Kipling Camp

DAY 1

Arriving in Jabalpur, I turn to the man next to me to inquire about the size of the city. Simply, he replies, "It's big enough." And so the adventure begins at a tiny airfield in central India.

Happy to see Avinash and my driver waiting, I climbed into the SUV and off we went for a 3 hour drive. All roads a bit rough, passing villages all along the way. The soundtrack from Avinash's MP3 player rocking us out to a band called The Vaccines. Turning into Kipling Camp, I was walked to my room and found I had no idea what I was to be doing. It appeared that the camp was empty and I later find out that I am indeed the last tenant of the season. I am called to lunch and after creating what is undoubtedly the first chicken curry burrito out of roti (mostly a clever way to avoid touching my food as all Indian food seems to be intended) - I returned to my Saja to rest in the hammock and try to sort out the book I have chosen from the wonderful outdoor library. The books reek of mothballs and dust. I make about 2 pages before I promptly rack out only to wake to spotted deer wandering through camp. Add to this the healthy population of langurs (black faced monkeys) and I'm already satisfied with my venture. I move my nap inside and wake to the crunching of footsteps approaching the door. Here to greet me are Rob and Rahgu from camp. They inquire if I'm interested in bathing the elephant, Tara. 

Straightaway I'm flying into my swimwear and nearly skipping to where the manhout, Luvkush, has loaded her with a saddle. We ride for nearly 20 minutes to a swimming hole surrounded by glittering sand and black rocks that nearly imitate Tara's gray skin and shape. Taking a ladder down off Tara's back, I'm struck by how incredibly large and gentle she is. A background tremble hedging on fear threatens to rise up, but is squashed by an exploratory trunk sniff as the manhouts unsaddle Her. She then rushes to the swimming hole and with the most satisfying huff, settles into the water up to her shoulders and sighs before closing her eyes. The large brown eyes are covered with long lashes that she rubs with her trunk balled up as a fist. She then curls her trunk over itself to simply rest and enjoy the cool water on such a hot day. 

We wade in slowly to approach her. The water hides the height and intimidation of her girth. Going head to head I am able to explore her trunk and the complex shape of her forehead. The trunk is part hand, part breathing, part water hose and overwhelmingly complicated. The tip is as nimble as any man's fingers, if not more. Her entire body is covered with widely spaced stiff hairs and she has smallish ears that are delightfully covered with pink spots. After she has soaked and dunked a few times, she moves to shallow water again exposing her great size. She lays down on her side and allows us to scrub her skin with flat rocks. I hop to it as if I've been washing elephants my whole life only partway through realizing I haven't the slightest inclination of what I should be doing. We step back and she executes the Herculean effort of flopping over and we continue with more of the same. Completing this exercise, she rises and proceeds to rinse herself and everyone else in proximity with ambitious flailing of a water filled trunk.  Tara then walks up to her drying rock where she snacks on some shrubs and let's the sun dry her rough skin. We have juice and chocolates and admire her while she goes about her processes such as using a stick to scratch between her toes. We sneak her a few biscuits, which requires putting your hand very nearly in her mouth where a great tongue takes it away. We retire back to our rocks and our juice to enjoy the sun setting and dry a bit.

Tara's Bathtub

Who's excited to get her howdah off and get a bath!?

She doesn't look so big when she is submerged, but some tiny fear was still there.

I spooked you with my trunk again - ha, ha laughed the elephant.

David, me and Luvkush (manhout)

A surprise spraying.  She is hilarious...

Check out my clean feet!

A sunset fit for a king, or elephant, or a nice kid from Oklahoma living the dream.

 

The walk back to camp is filled with wind and clouds rolling in, finally giving relief to the heat that plagued the afternoon. We discuss flowers, birds, careers and the diversity of India. We feed Tara before retiring to tea before a late dinner. 

After a shower that is composed of me hopping about and trying to master the great temperature balance, I compose myself and head to the gathering place to have tea, read awhile, and enjoy our resident lawyer singing and playing guitar (this is Avinash from the ride in). We then dine by candlelight under large trees that frame the 3/4s moon. Conversation and laughter go on until we are ushered to bed by Belinda who knows a 4:45 start for safari in the morning will come early. 

The is the real India. The one I've dreamed about. The India that Kipling's Rikki Tikki roamed about in. The smell of the woods is quintessentially India. A hit of spice, a hint of elephant and an array of flowers so unfamiliar they beckon deeper breaths to get it all in. As I compose this from my mosquito net protected sanctuary, something is crunching about in the leaves outside my window. I have been cautioned that there are leopards about. The alarm calls from the woods only cause me to wonder more. 

