Saving the Tiger

India Journal - Entry 15 - He Who Walks With Tigers

2009-03-28T15:59:00.002+07:00

Not done yet...saving the best for last. I'm excited I finally get to upload it.

This is perhaps one of the most beautiful and profound photographs I've ever taken.

I was in a jeep in Corbett National Park, India and I spotted some pugmarks in the dirt as we were driving by. I had the driver stop and back up to get a closer look. They were from a female and were fairly recent. The driver got out of the jeep to examine them more closely.

Now...there has been a photo I've wanted to create for some time, but have not had a good opportunity; being in tiger country afforded me a couple chances to capture this image from my dreams, but park rules state that tourists aren't allow to exit the vehicles, which was crucial if I was to get the photo. I motioned to the driver that I wanted to get out of the jeep and he didn't seem to care. I jumped out of the jeep with camera in hand and my heart was racing (a combination of excitement and nervousness as there could have been a tiger close by). I ran up to the pugmark and did something that would leave the driver momentarily confused - I removed my shoe and my sock from my left foot. I judged the best place to make my move and then stepped firmly into the dirt beside the pugmark. I lifted my foot and beamed at the result...

There it was...our footprints in the dirt side-by-side, illuminated by a beam of morning sunlight which had found its way past the mountains and trees, sticks and leaves. It was an image that made my heart sing - I finally had an image that could speak to my relationship with tigers and the natural world.

Years ago, I chose my email "HeWhoWalksWithTigers" based on the idea that the fate of the tiger and of myself are inextricably linked, just as all things in the natural world are linked in deep, interdependent relationships. It has become a metaphor to describe the path in life I chose to take and in this image, it has taken physical form in a simple, but meaningful symbol...one I've wanted to depict for a long time. There is also a greater context I wanted to communicate. Without the tiger, in ancient cultures considered the guardian of the forest, the forest system begins to break down. The presence of tigers have been linked to the preservation of bamboo, fuel wood, timber, honey, medicine and other products that directly or indirectly help thousands of people earn a living. This is in addition to ecological services such as protection of topsoil and the retention of groundwater. If we cannot save the tiger, how can we save ourselves?

We breathe the same air and drink the same water - all the efforts we have made to distinguish ourselves from creatures like tigers have betrayed this fundamental truth: humans and wildlife all walk the same path, rely on the same natural world, on the same earth. Our fates are shared.

The photograph is not going to win any sort of awards for photography, but it is deeply meaningful to me. I was extremely lucky too...this was the last pugmark I saw in India. It is the best souvenir I could get. I don't think I'll ever be able to take a photo quite like this one.

I will probably never know the tigress that left this pugmark, but I hold hope she is still out there surviving. I may not be in Corbett right now, but I walk with her...her and all tigers, leaving pugmarks in the sands of time.

India Journal: Entry 14 - Farewell to Paradise

2009-03-27T13:40:00.000+07:00

As the sun began to set on my adventures in India, I took the time to reflect on what I have seen. It was certainly a time of personal growth and wonder. However, I couldn’t help but think about whether or not the places I had visited or the tigers I had seen were going to remain for much longer. In particular, I thought a lot about a dream I had when I was first starting to pursue tiger conservation. It occurred a few years ago, and this dream has haunted me ever since (among others, but that’s another set of writings).

The dream began with me stepping out of a car in the parking lot of a large white building. What struck me first was that I was an older gentleman, perhaps in my 50s or 60s; my hair was gray and despite the nice looking brown jacket I was wearing, I had let myself go a little bit. It must have been a busy day at this white building because I had to park quite far away. After making my way into the building, I immediately knew what it was: it was a museum.

This museum was quite beautiful, with plenty of natural light shining in from its many windows. It had plenty of open space and had what looked like a column of floors extending several storeys and allowing visitors to overlook the museum via a central balcony. It was comfortably designed, clean, sharp and ultra-modern. As I toured the museum, I happened across something which would render unto me sadness unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

I came across a video screen with an interactive display...and a dead, stuffed tiger. The films that were being featured depicted older footage of tigers in the wild. They also showed footage of death and destruction: tigers were being shot, cut open, and their forests were being destroyed. Each of the clips that played had the same message at the end in haunting red text: the wild tiger was extinct. Other species seemed to be on the way out too and the display acted as a warning.

I lingered around the display for some time and watched as groups of schoolchildren walked by with casual interest. I remember holding back tears as I watched this new generation, now growing up in a world without the tiger.

I had failed. I was now a pathetic old man: alone, defeated, and bereft of purpose... I had experienced an overwhelming sense of emptiness and was living a life that no longer had meaning. I was left limping through the remaining days of my life, a ruined relic of a lost cause.

It was a dream that depicted a possible future and for has stuck with me. Occasionally my mind will wander and those terrible feelings come creeping back. I’ve wondered if that is to be my fate. The longest time, it was the only glimpse of a possible future I’ve ever had...that is, until I journeyed into the realm of the tiger.

My quest through the forests of India, seeing tigers and taking in the sights and smells, was an incredible experience I will remember for the rest of my life. By the end, I didn’t want to leave. However, before I left, I had another dream...a new dream.

This dream was far different. I wasn’t walking across fields of concrete or in the echoing halls of manmade structures, nor was I alone. I was fit and happy. I was in the forest, surrounded by those sights and smells I had fallen in love with. I was a watchful guardian. As a setting sun coloured the forests aflame and cast shadows among the trees, I walked towards a humble house to retire for the evening. I paused before entering upon hearing a wonderful sound: it was the sound of a tiger’s roars somewhere in forest, staking claim to its kingdom.

I had succeeded. The tiger retained its place in this world. I would spend the rest of my days with those I love, watching over the tiger’s kingdom...an eternal, emerald jewel that would serve as a living testament to those who dedicated their lives to protecting the most incredible of our natural heritage.

I no longer dwell on the painful prospects of that first dream. Rather, I have departed India with a new dream...one I will fight to achieve.

This is the beginning...

India Journal: Entry 13 - Indian Inukshuk

2009-03-26T13:31:00.001+07:00

Sorry, but there is no big story associated with this photo.

It was my last day at Corbett tiger park in India and I decided to take a river stroll. I noticed there were plenty of smooth rocks of a wide range of sizes, which gave me an idea.

The Canadian Inuit, who reside in the far north have historically used stone structures called "inukshuks' as landmarks. Inukshukgallery.com states:

The Inuit make inuksuit in different forms for a variety of purposes: as navigation or directional aids, to mark a place of respect or memorial for a beloved person, or to indicate migration routes or places where fish can be found. Other similar stone structures were objects of veneration, signifying places of power or the abode of spirits. Although most inuksuit appear singly, sometimes they are arranged in sequences spanning great distances or are grouped to mark a specific place....

The traditional meaning of the inukshuk is "Someone was here" or "You are on the right path."

The inukshuk has since been adopted as part of a symbol of Canada and in particular, the multiculturalism that we are proud of. I decided to make my own landmark as a statement of my Canadian presence so I constructed a stone avatar by the riverbank and baptized it with the cool river's water, which originated somewhere in the distant Himalayas.

I beamed at my Indian inukshuk and eventually departed, leaving my stony doppelganger to watch over the land of tigers.

India Journal: Entry 12 - Sunset Safari

2009-03-21T16:04:00.002+07:00

A cloud of dust erupts from behind a speeding jeep, whose occupants caught wind of a tiger in the area.

Those traveling to go on a tiger safari will note very quickly that it pays to keep your eyes and ears open. Tigers will leave pugmarks along the dusty road and when a tiger stirs in the forest, a cacophony of alarm calls shortly follows. These are the signs that will lead you to a tiger, though be prepared to take a spill if you aren’t paying attention – the mention of a nearby tiger will beget the roar of engines and your vehicle will take off like a shot whether or not you are ready.

These are some of the most exciting times on safari. You careen dangerously down bumpy forest roads, leaving trails of dust behind you while the forest air whips across your face. All the while, your heart pounds against your chest and adrenaline rushes through your veins. You hang on for dear life, hoping that sharp corner ahead doesn’t send you flying. A smile creases your lips... this is adventure.

India Journal: Entry 12 - Distant Worlds

2009-03-20T10:02:00.002+07:00

During my travels in India, I came across an individual who said something which would later play a role in defining my reflections on the trip. I was at Ranthambore, sitting by a fire with other tourists and out of the conversations a man said, “India has the best and worst the world has to offer”. That statement resonated with me. If you ever find yourself traveling around seeing the natural places remaining in India, you will understand too.

In my experiences in the protected areas where tigers roam, I was in paradise. The sights, sounds and smells made me feel at home. Aside from human presence, everything about being in these places was incredible. Seeing a tiger was the peak of it all...the epitome of the raw wildness and sublime beauty of nature (or, in the words of Dante, “The art of God”). Indeed, I was immersed in a dreamscape where the energy of life itself surged forth in vivid color, light and fragrance unlike anything mankind could ever render. Time seemed to not even exist, but for the daily passing of the sun and the air seemed so pure that often I was lost simply in the act of breathing. This was Eden, but we had kicked ourselves out.

When traveling between protected areas into human settlements and cities, the places of my dreams became distant worlds. Vivid color gave way to pale grays obscured by dust and pollution, which stung the eyes and made it difficult to breathe. The sounds of the wild were silenced by roar of engines, car horns, blaring music, and people yelling. The timeless slow-motion of nature was overtaken by the hectic rapidity of city-life. Yet life here in these places, rather than surging forth, felt subdued, suppressed and corrupt, limping forth just trying to get by. For every 5-star hotel, posh restaurant, or hi-tech electronics shop amidst the crumbling streets, masses of poverty-stricken beggars were never far from view. It was a soul-crushing juxtaposition. The vast inequality, the desperate and pitiful struggles of seemingly endless numbers of families, the filth, the pollution, the despair and the apathy...it rendered a sadness which lingered in my heart like the hazy air that so often obscured the sun. My experience in India will always be tainted by this. This is not what life is supposed to be and I felt damned to be a part of it.

There are moments where we as individuals reflect on our lives and question if we are walking the right path. I had grown up largely within a “modern” suburban environment, cushioned from both the ills of poverty and the sublime beauty of raw nature. Somewhere in the time when I was discovering tigers and pursuing higher learning at university, I began to widen my perspective. It was only when I visited India that I could truly appreciate the divide I saw before me. When I could see the man-man reality of the city right next to the small pockets of India’s remaining forests, I began to wonder, “Is this the way we should live...the way we are meant to live? What are we heading towards?”

