"Birds" of the Philippines

by Jody James

Jody James is an ornithologist and former Air Force helicopter pilot.

Bird of Iguasu Falls - photo by JoAnn Sturman

In 1978 I was transferred from southern Arizona and my detachment pilot position supporting missile operations and participating in an occasional rescue to become the leader of a special team that evaluated bird hazards to world wide military operations.  BASH, Bird Aircraft Strike Hazards, is known to all military pilots and safety officers today.  I had a couple of degrees in vertebrate ecology (zoology), and the job was a good fit with my background in aviation and safety.  I heard from a colleague years later, that my case had been used as an example where the Air Force Military Personnel Center actually tried to match people with jobs that they were academically prepared to do.  (Know of any others?)

The BASH Team visited flying installations and presented its findings to Wing and Base Commanders, so they could implement the necessary changes to reduce the hazards.  During my first six months as leader, our office received an urgent message to provide BASH assistance to Clark AFB in preparation for an upcoming “Cope Thunder” exercise that would bring flying units from all over the globe to fly various missions in the rugged terrain of the Philippines.  Budgets being tight, the BASH Team could send only two people, Bill, a Senior Airman, and me. Bill had a bachelor’s degree in biology and had been on the BASH Team for a couple of years, and I relied on his experience to make the mission a success.

This was the BASH Team’s first trip to the Philippines, so the team had no reference material on hand about the birds that we would encounter. It was also my first trip out of the continental United States, much less the tropics, and it would significantly test my knowledge about birds.  The Philippine Islands are home to nearly 600 species of birds. Luzon, where Clark AFB is located, has around 377 species. Birds have physical attributes that enable an ecologist to generalize biological needs. Without an accurate field guide, however, the team might misidentify the species and associated habitat or food requirements which ultimately may be important to their management, control, and flight safety.  

We could have requisitioned some bird books through the supply system, but it was too slow and cumbersome to meet our scheduled departure.  An interlibrary loan wouldn’t work either.  In those days before the Internet or Amazon.com (we didn’t even have a computer on our desks until the mid-1980s!), it was far more expedient to buy the books in the country or region of interest and claim them on our travel vouchers.  We could expect to find books written in English in the Philippines, so we made our flight arrangements and departed.

When we landed in Manila International Airport, we had several hours before we could catch the shuttle bus to Clark.  We decided to use local transportation to find a bookstore downtown, secure our reference materials, and return to catch the bus.  The best book on Philippine birds at that time was John du Pont’s book, Philippine Birds.  There was an early book by the noted Philippine researcher, Dr. Rabor, but the drawings were crude and the information dated and sketchy.  

Manila is an expansive, cosmopolitan city:  lots of people from many countries and islands.  There are many unique modes of transportation.  Jeepneys, extended, ornate open air jeeps and “trikes”,  motorized rickshaws, dominated the roadways.  We left the airport and took a jeepney to a bookstore, where we found Rabor’s book.  I asked the shop-owner if he knew where I could get du Pont’s book.  He called another bookstore and confirmed that they had a copy but it was a mile or two away. While I was trying to get better directions to the other store, an attractive, well-dressed woman, who had been shopping in the bookstore, interjected, “I know where that store is.  I can take you there.”  

Not wanting to be a burden, I thanked her and noted that we could probably get local transportation to get there. “Nonsense,” she said. “It is on our way home.  We would be happy to do it.” 

I looked at Bill and agreed, “Okay. It will help us make our shuttle bus to Clark.”  We left the bookstore and entered her chauffeur driven vehicle.  I noticed the chauffeur was quite burly for a Philippine man, more like Oddjob in the James Bond movie, Goldfinger.  He wore a full, dark suit and tie.  He didn’t smile or speak to us.  

