It had just rained when we arrived a little late to the Bantam Swap. Maybe many years ago it was a sweet bantam swap but no longer. The fairgrounds were heaving with the most curious and slightly terrifying mixture of peoples and animals. Hundreds of animals, birds and people. Cages piled up everywhere you looked. 
It really was a market, a flash back to an old way. Everything was for sale. People were wandering about with turkeys and geese and ducks under their arms, literally under their arms. They would buy them, and pick them up and walk away. 
They sloshed through the mud dragging their cages on trolleys filled with little pigs, or baby chicks. There were even a few bantams. Llamas, horses, a sweet jersey cow. All tethered or caged. This llama watched me and kept turning and posing for the camera. I don’t have enough money for you I whispered to him. I am so sorry. He turned his head silently and looked away. 
Goats, sheep. The massively ugly and heart wrenchingly beautiful. 
The animals and birds were wet and terrified. They were for sale. They waited in tiny cages. Anyone could have them for money. I cannot find a word to describe how we stepped into another world from another time. This was the dirty end of the basic desire to grow your own food. The incredible idea that you can have power over your own food. As we walked about we became quiet, over come by the myriad of caged animals and birds. All watching. This wee goat was incongruous in his little jersey. He did not belong in this filthy place.
All the farmers had driven their vehicles into the grounds and lined them up in rows and heaved their animals out into the pathways. This fair could have been staged 100 years ago and only the hemlines and trucks would have been different. As we walked, it became obvious that here were the real people who grew their own food. And there were the people buying these animals to raise for food. These people were not pretty, or well dressed. Their lifestyles were muddy and gutsy and visceral. They did not have hobby farms or read designer magazines or have good hair. They were selling animals for the money they needed to feed their other animals. Many languages, many hard tired faces. Much laughter and ribbing across the aisles. Tough. Dirty boots and trousers held up with string. I felt the oldness of it. The struggle. The realness of this market compared to the pretty pictures we see. The pretty pictures I take. 
And then I saw Kupa. He was in a cage with three other male peacocks. And he watched me watch him and ducked with my every movement as I circled his cage taking photos of him. He and his men stood amidst the baying of goats and screaming of pigs, the clucking and squawking and screeching of chickens, the shouting of men, the wild laughing of children, the squelch of mud, the honking of ducks and the gobble of turkeys. This cacophony of hysteria. A man walked past carrying a screaming piglet. Screaming at the top of his lungs. The peacocks just stood and watched. Still.
I said to John I think we will take this one home. Our John, who has said NO we are Not ever getting a peacock, about a hundred times in the past, quickly agreed. Happy to bring something bright and live out of this fierce market.
The man who had brought these peacocks all the way from Michigan was happy to barter with me and so a deal was struck. Kupa was carefully transferred to my dog box and set in the car. This man was gentle with his birds and had a wide laugh. We are hoping that next time he will bring some hens so Kupa can have a mate.
This morning Kupa is sitting in isolated splendour in the large enclosure which has been waiting for the turkeys. Last night when we finally released him into his finished enclosure in the barn, a cat came to look at him and he turned and honked at it. He sounded like a mournful foghorn, a sound from my child hood days. Hmm, John said, thats unfortunate. Well, they do get a wee bit noisy I confessed, but mostly I remember the screeching from the farms at home. What screech, said John. Um, reluctantly, it sounds like this and opened my mouth and at the top of my voice I screeched long and high like a terrified child. Kupa snapped his head to me. The cat turned tail and scarpered. The guineas peered down from their roosts. John said, Hmm. Still not convinced that anything that beautiful and that regal and that serene could make such a dreadful noise. And we went to pick the asparagus.
Good morning. All good here on this spring morning. Back home on our quiet little property. Far from those madding crowds. It feels like a little oasis after yesterday’s market. Kupa will stay in his house for a month until he knows the barn is his home, then he also will be set free. To roam the grounds. And get up to no good. Him and his mate when we find her, the man only had males yesterday.
He is a jewel of a bird, as beautiful as you can imagine.
Now I had better get out there and do all the chores I did not get to yesterday. The Matriarch and I worked furiously yesterday afternoon to get the turkey run finished while Kupa watched us from his big dog crate. So I am behind!
Good morning!
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
113 responses to “Finding Kupa”
A powerful and poetic post Celi, I remember stopping in Morocco a few years ago at a market, and it was like something out of biblical times (or how I imagine them to be!!) the dust, the clothing, the animals, the deals. It was both captivating and disturbing.
So John really hadn’t heard a peacock before your impression? I can tell you it sounded good from here
hilarious, they all looked at me askance!! he will hear it for real eventually! poor fella is in for a shock! c
Your description made me remember that I am much content to be a plant based eater. I am so grateful I do not have to raise animals for food. I don’t begrudge those who do it; our family grew up on wild meat. I’m just glad I don’t eat meat anymore!