The Eden’s of the Earth are being swallowed up by the way we are living. We are not only laying waste to the last remaining bastions of life itself, but many of our own species are left behind in the process, struggling to survive while the rich thrive. We seek to separate ourselves completely from nature, yet it is nature upon which we depend. Where will this take us? Can we turn back? Can we bring the realms of man and nature, these distant worlds, back together and can we create a world where fortune favours all instead of the few?

If life in the wilds I visited was life in balance, then the places in between were the epitome of life out of balance.

In India, I saw the best and the worst this world has to offer.

India Journal: Entry 11 - Time Stands Still

2009-03-19T14:03:00.001+07:00

A sambar quenches its thirst upon a pond in Ranthambore and looks upon a world of shimmering gold, gilded by a setting sun. The light of the day retreats into the west and the cool of night steals in silently. Will this be the sambar’s last sunset? Will it escape the maw, tooth and claw? Will the night be cast in crimson?

The beautiful precariousness of life, the lingering spectre of death...it is the law written upon the land, the whispers in the wind, the rune of scar and stripe.

Cherish life and those moments of sublime wonder...lest the sun that sets before you is the last you will see.

India Journal: Entry 10 - Tranquility

2009-03-16T13:50:00.001+07:00

The sun rises upon Ranthambore, casting golden light upon an ancient fort. The deep blue of night is subdued, but lingers as mist rises from a lake as smooth as glass. Birds call in the trees to herald the coming of a new day and life stirs once more in these ancient lands...

...yet tranquility remains...ever present, ever pervasive. It is the timeless silence of the rising sun. It is the dew upon the leaf. It is the fragrance of the air. It is the bird floating in the wind. It is the tiger gliding through the trees.

It is life.

India Journal: Entry 9 - King Nothing

2009-03-14T21:21:00.002+07:00

After visiting Bandhavgarh and not seeing a tiger, I was quite ready to disembark in search of greater opportunities at the famed tiger reserve, Ranthambore. I wasn’t too sure what to expect. Ranthambore is one of the most popular tiger tourist destinations in the entire world and my first thought was that it would be far too crowded to be an enjoyable experience. My experiences in the other parks quickly showed me just how disrespectful and unruly people can be when a tiger makes an appearance – it bothered me to no end, as I believe there is a code of conduct one should observe when visiting the home of wild animals and especially when viewing tigers. Naturally, I was a bit worried.

I arrived on Christmas Eve (December 24th) before noon. After a lengthy train-ride, I was eager to unpack, unwind and enjoy an afternoon to myself. However, I was surprised to here that an afternoon safari was going to be departing and I had the opportunity to join. The temptation was too much to resist and soon after arriving, I was boarding a large canter, which could accommodate more than 20 people.

The excitement of the safari was diminished somewhat by anxiety toward the others in the canter. Most of my safari’s were private affairs and all around me were chatty tourists who surely would not be as quiet as myself. However, after weeks of very little contact and conversation with English speakers, I began to relax and enjoy the experience. A couple of casual conversations made me feel I was among friends, which was a welcomed change.

After entering the park, I could understand why Ranthambore was so popular. Though we only toured a small part of the park, I was absolutely stunned with the natural beauty that was before me. As the evening approached, the other tourists were becoming anxious to see a tiger. Though some apparently didn’t get the memo that tiger’s don’t appear for people on a whim, I was becoming anxious as well. However, this was somewhat subdued knowing I was only on the first of many safari’s to come.

We traversed the winding roads and came upon a park staff member. It didn’t take long for me to realize, as he was talking to the driver, that he knew something. The staff member entered the canter and began to give the driver directions. It seemed that he knew there was a tiger in the area. The lines upon the man’s face told me he had a wealth of experience and knowing he was using it for our benefit made my excitement grow.

We turned a corner and sure enough, we came across another canter who had found two tigers. I immediately leaped to my feet, as did the others in the canter. Unfortunately, I was in the back of the canter and my view was obscured by trees and a legion of tourists vying for a view. I was able to hang myself out the side of the canter and snap a few blurry shots a tiger taking a drink. I was able to see the other tiger as well.

Tigers are solitary and normally do not associate with each other. These two tigers were male, which made it even more bizarre. However, these tigers were sub-adult siblings who seemed to be entering the twilight hours of their family. Their mother was nowhere to be seen and it is quite possible the process of the family break-up had already begun.

I was frustrated. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t position myself to get a good view of the tigers. However, for reasons completely unknown to me, the driver came to the back of the canter, grabbed me by the arm, parted the crowd and placed me in the front of the canter with a fantastic view and part of the canter’s frame to stabilize my shots. I was completely taken off guard and the other tourists seemed to be as confused as I was, but unlike them, I wasn’t complaining. Simultaneously, one of the tigers had gotten up, moved closer and had laid down in a gap between the branches of a tree that had been obscuring everyone’s view.

As I discovered in my last encounter with a tiger, the effects of experiencing a wild tiger wasn’t diminishing, but actually increasing. The adrenaline was pumping, the world around me melted away yet again, my heart was hammering against my ribcage and this time I was even having trouble standing straight. Again...this wasn’t out of fear, but out of awe. The tiger had taken hold of me yet again.

The tiger which had decided to venture closer to us was maintaining a wary eye, but wasn’t bothered. As a result, I was able to take a wealth of photographs. It wasn’t until another canter arrived, with tourists screaming in excitement that the tiger decided to retreat. It was a rude arrival that left a bad taste everyone’s mouth and the new arrivals, in addition to being disappointed, found themselves the target of dozens of angry stares.

After the excitement died down, it was time to relax again. The sun began its evening decent and spirits were high among the other tourists. The fading sunlight painted the landscape with brilliant golden hues and people were eager to share their photos with each other. The night played host to campfires amidst the cold, conversation among strangers from all over the world and a sky filled with stars.

I began to think about the experiences of the day. Traveling to and from the park showed me just how unpleasant the situation is for the park. Ranthambore is famous for its tigers, but the long-term persistence of these animals is in question. The reserve is an ecological island amidst a human dominated landscape. Not far from the reserve is a major city and surrounding the park is farmland as far as the eye can see. Though this tiger tolerated our presence, the people outside the park are often not as friendly. He will eventually have to find his own territory and with very little land in the park to spare, he might venture outside the park into a nothing landscape and come into conflict with people.

This is a king that is quickly finding he no longer has a kingdom and it is a situation that many tigers now face.

India Journal: Entry 8 - Lost and Found

2009-03-14T14:28:00.001+07:00

This was a friend I made at Bandhavgarh.

I was relaxing outside near my room at the resort in the afternoon while this female stray was hanging out nearby. She had settled near a crowd of people who seemed to have tolerated her presence. While I was reading a book the dog was suddenly attacked by another female, presumably out of fear for pups she was raising nearby. This poor dog was cornered and attacked, bitten in the leg. She made her way over to me and when the attacker followed I stepped in its way, preventing it from getting to the other dog. The attacker attempted numerous times to circumvent me, but she eventually saw it as a lost cause. She slowly walked away, occasionally checking to see if I was still there while the dog that was attacked was whimpering behind me.

It was probably unwise to come between two dogs in this way, but I often let emotion get the better of me. I checked on the dog that had been attacked and she was shaking. She didn't appear to be bleeding, but was quite frightened. She had laid down and was watching to see if the other female was going to come back. I pulled up a chair next to her and helped to keep watch as well. I read a book next to her and occasionally whispered words of reassurance while she slept. We spent a few hours together.

When the sun had set, I made my way back to my room. The dog I was with was clearly worried the other was going to come back and attack her again. I wanted to show her that things were okay so I walked in 20 ft increments to allow the dog to follow slowly and overcome her apprehension. When I got to my room, I stayed with her to make sure the other female was not around. When she was confident enough, she left and I went inside.

I hope I made her feel safe and cared for, if only for a few hours.

This was just one of the many stray dogs that are out there. One of the most heartbreaking parts of visiting India was seeing the astonishing number of strays – I must have seen 5 in my journeys that had died on the road after being hit by cars. It’s really difficult to fathom at such a scale...with such rampant poverty, animals suffer the injustices of inequality as well. Dogs may be man’s best friend, but often I doubt how much that means to them.

I would recommend anyone who is thinking of getting a pet to adopt from an animal shelter that takes in the animals that don’t have homes. There are so many creatures out there that need a kind soul and a forever home. Even though you might only be able to help one, that decision would mean the world to a dog like this one. For those with pets, please have them spayed or neutered to prevent unnecessary breeding.

India Journal: Entry 7 - Lookout

2009-03-13T13:32:00.005+07:00

After Kanha, it was off to Bandhavgarh.

While traveling through Bandhavgarh, it was often the tiger that was on my mind, but occasionally other creatures would capture my attention. I spotted this lone jackal on the road, who seemed to be quite jittery. This was completely understandable of course. After all, the jackal is not a large creature and must keep a lookout for tigers, leopards and other predators. You don’t often hear about them either, as it is the more charismatic creatures that get all the attention. I would have liked to have seen more of this individual, though after being spotted, it made a hasty retreat into the jungle.

Unfortunately, Bandhavgarh didn't yield any tiger sightings. Though I try to keep up with tiger news in India, the fact that Bandhavgarh has seen a catastrophic crash in tiger numbers of late was only discovered after I had visited.

However, despite not seeing a tiger, I still enjoyed myself.
The scenery of Bandhavgarh was breathtaking and my room was located right on the fringes of the park. As a result, I often heard alarm calls frighteningly close and on one occasion I heard a tiger roaring into the night less than 1km away. If that wasn't enough to make me slightly uncomfortable while reading outside my room at night, I was also informed that a man-eater was recently captured in the area 3 weeks previous to my arrival.

India Journal: Entry 6 - One

2009-03-12T13:27:00.002+07:00

This is a photograph of a barasingha or `swamp deer` near a grassland pond at Kanha National Park, India. Out of all the photos I took during my trip to India, few come close to capturing the real beauty that I have witnessed while looking for tigers. This is one of those few photographs.