DAY 2

Sleep was scant with the 4:25 wake up call from the man bringing masala Chai.  We were soon in the Gypsy Jeep and headed to Kahna.  We arrived second at the gate and watched and the jeeps lined up  for entry.  Heading into the park, the forest looked remarkably similar to those I've seen at home with the exception of different tree species.  I stayed wrapped in my blanket and dozed on and off confident that I would be awoken for any excitement.  We immediately encountered wild boar, gaur(bison of sorts), sanbar, tons of birds and chital (spotted deer).  The good morning calls of birds dominated the sound scape.  We continued on to see swamp deer that are only indigenous to this part of India.  They reside in the open meadows that were once populated by villages and have now been relocated.  We stopped twice for alarm calls shared by chital and langur alike.  There was certainly something there, it just did not desire to be seen. Maybe a leopard, maybe a tiger, certainly a predator about.  We saw the little jackal hunkering about and of great excitement, a mongoose running from clump of grass to clump of grass evading our eyes and the sun.  His big bottle brush tail followed wherever he went and a keen nose led the way.  The chital and langurs were plentiful.  The banyans and ficus glorious in their size and reach.  Feeling the wind in the open top Gypsy was liberating and cleansing.  The sun finally chased us in for a nap.

4:45 sure is early!

Chital in Kanha Zone

Wild Boar in Kanha Zone

Marks where a tiger had been lying in the road.

Ooodles of chital. 

Langurs on the Lookout

You think this tail is handsome....

Check this out ladies!!!!

 

Gaur

Tiger Pug Marks

Langur at the water hole.

Forest Service Elephants.

My favorite tree in the whole park.

Langur

Baby Langur

India Roller - Bright Blue in Flight!

Tiny Monitor Lizard

 

View from a Gypsy

The bell awakens those to lunch who have not plunged into deep sleep.  We dine and the girls are brought from the village for a menhdi application.  They each take an arm and begin applying henna in the most wild  and elaborate patterns.  Stylistically very different, I come away with art to walk with for the next few weeks or so.  The process continues by covering the henna with sugar water and then we wait for drying.  I try for a while to sit, but decide I must walk.  The tops and palms of my hands are covered to the fingertips so that is not an option.  I walk around the watering hole startling chital as I go.  I walk out of camp and cross the road following the narrow paths that weave through the leaf littler.  Finding a group of langurs, I linger a while and loop around camp.  The fire lines prove a boon for pug marks (leopard tracks in this case) and other assorted reminders of the activity going on.  Eventually returning to camp, I sit to watch the ducks parade from the watering hole up to camp.  Waddle, snatch a bit of this or that, waddle some more.  Over two hours later, I finally get the go to remove the henna.  During the course of the gentle rinse, the power goes out and I learn to light a match in the dark.  The reason for the candles is now apparent.

The village girls who supported the henna application.  They were so patient. 

Heading to dinner, I hear Avinash playing the guitar and regaling us with his songs. He is actually quite good otherwise I fear it would be awkward!  Belinda comes out and asks if I've applied oil to the henna.  We get a bowl of mustard oil and I apply it quite liberally from my elbows down.  The question of camp then becomes how to remove it without scrubbing.  The plan becomes to wrap my arms in toilet paper (because we can come up with little else) and blot it out.  So Belinda mummifies both arms and we have effectively degreased me.  This is all done with a bit of laughing and carry on to our guitar soloist.  Dinner again by candlelight gives rise to stories of leopards that kicked bicycles, bats that shriek like banshees, legendary tiger hunts, the issues of poaching (and hunting poachers)and even some lighthearted discussion on the American culture of firearms.  It is a delight that carries on way into the night until we nearly let the candles burn down out of wick.  

DAY 3

Another early start for safari.  Today we are going into a more remote zone in full-fledge tiger searching mode.  I'll break it to you now, it's a bust.  There were a few moments of excitement.  I was dozing as we gazed into some tall grass when our guide called, "Tiger, tiger!"  I'm certain I have never been in a vehicle going that fast in reverse on a dirt road.  Unfortunately the tiger crossed the road and we didn't meet again, but the thrill of maybe seeing it, or hearing the chital's panicked warning barks, was quite nice.  We did manage to see an owl, owlet, huge glistening gaur, and a wild boar wallowing in the mud.  Yes, yes he was as happy as a pig in mud...