I sat in the back seat with the lady, and Bill sat shotgun in the front.  She sat in the center next to me with her shopping bags between her and the window.  Enroute to the bookstore, our hostess pointed out some points of interest and mentioned she was trained as a nurse and wanted to work in the United States.  As she was talking, she continually put her hand on my thigh.  I thought this gesture might be a cultural thing, so I ignored the overt familiarity.

Then she asked me, “Why don’t you two come to my house to meet my family?”  I replied we really did not have time to buy the book and return to the airport to catch the shuttle to Clark.  Again, she insisted and reassured us her car would be at our disposal and would not cost us anything.  Not wanting to be unappreciative guests, we agreed to meet her family, but just for a few minutes.  After a short drive through a residential neighborhood, Oddjob stopped the car in front of a neat, two-story, frame house with a steep staircase.

The hostess led Bill and me up the steps into a finely appointed room with a few cozy couches and lots of pillows.  Several nicely dressed girls and young women appeared, and our hostess introduced them to us.  We greeted them.  One of the names caught my attention:  “Cherry,” who may have been a thirteen year old with brightly rouged cheeks and too much makeup for her adolescent face.  Despite my inexperience with Filipino customs, I realized we had landed in a brothel and our hostess was the madam.  I looked at Bill and he at me, as we simultaneously came to the same realization.  I thought to myself, “Oh, shit!  How did we get into this mess?” 

At that point our hostess asked us if we wanted anything.  “No!” I declared.  “We need to find our bird book and get back to the airport to catch the shuttle.”  

Then the madam said something very strange, “Would you like some drugs rubbed on your neck?”  I had never heard of such a thing.   I asked her what she meant, thinking it was another cultural misunderstanding.  She repeated the same drugs-neck phrase.  Life was going to get a lot more complicated if we delayed our departure.  What if my superiors found out about my whereabouts?  The episode wouldn’t look too good on the record.  And my wife, what would she think?  “Honey, Bill and I were buying some bird books in a book store and met this beautiful woman, who invited us to meet her family.  So, not to hurt her feelings we accepted.  How was I to know she was going to make me have sex with a thirteen year old and rub drugs on my neck?” 

Bill and I looked at each other and I said, “Let’s go!”  We pushed past the women in the room, exited through the door, and ran down the steps.  Oddjob was leaning against the car having a cigarette.  He looked quizzically at us, as if to say, “That was fast!”  

If he thought our escape in the whore house was fast, it was nothing compared to how fast we sprinted away from the brothel. We were lost in an area somewhere in Manila with no maps or recollection which direction would take us back to the airport.  Bill and I took off towards the most city noise, making as much distance as possible between us Oddjob.  After four or five blocks we arrived at a heavily traveled street which led to a bigger road and then an even bigger one full of jeepneys.  

Speaking of dumb luck, but the first thing I saw on this busy street was the bookstore with du Pont’s book.  We made a quick purchase and asked the storeowner for directions to the airport.  After a couple of jeepney transfers, we made the shuttle bus with plenty of time to spare.  Bill was quiet while I thumbed through the book on the bus ride to Clark.  Both of us felt that we had escaped from an unpredictable, possibly dangerous situation, and we had been only in the Phillipines for a few hours.  

My idealistic side toyed with the idea that the hostess actually wanted us to meet her family before she took us to the bookstore.  The opportunity to put drugs on my neck was a gracious offer to put isopropyl alcohol on my skin to help me find some relief from the tropical heat.  And, of course, the young girls looked so beautiful because they had returned from Catholic Mass.  Then my realistic side took charge and shouted in my brain, “Jeff, that was a whore house, those were not choir girls, and the lady of your dreams was a madam who wanted all your money and would have used any brain rotting drug on the planet to lure you into her web!”

Acquisition of the bird books allowed us to complete the BASH evaluation, and hopefully it was our input that prevented any bird strikes or loss of aircraft during the exercise.  I think that would have been the least of my concerns, if I had let my curiosity get the best of me and let those birds in the brothel put some drugs on my neck.

Tibetan child - photo by JoAnn Sturman