It is one of those moments where everything seems to be connected: the water, the air, the earth, the plants, the birds and the beasts. It is one of those moments where you feel unity amongst all things resonating to the pulse of existence. It is a moment that brings you closer to life, enlightenment and the truth of it all...

All is one.

India Journal: Entry 5 - Burning Bright

2009-03-11T13:26:00.002+07:00

Kanha National Park in India is beautiful in its own regard, but I came to the park to see a tiger and during my stay there were plenty of close calls; one instance, we could hear a tiger moving through the jungle just off the road, but it never ventured into sight and we were left merely with dust and dreams. There were many fresh pugmarks to be tracked in the early morning, but tigers were as elusive as ever in this forest.

I recall during one journey, my park guide had mentioned the prospect of riding an elephant. Elephants can be used to go where jeeps cannot so I responded favorably to the idea. Thinking this was something to happen much later, I was surprised when I was soon speeding in a jeep towards an elephant in the forest, standing by the road. Before I knew it, I was climbing onto the elephant and setting forth on a shaky journey into the deep forest. The surprises kept on coming as I realized that we weren`t just looking for a tiger, rather, we were heading towards a tiger that had already been found.

The mahout (elephant rider) stopped at a small clearing near a dry river bed. I was greeted by the sight of 3 other elephants surrounding a circle of thick brush. It didn`t take me long to figure out what was in that brush; as the elephants began to clear the cover, a deep and paralyzing din arose from the shadows. A tiger had uttered a long, terrifying growl in protest, though the other mahouts and their cohorts seemed unstirred. It was the heralding of a creature with incredible power: the lord of this land.

We circled around the brush and descended into the dry riverbed. I turned and looked into the shadows and found myself in close proximity to the tiger. The tiger seemed calm, despite the commotion and casually took in the sights as it lay in the bushes. After seeing numerous tigers already, I would have thought that the experience of seeing a tiger would somehow diminish; however, it was quite the opposite. The quickening pulse, the adrenaline and the dream-like fog was more intense. I was closer to the wild tiger than I ever was before...very close.

As I took in the spectacular creature before me, I began to quietly utter words of astonishment and wonder, like a prayer to a living god. Shortly after doing this something had piqued the tiger`s attention and it suddenly shed its air of apathy. Its gaze slowly, but intensely rose from the ground and found my eyes. Though I have known deep stares from tigers in zoos, this was something completely different. The tiger had eyes that literally seemed to burn, like simmering embers left over from the creation of the universe...and they were staring into me. Before taking this photograph, I froze for a moment, paralyzed. What power...

I suddenly became conscious of just how exposed I was. Though the elephant I was riding on was indeed quite tall, tigers have been known to leap the distance. Moreover, in descending into the dry riverbed, we had become almost level with the tiger, which could have very easily made a run and leapt onto the elephant`s back with no effort. My legs seemed horrifyingly vulnerable, dangling in front of the tiger like meat hanging in a butcher shop.

My heart continued racing as the tiger continued to stare; time no longer existed. The tiger seemed to know it was the ruler of this place and stared into me with what seemed like pride, power and dignity. In the dark of the deep forest, it was a life burning bright and being so close, it had set my heart on fire once more. Then, as suddenly as it started, it was over; the tiger seemed satisfied and casually looked away before closing its eyes. The mahout then signalled our departure and I soon found myself making the trek out of the tiger`s forest.

I unsteadily descended from the elephant into an awaiting jeep and looked at my hands: they were shaking. Now...I pride myself in being an individual with a strong spirit and am often calm in intense circumstances. There are few things that will rattle me, but this experience showed me that no matter how much time I have spent face to face with tigers in a zoo, it could never prepare me to come face to face with the dominating power of a wild tiger. My first meeting with a tiger left me in a similar state. It wasn`t a product of fear – ultimately, I didn`t feel any misfortune would befall me – rather, it was something different that caused those chills. Perhaps it is because I know the tiger well enough to know what feats of power it is capable of, perhaps it is my respect for ancient belief which associated it with the divine, perhaps it is simply because the tiger is an animal I respect more than any other... in any case, that tiger's gaze had pierced the innermost realms of my soul...

...what it saw is something only the tiger knows.

India Journal: Entry 4 - Journey into the Emerald Forest

2009-03-10T13:52:00.002+07:00

After my experiences in Pench, it was off to Kanha National Park to the east. Kanha is home to a mosaic of forest and grassland habitats which allows it to sustain one of the highest densities of tigers in the world.

The park is extensive, spanning (940 km2) and one of the most beautiful places on earth. The forest shimmers an emerald green and in some places you would think you were in a tropical jungle.

I spent a lot of time in this park completely stunned by its beauty. I really could have stayed there forever...

The forest is lovely, dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep...

-Robert Frost

India Journal - Entry 3 - Apparition in the Mist

2009-02-10T19:15:00.005+07:00

After my first encounter with the tiger cubs, I had retired to my room at a nearby resort at midday. I elected not to go on safari that afternoon and spent the rest of the day relaxing. Two days later, I would return to the park once more.

I embarked through the cool mist of the forest on another cool morning, my eyes and ears sharp to the sights and sounds of the forest. If a tiger moved, we would know. I remained vigilant, standing in the jeep and scanning the surroundings.

The jeep slowly traversed the meandering dirt roads of the forest for what seemed like an eternity and we emerged in a grassland where the rising sun was setting the fields aglow. Materializing out of the mist was a set of buildings. We had arrived at an elephant camp. The driver stopped and casually set forth on a bathroom break and afterwards started a conversation with one of the camp staff.

I started to get anxious. I looked back across the field into the forest. We certainly weren’t going to see any tigers at the rate events were unfolding. I made my point by staying in the jeep, hoping others would get the hint. We eventually creeped back into the dark forest, where morning light was penetrating through the trees.

We met other jeeps periodically and after drive-by chats, we found out that no one had seen a tiger yet. This increased my anxiety. The first tiger I saw had left its mark on me... I wanted more, like a drug-user in need of a fix.

We turned onto a path that seemed scarcely used and soon after we heard the silence broken by the trumpeted cough of a sambar warning call. There was a tiger out there...and it was on the move.

Everyone in the jeep switched into high gear and we raced down the path. The driver eventually came to a stop and another jeep pulled in right behind us. We stood still, staring off into space and focused our energies at listening...imagining where the tiger could be. The calls repeated once more, but they were closer...it was coming toward us.

We turned to face where we thought the tiger would be and fixed our eyes to the deep blue distance, hoping for a flash of orange and black. Someone had spotted something, which sent everyone’s eyes darting madly. A tiger was there, but obscured by a wall of forest. My heart was racing and my mouth was dry.

My eyes located a clearing through the trees and I was soon rewarded. Like some sort of ghostly apparition, a tiger had strode silently into view.

I was mesmerized once more, as if the very sight of this creature had cast a spell upon me. The world around me seemed to melt away...all sound seemed silenced save the drumming of my heart in my chest. It was like something out of a dream. After the tiger appeared, it seemed a glowing light floating through the mist. The creature dominated the forest with its very presence...yet, its magnificent form made not a sound. I remember the determined placement of paw after paw and it’s gaze held forward, and though I could see it making contact with the forest floor, it nonetheless seemed to glide. Like a river of flaming gold, it flowed through the trees and once more fell out of view.

I was awoken from my daze my the sound of tires spinning in the dirt. The driver, knowing where the tiger was headed, had turned around and was speeding through the forest. The bumpy ride was cause for a tightened grip on the jeeps handrails and while being jostled around, I began to wonder if what I saw really happened and regretted not getting a photograph. However, I didn’t linger in memory for too long...the tiger was still out there.

We pulled onto a road which seemed much more open. The trees seemed more widely spaced and the forest was buffered by plenty of grass. We eventually picked a spot and settled down, waiting for the tiger to make one more appearance. Sure enough, it emerged among the trees and it seemed to be using the road we were just driving as a pathway.

It retained its determined composure, a wild dignity and flawless form while silently walking 100 ft before us. It seemed unconcerned with us and took the time to leave scent signals on trees and on the road to let other tigers know it had passed.

Before entering the forest once more, it stopped for a few moments and took in its surroundings, bathed in mist. It sniffed the air, taking in the sweet fragrance of the forest that no words can properly define and then slowly faded into the trees.

I exhaled and took it all in as well.

Its moment’s like these that you live for: where everything seems to slow down, where the sublime beauty of life takes hold and you are left in awe. Perhaps people like myself are more susceptible, but I consider myself luckier for it. Life is so much grander.

India Journal - Entry 2 - Entering the Realm of the Tiger

2008-12-27T23:13:00.002+07:00

When I awoke at 5am, it was still dark. The stars were still holding vigil over the pale blue landscape and the symphony of crickets remained undeterred by the cold. Neither was I. It was my first day in Pench National Park in India...my first day in tiger country. The prospect of seeing my first wild tiger was firmly established from the moment I opened my eyes. I thought about it as I got dressed and when I brushed my teeth. I thought about it when I packed my bag, zipped up my coat and made my way through the dark to the entrance of the resort. I thought about it as I watched the first rays of sunlight illuminate the forested horizon. Each exhaled breath lingered in the frigid air like affirmations hope taking ghostly form.

It was too early for breakfast and, despite my searching for coffee, there was none to be found. I didn’t mind too much: I was wide awake and ready to enter the realm of the tiger. The gravel and sand crackled under the tires of an oncoming jeep, which pulled up to the entrance. It was your typical safari vehicle: the front had an open top and the back had two rows of seats for passengers. However, I wouldn’t be using the seats too much during the trip – adrenaline and excitement wouldn’t permit it. Rather, the open top would allow me to stand and scan the surroundings for signs of wildlife, hopefully manifesting as tiger.

After a few moments, I climbed into the jeep. I looked at each seat and attempted to reason which would provide me the best opportunities for wildlife viewing. However, that wouldn’t matter as there were no other guests that would join, leaving me free of competition.

The engine roared to life. It was time to go.

Under fading night, the driver, two guides and myself raced toward the park gate. Upon arrival, we were greeted by a queue of less than a dozen other cars waiting for the park authorities to allow entry. The driver left the vehicle to submit entry forms while we waited. Slowly, but surely, the pale blue of the landscape gave way to a palet of violets and reds while the trees came into view through the fog. We were soon given the all-clear.

