Umbongo

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I hate the phrase 'killing time', it seems such an affront to life, but we had 4 days left in Kathmandu before our flight to Bangkok and we needed a suitable contrast to our Everest trek. Since our return we had eaten enough steak to offend a great many Hindus, and we had realised that there are only so many times a street vendor can approach you and offer to sell you a huge wooden flute before you really start to wonder if perhaps you do need one. It was definitely time for a change of scene.

Royal Chitwan National Park was established in 1973 - before that time it was the royal hunting grounds for kings and dignitaries, and the visiting British from India enjoyed big game safari in its grounds. Many wild tigers, bears, elephants and rhinos were lost as bloody trophies before the nepalese wised up and started protecting such precious assets. Nowadays Chitwan plays host to swathes of tourists keen to spy as many beasts as they can.

We arrive to the region after 6 hours on a bus from the capital. We are on the same tour as an australian couple - Shani and Rhett - who we first met tired and blistered (us not them) on the way down from our Everest trek. There are also two gregarious german guys - Wolfgang and Mattheus - and an incredibly meek, very sweet girl from Taiwan called Rachel. The park is situated in subtropical lowland jungle which means the days are balmy and warm - very welcome after the encroaching cool days and cooler nights of Kathmandu. We are staying at a lodge outside the park in Sauraha.

Our guide for our jungle walk solemnly tells us about health and safety. His words sound dangerously exotic. If you see a rhino, climb a tree. If you can’t climb a tree, find a big one and hide behind it. If there are no trees, run in large zigzag lines as rhinos are rather bulky (in case you hadn’t noticed) and find it difficult to suddenly change direction. They have a great sense of smell but poor eyesight so throw something onto the floor and the rhino will pause to sniff your scent giving you valuable seconds to scarper. However when faced with a sloth bear all the rules change. Don’t climb a tree, sloth bears are agile climbers and you could find yourself with some unwelcome company. Instead gather into a group and make a helluva noise. Tigers, we were reliably informed always attack from behind. If you see a tiger, maintain eye contact and slowly back away. Don’t scream or make any noise.

This little pep talk got us all very excited. Our little group imagined that we would be seeing all sorts of wildlife and even felt a bit nervy about venturing in to the great unknown. Sadly despite the enthusiasm of our guide and much crouching in the dirt and hiding in bushes, our comments never surmounted beyond “are the chickens here wild?” “ah, another deer”, “uh huh, more peacocks”, “oh a mongoose”. To be fair we saw a few crocs and various birds but what we had really been dying to see - the greater one-horned rhinoceros - proved rather too shy for our liking (wise behaviour I suppose when you are on the endangered animals list). As for the tigers and sloth bears, we knew they were nocturnal so hadn’t expected any sightings. Unfortunately for us, everyone else we spoke to had seen at least one rhino. We tried not to take this personally. However there were about 400 in the park so we were a little unlucky to not even spy one.

We did however experience an elephant safari - the best way to spot wildlife in the park. Blackpenny was a 45 year old cow. We climbed onboard with the help of a mounting block the height of a small house. Her driver climbed onboard by standing in front of her, pulling her ears across her eyes and standing on her trunk, whereupon Blackpenny dutifully lifted her master so he could scramble up to sit behind her ears. I would like to get all wistful about the symbiosis between man and beast, the unspoken respect between man and a creature so strong and dignified. Sadly, the driver ruled Blackpenny with harsh words oft spoken, a fat stick delivered seemingly randomly between the ears and a cruel looking metal hook. At one stage Blackpenny got a bit cheesed off with such callous commands and refused to walk on, making very loud, very unhappy elephant noises. Driver responded with metal hook to soft flesh near ears and that was the end of that. Now I am all for driver maintaining control of the enormous beast that I happen to be astride, and elephant training is something I know less about than rhino spotting. I reason that if elephants are anything like horses, there is no way a puny human (even one with scary arsenal) could bully them into doing things they really don't want to do. Their spirit is just too strong. Relatively speaking even a giant thwack from a big stick can only register on the thick hide of an elephant as an annoyance rather than a pain. The metal hook is a little harder to justify, it drew blood and that usually indicates some level of misery. But Blackpenny prevailed and did her bit, in 3 hours she never faltered or stumbled, she was steadfast and sure. She felled small trees that were in her way on command, reversed, completed a very neat 3 point turn in amazingly little space and even picked up the baseball cap that another passenger dropped. I couldn't call her a happy soul, but then she is in captivity. But it is truly incredible to see the world from between an elephant’s ears and a big thankyou (and bunch of bananas) to Blackpenny for that.