Listen to the panic of the chital deer - eerie sound that continued for 30 minutes.

Tiger Pug Mark

Stork

Massive Gaur - Look at those muscles!

Cars, what cars?  I think I'll sit in this shade.

 

And they just ignored him...

The afternoon was dominated by heat.  We grudgingly ate lunch under fans that cut on and off due to the rolling power outages.  Everyone retreated in their own way from the heat.  I'd lost my contempt for the flies and passed out on the couch on the porch only to wake up in my own puddle.  Soon enough, it was time for Tara's bath.  We followed her huge steps and she lumbered to the river.  With the heat, we all just sat in the same pool of water and soaked.  It was divine and even cool when the hot wind would blow over an exposed portion of wet skin.  We eventually scrubbed Tara and when she went to her rock to dry, we took off for the road.  Raheim picked us up for a quick turn around at camp and we began the most incredible journey.

Trunk release sneak attack!

Rob and Luvkush scrubbing away.

I'm pretty sure Rob has made quite a friend over the summer.

 

How to Dry Your Elephant

 

Lying down is no simple business when you weigh tons!

Who needs help rinsing off when you have a trunk?

 

 

 

We followed Raheim over game trails, through thick underbrush, across a dry creek bed and finally rose up a hill to see the sun setting.  We looked out over pastures that were heavily punctuated by very small levees that divided crops and supported irrigation management.  Using these levees to walk across the fields, we came upon the village.  Passing boys herding cows along the same paths, we stepped into the walls of the village.  I cannot begin to explain how tidy and pleasant it was.  Expecting poverty and shanties like the city, I was shocked to see stable housing, a woman pumping water at the well and many people going about the village looking healthy and happy.  We ran into friends of Rob's and Raheim's and a guide from Kahna park.  He brought us to the back of his home were they were making alcohol from the Mahua Tree.  This was essentially a much more simple distillery process.  The woman took some of the liquid being produced and dumped it on the fire.  The burst of flames led there to be no disbelief that pure grain alcohol was being produced.  It was wonderful.  As we beat it back to camp, the sun had fallen.  Thoughts of the leopard about camp helped me keep pace with Raheim's long steps.  

Sun setting over the fields.

Village girls.

Deep and empty well - ready for monsoon to refill it.

Handmade roof tiles.

Suspicious character

Raheim

Mahua Still

 

After my most civilized shower in days, I was ushered in to watch a BBC special that featured the camp owner, Belinda Wright.  It discussed the issues of poaching and the fight to stop it.  Afterwards, we were treated to a candlelit dinner on the veranda that hedged on romantic.  Again, conversation ranged from politics, to tiger attacks to current and past movies.  Nitton, Avinash and Rob make the most suitable dining companions I could imagine.  Fact of the night is that tigers can jump 27 feet. Make a note! --> Worst before bed video ever:

 

DAY 4

The last very early morning!  We returned to Kahna this morning in hopes of catching a glimpse of the rare India tiger.  We were fortunate to catch several jungle fowl flocking about, a whole herd of gaur standing in the road and most exciting of the day, 2 sloth bears tearing into a termite mound.  Apparently catching a view of these critters is a rare treat, so I'll take it.  They were quite large and sported heavy black coats that didn't look suited to the India climate at all.  We still had the various views of Chital (spotted deer) Barasinga (swamp deer) and Sambar (big black deer).  My favorite part of the safari is when the cool of the morning suddenly shifts with a warm breeze that rolls over the Gypsy. It has consistently caused me to pause and close my eyes.  We closed the drive with a jackal sighting and jam sandwiches.  All in all, good morning.

Jungle Fowl - Hen and Rooster

Herd of Gaur and Egrets

Sloth Bears - 200 yards away, but SLOTH BEARS!

Bee hives in a tree!  Cool right?!?

After the obligatory (and divine) post safari nap, the afternoon was filled with talks under strong ceiling fans, bird watching and eventually walking down to wash Tara.  It is still astounding to watch her soak in the river, submerging her trunk and raising back up to blow a puff of air.  She did this dozens of dozens of times.  I never tire of watching it and floating along beside as we all rest in the cool water.  Speaking of floaters, the hilarity highlight of the afternoon was Rob announcing the possibility that Tara had released a floater in the river and to be mindful of floating objects.  Funny in simplicity and reality.  

