Surrounded by forests and swamps, Didysis Raistas is the hometown of ornithologist, nature guide, author of bird books, and founder of Ornitostogos Marius Karlonas—it is the place where his career was shaped. However, according to the naturalist, the path of one's life is determined not just by the environment but also by one's sense of community: whether you seek personal benefit or focus on the environment. "If you're growing up in nature, perhaps you will care about nature; but if you live in downtown Vilnius, perhaps you will fight for human rights. There are very diverse ways to realize oneself, but I think that the amount of civic-mindedness is encoded within us as soon as we are born".
Before the start of Karlonas' documentary TV project Žvėriškos Istorijos (Animal Stories) in April, we talked to the ornithologist about his love of nature, various activities, and studies at Vytautas Magnus University (VMU).
– Marius, did you become who you wanted to be in childhood?
I don't know if as a child I already knew who I wanted to be. Perhaps it was simply clear what I was drawn to: I was always interested in nature. However, I remember that in primary school I pictured my future as a cabinetmaker—maybe it's because my dad worked with wood. So it doesn't seem that I knew it immediately; perhaps everything happened naturally thanks to the circumstances of my life, where nature, forests, and swamps were my playground. Am I satisfied? Like with every job, there are interesting things as well as those I do not enjoy much, but, all in all, today I make my own choice who to be, which is probably what matters the most.
– Did you live in a rural area?
Oh yes. I grew up in the village of Didysis Raistas in Jonava District. It's a former peatland, which used to be one of the largest swamps in Kaunas and Jonava districts; it was dried and worked out during Soviet times. Of course, when I was born, all that remained was just this worked-out wound surrounded by forests. And there were barely any kids in the village; they just came from other towns to visit their grandparents on the weekends. So, naturally, after class, I used to go somewhere into nature, into swamps.
– And what did you do there?
I don't think that a child needs to think of things to do. A child needs an empirical experience. Let's say that for adults, it's sufficient to gain knowledge, whereas a kid needs to touch, create, sense, smell something and so on. Nature is filled with adventures of that kind. So that was what I cared about: to bring home some lizard or a snake; I also raised mice and caught moles. Before birds caught my interest in my teenage years, fishing was one of my biggest hobbies. I used to go fishing alone in the peatland's small lakes. Nature is such an immense playground; it doesn't take a long time to think of things to do there. A curious child can find various kinds of activities for themselves just by walking around the forest or the meadows.
– Nowadays, children who grow up in the city do not have such opportunities. In your opinion, had you not lived in nature, would you have ended up where you are now?
Of course, it's hard for me to imagine my life being unconnected to social or environmental values. However, if my environment had been different, perhaps I would have chosen a different path. I think that some of an individual's worldview—whether it is egocentric and self-focused or more altruistic and oriented towards the environment (ecocentric)—is encoded in the genes. I think that when a person is born, their inclinations are already apparent. Later on, based on that worldview, they will find the area where they can self-actualize: whether it's all for themselves and the others do not matter, or it's the opposite and they want to devote themselves to the environment. So, it probably depends on the circumstances and the surroundings in which a person has grown up: if you are growing up in nature, maybe you'll care about nature, but if you live in downtown Vilnius, maybe you'll fight for human rights. There's a multitude of ways to self-actualize, but I think that the worldview is encoded the moment we are born.
– How did birds become a part of your life?
Oh, actually, it happened within a single day. My parents started feeding birds in the yard, which I didn't find particularly interesting. But then, as I was sitting at the window with a cup of tea and indifferently observing the feeding trough, I suddenly noticed a bird of prey flying in from the neighbours' side. It attacked the birds who were at the feeder, didn't catch any of them and flew away. That's when I became curious: I wanted to know more about that bird, I wanted to nurture this kind of bird of prey.
I started reading books about it at home, then the parents installed the internet, so I found an online forum of ornithology and I realized that there are more "weirdos" than just me. I started looking into it and asking around. Of course, ornithologists quickly corrected me that you shouldn't bring nature home, nature must live in nature. Regardless, I understood this myself very quickly after joining that community of true naturalists. I realized that nature has to live in nature and not in someone's room or somewhere else. I haven't kept any animal at home since then, other than temporarily, if it is injured.
