A:- "Yes!   First, they line the birds in a row. Then, they make them fly to the finishing line!
B:-  "No-o-o  lah, how do the birds know where the finishing line is?"
A:-     "Maybe they make them run to the finishing line!
B:-      'Nonsense, they display the birds in the cages and judge them by their ability to sing, their shape and their colour’.
A:-     'Oh!  shape & colour  --  not speed kah? Then, I am sure you can decorate the birds a little?   Like the dog competition, they trim the fur nicely"!
B:-      "S-u-r-e-l-y---c-a-n---l-a-h. You can file their nails, re-shape their eyes, bend their beaks, dye their feathers, With today's technology, I’m sure you can even transplant the feathers. Who would know? After all, everybody plays foul these days".  
A:-     "Ya lah, maybe you can transplant a hornbill's beak onto a duck's head, with the pikok's tail on its backside and call it a Hornpeaduck.
B;-      "What's that you say?'
A:-     "Hornpeaduck lah. You see, you have jijija, liukor, pakminkai, Paktaupor, all sound so cute. A Hornpeaduck sounds nice".

Yes, it was certainly not nice to have missed the Kuala Selangor bird race. While they tried to raise some fund to support the Milky Stork programme, this bird race would have guaranteed the amateurs two busy days of bird spotting.

The rules were simple. Participants, grouped in threes, just went round a designated area to spot and record as many birds as they could. For every bird spotted, a Japanese company would pay about ten U.S. dollars to help conserve birds here.

The weather was sunny, the atmosphere, humid.

Men wore safari pants with six pockets which served little purpose. On their heads were expensive golfers’ caps. Their feet wore world-renowned brands of trekking shoes: too good even for the most treacherous terrain in Afghanistan. They were spick and span.

Portable mosquito-coil containers hung around their waists, were profusely emitting smoke to choke the mosquitoes to eternity.

Upbeat girls carried multi-colour umbrellas that easily caused the seniors to frown in hopelessness.    With downsized 'T' shirts, they revealed their navels which sank into the extra pound; some titillating, some  'yek'.

Lim Phaik Imm led a group of green horns from Perak. Ill-equipped to protect themselves from attack by Anopheles and Culex, they had to resort to manual ways of discouraging their landing. And among participants whose spotting gear were second to none, high sounding names like Leica, Nikon, Swarovski, and Cannon were seen,.

Reversibly, some were equipped with Russian military hardware good for tracking down the enemy!   There was also the cheap Chinese gear which was boastfully claimed to have been cleverly bargained down to fifty bucks!

Mingling among visitors who paid five dollars to witness the race, the battle began.

It was WAR !

Teams dashed into the bushes only to be met by swarms of Anopheles. Swinging their hands wildly to interrupt their landing, they were unperturbed by the incessant attack. Some hurriedly attempted to overtake another in order to be ahead - as if there would be a sure find in front. Some would sneak beside another upon seeing them training their gear at a find. “Do you know what bird that is?”  they tried to extract an answer as if they already knew. ‘Face saving’ tactic was frequently used to confirm a doubt. A good try really!

Crossing other teams, there would be such offer of; “Hay, you give us some names, and we’ll give you some. Fair exchange, okay?”

The display of cunning intelligence was naked, but friendly.

They trotted on and on. 

Emerging from the bushes into the open, they heave a sigh of relief. Sweat streaming down their faces, leaving a trail of destruction to their just reinforced make-up and soiling their neatly ironed Camel wear. By now, the men smelt like oxen and the girls smelt like cows. Helped by an occasional breeze, the odour was carried into the nostril of others nearby.  

The day wore on. The air was still. The sun was merciless and fair to all. Extracting salt and water from all who dared defy it. Draining ounces after ounces of fluid, a desiccative effect set in. They tried to fit themselves into every possible gap among the bushes that could block them from the unbearable heat. Some found themselves too drained out to trot on. And in a pavilion they threw themselves down and drifted away snorting and snoring. Snores the like of frogs exchanging love calls, they were loud and clear from yards away.   There was this peace and tranquility in the midst of such battle-cry of;
"There's one there".
"What bird is that”?
"Donno” !
The answer was as convenient as the question.
  
As the sun began to set, an undeclared truce took over only to battle again the next day.   By two the next day, it was time to call the battle off. Glenda the referee, emerged from the office in a dress which made her look like a badly skinned whale, signaled the end of the 'war'.   As the results were announced, most winners were casual. Perak took the first, second, and fourth prizes.

It was not such a big deal really. It was a fun day for the participants. And in a tiny way they had contributed to the conservation of the poor, haggard looking Milky Stork whose existence needed much help to maintain.

The pleasure went to Perak.

After all the fuss, this battle turned out to be a 'bird spotting competition'.