15 Of The Best Camouflaged Animals In The World My Chicken-Lady Friend of Maui

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My Chicken-Lady Friend of Maui

In my community on the island of Maui, there is a lady known as Mrs. Adiye. He is my good friend. There are probably many so-called chicken women here, but I’m talking about one in Kihei.

Kihei is the Waikiki of Maui, more or less. There are subdivisions with buildings and roads, but there are also many accommodations for tourists. Amidst all the tourist-related shops and condominiums, there are small parts of Kihei that have forests and jungles. These areas are as pristine as the days when Maui’s kingdom and young warriors roamed this small space of the earth.

But here in 2010, and for the past few years, every day at 5:00 p.m., my friend drives down a small road in Kihei and turns left onto a road that I won’t say, but I will that it runs parallel to — and between — Uwapo Road and Kanani Road. There is forest on each side of this road – as there are many roads down in Kihei. Black-crowned night herons and Hawaiian stilt birds share the forest canopy between dusk and dawn, but during the day they fly to fresh water lakes several blocks away. My friend parked where the forest begins on the right side of the road facing the mountains – in other words, leaving mauka. Red Junglefowl lives here and the other side of the road, too. Red Junglefowl (gallus gallus) lives throughout the island of Maui and other Hawaiian islands. They belong to the pheasant family and are primarily found in India, Sri Lanka and southeast Asia. They have been present on the Hawaiian Islands for centuries They have been present on the Hawaiian Islands for centuries. Males are colored with red feathers on their head and chest. The males have violet and turquoise feathers. Chickens are different shades of beige and brown which hide them well.

It was quite a sight to see him arrive, driving 15-20 miles per hour in his little red car. The chickens and hens on the right side of the road saw him coming, so they started running forward to meet him. You have to drive past them and then turn to the right shoulder so you don’t run down the hungry chicks or their mothers. A red car may be in front of you two blocks before you arrive, yet the chickens just stand there and wait. They know the uniqueness of your car. When they saw his car in the distance, and convinced themselves that they were hearing the engine of his car, they and their children ran away. The roosters hang back and watch.

People drive and some cheer for racing chickens and small chickens. Random male drivers in trucks pull up, some clinging to their steering wheels with one right elbow and one right hand, their heads stuck at an odd angle out of the driver’s window, slurs out of their mouths and then they cried, “Crazy Chicken Lady.” It seems that the weirdest man on Maui has something against the survival of the Junglefowl. They also seem to really hate any old woman in a bag, giving-in-a-chicken-kine-kine-kine-clothes and hair up in a bun or maybe it’s just a middle-aged woman they hate. My friend listens to happiness and sadness.

He had told his friends – when they asked – that he had gone to put fresh water in the containers for the birds because they were thirsty. As soon as he poured the water, they ran to get their first water for the day. You know that the Junglefowl can eat bugs from the forest floor, but it is kind to the hens, chickens and roosters if they don’t have water in humid, hot weather. And, he thought, since he was there anyway, he might as well have a little chicken run their way.

You have to be agile when it comes. He stopped the car and quickly pulled the lever next to the driver’s seat to open the trunk. He grabbed his gallon jug of water from the passenger seat, jumped out of the car, ran to the back of the car, opened the trunk door, pulled out a bowl of chicken broth, and than what is in the bird. his right, and refills the bowl and jogs across the street with chicken scratch in one hand and a heavy jug of water in the other. That’s how it all goes when everything goes right.

If the vehicle is coming, he cannot cross, so he must shout to the chickens and roosters on the road to stop there. They are quite miffed that the chicken on the right side of the road is always first. There are always little chicks to feed on the right side of the road and if the mother hens are not quick to eat, they run into the middle of the road with their chicks screaming and peep-peeping close behind.

There was a rooster on the left side of the road that someone dropped there recently, and it wouldn’t stay for a second if my friend couldn’t run across the road. This rooster is not a jungle fowl. It is some kind of native and very determined to be the first person to greet. Often, my friend has to stop traffic by raising his arms and hands in the air so he can get to the other side as quickly as the cock is half way across. Once he reached the other side, he followed him there and tried to get in front of him to beg them to be religious. You pick your pet. The woman throws him a chicken, but he ignores her at first and follows her as she washes the water bowls, refills the water bottles and throws the chicken wings to the waiting bird. These, then, are the simple methods and techniques that my friend uses to feed and water the Junglefowl in his little corner of Maui: Give them water, give them some food and give them some kindness for a while they are able to enjoy life. And do whatever you can to protect them from the road they choose to live on the edge of long before they reach Maui. To this end, he carried bowls of water and chickens through the high wall to the side of the forest.

