While my family and friends in the U.S. were busy preparing for the Thanksgiving holiday, I was in Tamil Nadu helping school children prepare to become global citizens. With my roommate, and buddy, Ahmed, in tow, we headed to Madumalai, a tiger preserve in the shadow of the Ooti mountains to volunteer teach and take in a nature safari. None of the credit belongs to me, except for the few photos I snapped along the way.
We departed from Bangalore’s Majestic bus terminal just after 11pm and, to everyone’s surprise, we arrived in Madumalai ahead of schedule at 4am. As remote of a destination as it was, this posed a bit of a problem. No could come round to pick us up for several hours and more urgently, the area was known to be inhabited by wild tigers. Elephants too roamed the area at night, and I was desperate to see either species, but it was not to be. There was no cell phone reception and no one we could call if we did have service, so we hunkered down on the stone benches outside the wilderness safari ticket booth, wrapping bodies tightly as a brace against the cold night air. I desperately wanted to see one of the area’s wild elephants of tigers, carnivorous or not, but it was not to be.
At 6 am, the first jeep of the morning arrived to cart our chilly bones at to a research station where we to stay for the night. At the research station forestry and wildlife scientists from India and the U.S. were engaged in the study of the area’s elephants, plant life and, upon our arrival, breakfast. I can’t say enough about how spectacular the cook was. Deceptively simple, his meals of boiled beans, sliced beets and loads or rice were some of the best I have had. If you put a pot of his sambar in front of me now, I would probably devour the whole thing! Restored in body and mind after some idli, and a potent tumbler of tea, we ventured out to the first of two school, in Mavanala.
While the signboard in front of the school said it was a “tribal” school, I was unable to discern anything about the school or its pupils that would differentiate them from other students I have taught in Bangalore. The schools we visited were Tamil, meaning that instruction happens in Tamil, however, I was greeted by hearty shouts of , “Hello, how are you?” from students as soon as we pulled up at the school’s gate.
For the rest of the day in Mavanala, we taught lessons on the heart and circulatory system, introductory physics, the climate cycle and geography. Bolstered by powerpoint presentations and some prizes, I found the students to be sharp, eager and boisterous. By the end of the day, I was extremely exhausted and feeling ill, but when we returned home, I had a serious case of the warm fuzzies.
The next morning we went to another school on the opposite side of the Madumalai tiger reserve. As we drove to the school, we passed an elephant handler riding atop an enormous, lumbering tusker. Nothing about the brief encounter seemed out of the ordinary, which underscores what a remarkable and multifaceted country India is.
The day’s lesson proceeded along the same lines as before. Ahmed, who had taken a shine to teaching, fired off his presentation about the heart and lungs with aplomb. And, to everyone’s surprise, the children had a decent grasp on medical procedures that flew completely over my head. If we simply believe in children’s abilities, there is no limit to their level accomplishment.
Beyond interacting with the children, the most exciting thing for me was the fact that we were in a truly wild habitat. Much of the area was heavily degraded due to farming and human activity, but the ecosystem was still robust enough to support h erds of wild elephants and as many as 30 roaming tigers. The existence of these animals is nothing short of a miracle in the face of India’s colossal population and mammoth density of human settlement. The preservation of elephant and tiger populations in India matter of national pride, though urgent attention is needed. Both species are extremely threatened in the wild, and I hope I never live to see the day when they no longer exist outside of zoos.
On a nature safari after our first day of teaching, our bus stopped when Ahmed spotted a wild tiger sunning itself near the road. While I caught a glimpse of the luxuriant predator, my view was blocked when we stopped directly in front of a tree. I snapped away with my camera, but the resulting photos are embarrassing. Abuzz with excitement, we stopped at an elephant camp where the handlers were shoving giant mounds of rice, and goodies into the gaping mouths of the joyous elephants. Beneath the giant’s feet, a pack of hefty wild boars jockeyed for scraps as the handlers tried in vain to shoo them away.
As if this were not enough of a thrill for an interloper like myself, we passed a herd of wild elephants grazing by the roadside on our way back to the research station. Who could ask for more?