After Tara's scrub, we beat it to the weekly market in Mocha Village.  Talk about sensory overload.  The narrow pathways are filled with cows, people chasing cows away from produce with sticks and well, people not in the cow chasing category.  The merchandise ranges from produce, to shoes, to spices to clothing.  My companion was after spices, padlocks and deodorant. Mission accomplished!  The astounding fact of it all was price.  I purchased yards and yards of fabric for such little money it felt like robbery.  We bought big chunks of processed sugar cane for Tara the elephant for almost nothing.  For the labor involved in creating in, I don't know how they manage.  One great thing about the market was smells.  Once in a while, you would catch a spice that would send you into coughing fits.  There were fresh vegetables, cow smells and of course the bustle of people working and carrying on.  Our white faces were regarded with curiosity, not contempt.  It was a very good visit.

Cows, Chaos and Curry - India on Foot

 

The last dinner was down to three.  We enjoyed the alarm calls of chital, the frog that scared us all up from the table because there had been some fairly large snakes spotted in camp that afternoon and the scant attention to rustling of leaves just out of the circle of light.  This was the last night of the season for camp.  I am so thankful to have been a part of it all.  

DAY 5 

The last safari was to find the flying foxes.  We drove about 45 minutes, past numerous villages and arrived at a brick making area under some large trees.  Immediately there was a loud rustled overhead ans hundreds of flying fox bats took to the air from their shaded and normally undisturbed perches.  The beat of leathery wings had me frozen to the spot, mouth open and camera at my side.  I couldn't believe I was seeing bats outside, in daylight, and of such size!  We followed them to the next tree they selected and were fortunate to see much squeaking and carrying on as they jostled for appropriate position in the new tree.  Their heads are indeed fox like, but their wings are something to behold.  A beautiful semi-opaque when in flight, with little claws to grasp branches, the engineering was perfect for these creatures inhabiting the mango trees.  On the drive back, we encountered a swarm of cicadas in full form.  The roar was absolutely deafening.  One landed on my pants, but evaded capture when we burst into laughter during the catch.  We returned back in the open top jeep for a big breakfast in the shade.

Flying Foxes in Flight

Flying Fox Bats!

I love them...I really do.

Those are bats!  Not umbrellas that have been cast into the trees!

Collusion!

Flying Foxes in Flight!

Village Women near the Flying Foxes

After a swim in the creek...

Standard village view.

The symbol on the right came up a lot in the visual landscape of India.  My Hindu companions explained it is a symbol of prosperity and success.

 

The Roar of a Locust Swarm!

The rest of the afternoon was spent sitting with the langurs.  Two chital bucks went to sparring and startled the monkeys into a flurry of running and alarm calls.  After they settled, it was back to grooming, playing and soaking up the shade.  The last moments in Kipling Camp weren't sad, but rather sweet moments with people I came to care about.  The staff sent us off with an enthusiastic goodbye.

Langur Play Time

 

Oh, this is your patio?  Well, it looks like we are going to have to share.

Draw me like one of your French girls...

Meow!

Arriving in Delhi, I was swiftly ushered to the home of Belinda Wright.  Belinda is the owner of Kipling Camp and a predominant figure in the fight to save India's wild tigers.  I was kindly spared the middle of the night layover in the Delhi airport via dinner at her home.  I have been wondering where the elite or well to do of India reside.  The complex was quite nice and her home was decorated in a vision that can only be described as equal parts British Colonial and Wild India.  I was fortunate to be in the company of her mother and other revolutionaries (of note, Raghunandan Chundawat and Joanna Van Gruisen) in the mission to protect the tiger.  After a hearty meal, lots of petting for Kim the giant labrador and hugs all around, I was sent off with calls to come back and visit.  

I will see more of India and sincerely hope to see the new friends again.  As I sit with henna covered hands in Heathrow, I'm ready for my cabin, my familiar forest, but I do miss the rhythm of camp, of India.  Til we meet again.  

More Photos of Camp

Barasinga - Emphasis on Bar, A reference to the rare swamp deer.

 

Candlelit dinners.  AMAZING

My first day - though this was definitely cobras - just a pile of hoses.

Termite Mound - 5 Feet Tall!

In my room.  LOVE IT! Emergencies possible - monkey invasion, cobra, leopard on the porch...

Sweet mosquito net over the bed.  I always wanted one of these when I was a little girl.

The path to my cottage.  Rob walked me back every night so I wouldn't be eaten by a leopard.  Chivalry isn't dead.

I miss it all, but it was more than I could have ever asked for.  This is a defining experience to say the least.  Cheers to India and the conservationists fighting the fight!