Where The Wild Things Are? The Jim Corbett National Park, India

This post comes courtesy of India expert Dianne Sharma -Winter

Jim Corbett National Park, India

Having been cocooned in the capable hands of the staff at two of the resorts managed by Habitat Hotels in the Jim Corbett National Park in India recently, I was less than prepared for what Happened Next.
Two days at the dreamily remote Riverine Resort deep in the Ramganga jungle ended abruptly with an early morning call that was still actually night. The monsoon had arrived and swollen the river too much for the jeep to collect us, which meant we needed to set off at three thirty in the morning and walk to the road in order to make our date with our final Safari into the Park.

Sleep walking through the jungle and two river crossings under a dark post monsoon sky, I find myself singing. I can only attribute this predawn joy to the post Riverine experience and not for fear of any wild animal. The last two days of pristine wilderness had quietly seeped into my blood stream; I was madly magically at one with nature.

A jeep from the Resort is waiting to take us to our final Corbett Park safari, a Canter Safari to Dikhila. We travel in the early morning light watching the forest awake and surprising the odd spotted deer grazing on greenery by the roadside. I think of Jim Corbett and imagine that his spirit still roams these hills. It is all so exquisitely pristine and other worldly that its hard to imagine I am not dreaming. Little did I know then that my dreamy idyll was about to suffer a very rude awakening.

By 5am we have joined the crowds of people milling about at the park entry gate. A few things other than poetry and love of Mother Nature begin to come together in my mind.
First: that I needed caffeine.
“NO” says the guy at the chai shop when I ask.
Fifty people are sitting around drinking chai so I figure it’s a reasonable request.
“No? Why? You sell chai don’t you?”
“No chai No Milk” he says abruptly and turns away.
I go to the gate and look along the roadside. No alternative chai shops. That’s when I notice that the lovely people from our hotel were Outside the gate and we were Inside.
“What’s happening?” I ask the driver who is on the other side of the wires. I suddenly feel like someone in an institution, gaunt instantly and probably pale too.
“The truck is late,” he said.
“We are going with them?” I point to the large family groups full of children of crying age and other noise making abilities.
He has the grace to look sympathetic; I understand suddenly what is happening.

Unlike our previous ventures into the park and the buffer zone areas, we had just handed our bodies and souls, our hopes and our dreams of seeing one of the few remaining tigers left (1200 is a rough ‘official estimate’,) in India to the Park Management. It’s a sobering thought. Worse, the truck is late. The very slim window of opportunity to catch sight of the cats in the early morning light has slammed shut.

While we wait for the staff to catch up with the tourists, I go to the ablutions block.
There are no doors on the toilets and they are as filthy as a roadside dhaba in darkest Bihar. I decide to Hold On, risking a burst bladder seems a lot more hygienic than touching anything here. Instead I go back and mill around aimlessly while the sun rises in the sky and the day heats up.
Finally, an hour late, the Canter vehicle careens at great speed into the gateway leaning dangerously to one side as it executes the turn. The driver looks to be about seventeen.

Park Management have decreed that only ideal way to spot wildlife is to squeeze up to 25 people into a rattly green submarine type vehicle and hurtle around the park like the fires of hell were on our tail. In fact a convoy of Forestry Officers all on Government Duty were on our tail. Their jeeps, being smaller and faster and on official Government Duty they were given the obvious right of way. They seemed a merry crowd and quite happy with their outing.  A jeepload of women and children also on Government Duty bought up the rear of the convoy.

Meanwhile back on our submarine, I began to feel like I could be on any local bus in India. We rattled along the well worn route, rattling chip packets and bones, crunching gears and skidding to a halt for photo opportunities and toilet breaks as if we were somewhere in the back blocks of Madhya Pradesh. The guy next to me nods off, his head bouncing on my shoulder. Those who weren’t snacking on potato chips or playing video games on their cell phones would helpfully point out wildlife to the driver. He would then skid to a halt, waking the guide who would take a few seconds to focus his eyes, then from the full authority of his position as Park Guide would point majestically and tell us what we were seeing.

He was the master of the single syllable statement. “Deer” he insisted one time, “Owl” another. But the effort of doing his job so early in the morning overwhelms him from time to time and he remains mostly in-communicative.

