The scientific name for the large-billed seed finch, or twa twa, is Oryzoborus crassirostris; its lesser-billed cousin, the towa towa or Oryzoborus angolensis, battles just as keenly. The local name for them is “bastard.”
“Bastard? Isn’t that a bit rude for such a pretty little thing?” I ask.
“You don’t know deese birds, mon! Dey tough as concrete nails,” insists a bird vendor in the stall next to Des’s. “Some of dem whistle, some of dem be quiet. But dey all come into de fight.”
“What do they cost you?”
“Good whistle-bird cost me plenty. You can use de silent ones to catch de calling birds, and a gambling man, he pays five, ten t’ousand for a good callin’ bird.”
He means in Guyanese currency, surely. So these ubiquitous birds cost as much as sixty dollars?
“Wha’ you talkin’ ‘bout? Ten t’ousand US, mon! Dey more valuable den a car!”
We stare at the wee bits of chirping fluff. The birds are evidently far more than mere fashion accessories — they’re high-end status symbols. It’s like Fifth Avenue, except here it’s the men who carry the Gucci bags, and the bags are alive, and they cost more.
“I’d like to see this birdsong fighting,” I venture. “When does it happen? ” “Sundays, mon!” says Junior. “But they not lookin’ for visitors.”
“No?”