In case you are wondering, Elephants are infinitely more comfortable than camels. Which is not to say that they are in anyway comfy, it is all a relative thing you understand.

As I mentioned before we had signed up for a tour (3 days, 2 nights). This invariably means that you will find yourself involved in activities that a more independent traveller would steer well clear of. The words ‘cultural programme’ on any itinerary strikes fear into my heart. I am all for happening across festivals and enjoying the dancing and singing that follows, but I have been to too many ‘just for tourist’ events that have been long and painful evenings involving lots of stick banging dances and arrhythmic drums. But I am happy to be proved wrong and I must say that we passed a very entertaining evening at the local Tharu cultural centre in Sauraha. The main comedian was a guy whose job was to introduce the various dances and explain the pertinent facts. His grasp of English was not actually too bad but his delivery was so incredibly fast it was impossible to understand anymore than every 10th word. Every time he took to centre stage the audience would wait with baited breath for some fragment of a word to hang the rest of the sentence onto in a vain effort to understand what on earth this man was talking about. To no avail. The dances themselves did indeed involve sticks and drums but the young men involved performed with such enthusiasm and joy that it was impossible not to enjoy it too. A real treat was the guy in the peacock suit (resplendent with expanding tail feathers) performing a mating dance. The final piece was a human courtship dance, one guy had definitely drawn the short straw, he was the one in the sari, bad wig and stuffed bra. His partner was in a flowery housedress, had a Pinocchio style clown hat and what looked like icing sugar over his face. This bizarrely effeminate couple pranced around the stage for what seemed like an age and it was the funniest thing I have ever been called to witness. Steve is not a great person to sit next to when you are on the cliff edge of extreme giggles. I am just thankful that the drumming was indeed very very loud and the room very very dark. No one will ever know the tears we cried as we watched the mincing. Of course the evening ended with the obligatory ritual humiliation of tourists who gamely jumped up on stage and tried to replicate the twists and turns of the experts. This section always seems to go on for way too long, and you can see something die in the eyes long before the music ends and escape is possible. Needless to say we did not blindly scamper up but chose to watch from the stalls.

Our last morning at Chitwan was a real gem. We visited the local elephant breeding centre where since 1984, 27 babies have been bred, 18 of which have survived. We discovered all sorts of fascinating elephant facts (the gestation period for an elephant cow is approx 22 months, a newborn can weigh 100kg, elephant loving usually lasts about 60 seconds) and got to see the babies up close. Baby elephants are very mischievous and highly playful. They have absolutely no qualms about racing right up to tourists and head butting them. Even in the midst of such violence they are utterly adorable and very funny to watch. The youngest we saw was only a few months old, and still in the process of working out exactly how his legs worked. He became very territorial about the trench in front of his stable and would chase out anyone who ventured there. However once in the trench he was stuck and had to wriggle back up the bank through a combination of head stand and muddy doggy paddle. His antics were undoubtedly the highlight of the tour.

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Photos

Thankyou, Chitwan
Sorry about the beatings

Elephant wrestling, Chitwan
A lesser known sport admittedly but with a growing fan base . . .

Headstand coming up, Chitwan
Undoubtedly the star of the show . . .

Comments

[Anne]

I am thoroughly enjoying your journals and am taking notes for our trip to Nepal this coming year.Thank you for the entertaining stories and information. Great photos too.

[Martine]

Fantastic Choice Anne
We really loved Nepal. Such a beautiful country and a very accessible size. Easy to see real extremes even within a short schedule. We wish we had had the time (and energy) to see some of the Annapurna circuit or to go to Pokara. But maybe another time on another trip . . . Enjoy your hols. Martine