Our jeep continued along the dirt road leading into the inner reaches of the park while the wind numbed my fingers and face. I had to choose between keeping my hands warm and having my camera at the ready. Naturally, I chose the latter – it is where being a Canadian comes in handy. One thing that I noticed almost immediately was the air, which was cool, crisp and clean, with the soft, sweet, calming fragrance of the forest. It was a far cry from the stinging pollution of Bangkok and Nagpur and was quite wonderful to experience. The landscape was eerie, with trees and plants I had never seen before and peculiar rock formations jutting out from the earth, bathed in early morning mist. It was another world.

At 6:30am, I entered Pench National Park. It was the first time I had entered a forest where tigers prowled. I had been waiting for such an opportunity for 4 years and it was finally happening. However, as we sped past the trees, penetrating deeper into the forest, I found myself slightly despondent. I began to realize that I was setting myself up for disappointment. After all, some people spend days in tiger country and never even catch a glimpse of a tiger. I was being foolish to expect to see a tiger on my first trip. It was a humbling dose of reality, but one that I accepted with relative ease. It is a privilege to be able to see a wild tiger and Pench is rich in other wildlife to admire.

The other wildlife didn’t take long to appear. The jeep slowed at certain points to inspect the odd spotted deer, peacock and wild boar and I found myself still thinking about tigers, but happy to experience the creatures I have come to know only though modern media. It was okay that I may not see a tiger...I was lucky enough.

Fate, it would seem, would disagree.

I noticed the driver slowing and his demeanor changed. He turned and whispered a word that would send my heart racing: “Tiger!”

My eyes darted around where the driver had pointed 30 meters into the forest and soon a figure rose up out of the grass. At 7am on December 10^th, 2008, after 4 years of waiting, months of planning and just 30 minutes after entering the park, I saw my first wild tiger.

It truly was a blur. My heart was persistently pounding against my rib cage and my eyes remained transfixed upon the tiger. I had my mouth gaping open in awe for a few seconds with a faint, barely intelligible whisper of “Oh my god”. It was far, but I just make out its stripped form in the grass. Auspiciously, it was a cub...a few months old. That would mean its mother and possible siblings would be nearby. Another cub emerged and the two danced in and out of view while playing. Eventually, it was revealed that their mother had made a kill, possibly a sambar. There was plenty for the family to munch on and the mother stayed hidden in the grass, likely sleeping. While the scene unfolded, I fumbled with my camera. Although the photos I took were less than ideal, given the low light, the camera acted as a pair of binoculars, allowing me to get a good glimpse when the tigers came into view. Eventually, the mother would materialize, though only for a few moments.

I am not sure how long we had stayed there, but eventually, the excitement became subdued. The cubs likely took cue from their mother and began napping. Ultimately, the tigers decided to stay hidden and the cars that had joined the frantic fray disappeared one by one. The driver signalled his intentions to continue with the trek. I cannot remember how I responded, but it was likely a half-hearted grunt. Part of me wanted to stay until there was more movement, but another was tempted by the prospect of further adventure. The kill would keep them in the same spot so I quickly got over the disappointment when the wheels began to turn once more.

We toured the park and saw more deer and a few unruly languor monkeys. A short break was taken at the park’s resevior, providing an incredible view. As the sun continued its ascension and the jeep meandered around the bends of the dirt road, I my mind remained with the tigers. I was humbled by the experience and amazed at just how quickly everything had happened. I was lucky...very lucky. It was then that I had felt an immense amount of relief. I could truly let go of worrying about whether I would see a tiger and I could simply enjoy what the experience had to offer. In my list of “Things to Do Before I Die”, I could cross off “seeing a wild tiger” at the age of 22.

As we left the park before noon, I felt a familiar sensation. It was the same feeling that I felt when leaving the zoo after meeting a tiger for the first time in 2004. It was the same feeling that brought me back to that zoo in subsequent days and weeks. It was the blissful intoxication of happy memories and of being with tigers. I didn’t want to leave...I wanted to stay. It felt like home and felt right. The scent, sights and sounds, rather than seeming foreign, seemed familiar and friendly. Perhaps someday, after securing a future for wild tigers, I’ll be able to find a home in tiger country and live out the rest of my days in the company of one of the greatest animals life has ever known. Should I be so lucky? Who knows? If the day had taught me anything it is to not get absorbed in what may or may not, but to make the best of our experiences.

I left the park with a smile on my face. I had experienced something incredible, but this was only the first day. There were many more adventures to be had.

India Journal - Entry 1 - Finally

2008-12-08T02:07:00.004+07:00

I have 6 words to say right now:

Holy crap, I'm finally in India!

Ever since I started getting interested in tigers just over 4 years ago, I've wanted to go to India to see a wild tiger. Now...after over 4 years of waiting, hoping, praying, dreaming, begging, searching, and struggling I've taken my first steps on the subcontinent. 4 years ago I never would have imagined I would be here; traveling and having adventures was always something for other people...not me. Not anymore. Today, I start my month-long adventure across India in search of the tiger. What awaits me, I have no idea, but I'm giving myself completely to the experience and the opportunity.

Here's to making pugmarks in the sands of time!

Thailand Journal – Entry 12 - Random Facts

2008-11-01T18:15:00.004+07:00

I have nothing better to post, so I will offer some mildly interesting facts about myself (relating to tigers, of course)!

1) I was born in both the year of the tiger (and the lunar cycle of the tiger too!).

Perhaps an interesting coincidence...perhaps fate. Who knows? I'm not sure if I was born during the ruling hours of the tiger (3AM-5AM), but I don't think so. Still, I think it is pretty neat. Wikipedia states:

"Tiger people are difficult to resist, for they are magnetic characters and their natural air of authority confers a certain prestige on them. They are tempestuous yet calm, warm-hearted yet fearsome, courageous in the face of danger yet yielding, soft and mysterious. They enjoy a life full of challenges and unexpected events, like visiting unusual places and meeting interesting or outstanding people. Other people in their area are easily attracted by the tiger's enthusiasm and way of life. Tigers find pleasure in the unpredictable, and while other people would rather make a backward step, they are not afraid to explore the new and unusual. But it is not that simple to interest the Tiger. What they really need is first-hand experience. Usually open and frank, these people are likely to withdraw and can be aggressive when trapped. As soon as the Tiger has regained their sense of security their confidence also returns, enabling them to set out once more. These people usually tend to trust their instincts, though there is another side of their personality, which assesses situations thoughtfully before they launch any actions. Their friends usually secretly admire their determination and optimism, though sometimes may find it complicated to share the Tiger's enthusiasm and can be pushed away and left behind. Although Tigers can be courageous and generous friends, if they are not able to achieve what they want, they can be inflexible and self-centered. So if your friend was born in the year of the Tiger, there will be highs and lows in your friendship, but the friendship itself will remain firm."

Notable celebrities born in the year of the tiger include, Steve Irwin, Karl Marx, Leonardo DiCaprio, Marco Polo, David Attenborough, and Ludwig Van Beethoven.

It is important to remember that it is not our birth or beliefs that make us who we are, but our actions; however, I find some of the coincidences fascinating.

The next year of the tiger will be in 2010, which will be the year I graduate.

2) My Thai name is... "Tiger"

Not really a big surprise, but nonetheless fun. I believe it was one of the program coordinators who first started calling me "เสือ" or "sĕua". Students typically get Thai names while in the program, but so far I am the only one who has recieved one.

3) Tatiana the Tiger Hates Me

Tatiana is an Amur (Siberian) tigress with cubs at the Toronto Zoo.

What is interesting is that she seems to harbor an immense dislike for me. I hate to say it, but it is what I've concluded after several visits with her. Every time I have come to visit her she has seen me, growled, hissed and showed her long teeth. At first, I thought it was just an issue regarding my clothing choice ([link]). However, my subsequent visits told me otherwise.

After she had cub and she showed her dislike for me even more intensely. She will see me and not only will she show the warning signs above, but she will also lunge at the glass toward me ([link] , [link] ). Needless to say, if that glass were not there, she would have killed me in a second. People may feel tough behind glass and fences, but they should respect the incredible power of these animals. It is both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

I'm would imagine she might do this to others as well, but what is interesting is that even with a crowd of over 2 dozen, if I'm in sight she'll single me out (much to the delight of the other zoo-goers). It is not uncommon for zoo animals to take a particular interest in people, positive and negative, but I'm a little disappointed that I would have that effect on a tiger. The other tigers I meet generally have neutral to favorable opinions of me and even major zoo tigers (who by all rights should ignore me) will occasionally chuff at me when I do it to them.

Some people might respond to something like this with anger or disrespect for the animal. After all, people go to zoos preoccupied with the idea that the animals are supposed to like them. However, I see it as further proof of how amazing this species is.

The tiger is a legendary mother and there are very few things more terrifying than the power and courage shown by one defending her cubs. From the tiger's perspective, I am taller and thus, much larger than her. Yet, at the same time, she has no hesitation to stand between me and her cubs and go on the attack.

The virtue of the tiger is most certainly courage. I have experienced it for myself. This animal deserves tremendous respect.

Thailand Journal – Entry 11 - A Great Spirit Approaches

2008-10-26T16:33:00.007+07:00

Although it is the end of the rainy season here in Thailand, a storm can come out of nowhere. I was working on my computer today when I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, a massive low-hanging cloud cutting across the valley. It was like a great spirit approaching, as if some massive dragon were hidden in the clouds. It looked quite menacing, but after the rain started to fall, there was nothing to be worried about. After all, rain is one of the most powerful life-giving forces on earth and is something to be thankful for more often than not. I'm one of the few who love rainy days...I can spend hours just relaxing and watching it fall.

Anyway, here is video to show you...

*The music is actually Japanese...I don't have any good Thai music on my computer, but I wanted to add some music for dramatic effect.

Shortly afterwards, the cloud disappeared as fast as it arrived, leaving rain-soaked trees and wind-swept mountains. A stillness fell upon the valley and I was left with a sense of peace.

Thailand Journal – Entry 10 - My Apartment

2008-10-25T02:18:00.009+07:00

A less lengthy post this time and nothing too heavy either...

After moving out of my homestay, I started living in a nice apartment closer to school. I have internet access, am right in the trendy part of Chiang Mai and have a 24-7 grocery store and laundromat less than 1 minute away. Though I tried to get a higher floor (and thus, a better view of the nearby mountain, Doi Suthep) everything from the 4th floor up was occupied. I don't mind too much though, I'm paying less and I still get a pretty good view (Be sure to check out the video below - a stop-motion animation I took of the sun setting behind the mountain). Plus, the swimming pool is located on my floor!

