[11:57 @ Jungle Lodge, Kanha National
Park, MP, India]
This
morning’s safari is one of the best to date.
We - Anne, Chris, Faiyaz, Janice, Kim, Tarun, the obligatory park guide
(whose job in fact is to make sure that the tourists and tour operators don’t
violate park rules, including leaving their vehicles and going on foot) and I -
saw the tigress Mohini - mother of four new cubs according to Tarun - lots of
birds, swamp deer, a large herd of wild boar and a very rare pack of six wild
dogs. The only tiger sighting better
was the elephant-back sighting of the tiger family in Bandhavgarh on Omni
Film’s first day out with Executive Producer Michael Chechik and Director
Andrew Gardner back in 1997.
Mid-morning,
we stopped in the shade of a large banyan tree on the edge of the forest,
overlooking an expansive meadow. Tarun
laid out the packed brunch on a few stainless-steel trays – “pop-corn omelet”,
hard boiled eggs, samosas, oranges, chai.
At
first sight, the meadow would strike uninitiated eyes to be peculiar in two
ways. First was that underlying the
grass was a vague rectangular grid pattern.
I had found out in previous expeditions that the meadow used to be the
paddy fields of one of the 20 villages that had been relocated out of the park
Core Area to the surrounding Buffer Zone.
In the ensuing years, the paddy field had reverted to a sparsely treed
grassland.
The
second peculiarity was what might appear to be a strange geological formation,
which comprised buttressed reddish rock spires up to four meters (10’)
high. The densities of the trees and
the spires were about the same; evenly spaced in the meadow were about a dozen
trees of good stature and about a dozen tall rock spires, plus a number of
saplings and “budding” spires of various heights and girths. Grazing among the trees and spires was a
herd of Chital, and soaring the thermal above it all were three or four
vultures.
Faiyaz
said, “I thought about your amoeba dream last night. Other than its being magical and illuminating, there is something
else about it. I mean, there is no
piece of information in it I didn’t already know, but I’ve never looked at an
amoeba or a dragonfly or a human being, or life itself for that matter, quite
that way before. In fact, I have never
looked at myself quite that way before either.
Especially combined with the miracle-working demonstration yesterday, it
makes me feel… powerful as a human being… almost for the first time in my
life. I feel… what do they say?… empowered. Yes, your story is very empowering.”
“Glad
to hear it.”
We
sat side by side, eating in silence.
“I
have a test for you guys,” I said to Faiyaz, Anne and Chris after awhile,
who were sitting with me, or might I say Raminothna said through me to them,
whilw Kim, Janice and Tarun were chatting at the tailgate of the Gypsy.
“I
don’t have to stop eating, do I?” said Chris, chomping away.
“Nope. All you have to do is to look.”
“At
what?”
“The
meadow.”
“I’m
looking.”
“Now,
what I want you to see is this. Imagine
taking a time-lapse video of this meadow over the next century and replaying it
fast forward in 100 seconds, what would you see?”
They
looked intensely at the meadow for a full minute. Faiyaz broke the suspense.
“Yes, finally, I see what I think you want me to see. But I don’t see what point you’re trying to
make.”
“What
do you see?” Anne asked him.
“Well,
first, I see the grass covering the meadow.
It’s like a shimmering carpet alternating green and brown once every
second.”
“Good
start.”
“Next
are the trees. They sprout from the
ground, mushroom to full stature, then suddenly collapse, and eventually
crumble to nothing, all within several dozen seconds, each in its own time of
course. And while they live, they give
off once-per-second flowering flashes.”
“Hey,
that’s very captivating, Faiyaz,” said Chris.
“And
the animals. They are individually
invisible, but instead form a ground-hugging probability cloud.”
“So
far, so good.”
“And
finally, the termite mounds,” for that’s exactly what the rock spires
were. “They behave just like the
trees. They sprout from the ground just
like the trees, mushroom to full size just like the trees, then suddenly dying
and eventually crumbling to nothing, just like the trees, all within several
dozen seconds just like the trees, each in its own time of course, just like
the trees. And while they live, just
like the trees, they also give off once-per-second flashes comprising the
release and swarming of winged reproductive alates from all mounds
simultaneously. This is what you want
me to see, isn’t it – about the termite mounds?”
“And
what do you make of it?”
