Growing up in New Zealand really cemented my passion for nature and the environment. Never really being too far from nature, even in our biggest cities where trees decorate our pavements and the abundance of parks.
My instinctual reaction to a new place is to look around and up – looking for green in the landscape and possible movement. Coming to India, in some ways I didn’t know what to expect about the relationship between people and the environment. On one hand, high levels of plastic pollution in India has been covered extensively in western media; in some of my courses, we’ve studied the impact of chemical contamination in the country related to the textile industry, like use of chromium used in tanning process of leather, and dyes used in the dyeing process. Conversely, there is an immense cultural connection to the natural world within India culture, like the sacred statues of animals like cows and elephants, as well as sacred places like the Ganges River. Also connected to this is the prevalence of vegetarianism across the nation.
Arriving in India, all I could notice was the abundance of life. In an urban landscape, street dogs roamed along the pavement, squirrels ran along the roof tops and darted up trees, while crows and hawks roamed the sky. It was uncanny seeing a crow for the first time in my life, considering the prevalence of media.
In rural areas, there was change yet again and change between different regions. The monkeys we saw at Hampi and also later at Ahmedabad (in the city) was a pretty special sighting. There were macaques which were smaller and characterized by their red faces. The other monkey species, langurs, were much larger and had dark faces.
In terms of bird life – a sweet spot for many New Zealanders, bee-eaters could be spotted frequently sitting on powerlines or in the trees. Originally I’d thought they were from the hummingbird family due to the resemblance. In Auroville, we were lucky enough to spot an Indian Paradise Flycatcher, best recognised by its elaborate tail feathers which look like ribbons. I wasn’t exactly quick enough to snap good photos; like many of these moments, if you blink, you’ll miss them.
However the highlight of all these experiences was the safari through the Daroji Sloth Bear Sanctuary. Arriving in time for the sunset we set out in a tightly packed vehicle with open air flowing through. This definitely wasn’t the image we’d expected when we were told we could visit the bear sanctuary as an optional activity. I’d thought we would be walking around, watching animals over a fence and with binoculars out to the distance.
Instead, we were immersed in it – becoming part of the landscape. Eyes peeled for any sign of movement as we zipped around the corners, halting to a stop when the tour guide was able to spot something. This included a pair of love birds in the tree, engineer bird nests, deers and other sightings. Trekking up the hill to the watch tower, out in the distance we spotted the namesake of the sanctuary – sloth bears. In one group, a mum and her two cubs and separately another bear scratching its back on the rocks.
The drive back was a beautiful sight too, watching the sun set over the hills and driving through the fading orange light. I didn’t realise how much I’d missed sunsets, a rare sight in the city smog – and when we eventually had to turn the headlights on, looking up at the stars.
Getting back on the bus, we were all overwhelmed with gratitude to be lucky enough to see nature in this kind of raw, unfiltered way, transformed from being more of an observer, to becoming a part of the landscape and immersed in it.
Following up from this, I have so many questions in regards to the status of conservation land in India, and the entities which govern and manage these. Particularly in comparison to New Zealand, which has an extensive proportion of conservation land managed centrally.