The room is well furnished with a large bed, cable television, bathroom, balcony, desk, more cupboard space than I'll ever need, air conditioning and a fridge. With a little bit of decoration, I feel quite at home. I've never lived on my own before (I've had roommates and housemates) and being an independent person who likes their space, I was positively giddy moving in. It's a place to call my own. It's a sanctum. It's my territory...my tiger den. No worries though, I haven't turned into a hermit. I still hang out with other people from the program. One of my favourite regular activities is grabbing a Friday night burger at "Mike's", which is quite possibly the best hamburger I have ever had... of all places, in Thailand.

Photo time!

I took all the photos out of my photo album and stuck them on my wall with a poem and drawing someone did for me for inspiration. Most of the plushies you see were generously donated by WWF-Canada and hopefully the kids I give them to will like them. Tigers rule!

Yep...that's a sink.

A shower complete with electric water heater.

...

One of the many moods of the mountains.

Okay...well, we are back inside now. My bed is pretty much just a sheet and a pillow with a t-shirt for a cover. I was too stingey to actually buy a comforter so I just wrap the whole thing around myself. I don't have to use as much air conditioning so it works and if I somehow get cold I can put on a sweater. Yes, I know...I'm doing it wrong.

This has nothing to do with my apartment. I just think it looks cool. I took this on Chiang Mai University's campus.

This has nothing to do with my apartment either, but there is no denying this is the most persuasive lemonade salesmen you've ever seen. The lemonade was quite good.

I bought this just because of that photo. It's too awesome to resist. Judging by the look he is giving you, he has a passion for lemonade that borders on the psychotic.

...This was quite painstaking to say the least, but the result is a little cool.

Thailand Journal – Entry 9 - A Fork in the Road

2008-10-23T01:10:00.000+07:00

In my short and uneventful career in tiger conservation so far, I haven’t been faced with very many tough decisions. I’ve only really been faced with one major decision and it was quite easy: help save tigers or not. Naturally, I chose the former and it was that decision that put me where I am today. I wouldn’t expect any decision after that to be terribly difficult...at least not until I started making decisions that would directly affect wild tigers. For example, when I joined the Thailand Year Abroad program I had to choose what kind of placement I wanted. That was very easy as well...I wanted to get my hands dirty in tiger conservation and make a difference. However, it wasn’t that simple.

Before I left for Thailand, I wanted to figure out my field placement as soon as possible and talked to a personal hero of mine at World Wildlife Fund. She was the individual who invited me to be a member of the International Tiger Coalition, which is an organization that has some of the best and brightest tiger conservation has to offer. She welcomed me into the world of the greats and did everything she could to make me feel welcome and accepted. She also offered to help me get in touch with people who could arrange a field placement for me. I figured she would give me contacts at World Wildlife Fund – Thailand, but she pulled a fast one on me and mentioned the possibility of going to Sumatra to help out WWF-Indonesia.

Wait...what? Sumatra?

It came out of nowhere and took me off-guard.

I don’t take any opportunity in tiger conservation lightly so I started to consider both WWF-Indonesia and WWF-Thailand equally. I considered...and considered...and considered...

There were many things to think about. There is no doubt the benefits of staying in Thailand are many. I wouldn’t have to travel as far and I would already know the official language. From what I hear, there is a lot of experience and knowledge to be tapped in the Thailand program and I would also have the benefit of living in a country where the government is more apt to help the conservation cause (compared to other countries). Lastly, I would be in a more agreeable climate and there would probably be less things that could kill me in Thailand compared to Sumatra.

On the other side, going to Sumatra has its benefits too. In regards to conservation, Sumatra seems to be worse off and there could be a greater potential to have a greater impact. My contact at WWF is more familiar with the staff there and she listed a number of opportunities. The government is less responsive to conservation and big business and corruption is wide-spread...it could be a challenge, but such a challenge might be what I need. Also, given the incredible species diversity there, any benefit I can achieve for tigers could help many others such as elephants, rhinos and orangutans...and increases in the well being of these species could potentially be linked with increases in local community standards of living too. I am already linked to WWF-Indonesia to some degree...in 2007 I started a petition to address illegal coffee being grown in a national park in Sumatra. The goal was to gain signatures to help WWF negotiate with the buyers of this coffee, which was threatening species like tigers, to implement better controls on purchases. Word must have gotten around because the contact I mentioned who works for WWF-International somehow knew about me from the petition when I first emailed her. Lastly, tigers in Sumatra seem to be in more desperate need for help...Indonesia has already lost two subspecies of tigers in the past half-century and it is believed the Sumatran tiger is well on its way out.

I struggled with deciding what I wanted to pursue for over a month – after all, the decision I make could have a profound effect on my career...and on tigers. I tried as much as possible to leave superficial elements out of the picture such as what is “easy”. What is easy isn’t necessarily what is right. Through difficulties, we can better ourselves. Some of the cons about going to Sumatra fail to matter when put up against the real issue: making a difference and truly getting the skills and experience I need. It doesn’t matter how expensive, how unpleasant, or how dangerous things are, what matters is the work I do.

I didn’t ask for opportunities in Sumatra, but they were offered. After the initial surprise of having Sumatra mentioned and I found myself evaluating Sumatra more than Thailand: trying to find out all the bad things and good things and using Thailand as a baseline. In this sense, I tended to have a bias. Perhaps the opportunity tempted me. Like a game show...you could take the prize you’ve won or give it up and open door number two!

In the end, both are excellent choices and it inevitably comes down to instinct or intuition.

One night, I sat in bed thinking. At the time I was leaning slightly toward Sumatra, but had not been sure enough to make any sort of decision. There was no superior benefit to going there that inspired a confident decision and I felt no matter what I chose, it would benefit me greatly. I was in my bedroom, staring at the ceiling and looking for a sign... I was prompted to look at “animal cards” that were given to me one Christmas. Each card has a description of a certain animal and by drawing an animal card, you can get insight, lessons...a sign that could point you in the right direction. You see, those closest to nature, like indigenous populations, learn lessons from nature. The appearance of a wolf-pack can bring attention to social needs and a tiger is associated with power and independence. Usually one shuffles the cards, letting chance dictate what comes up. However, I didn’t have to shuffle...the tiger card was sitting on top. In my curiosity, I looked at the description on the back of the card. In the description, the author made several references to Sumatra. Of the possible 14 tiger range countries that could have been mentioned, it was Indonesia, and specifically, Sumatra that was used.

...wow...

Okay... I was in bed looking for a sign and on a whim, got up to a deck of animal cards, looked at the tiger card which happened to be the first card I saw and saw Sumatra mentioned more than 3 times. It was too coincidental and I felt that was the final push. I shrugged and said to myself, “Sumatra it is!”

The course of my life as it pertains to tigers has been one of curious events and coincidences that have reinforced my belief that I am meant to be doing what I am doing. I don’t give up all my thinking to serendipity... I prefer the use of logic. Nevertheless, sometimes the signs are there and I am learning to embrace them as a complementary force to my own judgement.

Thailand Journal – Entry 8 – The Day that Never Comes

2008-10-18T15:03:00.003+07:00

The reason I came to Thailand was to help tigers and when I had landed in Bangkok, I felt a surge of confidence. I wanted to get out there and help. However, over time, I found myself not being very much of a help at all.

I think it was foolish of me to get so worked up before getting here because I wouldn’t start my field placement (thus, having a more direct impact) until January. Rather, the first half of the year would be spent in the classroom and not necessarily anything that has direct relevance to tiger conservation. I came in on a high and quickly crashed down into the ground. At this stage, I wouldn’t be doing anything and that really bothered me. Ever since I knew I wanted to help tigers, I wanted to be in a tiger range country because that would allow me to help, but here I am and I’m not doing much of anything at all... school or not, I never saw it as much of an excuse. After all, Mark Twain tells us that we should not let schooling interfere with our education.

I decided to go out into the streets of Chiang Mai to see if I can find any products made from tigers and other endangered species. The plan was that anything I found I would report to the proper authorities and they would check it out. I took several trips to the Night Bazaar, perused the nooks and crannies of the city and found very little. What I did find was isolated and rather than reporting them to a police that likely wouldn't bother with small fish, I read them the riot act and informed them of the risks they were taking. I took a taxi ride far from home to “Chinatown”...well, actually, the driver didn’t know where it was so I got dropped off and walked the rest of the way. I thought that, considering violations could be found in the Chinatowns of Toronto, New York and Vancouver, I should have no trouble there. It turned out that “Chinatown” was more like a ghost town and though the buildings were not derelict, they were certainly unoccupied. “Coming soon”, perhaps...

I made long journeys home with blistered feet and a calloused spirit. The “glass-is-half-full” people would say, “Why are you upset if you aren’t finding these products?”. Well, the problem is that I know the illegal wildlife trade has a place in Chiang Mai...I know it is out there and if I am not finding it, that means I’m not doing a good enough job. Perhaps, I should have tried to look in Bangkok...it is far more prevalent there and I probably could have been put to good use. Another place that could be checked out would be Thai-Burma border towns, but I would need advising from experts before I go there.

My frequent trips around town left me with a lingering frustration that turned into a small bout of depression. This wasn’t helped by the cold that I had been afflicted with; the medication I was taking had the unfortunate side-effect of frequent and persistent nose-bleeds. My pride was also hurt by the fact that no one seems to give a damn about tigers here, despite the fact that there used to be plenty. It is all about elephants here, which is a good thing, but I’m disappointed that the tiger isn’t more culturally prevalent.

Oh well...every experience, no matter how much of a failure it seems, is an opportunity to learn.

Thailand Journal – Entry 6 - Zoo Trek

2008-10-14T19:00:00.006+07:00

During September, my school week consisted purely of the Thai oral language course, whereby I would be able to learn Thai and thus, fit in better with daily life. Class starts at 9:30am and runs until 3:30pm with a lunch break in between (I have found consistence in eating Chicken Fried Rice everyday for about USD $1). This occurs for most of the week excluding the weekend and, thankfully, Wednesday.

