My Mudumalai Experience - Feb 13-22
Monday, February 12 was the all Karnataka bandh, when nothing would be running. One of the options was to leave Bangalore on Tuesday morning, by the KSRTC bus, at 10 a.m. which would get me to Mudumalai by around 4 p.m. or so. But in the event that there was trouble in Mandya, a very volatile region about 40 kms before Mysore on the route to Mudumalai, the bus would be delayed and it would be dark by the time I reached the forest. Since it was my first time coming here, I didn't want to land here in the dark.
The other option was to leave Bangalore on Monday night by the train which would take me to Coimbatore from where I would have to take a bus to Ooty and then another bus down to Mudumalai. This would be an extremely circuitous trip which would result in 12 hour plus journey from Bangalore to Mudumalai.
So I decided to go to Mysore and stay in my cousin's house on Sunday night and then leave Mysore on Tuesday morning. I left Bangalore on Sunday evening by the 6 p.m. train and reached Mysore a little after 9 p.m. I waited out the bandh in Mysore on Monday in my cousin's house and left by the 9 a.m. bus on Tuesday. I was here at the field station in Masinagudi by 11:45 a.m.
Masinagudi is a small village enclave surrounded by the national park on all sides. At 960 meters above sea level, the weather is almost identical to the weather in Bangalore although it is slightly drier. To the south, I can see the Nilgiris hills rising another 1500 meters above my current elevation. Its now about mid-February and typical February weather at this elevation means hot days and chilly nights. Generally, high temps reach about 32-33 degrees during the day and drop to 16-17 degrees at night.
Anyway, let me get to the wildlife now:
Chital (spotted deer) - I first spotted these animals on the bus soon after we entered the park limits and I've seen them on every excursion out into the forest since then.
On my first excursion, we left the field station at about 3:30 p.m. on Feb 13. As soon as we got onto the interior forest roads, we came across some langurs hopping from tree to tree. A little later on, we stumbled on a large herd of elephants. Unfortunately for us, they were downwind of us and smelled us. As soon as we came into view, they retreated into the cover. We spent more than 90 minutes in the area waiting for them to come out into the open but the wind kept shifting and they kept getting our scent (elephants have very poor eyesight, pretty good hearing, and an excellent sense of smell). The researcher who I was going with climbed some trees to get some views of the elephants and he said it was a large herd with some 10-15 animals, including calves. We only got to get a good look at about three of them though.
We waited around until 6:30 p.m. after which it got too dark to take any discernable photographs and left the scene. Before we left the scene, at around 6 p.m. we were waiting in the forest surrounded by thick cover on both sides. To our left, we could hear the elephants rustling and to our right we heard a langur give an alarm call, subsequent to which a tiger called. Unfortunately, we couldn't see anything because of the cover, which as you can imagine was extremely frustrating.
Now I've been talking about the cover. Mudumalai National Park has a sharp rainfall gradient. The westernmost part receives more than 1700 mm of rainfall annually and is moist evergreen rainforest. The central and west central portions receive 900-1300 mm of rainfall annually and are mainly dry deciduous forest. The easternmost portion of the park lies in a rain shadow area and receives only about 600 mm of rainfall annually is dry thorn and scrub forest. On the afternoon of Feb 13, we were mainly in the west-central portion of the forest, in the dry deciduous habitat.
This habitat used to be covered with deciduous trees (shedding their leaves in the dry season) and grasses, which elephants feed on. In the years of 2001 and 2002, there was a severe drought which resulted in one particular weed taking over. The years following this saw heavy rainfall which caused this weed to die out but then another weed, lantana, took over. This lantana is what is predominant now. An exotic species, lantana grows to a height of more than 2 meters (~6.56 feet) and is very, very thick growth. It suppresses light and causes the grass to die out. Elephants do not eat lantana and find it somewhat difficult to navigate through. The ecological implications of the lantana explosion need to be determined in the coming years. A year or two of lesser than average rainfall (but not drought) will definitely curtail the lantana, since it needs a lot of water, while not allowing the drought-favoring weed to take over either. But anyway, because of this cover, it has made researchers' job a lot tougher.
The grass still covers some stretches of the forest; at one time, much of the forest used to look like this
By the way, tigers seem to love the lantana since they now have an amazing cover to stalk their prey. Lantana's effect on herbivores and tigers is another interesting topic to potentially explore. Anyway, in addition to the elephants, on my first excursion, I also saw a peacock, some other birds, and two mongooses crossing the road.
On the morning of February 14, we headed out into the scrub forest at around 8:00 a.m. This forest is an entire world different from where we were yesterday. Lantana was gone, but so were the tall trees and grasses. Some dry grasses were present, lots of stunted trees, as well as plenty of cacti. Yes, you heard me right, cacti. We had a very exciting morning in the scrub forest. We first saw a group of black bucks, part of a very small population in this park, and one came and went right across the road when the jeep was stopped. After this, we came across some more langurs, chital and then saw two black naped hares on separate occasions as they crossed the road. We were going along the Moyar River trying to catch elephants as they headed for a drink in the morning. Multiple times, we came across fresh dung and figured we had missed the elephants on some occasions by a matter of hours and on other occasions by a matter of minutes. My colleague got a phone call on one occasion and stopped the jeep and turned it off. While he was talking on his cell phone, a big male gaur (Indian bison) came out of the scrub jungle onto the road about 100 meters in front of us. With the jeep off, he must not have heard us. Gaur are extremely shy and though I moved quickly for my camera, he crossed the road and into the scrub before I could take a shot.