Our Soul Safari group in S. Africa watched a group of lionesses stalk wildebeests. All of us were animal freaks – none of us knew whether to cheer or cry when the wildebeests got away. Talk about three jeeps of ridiculously soppy humans! 😀
Oh I know the feeling, what contrary creatures we really are! c
A lovely bird and a beautiful post. It is hard to believe that such a sound comes from a bird that looks like the peacock does. I suppose nature didn’t want too much beauty all in one place.
Morning Bill, good point. It is an awkward marriage though this profound velvety heavenly look and then the raucous honk! or screech tho his warning (that you are getting too close ) sound, is a sweet ‘tock, tock’.. c
And now you have a peacock! Crazy! There is a freerange one roaming the lane near his little country cottage not so far from here, always a slightly bizarre sight. There is beauty but I’m sure that market must also have been a place of hurt and pain too, so sad. 🙂
it was basic.. you know i still cannot find the word that means ancient, true, basic, real, painful, repulsive and stunning all at the same time.. c
For some reason, visceral comes to mind. I didn’t know I knew the word even. 😉
yes it has been rolling through my mind too, stripped down, unpretentious, visceral..keep thinking we will get it! c
What a wonderful new addition to your family, C! He’s beautiful.
He is doing well too and such a sight in that rustic barn.. c
An amazing description of what must have felt like a surreal experience, Celi. We sometimes forget or don’t realise how harsh the nitty gritty of surviving on the land can be. I’m so glad you found Kupa, he’s very beautiful. As, in an odd way, was the turkey who seemed to consider himself a swan… xx
isn’t that turkey out of this world with his head tucked in and he was huge! an amazing and quite terrifying bird.. c
well, this is very exciting! i can’t wait for more pics! and oh boy, the quiet little farmy will never quite be so quiet anymore! welcome kupa!
No our rumble will become a roar!! c
Lots of luck with the bejewelled Kupa – the latest addition to the farmy. Your description of the market is so poignant and the llama look so very sad.
I know that llama was such a dear.. c
Fabulous post. Incredibly evocative and yes, Dickensian. But as you say, this is all part of the gritty reality of life with animals. Kupa is a beauty. We used to have neighbors with peacocks, and they would occasionally appear perched up on our fence or strolling in the yard, but mostly we just heard their screams of ‘Help! Help! Heeeeeelp!’ all the time, and once I got used to knowing that it wasn’t an abused person in peril crying out, I grew rather fond of the call.
Morning kathryn I have tracked your comments right through up to the present day and it is always lovely to see you over here, it is like speed dating! Thank yoiu so much for all that and I am dying to see johns face when Kupa finally wakes up and starts to cal for a mate!! c
I think what captured me most was the contrast between the “visceral” gut-wrenching description of pants held up with string and the roughness.. and the heavenly glorious photographs you interspersed between words.. The animals looked so innocent and helpless, it actually made me quite sad for them. I was thinking, well, maybe I should become a vegetarian after all.. oh, well, those photographs of yours are quite stunning, the colors, the light.. the angle of the shots, all of it!! Perfect! xo Smidge
Thank you smidge, when I started putting them together there was so much white that i thought to myself Smidge will like these.. c
Congratulations on the new addition to your farmy! A handsome fella, I’m sure. You described the swap so well, I felt like I was there. I have seen these people in my lifetime, but it’s been a long time.
Morning Patti. These people were very real, very hard working, they had some logic to their lives really, not sentimental.. very old fashioned. c
I love peacocks. When I was a kid, we used to go on school trip to the bird zoo and the peacocks were always my favorite with their elegant poses and magical colors.
Can’t wait to hear all about Kupa’s adventures
They do pose so elegantly Sawson, it will be interesting to see how he does with my some what motley crew! c
A most moving post.. an excellent read.. great photos… Interesting that I wrote about a Brain Damaged Fox in a zoo today Celi.. and thanks for popping over …
Morning Helen, yes, seeing that fox just after writing about the caged animals in markets was an interesting parallel, gosh that fox was a stunning image! c
But the plumage is just so gorgeous on the peacock!
he is almost two so this summer we may see some progress on that tail.. it will be wonderful.. c
What a vivid and real description of the market. I felt I was right there with you. My American cousin Chuck had peacocks on his land in California. They dropped their beautiful feathers on the ground, and I was allowed to pick some up to bring back to NZ with me. Of course I had to declare them at Customs, and then they were taken from me for fumigating (at my expense) and I had to drive out to the airport to collect them 2 weeks later. But they were still beautiful, and always reminded me of those magnificent birds (and yes they do screech, but you learn to screen out the sound and enjoy their beauty)
Just like you to bring back peacock feathers from a trip to california Juliet, do you still have them in a vase in the house somewhere? I do look forward to his tail feathers! c