I took the opportunity one Wednesday to visit the Chiang Mai Zoo, which has since become a key part of local tourism after the introduction of two giant pandas. The two panda’s (and the zoo) enjoy great popularity in Chiang Mai and an extra charge was established at the zoo just to see them. Captive pandas are, like their wild cousins, rare and only a handful exist outside China. I saw this as an exciting bonus.

The first thing to be noted about the zoo is that it is built upon the side of a mountain. Anyone who is not a fan of the trek to the North American exhibit at the Toronto Zoo would likely elect to patronize the zoo’s monorail system. I chose to walk and although the heat was occasionally oppressive, I’ve done enough volunteering at Jungle Cat World to handle a bit of physical exertion in less than ideal environments.

I will make no qualms about it: I went straight to the big cats, which were conveniently located together in a large system of adjoining enclosures with mock-rock ridges dividing them. Though I came to see the Bengal tigers (a sub-species I have not seen since the summer of 2004), I was interested to see the other cats as well which included a jaguar with two cubs, three leopards (one melanistic or “black”), two white tigers (actually leucystic), a pair of African lions with a cub (a few months old) and a pair of white lions. The latter showed signs of inbreeding, which is what happens when a rare genetic trait in big cats meets overwhelming popularity. However, I was pleased to see that the information given at the white tiger enclosure noted that they are not a separate subspecies in need of special wild conservation plans (which is a far too common misconception exploited by some nefarious “zoo” operators). It seemed as though they were breeding them though, which is something I don’t really feel comfortable with given the problems arising from aforementioned inbreeding.

I found it interesting that for a good part of the day, a table was set up in front of the jaguar enclosure advertising the prospect of feeding them for a small fee. This entailed giving visitors a long stick with a piece of meat to wave around and give the cats through the fence. From what I saw, the zoo staff member was demonstrating that it is more interesting to let them work for their food. I’m not entirely sure whether there are limits to how much gets fed to the jaguars or if it really is such a good idea for joe public to have such close contact, but if funding goes back to the zoo to better the care of the animals and if the animals are enriched by having to work for their food, perhaps it is a good idea. It is an interesting enrichment idea, but I’d have to check with greater minds to see if this is a valid practice.

The African lion enclosure was very spacious , not to mention gorgeous and the male lion seemed active enough. He seemed to be wary of me, but his attention didn’t hold for long. The cub made great sport out of bothering his dad, which was quite fun to watch, although part of me worried the male would give a good swat. Fortunately, that didn’t happen and the big male simply got up in frustration and walked to another location to nap.

I spent most of the day at the Bengal tiger enclosure, which seemed not as generous with space as the lion enclosure and for want of enrichment, but respectable, compared to most zoos. I arrived to see a male (distinguished by his big boofy head) grooming himself near the back of the enclosure. He was soon prompted to get up and start patrolling the front of his enclosure, which has likely become routine with the number of guests that visit – he’s got to protect his mate after all. When the guests slowed to a trickle and I became part of the scenery, the male retired to the shade and began napping. I returned later and he eventually patrolling his enclosure again, but this time, the female joined him, who was naturally a bit smaller. I’m different from most people in that, I can go to a zoo and spent almost the entire time in front of the tiger enclosure, even when they are not active; this is why I will go to a zoo alone: people wouldn’t be able to put up with my stubbornness. I firmly believe that tigers are one of the most beautiful animals to ever live on this planet and their behaviour fascinates me to no end. If I’m not simply consumed by their presence, I will try to predict their behaviour and occasionally I throw out the occasional chuff to see if they would reply (it worked at the Toronto Zoo a few times, albeit in closer proximity). When they rest, I’ll think. If my fateful experience at that zoo in 2004 has taught me anything (aside from purpose), it is that for all the beautiful photos of tigers, they fail to compare with seeing one alive and in the flesh. I get drunk on the experience and it often inspires me for an extended period after I leave.

I did visit other areas of the zoo, include the pandas. I was quite amused by their behaviour, which seemed to match the characature that was engrained in my mind. One of them seemed quite content with a large bush of bamboo in front of it, sitting upright to inspect the best pieces and chomping away blissfully. It eventually climbed on to a log for a snooze.

I scaled parts of the mountain where no visitor seemed to want to go, but I was able to see some interesting ungulates like bantang (an endangered SE Asian bovid), and even Eld’s deer (one of the most endangered, if not the most endangered deer on the planet. The latter formed a large heard that completely surrounded me as I walked through them, watching me in silent unease. It was quite eerie, but at the same time amusing to have so many eyes following your every move. I couldn’t help but remind myself of a tiger strolling through a grassland occupied by deer.

While up on the mountain, I began to feel the trickle of rain. I whipped out the umbrella not a moment too soon as the trickle soon turned into a torrent. This seems to be usual for Thailand: rain will appear virtually from out of nowhere only to give way soon afterwards to a sunny sky. I assume this is especially true for mountainous areas as the topography means air pushed up their slopes cools, looses the ability to hold moisture and dumps the moisture as rain. However, this time, the rain continued to fall in large quantities for longer. I stayed at the tiger enclosure, which had a walkway shielded from the rain. The rain lasted for an hour or two (the lions didn’t seem to happy) and as it died down I decided to make the trip back home. A red-taxi ride through town showed me just how much rain had fallen. One street seemed to be flooded with about 6 inches of rain.

...and this was at the end of the rainy season.

Thailand Journal – Entry 6 - A Tiger Among Elephants

2008-10-08T15:10:00.003+07:00

As part of my stay in Thailand, I was to move into the home of a Thai family for at least one month. Needless to say, I was a little nervous. I am usually very appreciative to the smallest of kind gestures made by strangers so knowing that people are allowing me to move in with them for a month is a bit hard to swallow. Naturally, I’d be giving them some monetary support, but that wouldn’t really compensate for the commitment.

I learned that my homestay family were a retired couple who have hosted over 8 other students in the past. “Good”...I thought... “they should be no problems communicating with them in English while I learn Thai”. Wrong.

Upon meeting the family, I learned that they spoke very little English. A bit surprising, but not unmanageable; moreover, it is my responsibility to learn to fit into to Thai culture rather than people fitting into what I am used to. The mother is kind, though that kindness and generosity is often masked by what seems to be a frown as well as a commanding body language which might be a relic of her days as a school teacher. The father is a fantastic chef who aims to please; I often catch him out of the corner of my eye watching me eat, perhaps looking for signs that I don’t like his cooking. He has a strong demeanor, which is softened by the flash of a smile.

Their house, I am told, is of a more traditional Thai architecture. It is mostly made of wood, standing upon stills, though there are some brick and concrete supports. The family lives upstairs, which has bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room and an indoor-outdoor central deck where laundry is hung. I live on the first floor, which features a spacious room, likely previously shared between at least 2 of their 4 children who have since moved on to Bangkok and PhDs. I also have a bathroom, which some westerners might be a little unnerved by. At night, turning on the light is almost like watching a scene from a horror movie; the light flickers on and off before staying lit, revealing water-stained concrete and the specters of creepy crawlies who infiltrate by night. The shower consists of a faucet, a Tupperware bin and a small bowl. It is no substitute for a nice hot shower, but it works (a nice splash of cold water in the morning wakes you up). In addition to a sink and a toilet, I also have a urinal. Not standard in private washrooms in the west, but I love it. It is great for those late night, semi-conscious bathroom trips where you concentrate just as much as standing as well as aiming. Having the urinal is like having the simplest of cameras: just point and shoot.

The fan in my room is a blessing. Even though my room seems to be naturally cooler due to not having direct sunlight stream in through the windows, it still gets fairly hot. A more unmanageable frustration is that the windows act better as curtains than actual windows (at least from the glass-sliding, noise reducing ones I am used to). They consist of tinted glass panels that slide together, but do little to block out sound. Every night and early morning, I am a restless audience member to the orchestra of dogs barking (both outside my window and throughout the neighborhood) and cock-a-doodle-doos of resident chickens. I was intrigued to hear from my host father as he excitedly explained that the neighborhood has chickens that crow in the morning to wake you up. I would have been less intrigued if I knew that they would be doing this at 5 AM. Ultimately, a sound sleep can be hard to come by.

Currently, I’ve reached the end of my homestay and have elected to move into an apartment closer to the school. In addition to lack of quality sleep another problem has been social awkwardness perpetuated by significant communication and generation gaps which, for all my efforts, have been difficult to bridge; moreover, in order to get to school, I must pay for rides by taxi drivers who I have to aggressively barter with for fair prices and sometimes even for the ride itself (they are easily dismayed by the distance I ask them to travel). I only hope that the homestay family doesn’t feel rejected or dismayed, which would be unfounded.

I’ll miss hearing that pathetic, off-key version of Auld Lang Syne every time I open the fridge.

Edit: Photos and video!

Thailand Journal – Entry 5 – The Origins

2008-09-24T13:08:00.007+07:00

Mood: Humbled

It dawned on me about a week after I started this blog, which is centered on my attempt to get into tiger conservation in Thailand, that I haven’t even dedicated a post to telling why it is I decided to get into conservation in the first place! It would certainly be a good idea to fill anyone in who might not know.

In reality, my decision to go into tiger conservation was hardly the result of one single event, but the confluence of many different things. I’ve spent the time mapping out the different influences in my life that prepared me to make the decision, but describing them here would require a considerable amount of time. Instead, I’ll focus on the most relevant influences which, occurring within the span of about a year, pushed me to dedicate my life to ensuring the long term survival of the species.

Even though I consider this a shortened version, it still is over 3,000 words long. Some might not care, but I just wanted to give a heads up.

The Tome

I would be lying if I said I felt the same way about tigers my whole life, but I know harboured a mild appreciation for them. The problem was that I cannot remember having too much exposure to tigers. Of all the Animal Planet and Discovery Channel I watched, I can remember more about snakes, Steve Irwin, lions and sharks. I remember the charismatic characters from the Lion King, but not Shere Khan, whose role in The Jungle Book was villainous, for want of screen time and, ultimately, forgettable. Nevertheless, there must have been something that caused me to like tigers...when I can trace myself back to the deepest of roots, I’ll let you know.