Further along, we saw some sambar deer as well, also an elusive, shy species. So basically, it was a good morning. We saw everything that resides there except leopard, elephant and sloth bear. Tigers do not prefer the scrub forest since there isn't much cover for them there.
We went back along the Moyar River around noon to try and see if we could see some elephants and again we saw dung. It's now almost 4 p.m. on Feb 14 and we are planning to go back to the same region of the forest later this evening at about 5 p.m., when we should have a fairly good chance of spotting the elephants along the river.
A view of the dry thorn forest
Black buck on the road
Sambar deer
I'm not going to write about what I saw each and every time I head out into the field since that would be too much trouble for me to write and for you to read. I'll just restrict myself to anything I happen to see which needs to be commented upon or if I do something out of the ordinary. Regarding the evening of February 14, I went out to the village of Moyar on the eastern edge of the sanctuary where one of my colleagues wanted to buy some farm fresh vegetables. Unfortunately, the farmer usually doesn't get customers on his farm and he didn't have a balance with him to weigh, so we couldn't get any. But let me talk a little bit of Moyar village. It is a prosperous farming village (the villagers seem quite well off, relative to farmers in other villages I've seen at least). Though in a rain shadow area surrounded by scrub jungle (the village receives less than 700 mm of rainfall annually), irrigation from the Moyar River keeps the fields green. But the main thing about the village is the breathtaking scenery. Land from Moyar drops gently down until it rises sharply to meet the Nilgiris, which run east to west as far as the eye can see. And in the soft orange glow of a cool February evening, you might as well be in paradise.
Anyway, while going to Moyar, we saw a herd of elephants, including two calves, but since we were directly opposite the light, we couldn't get any good photographs. While returning from Moyar, we saw a big tusker on the opposite side of the irrigation canal. We approached on foot (since there was a water body separating us, we were safe). He saw me, tried to retreat into the forest, but couldn't because there was a steep cliff right behind him. He quickly spun around and adopted a threatening posture, curling his trunk inwards and kicking the earth with his leg. He then realized that I couldn't get to him because of the canal and started walking across the canal. In the meantime, someone motioned to an elephant crossing the canal using a bridge about 50 meters from us, so we walked back to the jeep. The fading light of the evening (it was past 6:30 p.m. when I saw the tusker and the sun had set almost half an hour ago) prevented us from getting any good close ups of the animals on the road.
On the morning of February 15, I went up to Ooty to get my research permit from the Wildlife Warden, whose office is there. Ooty is about 30-odd kilometers from where I am staying and the easiest way to get there is by the Kallatty-Sigur Road. This is one of the steepest roads I've gone on. It consists of 36 hairpin bends, where in a distance of about 12 kilometers you rise about 1.2 kilometers. So for every kilometer you travel, you're going up by 100 meters. That's phenomenal! I am staying at an elevation of 960 meters above sea level and Ooty is at an elevation of 2200 meters above sea level. The train station at Ooty (Udagamandalam is the full, tamil name of the town) is the highest station in south India and may be the highest train station in India. I have to check on this when I get back to Bangalore. On the way back down, I took some photographs on hairpin bends 3 and 15, which are among the best views. Hairpin bend 3 is at an elevation of about 2000 meters above sea level and hairpin bend 15 is at an elevation of about 1700 meters above sea level.
I met the wildlife warden for Mudumalai, who is interested in my project, which looks at elephant-traffic interactions within the sanctuary. He said he was particularly interested in my project since there is increasing pressure to widen the highway within the sanctuary and so far he has been able to oppose it. If it were to be scientifically found that existing traffic is disturbing elephants within the sanctuary, it would be able to help his case against expansion. As anywhere, construction and road widening under the name of "development" is big bucks in India. A significant portion of the money is embezzled by contractors, politicians, and innumerable other sources. It's amazing, as you drive down from Ooty and leave the last hairpin bend, the road is a smooth two lane highway through the Singara Reserve Forest. As soon as you enter the Mudumalai Wildlife Sanctuary, it becomes a one and a half lane, bumpy road. Again, entering Masinagudi village limits, it becomes a two lane highway. Leaving the village, it goes back to the narrower lane. The one and a half lane highway ensures that when two cars traveling in opposite directions come across each other, they must both slow down and have to go offroad a little to pass by each other. It also deters motorists from traveling through the sanctuary and use other roads. Proponents of the widening argue that road widening will bring economic development and animals such as elephants and deer will have no issue in crossing the road. Well, that's what I will be looking at in the next few months. Exactly how does the road impact elephants?
