By HEATHER RAMSAY
Our first calamitous day in India contained more bad experiences than my husband and I had accumulated in two decades of travelling. However, when we finally found a hotel room and the craziness ended, I felt a strange exhilaration, rather than exhaustion.
There was also a smug satisfaction, with any doubts about coping with a return to backpacking in middle age firmly laid to rest. Still, if anyone had told me then that our future would be inextricably linked to India, I would have laughed long and loud.
India tossed up other challenges during our four-month stay, but for the most part we travelled easily through a country of astounding diversity, where beauty and squalor and wealth and poverty often sat side by side.
Hospitable people welcomed us as we moved from the towering peaks of the Himalayas and the deserts of Rajasthan in the north, to the verdant rice paddies and palm-fringed golden beaches in the south.
Thousands of years of history oozed from ruined cities, forts, palaces and castles, while temples and holy places were steeped in the spirit of ancient religions.
India's cultural fabric is as rich and varied as its landscape. While the country is a secular democracy, religion pervades many aspects of daily life. Hinduism is the main religion, but many other religions, sects and sub-sects flourish.
Many Westerners come to India on a spiritual quest, but our Indian edification was not of the religious kind.
I had read Travels on my Elephant, by British author Mark Shand, about his adventures in India on an elephant named Tara. At the end of his travels, Tara was given to Bob and Anne Wright, who operated Kipling Camp in Kanha National Park.
Kanha and its animal inhabitants inspired Kipling's Jungle Book, and since those stories were childhood favourites, we put Kanha on our itinerary.
Still, India didn't conjure up images of wilderness.
Our visit to Kipling Camp changed that, instilling an enduring love of the Indian wilderness, and beginning our education on Indian conservation issues.
We rose early for our first Indian safari. It was cold, and scarves muffled our conversations as we bounced into the park in an open-top 4WD.
As the strengthening sun warmed our bodies, the animals of the park began to stir, but the main subject of our search, the mighty tiger, had been on the move long before sunrise. Now the sal forests and meadows provided camouflage, where animals could lie undetected metres from the track.
Kanha is part of Project Tiger, a nationwide programme to protect wild tigers., Protection of the tiger and its habitat means that other species also benefit, and our guides pointed out dhole (wild dogs), gaur (Indian bison), wild boar, jackal, hyena, langur monkeys, and various kinds of deer. Birdlife was prolific and India's national bird, the peacock, was the most stunning. The time between safaris was filled by riding Tara to the river, swimming with her and helping with her daily bath.
Kipling Camp is a magnet for conservationists from India and abroad. Poaching is a major threat, and the Wright's daughter Belinda gave up a successful career as a wildlife photographer and filmmaker to form the Wildlife Protection Society of India, which tackles the illegal wildlife trade head-on.
The society runs covert operations, using a network of informers to catch poachers trading in the skins, bones and claws that are used in Chinese medicine.
Global Tiger Patrol focuses on the people in the parks, and the London-based chairperson was at Kanha to set up a savings scheme for the forest guides. Other practical purchases, such as binoculars, vehicles, pullovers and balaclavas for the forest guards who patrol on freezing nights, are made to parks all over India.
In India, a little goes a long way and it was clear that donations through well-chosen non-government organisations could quickly reach needy recipients. This was reinforced by a chance meeting with wildlife expert and conservation campaigner, Harsh Vardhan, an encounter that was to set our course.
As a writer and speaker, Harsh knew that raising international awareness was important but he believed that firsthand experience was best.
Harsh could see a role for us, so he introduced us to grassroots conservationists. The tranquil wilderness had already captured our hearts, and now we were moved by India's other great resource - its people.
At Ranthambore National Park, we stayed in the humble home of a forest guide, where we would rise in the dark and join the other guides for their morning chai (tea). The talk was always of what had occurred the previous day and night, and where the best sightings might be.
Being a forest guide is a coveted position, and senses are honed to see the slightest movements, hear and identify the faintest sounds, spot a recent scratch mark on a tree or a pug mark on the track.
While in the evenings guides gathered around a battered cassette player to improve their skills and identify taped bird calls, in the darkness beyond, forest guards continued their difficult and dangerous job.
Guards live in isolated, rudimentary accommodation for weeks, patrolling day and night either on foot or bicycle. If anything suspicious is noted, they must bike to the nearest camp that has a wireless.
Thousands of resident and migratory birds make the wetlands of Keoladeo Ghana National Park a stunning place, but it was Harsh's "barefoot ornithologists" that made our visit special.
They come from villages around the park and have inherited traditional knowledge about nature and the park's ecology.
As far back as 2500 BC there is evidence of a commitment to preserving nature, and animals and plants retain an exalted place in society. We saw this ancient lore at the Bishnoi villages near Jodhpur.
For 400 years the Bishnoi sect has followed a doctrine that protects flora and fauna to the point of self-sacrifice. There are many instances where Bishnoi have given their lives.
The best-known was in 1730 AD when 363 men, women and children were slaughtered when they wrapped themselves around sacred Khejri trees to prevent them from being hacked down for fuel.
Today Bishnoi follow the same teachings, and each household puts aside grain to feed gazelle and blackbuck in times of drought, just as the residents of the tiny village of Kichan give a proportion of their millet to feed thousands of demoiselle cranes.
These migratory birds have returned annually for centuries, and are hand-fed during their six-month stay. Contributions from distant benefactors bolster the supplies, and when we offered to pay an elder for the fresh, light chapatis that were provided for lunch, he waved his hands in protest. "Give to the birds," he said.
We maintain close contacts with Harsh and others we met on that first visit to India, and here in New Zealand we endeavour to raise awareness of India, and conservation in particular.
We have taken two groups of New Zealanders to India to visit the places and meet the people we know and love. This has helped us to donate funds directly to wildlife preservation but, best of all, some group members have also developed an affinity for the subcontinent and have held photographic exhibitions and given speaking engagements.
Now India has touched hundreds more New Zealand lives, and we have helped Indians involved in a battle for survival.
Getting there: Auckland - Delhi fares start at $1775. Call your preferred travel agent.
National parks: Some national parks are closed at certain times of year, and permits are required to visit some parks. Parks are often closed during the middle of the day to allow animals to rest. Wildlife viewing is better later in the season when the vegetation dies down. Accommodation can range from a rudimentary hide to a maharaja's palace.
When to go: The best time to visit is the cool, dry season from October to March.
Tourism of India
* Contact the writer: heathden@ihug.co.nz
Wildlife saviours in India
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