place is falling apart. The watch tower is a badly constructed small elevation. There are no proper viewing blocks. There are no toilets for tourists. There are two holes in the name of toilets, which are stinking, dirty and unhygienic. The whole place is not cleaned and the tetra packs, polythene packs are strewn all around. But pictures from here go to National Geographic and Discovery. This is how we respect our own surroundings.

The collective Sri Mahavir Pakshi Suraksha Samiti needs a lot of handholding and support. The members and their families should be trained in other livelihoods activities. There are many public programmes for such groups or collectives. Their skills and capacities need improvement. We should not discourage them from their expertise of birdwatching, but their income should be fortified for the whole year. I am not sure whether their families are covered by health, accidental and other insurances.

Since Managalajodi is an exemplary turnaround story in community awareness and social change, we can help the community create a company (enterprise like a producer company) with each of them as stakeholders and the Board comprising of only the community representatives.

Our barefoot ornithologists and on-the-ground conservationists need much more than lip sympathy. We should not use them for only Facebook postings and social media “thumps ups”. By mere sightseeing one doesn’t become a birdwatcher or a lover. One has to demonstrate in action, for the community, which safekeeps the place. Thanks to Sanatan’s efforts, we are pampered and turn ‘nature lovers’ overnight and demand accolades as “naturalist” which are even more superficial than we are.

Sad birds still sing.