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Published: February 18th 2010
The alarm went off at 5am, and I dragged myself down the stairs and into the restaurant for some Indian style breakfast and tea. Camera, glasses, and the warmest amount of clothing layers I could muster in tow, our 20-seater cantor arrived at 6:45am to take us deep into the scrub forest of Ranthambore National Park for our tiger safari. There was only one problem: I wasn’t actually there to meet it. After waiting for 15 minutes in the lobby for a cantor that hadn’t arrived, I decided that I would run up to my room for a last chance potty break before our 4 hour journey. Once I got there, however, the result of lots of black tea and early morning Indian food became apparent, and I suddenly had to take longer than expected. I could hear the cantor arrive, yet I just sat, increasingly stressed by the second about missing my safari or, worse, having 19 other people wait for me so I didn’t have to. Finally, I was able to finish my business and jettisoned out the door and down the stairs with lightening speed. “Room 108?!?” the man at reception said with an equally rushed and
exasperated look on his face. “Yes!” I yelled back while running to the cantor. Panting, I jumped inside and took the last empty seat. I looked around to assess the feeling of the group. No one seemed impressed with me or my last minute need to answer nature’s call.
Once we arrived in the park we took the route to zone 5, the last of the 5 possible zones in this truly massive park; we drove for four hours and didn’t cover most of the dirt roads possible in our single zone. The first animal we saw was the Samba Deer, which are moose-sized beasts that move in herds and are the favorite food of tigers. Our view was up close and personal because animals in the park are used to seeing cantors and jeeps (strictly confined to the dirt roads) and are thus not afraid of humans. I took out my camera and started snapping away photos of the deer, awestruck by their size and majesty. The 60’s something gentleman sitting next to me with a massive professional camera just sat there with a mildly bored expression and watched me go to town. “You don’t like the deer?”
I said. “No, its just that this is my 4th safari and I’ve gotten picky. I’ve seen tigers twice so far, you know. Once in the zone we’re heading into now.” “Nice!” I said, excited at my elevated prospects. “Where are you from?” “Europe. A country called Norway,” he said in a way that seemed as though he was expecting me to return a blank stare. I decided not to be offended by the assumed ignorance of basic geography on my part and continued talking to him. Turns out he was a fascinating fellow that’s traveled all over the world and was happy to share his insights. “I’ve been to the States 5 times,” he said. “I have to say I think the best city in America is New Orleans. But I went before the tragedy of Hurricane Katrina.” “Oh,“ I said. “Well have you heard of the Super Bowl?” He replied that he hadn’t. “It’s the biggest annual sporting event in America, and New Orleans’ team just made it for the first time,” I went on. “They won!” “Oh,” he said, seeming a little confused by my enthusiasm. “New Orleans witnessed some of the worst that America has to
offer following Katrina.” I continued in an explanatory manner. “I feel like our response to what happened was kind of a black mark on our recent history as a country. To win the super bowl, especially for the first time, brings great pride to the city. Everyone in New Orleans is very proud right now." “Oh, I see. That’s very good for them” he said, as he sat back I his chair and pondered for a bit.
We talked for a while longer about a number of things, but one part of the conversation and one thing that he said particularly stood out in my mind. He brought up a story about hiking through the Amazon in Brazil and Ecuador. “When I was visiting an indigenous tribe in Ecuador, the main thing they were worried about was the American oil companies,” he told me. “So that Americans can maintain their high standard of living the companies were taking tribal people’s land. They were paying off the governments to turn a blind eye or even orchestrate the killing of their people by the military. Everyone was afraid.” We discussed and exchanged names of a few different books and other outlets
that describe things like this that are happening all over the world, and he asked why more Americans didn’t care about such things. “Americans are good at heart,” I said. “They want to do the right thing for their families and communities. But life is so fast-paced and crammed with MTV, tabloids, and commercials that it’s hard to sift through all the garbage. The information is available,” I said, before he finished my sentence with “but their worlds will shatter if they seek it.” These are conversations and debates that I often have over cocktails with my young American friends back home. To have a similar discussion with 60 year old foreigner was somehow both humbling and invigorating, and I won’t forget it.
The rest of the journey was really peaceful. It was bizarre to be in such openness, without seeing one piece of garbage or another person outside of my vehicle for hours. I tried to soak in the calm as much as I could, but between the insightful Norwegian and the repeated jumping around trying to catch photos of wildlife, it was a little difficult. In the end, I took a morning and evening safari and spotted
two types of deer, male and female peacocks, antelope, jackals, monkeys, numerous birds, squirrels, and a mongoose. Alas, I saw no tigers.
After having to call the staff the next morning to let me out of my shiftily-locked room, I took a cab to the train station for my 12:20 departure. At 2:20, my train finally arrived. I was starving during the wait. “Pakora!! Pakora, pakora, pakora!” I heard someone pulling a hand-drawn cart yelling so loud that it was almost indistinguishable. Pakora, I had learned from my questionable menu and subsequent Google search the night before, is a spicy deep fried vegetable and batter combination that results in tangy balls with mystery veggie parts poking out of the sides. “I could go for some of that,” I thought, and observed a number of patrons make the transaction first so that I could follow protocol. During my stakeout I noticed a bird fly down on top of one of the two piles of pakora before flying off with his prize. Hopeful that I got the non-bird sampled pile, I finally walked over to the vendor. “One,” I said. He pulled off a square of newspaper, dug his bare hands
into the pile of non-bird sampled veggie balls (hooray!), and threw them into the center. “You want?” he asked as he pointed to a bowl of diced chilies next to the pakora. “Sure,” I said. I love spicy stuff, so what’s the harm? Turns out there’s a bit of harm involved. “Holy mother!” I thought while I swallowed one of the chilies whole. I immediately downed some of the water I had purchased alongside my chilies, but to no avail. “Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap,“ I thought as I looked around desperately for salvation. Conveniently, there was another vendor passing by at that very moment screaming “Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!” Amazed at my luck, I ran over and unwrapped and swallowed my butterscotch drumstick as quickly as possible. “Ahhhh..” I thought, reveling in the heavenly feeling it brought to my throat. This was, of course, all done keeping in mind that I was being stared at by no less than 20 people throughout the entire sequence of events. I tried as hard as I could to play it cool, but keeping a straight face while your esophagus incinerates is not as simple as one might think.
I’m on the train to Kota now, where I’ll be immediately catching a bus to my next destination, Bundi. I’m riding AC 2 Tier, which is how the Indian middle class travels. There’s a teenaged Indian boy on the bunk across from me playing his electric guitar and singing some of my favorite Foo Fighters, Green Day, and Rage songs. it’s quite impressive, really, and I’m a happy camper.
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Carl Chosa
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Carl Superbowl Champs Chosa
I've officially changed my name. I absolutely love your blogs, you need to put these in a book and make a million $$$$. Be safe and keep us informed.