For some reason, it is rare to see a chicken on the left side of the road, although recently there has been one. It’s hard to say why the chickens on the left side of the road didn’t survive more than a day or two, but the chickens on the right side of the road did.

Young Junglefowl roosters are missing from both sides of the road every once in a while, too. More than 30 cats on each side of the road are fed by their colony keepers, male and female, every night after dark. But there are other predators in the forest. They are men and their children who go fishing every week or two to bring home the young roosters. These men carry full-grown roosters, so that they can engage defenseless birds in cockfights. With the men’s traps, sometimes they catch chickens and chicks and sometimes unknowingly. They let them go, most likely, when they came for their young male birds that were trapped. Sadly, many cats have been caught in the plastic fishing-reel line, too. Most of the cats died from starvation and torture. I know of a cat that bit her hand off and was found by a cat groomer, checked at the Maui Humane Society and given a clean bill of health. That is a rare happy story in the jungles of trapped victims.

There are also cases where mothers and fathers go into the woods together and manage to catch or collect a few young chickens for the sake of taking them home to join their backyard chickens and the reigning rooster. There is poverty on Maui, so this is a family’s self-indulgent decision and I don’t think people are predators who just want to feed their families by getting more laying hens.

But the men who arrived in their big pick-up farm with their children, impressionable children and screech their tires, leaving, when my friend arrived; these are the people I call predators. The police in Maui can easily see who these cockfighting men are because they have blue-colored barrels set up in their yard with a cock tied next to the blue-colored barrels they face. If there is a family on Maui that has this type of setup and they are just raising roosters for the purpose of selling them to people who raise chickens, I apologize in advance. This may be the case in some cases throughout the islands and they are exempt from the description I have just given. There is no particular tribe here in Hawaii that believes it is their cultural right – as Georgie Fong of Haiku says – to enslave, imprison and kill cockroaches; no, there are many who believe it is their right. Of course, not everyone in those tribes supports cockfighting. I am not aware of any research to show whether the supporters of rooster-fighting in each species are few or if they are many. If such studies have been conducted, I would like to write the results of such studies.


Bets are made behind the scenes. The next cock-fighting scene is planned. How many police officers in the Maui Police Department knew about the incident ahead of time and chose not to come and arrest those involved, but instead turned a blind eye? I don’t know. How many police officers in the Maui Police Department (and other police departments across Hawaii) make their own bets on so-called sports? I don’t know. I hope the answer is no. But events are held regularly. Two roosters are drugged into an angry state. Blades are attached to their legs and they are forced to begin their fight to the death. This is pure, cruelty to animals. Also, it is indifference of parents to children if some of these parents take their children or teenagers to cockfighting. But that last word may just be my opinion. The former is not an opinion. Cockfighting is a misdemeanor under Hawaii State Law, punishable by a maximum fine of $2000 and one year in prison.

In April of this year, a resolution was passed (HCR277) which supports cockfighting as a cultural activity. The decision was introduced by three representatives who said that cockfighting is a national sport in the Philippines and “a popular tradition in many cultures throughout the world.” There was great opposition by animal groups to the decision. A spokesperson for the Maui Humane Society, for example, says that cockfighting is unethical and cruel. It’s hard to believe that the decision was passed, but it was – because of the Home Tourism, Culture and International Affairs Committee.

The resolution does not give any person in Hawaii any legal right to commit this atrocity. Cockfighting is still illegal here on Maui and throughout the Hawaiian Islands.

The next day at the airport as I was boarding the plane, the back of a man’s T-shirt caught my eye. There is a picture of a beautiful rooster silk screened on the T-shirt. The quote says, “Cockfighting is not illegal. It is ours cultural.”

That’s wrong!

My friend feels the least he can do is give the Junglefowl some water and food every evening before sunset, so he puts up with the abuse. If you’ve been spitting up regularly – and you reckon it’ll probably be the next level – he says your plan then will be to make your ‘chicken run’ a morning chore instead of an afternoon pleasure. You wish you could do more.

Copyright owned by Pamela K. Williams

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