January 29, 1999, Friday, sunny, 6-20C

 

[11:11 @ Kanha Jungle Lodge]

     Today is medical clinic day.  The clinic will open its doors shortly after lunch.  Faiyaz told me that the average number of people coming to the clinic is now only about 25 per clinic day, versus the 65 or so back in 1997.  Why the steep decline?  Surely their state of health has not so drastically improved in this short time. 

     We’re now sitting around the unlit fire pit.  A doctor from the nearby copper mine – about 40 minutes by Gypsie via a dirt road, just arrived and joined us.  He was fetched with one of the two lodge Gypsies on 30 km’s worth of rutted road by lodge employee Amar, and will be driven back, which means 120 km’s worth of precious and expensive gasoline.  He came on a half-volunteer, half-professional basis, since the mine has a “pro bono” arrangement with Tiger Trust’s conservation program.  He is a man of about 50, bald, heavy set, and has a superficially pompous bearing.  But deeper, he proved very personable, to me as well as to the lowest lodge employees.  His way with the children, which I will shortly observe, will tell the definitive story.

     The medical clinic is in session, so I’ll go and observe and video/photo-document the proceedings.

 

[12:31]     I video-documented the medical clinic, which about 30 villagers attended, with Faiyaz serving as dispenser and Anne as secretary.  The village chief is here again, sitting outside the clinic on the dried-mud ledge built around the trunk of a tree.  When he saw me, he respectfully srood up, took my hand in both of his, and gave me a reverential bow.  I returned his respects likewise, which has become second nature.  I brought him over to the solar oven set up on the sunny side of the parking lot.  Faiyaz had already loaded it with a pot of raw rice ready to cook.  So I lined up the oven to the sun, set the reflectors and started the cooking process, while the chief watched with noncommittal interest.  

     Meanwhile, Chris entered his new tiger poem into my computer, which he wrote last night:

 

T i g e r ’s  S o n g 

by Christopher Lindstrom

Dedicated to Anthony Marr and all others on his mission

 

Today I jumped into the jungle with a group of friends,

Whose desire I share, to guard all forest lands.

A misty magic morning warmed up by the sun,

Green and blue, bright life images reflected in the ponds.

A call across the meadow beckoned us that way,

A sharp eye discovered something I live for everyday.

 

Today I saw a tigress in all her majesty,

Marching through the jungle without an eye on me.

Powerful cat of the forest strolling through the trees,

Crossed the road to grassy plains drifting away like a silent breeze.

Stunned, bewildered, we shivered, without a care as she went,

Out of our sight disappearing, a powerful message had been sent.

 

Today I lived a dream, I think of others that’ll come like me,

To India’s great jungle where tigers still roam free.

This illusion made me happy but I know that it’s not true,

For this great cat lies in danger everyday being killed two by two.

There are people who want their bodies and parts for easy gain,

A quick dollar they’re looking for in this evil black market game.

 

This symbol of a country and a rich forest land,

Will disappear overnight without some special plan.

So give them a place to live with people who understand,

That all life in the forest is sacred in Mother Nature’s plan.

For our ancestors there were many, today only a few,

Their finite numbers dwindling, so much for us to do…

 

If tomorrow we’ll see a tigress in all her majesty,

Think of all the others that’ll come to live this dream.

For in the future lies one question,

What will there be to see, in India’s great forests

Where the great cat still roams free.

 

[22:37]     I discussed with Faiyaz, Anne and Chris this evening about equipping the medical clinic with a microscope as a medical as well as educational tool.  The villagers could then see the micro-organisms for themselves.  We could set up a display booth on the side showing the role micro-organisms play in diseases, including the parasitic malarial amoeba. 

     “We could also set up a micro-biology display for the children at the free school,” Anne suggested.

     “That’s a great idea!” enthused Faiyaz. 

     “To show them both the nonsocial and social unicellular organisms.” I added, sitting back a bit to wait for a bite.

     Faiyaz froze a moment in thought, then took the bait, “Social unicellular organism?  Is there any such thing?  All the unicellular organisms – bacteria, amoebae, paramecium, diatoms… are non-social.  I have never seen the term ‘social unicellular organism’ in a biology text book, nor heard it mentioned in a biology class.  Did you just make it up?”

     “I think by ‘social unicellular organism’ Anthony is referring to the body cells of a multicellular organism, such as those of a dragonfly” said Chris.

     “I know, but they’re just body cells.  They’re not self-sufficient organisms,” Faiyaz persisted.

     “Why don’t you do a vital functions test on them?” I suggested.

     “Okay.  I’ll try a human cell.”  A moment’s thought.  “A muscle cell satisfies all eight vital functions, but a brain cell and a red corpuscle satisfy only seven of the eight, since they cannot reproduce.  And while a white blood corpuscle has the power of movement, a cell in a leaf has not.  So…”

     “You are naming exceptions that prove the rule,” I said back to him.  “Often, seven out of eight would suffice.  Most plants have little or no power of movement, but we all know that plants are organisms.  And worker and soldier termites, ants, bees - they can’t reproduce either,.  But isn’t a termite an organism?”

     “You got me there, Anthony.”

     “Finally, does the sociality of the termites disqualify them from being considered bona fide organisms?  And how about us human, who are social multicellular organism?”

     “I see you point, Anthony,” said Faiyaz.  “I agree with you now.  Just as my sociality does not disqualify me from being a bona fide multicellular organism, the sociality of my body cells does not disqualify them to be bona fide unicellular organism.  .  And so, I, a multicellular organism, am a society of trillions of social unicellular organisms.”

     “By the way, what species of social multicellular organism do you belong to?” Raminothna asked Faiyaz through me.

     “Homo sapiens.”

     “And what cellular species do your body cells belong to?”

     “Homo sapiens,” said my species-mate Faiyaz Khudsar.

 

      

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