“That
a termite mound is as alive as a tree?
Which makes common sense, since the termites themselves are alive. Is that it?
That the termite mounds are alive?”
“Yes,
but not far enough.”
“I
would have thought that to call a termite mound alive is already going a little
too far, since only the termites are alive, but not the shell of the mound.”
“Is
this like saying that calling a crab alive is going a little too far, since
only its cells are alive, but not its shell?”
“But
a crab is a bona fide organism – a living thing.”
“Ah
ha! Now we’re getting somewhere,”
“You’re
not actually saying that a termite mound is a bona fide organism, are you?”
Anne cut in.
“Isn’t
it?”
“Well,
there is one test that can answer this for certain,” Faiyaz said. “I can run it through the gauntlet of
classical biology’s Seven Vital Functions.
A candidate entity must possess all seven vital functions to qualify as
a bona fide organism. I learned it in
high school.”
“Me
too,” I said, thinking back to my own education under the Irish Jesuits of Wah
Yan. “Must be part and parcel of the British colonial educational system. Sure.
Do it.”
“Okay. The First Vital Function is Ingestion. A bona fide organism needs to ingest
materials of some kind, even just solar energy, water, O2, CO2
and certain minerals in the case of plants.
The termite mound does need to ingest food, which includes grass, leaves
and dead wood. Here, a distinction must
be made. We should be talking only
about what the mound ingests, not what the individual termites ingest, because
there are certain termite and ant species, like the lead-cutter ant, which take
leaves into the mound, not for the termite’s direct consumption, but to use as
a substrate for the cultivation of certain species of fungi upon which the
termites themselves then feed. In this case, the mound ingests the leaves, and
the fungus should be considered as an intermediate product of the mound’s
internal metabolism.”
“Couldn’t
have put it better myself.”
“The
Second Vital Function is Excretion. The
mound does discharge waste material, such as exhausted substrate, uneaten
fungal parts, miscellaneous debris and dead termites. The termite’s own feces, however, is used as building material
for the shell and internal partitions of the mound. So the termites’ feces is not the termite mound’s excretion but
is the internal secretion of the mound, equivalent to the internal secretion of
the crab which builds the shell of the crab.”
“Now
you’re talking.”
“The
Third Vital Function is Reactivity. The
mound does react to external stimuli. If attacked, e.g. by ants, ant-eaters,
etc., it defends itself - by means of its soldiers. If damaged, it heals itself - by means of the major workers.”
“Go
on.”
“The
Fourth Vital Function is Movement. A
termite mound, in fact, has more power of movement than a tree, since it can
send out its termites, like a tentacle, to seek and retrieve food.”
“Good.”
“The
Fifth Vital Function is Growth. The
termite mound does grow, as our virtual imaginary videotape demonstrated, in
physical size as well as its termite population.
“The
Sixth Vital Function is Homeostasis.
The termite mound can maintain its own core temperature to within one
degree year round. If heated, it cools
itself by having the minor workers to go down to the water table via tunnels
dug by the major workers, sometimes meters down, each bringing back a droplet
of water in its jaws, which they then would stick onto a partition wall, thus
cooling the mound. If chilled, it warms
itself by the termites clustering, thus maintaining its core temperature. If disturbed, it has a tendency to return to
order.
“The
Seventh Vital Function is Reproduction.
Old mounds do beget new mounds. In this context, the reproduction of the
termites themselves refers to the growth - in internal population - of the
mound, not the reproduction of the mound itself.
“So,
now, I conclude that a termite mound is a bona fide organism.”
“There
is even an Eighth Vital Function.”
“And
that is?”
“Evolution. Not only do the termites evolve, their
mounds do as well.”
“Okay,
Anthony and Faiyaz, I’m convinced. A
termite is a bona fide organism,” said Chris.
“So here is my question. What is
the significance of this?”
“Enough
for one day. Let’s get on with the
safari,” I said, seeing that Tarun was packing up the lunch utensils.
[18:17] This afternoon, everyone stayed in camp except Tarun and Faiyaz,
who went to Baihar to try to contact Pradeep again. No Tarun’s part, he needed money from Delhi. Faiyaz would also check for the availability
of a metal tub for making the communal solar oven with. But before that, we tested the portable
solar oven and to everyone’s delight, not only did it cook the rice, it
overcooked it. Faiyaz confessed that
there was a little doubt in his mind before, but now, he could access the solar
cooker outreach with a clear and enthusiastic conviction.