In late 2003, I was in my fourth year of high school (normally the last) and was assigned a final essay for English class which centered on deriving themes, arguments and evidence from a novel. The choice of novel was to be ours and since I was hardly a literary connoisseur, I went to a local book store to see if anything jumped out at me. Something did... out of the labyrinth of literature, I stumbled upon a beast far more fascinating than the minotaur. It was a tiger, and its ferocious visage was leaping out of the cover of a book I had pulled off the shelf. It was this visual that I was drawn to. The book I found is called “Life of Pi” by Yann Martel and chronicles the adventure of a young, shipwrecked boy drifting perilously in the vast Pacific Ocean with the only companion being a Bengal tiger. At the same time, the book explores deep religious and spiritual themes, boasting that it is a tome which will inspire one’s faith in God.

Anyone who has gone through high school English class knows that you aren’t supposed to like the books you have to read. Books reports and essays are dreadfully dull experiences that give us a new appreciation for our free time. However, this book was much too profound for me to dislike it and I took from it an unlikely interest in religion, spirituality and mythology. I eventually, became interested in the world’s most prevalent religions and discovered, past the dogma and within the spiritual core, how similar and beautiful they really were. I also found my first true introduction to the species which would later define my life.

The tiger in the book was depicted as being terrible and ferocious, which is a common image we conjure; from a child, we learn that tigers go “ROAR!” and can be big and scary. The book appeals to such feelings of tigers which enhances the danger involved with sharing a small boat with one. However, the author researched enough about tigers to discover that they are not so one-dimensional. While reading, I found out about something called “prusten” or “chuffing” – in close quarters, a tiger in an agreeable and friendly mood will gesture to camaraderie with a series of short puffs through the nose. I was intrigued by this idea, which built upon ideas I discovered from Steve Irwin (the Croc Hunter) that even the scariest of creatures can have some of the greatest virtues and that we should look past the facade of “heartless beast” to understand just how much we can relate to animals. While the main character struggled with the tiger’s natural tendency for frightening aggression and independence, he looked upon the tiger as a friend. I, too, felt the pull of relationship. Coupled with the spiritual themes I was discovering, my introduction into the world of tigers felt magical and I couldn’t resist wanting to find out more. We are indeed, in the same boat.

The Video

My English class eventually ended in early 2004, though I was still attached to the book. Winter became spring and spring gave way to summer. Though finished with my final year of high-school, I elected to return for half a year – I didn’t feel prepared to move on to university where I would pursue modern arts. I had begun working at an amusement park, which would likely end up being one of the worst experiences of my youth. Almost paradoxically, that summer would also play host to one of the greatest moments of my life.

One day, I was preparing to go to work and decided to eat my breakfast in front of the television. I began watching Animal Planet and noticed WWF-Canada was broadcasting a television show which served to educate people about wildlife species extinction and to ask for donations. I was already well imbued with a strong environmental ethic so I watched intently. My interest increased when they began to reveal information about tigers. I knew the tiger was an endangered species so much of what they said I was already familiar with; however, the information was presented with horrific images. The video that burned its images most deeply into my mind was that of hunters chasing down a tiger with a pack of dogs before cornering it and stabbing it to death. Though we deny animals like tigers our standards of expression, the level of pain one could see as the tiger lay frightened and dying was vivid. The tigress killed happened to be a mother and video was shown of her cubs being loaded into the back of a truck, starved to death and frozen, having lost their most important link to survival.

Up until that point, I do not think had ever seen something so emotionally scarring. I was so distraught that I called in sick at work and spent the day in my room struggling to comprehend what I had experienced. I had built up a tremendous love for the tiger and was unprepared for the truth of what was happening to the species. Looking back, I can appreciate, for all the trauma, the necessity for what was shown to me. Feeding people statistics can work for some, but most people will respond to emotional images (this was confirmed by my brother, the psychologist). Case and point, it helped to jolt me into action.

The Photo

The revelations of the tiger’s status in the wild hit home with the striking images I had seen; however, I was only given a brief glimpse of why the species was in such trouble. I set forth to find out more, primarily using Internet resources.

It didn’t take long for me to discover the horrifying truth of why the tiger is in trouble: it is being eaten into extinction. I found out the tiger was being killed in the wild so that its body parts could be consumed in Traditional Chinese Medicine as well as in exotic dishes like tiger penis soup (supposedly a dish that increases virility). I also found out about rapid habitat loss and prey depletion, but the fact that this magnificent animal, associated with divinity in many cultures, was being reduced to magic potions and sexual stimulants angered and sickened me. This wasn’t a health care issue, this wasn’t about cultural sovereignty and respect, this was about pride and avarice...pride and avarice that are resulting in the complete annihilation of an entire species. Millions of years of evolution that created a god among beasts brought to an end in an instant to satiate wretched egos.

I saw the images of the tiger’s apocalypse: truck-loads of bones, dried penises hanging in stores like ornaments of death and boxes of tiger wine arranged like tombstones. However, not even these images, nor those I saw in that fateful video could desensitize me to what I saw next.

With my growing love for the tiger, I had taken great pleasure in collecting some of the greatest images I could find online of these beautiful animals. Google image search helped me out and I made short work looking through the vast archive of pictures taken by the world’s best wildlife photographers and created by artists with incredible talent. I eventually came across a black and white image of a tiger that I couldn’t quite make out. I enlarged the photo and what I found tore my heart in two.

The photo depicts a tiger hanging upside-down in a cage in being rolled to a market center where it will be torn apart, having its body parts sold to the highest bidder and its blood bottled. Whether it was alive when the photo was taken, I do not know, but the effect would be the same no matter what. The way the tiger is staring up at the photo, caged, tied, humiliated, helpless, about to be utterly ripped asunder while shadowy figures look down upon its defeated form...its eyes just pierce you, pleadingly, as if asking for help.

The photo summarized everything I had come to feel about the tiger’s fate. To see something I loved and respected so much reduced to such humiliation brought about a unique kind of emotional trauma that I wouldn’t attempt to describe with words. I don’t know if I felt more anger or sorrow, but I remember an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and shame...shame that I was part of a species that could render such horrors and hopeless as it seemed nothing could defeat such indescribable cruelty. That photo made me feel so many terrible things, but I can honestly say that had I not seen it, I probably would not be on the path I am on today, which makes it all the more powerful.

I keep a copy of this photo in my wallet in case I need any motivation.

The Encounter

I continued to find about tigers using resources available online. However, I was compelled to visit a zoo and see tigers for myself. I remember going on a school trip to the Toronto Zoo once, but I was too preoccupied with friends to care about any of the animals. I wanted to be able to see them in the flesh...alone, with no one to distract me. I took a week’s vacation from work at a cottage north of Toronto and researched nearby zoos. A zoo called Elmvale was the closest so I decided to make the 30 minute trip and spend the day there.

I remember it was a hot, sticky day. I meandered around the zoo with a mild interest in the animals, following the paths laid out; however, I was waiting. I scanned every new enclosure hoping to see a streak of stripes. Eventually, I spotted two eyes looking out at me from an enclosure partially obscured by trees. It was a Bengal tiger and I must have excited its feline instincts by moving in and out of view. My heart leapt with excitement and my heart rate increased. The tiger, satisfied, then moved on to other matters. I could see more tigers in another enclosure so I walked over to them.

They were a pair of white tigers, lounging under some shade and had taken small notice of my arrival, a simple glance. I lounged as well. I stayed in that very spot for over 3 hours, just watching. Then, lo, something happened; no one was around and the tigers had both gotten up and made their way over to where I was watching. After a brief look-around, pacing back and forth, they found a spot and sat down. The male looked up at me with stunning blue eyes. At the time, I would tell you that you would not know magnificence until you have locked eyes with a tiger. The gaze pierced my soul, an unspeakable power rivalling the greatest of weapons. I looked away – I didn’t want the tiger to think I was being aggressive or defiant. He then got back up and patrolled along the outer regions of his keep and his mate followed, away from me. I wondered why the tigers had found me so uninteresting, considering how fascinated I was as well. I had begun to realize that I was just another visitor until I then saw the male turn tail and trot over to my location once again. His pace was slow, but determined. Upon getting within about eight feet from me, looking into my eyes once again, he let out a sound. This sound, the quietest of tiger calls was the 'prusten' or 'chuffing' I come to know from Martel’s “Life of Pi” and audio clips online. This statement from the tiger was quiet, but it echoes in my heart to this day. As I revealed before, prusten is used to convey harmless intentions or friendliness. I was almost bowled over with emotion. I was on speaking terms with the tiger! The call was repeated and erased any doubt of its nature. I returned the gesture and the tiger laid back down and rolled over, looking up at me upside down with those blue eyes. It seemed as though he was being rather playful. I was blown away.

I stayed with the tigers for the entire day, watching their behaviour and experiencing chuffing once more. By the end of the day both tigers had honoured me with prusten and I was walking on air. However, it was not the end. I returned to the zoo for the next 3 days finding that the tigers had seemed to remember me - they followed me if I walked to another location, waiting if I were approaching. From what I saw, no other guest experienced this behaviour. I knew from then on that it was something special. Those white tigers (which are not a separate subspecies) were Bengal, but I have also received chuffs from Siberian tigers at Jungle Cat World (many, many chuffs) and even a Sumatran tiger at the Toronto Zoo.

I felt I had experienced something truly special...for me at least. I felt touched by something extraordinary...too incredible to comprehend. All the images, information, video, stories and sounds I knew of the tiger become real. I recalled what was happening to tigers and the war that they were losing. I recalled the cornered tigress dying scared and alone. I recalled the pleading gaze of the caged tiger waiting to be ripped apart. All the sorrow and pain returned. I saw all the zoo visitors walking around, not knowing or not giving a damn about any of these things...about any of the animals. I struggled with the thought of becoming one of those people and letting all that I felt slip away; however, I held on tighter to the things I felt and the things I had learned.

Looking back, the tiger chuffing at me could be interpreted as many things: from a sign of God to a series of electrical impulses in the tiger’s brain in reaction to a stimulus. I saw it as the key which had unlocked my destiny, the caged tiger that had been locked deep within. It was the spark that had set alight my heart, burning with passion. It was a hymn of hope. It was the offering of a choice. In the months afterwards my choice became all the more clear. I had to act.