Then, I simply started observing. Every day after class, I went to nature, to the swamps and the forests—with a different perspective, though—and I sought out and watched birds: not just the birds of prey but various kinds. I remember that my parents bought me binoculars, and I spent my savings on a small camera. Little by little, I started getting noticed by experienced ornithologists, who'd take me on various expeditions, tours and trips—that's how I got involved. At 18, I became a member of Lithuanian Ornithological Society; two years later I was elected into its management board; soon after that, I began participating in various bird censuses and working on environmental projects.
– What about school and exams?
I wasn't a very good pupil at school, sometimes I was even weaker than average. I'm grateful to the deputy director, who noticed my interest in nature when I was in grade 11 or 12 and started preparing me for the biology exam, because she saw that I cared about it; actually, I barely paid any mind to anything else. I graduated from school and enrolled in the then Lithuanian University of Agriculture (currently VMU Agriculture Academy). I was following my dad's footsteps, into forestry, because I thought that nature must mean forests. After six months, when I realized that forest cultivation for economic purposes wasn't for me, I dropped out and started working as an ornithologist. Six years later, I enrolled again, encouraged by a fellow naturalist, a good friend and teacher at VMU, Žydrūnas Preikša, into Applied Ecology at VMU Agriculture Academy. That time, I didn't make a mistake—this field was right for me. I completed my Bachelor's degree and then my Master's.
– How did the studies complement your career as a self-made ornithologist?
They added a lot. I could say that I know everything and have a job, but a good specialist does require a university education. Firstly, I got a diploma, without which I wouldn't have been able to work as an expert; secondly, the studies provided me with a much better understanding of our environment. Since reaching adulthood, I had prohibited myself from taking interest in anything other than ornithology. You can't be good at everything after all, and life is too short to scatter your attention between multiple activities. Still, as you constantly work in one field, you eventually realize that a broader understanding is also required, at least about the fields that are adjacent to your activity. A good ornithologist needs to also be acquainted with hydrology, botany, and all other fields, even agriculture and forestry. An ecologist gains a kind of general understanding about the world, the functioning of the entire system of nature, and the interaction between the inanimate and animate worlds. So the studies provide an introduction to certain fields that you yourself might not have time for or might not force yourself to delve deep into. I met truly great teachers with whom I could have serious discussions and also listen to their interesting lectures with amazement. It was a great pleasure to gain knowledge from them.
– You were studying and working at the same time; now, your list of activities includes a multitude of different projects. Where do you get all your energy from?
– When a person does something they truly love, they do not count anything, they just enjoy it. Life becomes work—which borders on a dangerous risk of becoming a workaholic or even burning out. I've experienced it, but I realized I can't live any other way.
Like for anyone—not necessarily those working in environmental protection—the key is meaning and self-realization. If someone discovers what they enjoy and do not waste time on what they do not, then everything falls into place. Then, you don't do things half-heartedly, because it's meaningless to do something you create yourself in a mediocre way. It would be a shame to waste your time on low-quality work. Of course, all of our initiatives and projects are mostly my ideas, but we implement them together with a great team of colleagues, so I thank them for that. The only thing I try to take into consideration is the needs of my family and children and the precious time with them.
– The most common enemy of self-realization is family, friends, or those around you who try to talk you out of it. Did you face resistance in your path?
Of course, I did. In my teenage years, I was bullied in various ways. Imagine a fourteen-year-old who watches birds. Children who are different and do not do what everyone else does are always objects of bullying, they get nicknames. Wherever you are, kids—especially teenagers up to around sixteen—are very cruel. Afterwards, you learn to not say something out loud or to just laugh to yourself. So if someone thinks that I was the only one who suffered, no, it's likely that everyone has encountered bullying in adolescence—some more, some less. I think it's important not to treat that as traumas in the future. It is a stage of a young person's life and it won't be any other way. You need to focus on your own things and try not to pay much attention to it.
Even though family was very supportive, I remember that even my grandparents had told me jokingly: "Well, Mariukas, do something serious, not those little birds of yours." There have been some comments and teases like that, like "Play around and it will pass". Everyone thought you couldn't make a living out of it and I should do what "normal" people do.
– What advice would you give to today's schoolchildren?
I am very happy I found myself early and started working in ornithology at twenty years old. School gives you standard knowledge, but I think it's important to look for yourself—what do you really like—and start exploring that with curiosity. Still, my advice is to follow the same credo I did—do not scatter your attention. If you have found your field, stick to it. Life is short, so if you want to be a good specialist, you don't have the time to have four hobbies or a fifth side activity. It's good to take interest and expand one's horizons, but constantly jumping between different activities isn't worth it—that is a problem that I've noticed among today's youths.