Late
yesterday evening, Faiyaz, Chris and I had another pow wow, and came up with an
even better idea for the large scale cooker in terms of its costing next to
nothing. Recalling the well-digging at
Chichrunpur, I suddenly had a vision of an underground solar cooker. Instead of building a brick chamber, which
is cheap enough, why not just dig a cubical pit, place the glass plates on top
flush with the ground, and a few adjustable reflectors. The earth itself is an excellent insulator,
though perhaps a impermeable liner of sorts might be required. At most, we could line the inside of the pit
with brick or cement. No metal box
required. All three of us are excited.
Faiyaz
and Tarun came back from town and told me that Pradeep will arrive on the 31st,
who will then fly back with me to Delhi on the 2nd for my first
presentation on the 4th.
Wish I could stay here forever.
[18:58] I visited the free school, took photos of the kids, then
invited some villagers over to show them the Champions of the Wild video. Two village elders (of the nearby Lakma and
Manjitola villages), Deleep and a forest guard were also present. What followed was a three hour post-video
discussion between me and the four gentlemen, with Faiyaz interpreting, Anne,
Kim and Janice, Dimple, Tarun present, and Chris capturing the entire meeting
with WCWC’s Hi-8 cam. Priceless.
Present
was the chief of Manjitola, the nearest village to the Jungle Lodge of the 178
Buffer Zone villages. “Wild boar and
chital come to our village and eat more than half of our crop,” he said. “What can you do for us? ”
“We
have little financial resource to directly help you,” I said as evenly as I
could, “but with your cooperation, we may be able to facilitate changes in the
system which could be beneficial to you, such as raise the park fee for foreign
tourists and have part of the increased revenue come directly to you.”
“What
good is a tiger? Why protect it?” And this is after Pradeep has spoken with
them on this before. The chief is one
of the four people Pradeep talked with back in 1997 when Omni Film was
here. Why is he still asking the same
question?
With
a Canadian student, I would talk about ecological balance and the tiger being
endangered, but to the chief I said, “The tourists come to see primarily the
tiger. If we can raise the park fee,
the tiger will be your financial benefactor.”
“Eco-tourism
has not benefited us, so far,” which is his way of saying, “Yeah, right. I’ll believe it when I see it.”
I
explained, “This is not just a theory.
It’s in practice elsewhere.
Kruger National Park in South Africa, for example, charges around US$25
entrance fee, and Mountain Gorilla viewing in another African country costs
about US$200 per hour.”
His
eyes were like saucers as he converted the amounts into rupees.
I
pressed on, “And Chitwan National Park in your neighbouring country of Nepal
also charges about US$25 per visit, with the revenue split 50/50 between the
park and the villagers. But as you
know, Kanha National Park here charges a ridiculous US$2.50 per full day, with
the villagers seeing not a red cent out of it, except a lot of red dust as
tourist jeeps go roaring past your village.”
I
didn’t mention that the only people who profit from this system are the handful
of hoteliers and tour operators, such as Pradeep. Not in so many words, but I explained my proposal to reform
India’s park system along the lines of Nepal’s, to which the chief reacted with
enthusiastic nods. I haven’t talked to
Pradeep about this idea, mainly because he has not been available by
phone. I wonder what he would think of
it.
“What
is your motive to come here?” This was
not a hostile challenge, but a genuine and reasonable question.
I
replied that I was there to help in whatever way I could - in such a way where
the tigers and the villagers would mutually benefit.
I
will have to systematically rally the support of the chiefs of all 178 villages
around Kanha, and eventually also those around other Indian tiger reserves,
perhaps in the form of a petition to start the park reform ball rolling, which
we will present to Project Tiger on the federal level. The chief seemed to understand what I was
saying, and further to agree with it and to accept it. We’ll see when the time comes for him to put
his signature on the petition.
To
begin winding up, I invited them to lunch at noon tomorrow, rice cooked with
the solar oven.
The
chief looked openly skeptical about the solar oven. Faiyaz assured them that it would work as claimed. I said, “We promised to not overcook the
rice tomorrow.” They laughed. A good place to end the meeting.