Anyway, on the way up to Ooty, I learned a great deal of the Indian Civil Services from my colleague. To be in the Civil Services, IAS (Indian Administrative Services), IPS (Indian Police Services), and IFS (Indian Forest Services), you have to take the respective exams after graduation. In these highly competitive exams, those who make it within the 40th rank get to choose the state of their posting (and many choose their home state). After the 40th rank, the officers are assigned on an alphabetical basis based on their name as well as the alphabetical order of the states. So thus, I pity the person who ends up serving in a state such as Bihar. These postings are lifetime postings, with the exception of 5 years which a person may serve under the Central Government in New Delhi.
I'm going to take the example of the wildlife warden of Mudumalai to describe how this works. Let's say that this person was assigned / chose Tamil Nadu as his posting. He usually serves for roughly 10 years at the division level. The division level would include something such as Mudumalai Wildlife Sanctuary and National Park Division, or Singara Reserve Forest Division (just south of Mudumalai on the Ooty road), etc. In his 10 years at the division level, an officer usually serves in about three divisions, staying in each place for about 3-4 years. They may be adjacent divisions or they may be in opposite corners of the state.
After 10 years, the officer would be promoted to Circle level. Mudumalai comes under the Coimbatore Circle, which also includes Singara Division, Coimbatore North Division, Anaimalai Wildlife Sanctuary Division, etc. Again, in this time, the officer usually serves at least in two circles, probably three.
After about 10 years at the circle level, the officer is promoted to the State level where in the case of Tamil Nadu, they would be posted to Madras where they would serve posts such as Chief Wildlife Warden or Principal Chief Conservator of Forests. Combined with five years deputed at the Central Government, this includes roughly 35 years of service. Since most people usually join the civil services only by the age of 26-27, roughly 35 years of service translates into retirement at 61-62 years age. As you can see, the Indian Civil Services is very hierarchical and very structured. The alphabetically based posting ensures that anyone from any state can be posted to any state, which I personally think does a great deal for national integrity. I've met two civil services officers so far, one in the IAS and the other from the IFS, and both are from Uttar Pradesh and have been posted to Tamil Nadu.
They have been bound to another corner of the country for a lifetime and in this time, they will certainly absorb a lot of this very different culture here as well as give a lot. And as I discussed at a class at Drexel, compared to places like Africa, India has done a lot, lot, lot better job in conserving its wildlife and natural environment. African countries complain about overpopulation, but India's population density is about ten times that of Africa as a whole. Even taking the vast emptiness of the Sahara into account, India has a lot more people in a lot less area. We were trying to think of reasons for this and we eventually decided upon a combination of a culture that respects nature as well as political will (that great savior of Indian wildlife, late-Prime Minister Indira Gandhi), but more so on a very structured and codified civil services, which is very competitive and attracts the most dedicated. It is this, backbone of Indian government that has kept it from degenerating into a banana country like so many other countries in Asia and Africa.
And no, this post is not to suck up to any particular officer in the Indian administration. I really do appreciate the civil services, despite all their numerous faults (major egos, bureaucratic red tape, etc).
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The day before I came back to Bangalore for the weekend, I had some good luck in the field. In the morning, I witnessed a forest fire. Unlike in North America, there are no natural forest fires in India. Every single fire has been lit by man and there are dozens of these in Mudumalai alone annually. Some are small and some are large. I thought the one I witnessed was large, but the locals tell me that it was actually pretty small compared to some that get lit deep in the forest. This one happened right next to the road and was spotted immediately by the Forest Department.
Anyway, I asked my tracker why the villagers light these fires. Apparently sometimes it's in an attempt to catch deer within the burning lantana bushes or grasslands so that the antlers can be poached at a later time. EDIT 08/11/07: I've also heard that ever since the forest department started suppressing fires starting a decade ago, tribal villagers light them clandestinely because they believe that fires are good for the forest. As for whether they actually are, the jury is out. Personally, I would think that since these fires have been happening for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years, the ecosystem would have adapted to them by now.
Anyway, what I was really shocked about was seeing the forest department staff handle the fire. They had none of the safety equipment or fire fighting equipment common in the West. No flame retardant clothing, no fire fighting sprays, no helicopter backup, nothing which would be even the minimum in the developed world. Instead, they were in their cotton clothes, near flames that sometimes leaped up the branches of trees, trying to beat the fire down with bushes. And no, there is no concept of hazard pay in India either. For this life threatening, tedious labor in the hot midday sun, they make 80 rupees per day, which works out to roughly $1.78. It really goes to show that when you have one billion people, the value of a single human life really does not exist.
Later on that evening, I saw my first complete elephant group. They came up to the road, looked around, saw no traffic and crossed, making sure the calves were safe beneath their feet. I saw the same behavior in humans yesterday crossing the road in Bangalore where all the children were safely within the group. This is why I love elephants, my favorite animal. To repeat my oft-mentioned statement, they are like humans, without the evil.
Anyway, I'm back to Mudumalai tonight and I will be there for three to four weeks. So expect the next blog posting then.