Caribbean Roosters

May 29^th, 2009

During my recent visit to St. Thomas in the US Virgin Islands, I was caught off guard by the cock-a-doodle-doo I heard the very first morning. Being in a different environment, I concluded there must be a farm close by and moved on to other thoughts. How surprised was I to find hens and baby chicks wandering around the hotel grounds when I left my rooms that afternoon. I thought I was seeing things. It was surreal seeing them casually strutting and pecking at the ground occasionally as they moved from one grassy area to the next. As if on cue, there was the invariable baby chick trailing far behind the others with mama's watchful eye on him. Still thinking there had to be a farm close by, I was surprised again to find there were no farms around and that all the surrounding property belonged to the hotel. I found out from a friend soon after that wild chickens, as well as iguanas, roam freely in St. Thomas. Not only are they free to roam, but apparently are respected and not bothered.

When a neighbor in the hotel asked why someone did not trim the trees to improve the view of the bay, we found out that the trees are protected as a natural habitat for the iguanas. Staying close in to Charlotte Amalie and the town center, I did not experience other wildlife, but I was impressed that this small island maintains its unique integrity while still catering to the tourist trade. And chickens, of all things.

I couldn't help but find the irony in comparison to the states where wild chickens wouldn't last too long before turning into someone's dinner. I guess my fascination and fixation on the whole idea was that I had not seen chickens in any environment for any length of time my entire life. There is no doubt about the lack of reverence most Americans hold for chickens, thinking of them as meal portions rather than living birds. I am just as guilty and one has to recognize the attitude is more cultural than moral in either case.

With all this unimportant theorizing going on in my head, I am sure I sounded strange, if not deranged, commenting on it frequently. In fact, I talked about them so often, my friend was sure I was going to smuggle one home. The truth about that notion is that what you get when you take home a Caribbean chicken is just a chicken.