The highlight of the day came at one point when the driver had opened his door in order to lean out and spit his tobacco onto the road. In doing so, he noticed some fresh pugmarks in the silky sandy roadside.
Performing some feat of driver yoga, he managed to stop the vehicle almost beside the marks so that fifty percent of the people could actually see them. He then pointed out that the Tiger was heading in the opposite direction to us and off we went again. I couldn’t help but wonder if the pugmarks were as old as the Canter had been late.

But there was no time to waste on hunting a tiger this morning. We were on a fast track to the Government Restaurant in the park with a quick skid around a group of elephants that were (luckily for us) grazing nearby. The children loved the elephants and screamed fond farewells as we headed to our ultimate destination, Breakfast.

Inside the restaurant the Forestry people were walking around with their plates and eating without the benefit of a table and chair, tables were smeared with pickle and waiters ran around with hot chai in plastic glasses that buckled and dribbled chai down your chin when you tried to drink from them. The Forestry people, being inured to Government Breakfasts wolfed the food happily; combed their hair and flirted with each other obliquely. They added an air of joie de vie to an otherwise disappointing morning. They didn’t seem to mind paying ten times the price for an average Indian breakfast. I suppose I should have been grateful that I wasn’t charged a foreigner price for the disgusting food, as I had to get into the park.

Replete now, we climb back into the torture vehicle and wait for half an hour while people drift back from their food and another ten minutes for the guide then we drive back the way we had come at a pace that hovered between leisurely and tortuous while our guide snored softly in his seat.
The next piece of action came as they always do, when you least expect it. Our vehicle is pulled to the side of the road. An angry guide in the vehicle following us had just picked up some rubbish thrown from our vehicle and he is livid. He points the offender out amongst the covey of brightly attired people on board. The Offender denies that he had done so and his wife supports him by blaming their children.

The man obviously rich and city bred was never going to apologise or own up to his actions in front of us, it could seriously injure his ego.
The park guide waves the offending litter at the disreputable family, snarls and threatens a fine and roars off into the jungle.

I spend the rest of the journey composing a letter to the Park Supervisor. I wonder why it is that tourists who have come from half way around the world to visit this park have to pay twice as much to enter as someone who has the benefit of this resource on their doorstep.

I wonder if the Indians had paid twice their entry fee if they would be demanding clean toilets with doors on them and facilities that are well maintained, guides that have some passion for their work and smaller less obtrusive safaris.
I wonder if the tigers are going to survive the mismanagement and lackadaisical attitude of the staff and its fellow countrymen towards its survival.

There is some encouraging news for the tigers if not for tourists. Tiger numbers have slowly increased in the Corbett Park, the last census reported 240 tigers. But this has in part been driven by conservationists outside the Park and privately funded NGO’s. Or NGO’s still looking for funding and working for love.

The Mahseer Conservancy has had amazing success in reintroducing stocks of this fish, a vital component in the food chain that ultimately affects the survival of the tiger. By working with the local communities, providing employment and training, the stock of fish has increased as well as revitalising the wealth of villages through education and actual cash in a unique profit sharing arrangement.

Innovative programs to reduce the conflict between village women who collect wood in the buffer zone and the tigers that like to eat them are in place; but these initiatives are sadly lacking in financial support and not even on the agenda for Government spending.

Corbett Park is a rich wildlife resource but Park Management philosophy is incompatible to a successful visit to the park. The government guides are taciturn and not able to converse in English if at all and the drivers spit a lot.

If you are planning to visit Corbett Park and despite this little adventure, I still recommend that you do, then a private resort will shield you from this sad reality and let you get on with seeing the park in all its beauty.
Tiger Camp and the Riverine Woods Resort are two places that are as involved with conservancy as they are with hospitality and the result is world class.

How to get there: By car from Delhi, the distance is less than 300 klm, a driving time of six hours. Plan to leave the city before six am to avoid being caught in traffic.
When to go:

The park is open to the public between October and June, closing for the monsoon season.
Best time to go for Birdwatching, fishing for Mahseer is the winter season, November through to February.

Best time for mammals May through to June.
Where to stay: Tiger Camp and the Riverine Woods Resort provide a full wild life experience including collection from Delhi.  Maximise your chance of seeing the variety of wildlife in the park by staying at least five days. Individual packages can be arranged.

 

Category: Asia, General musings, Travel Blog, Travel News, Travel Safety