Following Illegal Hunters Who Illegally Snare China's Protected Songbirds.
The conservationist's eyes scan over miles of dense fields, hunting for signs of life in the pre-dawn darkness.
He utters a hushed tone as the team seeks a concealed position in the grasslands. In the distance, the huge urban center of Beijing remains asleep. As we wait, the only sound is our own breath.
Suddenly, as the sky starts to lighten with the approaching day, there is the crunch of footsteps. The poachers are here.
Caught
Overhead, billions of birds, many so small that they can fit in the cup of a hand, are journeying southward for winter.
They have utilized the warmer months in northern regions, eating bugs and berries. As the year comes to a close and cold breezes bring the initial freeze of winter, they journey to southern locales to breed and eat.
The nation hosts 1500-plus bird species, accounting for 13% of the world's total – more than 800 of those are migratory birds. Several of the major migration routes they follow converge in China.
This particular field being monitored, on the fringes of the Chinese capital, is an oasis for small birds – farther in and the city skies offer scant chance to rest among towering rows of concrete.
It is equally attractive for the poachers and their "fine nets", so delicate you can almost miss them.
The trap we stumbled upon was extending over a large section of the field and held up with wooden sticks. At its center, a meadow pipit was fighting hard to escape, but the more it struggled, the more its feet got ensnared.
This was a protected songbird, a species under protection in China, and an important "indicator species" – meaning if its population is healthy, so is its ecosystem.
Hunting the Hunters
The conservationist, in his thirties, carries out this mission for free using his own savings. He has sacrificed many sleeping hours to set songbirds free, and he has spent the last 10 years convincing the police in Beijing to prioritize this issue.
"Initially, no-one cared," he says.
So he gathered a team who did care and formed a group known as the Bird Protection Unit. He held public meetings and invited the leaders of the relevant authorities. These small and persistent acts of persuasion have shown results. The police discovered that apprehending illegal hunters also led to identifying other kinds of illegal operations.
"We found our objectives became somewhat shared," Silva says, noting that implementation remains inconsistent.
His passion for avian life started in childhood. He grew up in the 1990s in a distinct era for the city.
He recalls wandering in the grasslands on the city's edges where he encountered birds, frogs and snakes. "However, beginning in the 2000s, the transformation was dramatic."
Rapid economic growth brought millions of rural workers to cities. This expansion meant grasslands were viewed as empty places to build, not conservation areas to conserve.
The transformation was alarming. The grasslands began to shrink, as did the habitats they supported.
"I made the choice back then to dedicate myself to preservation and I chose this direction," he says.
It has not been an simple journey. A major Beijing's biggest bird dealers discovered he was being investigated by Silva and retaliated.
"He gathered several of his associates who confronted me and beat me up," Silva remembers. He says he reported to the police but the perpetrators were not held accountable.
He has also lost his army of volunteers over the years. This work requires patience and night vigils. Silva says few people are prepared for the challenging and occasionally risky job.
"My life is devoted to this," he says. "I made it a project because if you want to tackle this challenge, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly. You cannot be half-hearted."
He says donations pays for some of the costs – over 100,000 yuan a year – but funding has declined because of the slowing economy.
So he has developed new ways to track the poachers.
He analyzes satellite imagery to find the trails worn away by the poachers. He charts these against the birds' flight paths and looks for areas where they may rest. The satellite images can even show lines of net traps which can catch hundreds of small birds during darkness.
"Certain prized species sell for a premium," Silva says. "In big cities like Beijing and Tianjin, those who want to own songbirds are now often affluent."
While there are environmental regulations in place, Silva reckons the penalties to deter the activity do not outweigh the financial benefits of catching and selling songbirds.
Owning a pet bird was – and for some generations in China, still is – a mark of prestige. This originates from the imperial era. Nobles and elites would build elaborate bamboo cages for their birds.
This custom that continues mainly among retired men in their 60s or 70s. Silva says some elderly citizens don't realise they are breaking the law, or understand that so many more birds were killed in a trap for them to purchase a caged bird.
"These individuals didn't even have enough to eat growing up. Now with a little money, they have adopted the practice of caging birds," he says. "The nation progressed so fast, there was little opportunity to raise awareness about ecology. Once adults' values are formed, they're really hard to change."
Disrupted
Along a riverside path in Beijing, a vendor has several small cages with chirping songbirds.
Another man stands outside a nearby market holding a bird cage shrouded in a black veil. He tells passers-by quietly that his songbird is rare, worth nearly 1900 yuan.
This is a glimpse of an traditional side of the city where informal vendors have created their own market.
The path by the river extends over several miles and on a sunny weekday morning, there were people looking at everything from old trinkets to false teeth.
We were told that protected birds could be bought in a small park. It was easy to find.
Loud music played from a speaker in a shaded area where a group of elderly ladies were performing a fan dance. Close by several men, all in their later years, had congregated with bird cages – some had two or three in their hands. Most were concealed by dark cloth.
But today there would be no transactions because the police had arrived. They were interviewing the bird owners and recording details. Defiant, one man said he was {taking his caged bird for a walk|simply exercising his