I had spent all of high-school pursuing the arts and had a specific interest in photography and was never good in science. I entertained the thought of becoming a wildlife photographer and transitioning into conservation, but deep down, I knew that it would never be good enough. Valmik Thapar, perhaps India’s most prevalent tiger conservationist said “the tiger commands a deep involvement from those who pursue it”. I was pursuing the tiger and the tiger didn’t have much time left. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I was going to try...I was committed. I eventually applied to a university which offered environmental sciences and got accepted, but before that, I had fuelled my thirst for action by researching tigers and volunteering with organizations that helped to protect them. I eventually became knowledgeable enough to teach people about tigers and how they could help as well. Just over three years after I met that tiger, I was invited to be a part of the International Tiger Coalition, which has some of the most respected organizations and conservationists out there.

Humans have shown that they have the power to change the world, for better or for worse and with this power they must understand that they have an obligation that surpasses all known responsibilities in order to foster all living things. With this logic, Paola Manfredi states that “the tiger’s right to survive as a species overrides the rights of individual men to extirpate them” and “such preservationism is ethically justifiable under any moral or social code we can think of.” As someone who cares, I feel responsible to act. I feel that I must not only leave this world in a better state than it was in when I got here, but that the tiger’s world is secured indefinitely and long after I die. I am proud to have something I believe in so strongly and that I discovered it so early, but humbled that I still have a long way to go.

Photo by Colin Dunjohn

Thailand Journal – Entry 4 - To Chiang Mai

2008-09-20T13:21:00.006+07:00

Mood: Inquisitive

I’ve been lagging behind on the journal entries so there will be no shortage of stories to tell once I get time to actually post them, albeit they will be a bit dated.

After visiting the Grand Palace in Bangkok, we drove by Tuk-tuk (three-wheeled motor cars with a small carriage behind the driver) to a massage parlour. I was apprehensive at the thought of having some stranger poke and prod me, but only for a few moments; it dawned on me that I must take advantage of opportunities to try new things and to “leap first and think later” in certain situations. It was a wise decision because the Thai massage was absolutely wonderful. I was so relaxed that I almost fell asleep.

My stay in Bangkok would (unfortunately) be short-lived. That evening, I packed my things and endured heavy traffic to the train station where I would begin a 13-hour overnight trip to the northern region of Thailand and the city of Chiang Mai. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep on the train as the beds provided were surprisingly comfortable; however, shortly after drifting off a group of Americans boarded nearby and (not helping to shed American tourists’ reputation for being obnoxious) conversed loudly and without restraint. Eventually, the train became silent, save for the clickity-clack of the train wheels and I had a reasonably restful sleep.

I awoke at dawn and spent the last few hours on the train watching the scenery speed by. The human-dominated landscapes contrasted sharply with deep green forests. I saw no wildlife to excite my hope that tigers still roamed the latter; however, I couldn’t help but wonder whether there was a tiger out there, struggling with a precarious selection of resources upon which it could survive and avoiding the humans which quickly convert what’s left. I casually perused one of the latest “Tiger Conservation Landscape” reports, evaluating just where tigers exist in Thailand – they lack a true stronghold where their long-term persistence can be assured and their occupation is spotty at best, but there is potential. Scientifically, we know what needs to be done, but our understanding of how to address tiger-human dynamics is anything but certain...otherwise the tiger would have been saved already and I wouldn’t even be here.

After pulling into Chiang Mai, I hopped aboard a Song-Tow (a sort of converted pick-up truck with a rear-cabin to hold a group of people) and crossed the city to Chiang Mai University’s International Center Hostel. I took notice that Chiang Mai was slightly cooler than Bangkok and though this might be primarily due to latitudinal variation in temperature, the former had far more vegetation, which has a cooling affect on the local landscape. The city is surrounded by green mountains, which excited my sense of adventure.

Over the next few days, I sampled some of the city sights, aided by a group of kind, English-speaking CMU students. I was pleased to see that there was no shortage of broken english (or "Engrish"), which can be quite amusing. One apartment advertised a "big pipe of Internet!" and after asking about it to one of my Thai friends he happily acknowledged it, saying "Yes...BIG pipe". Unfortunately, I wasn't able to find any pipes of internet though, let alone big ones.

I was, however, able to get to know the four other students in the program and gave out business cards detailing what they could do to help stop the illegal trade in endangered species, which I hear has a niche in Chiang Mai’s various markets (more of that later...). It didn't take long for everyone to acknowledge my love for tigers as a defining characteristic of myself and I've become a bit of an archetype, although I have no problem with this. The program coordinators have affectionately called me "Seua" (pronounced in a rising tone as if asking a question) which means "tiger" in Thai.

I also had the opportunity to look at some reports penned by former students of the program, detailing their own experiences with community or NGO work. I was intrigued to read one report by a student who participated in swidden agriculture (whereby the landscape is burned to free up nutrients stored in existing organic matter so they can be accessible to crops planted in the cleared area) in a hill tribe community. I don’t know much about swidden agriculture, though I know how damaging it can be to local ecosystems. In more tropical climates, most of the nutrients in the ecosystem are locked up in organic matter rather than the soil; when this matter is burned, it is released, but not all of it is returned to the soil, which is otherwise quite nutrient poor. Over time, the nutrients endemic to the ecosystem are washed away through erosion and agriculture must eventually switch to a new patch of land. So, in addition to the blatant loss of wildlife and wild habitat destroyed by fire, the loss of nutrients means that recovery of the ecosystem to its natural state may take an unfathomable amount of time. While this practice has been occurring for quite some time, never has it been occurring at such a massive scale, given the increases in human populations. This form of agriculture has become an unfortunate key component in the current mass extinction event we are rendering onto the life of earth; much of swidden agriculture occurs in the tropics where species richness is greatest.

(Feel free to correct me if I got it wrong...it's been quite some time since I studied ecology)

In the report, the student used elegant wording which effectively romanticized the process of hill tribe agriculture and marvelled at the sight of an entire mountain engulfed in flames. I wonder if the student had stopped to think about the implications of this form of agriculture or if they simply believed it to be acceptable by right of it being commonplace within another culture. I would think that the sight of an entire mountain of forest being set ablaze might raise questions on the environmental implications to most western students, whether or not they particularly care about such implications. However, these environmental implications were never mentioned. Trent University students are quite environmentally conscious so I wondered if there was some other reason for not commenting on the environmental impacts of swidden agriculture.

It would be indeed be arrogant of me to conclude whether the agricultural practices of this specific community were “good” or “bad” because there exists significant lacunae in my understanding of local conditions, both ecological and anthropological. Nevertheless, it caused me to wonder about the interaction of foreign beliefs or understanding with a different set of beliefs and understanding within the realm of “culture”. Applying to the Thailand Year Abroad Program, I was warned time and time again of the pitfalls of judging foreign culture and practices based on my personal beliefs. As a participant of the program, I am meant to learn by being an impartial observer, immersed in a culture I should respect and, therefore, accept. I can understand and appreciate the reasoning for this; however, reading the student’s report, I began to wonder if some students had become so distant from their own ideas, opinions and beliefs that they didn’t allow themselves the opportunity to question what they experienced for fear they could be accused of being culturally intolerant. There is indeed a fine line to walk between cultural insensitivity and upholding a global citizen’s responsibility to make their world a better place through questioning how we, as a species, conduct ourselves; however, I think that is no excuse to avoid walking that line.

Consider the issue of endangered species in Traditional Chinese Medicine. In the 1980’s, tiger conservationists discovered that India’s tigers were disappearing from the very parks established to protect them. It was eventually discovered that tigers were being killed and exported to China where their body parts would be used to make medicine under the Traditional Chinese Medicine (or TCM) system. This system of health care is widely accepted in China and has been practiced for thousands of years. More recently, however, the demand for tiger parts increased and the South China subspecies of tiger was virtually wiped out; TCM had turned to other countries to provide tigers and their coveted body parts. Panic spread throughout the conservation community and campaigns began to address this issue. However, those seeking to save the tiger from being eaten into extinction had to tread carefully...with the cause of poaching being linked directly to TCM, the issue might have been interpreted as one culture versus another and an attack on Chinese sovereignty from the west. I am sure those heavily invested in tiger medicines attempted to paint the issue as such, but the conservation community was successful in convincing China to respond. In 1993, trade in tiger parts and derivatives was banned in China and government sponsored ad campaigns warned of the implications of buying medicines with tiger parts. I find it fascinating that tiger conservationists dared to question what was seen as part of another culture and dared to call upon action to change processes which were detrimental to something they valued. I would be lying if I said I knew exactly how they did it, but observing the recent actions of the International Tiger Coalition in response to a lobby in China seeking to dissolve the 1993 ban, I’ve been able to get a sense of how they situation may have been handled. The conservation community has interacted intimately with the TCM community. A forum of mutual respect has been able to give rise to culturally acceptable solutions which involve herbal alternatives to tiger parts and action within the TCM community to remove tiger parts from acceptable ingredients. Many representatives of this community have spoken out against poaching of tigers for their body parts, citing their responsibility not only to their patients, but also to the planet. Moreover, the TCM community does not want to be blamed for the extinction of the tiger.

It is possible that we, as fellow humans, can learn from each other and question what we do for the sake of creating a better future. We should not promote cultural imperialism or an international cultural monoculture nor should we promote apathy. Instead, I think we need to uphold our respect of our inherent potential as a species while maintaining a healthy level of humility, reminding ourselves that we are not perfect...that no person, no group of people and no culture is perfect. We are greatness in the making, shedding the mistakes of generations past, but building upon its triumphs. We still have far to go... we currently cannot seem to coexist sustainably and peacefully with the environment and wildlife even though we rely on the persistence and integrity of the latter for our own survival. However, that doesn’t mean we can’t. Every religion, every country, every culture has, embedded within their value systems, virtues which promote our responsibility to protect and sustain nature as well as ourselves. If we dig deeper and allow ourselves to forgo pride, we can incorporate these virtues and ideas into our own lives, and share our own with others while still maintaining our own independence.

I was incredibly moved by an Indigenous Environmental Studies course I took in my second year at university – the ideas in the course, though centered on the world view of Haudenosaunee culture, was relevant to all cultures. When the Dutch interacted with the Haudenosaunee people, the Haudenosaunee created a wampum belt depicting two horizontal lines upon a background of white. These two lines symbolized a Dutch boat and a Haudenosaunee canoe. The idea was that these boats, representative of two different cultures, were travelling together along the river of life...applied within a larger context, we as a species, travel along the same river together. It is possible that both vessels can navigate close enough to each other that they can exchange tips on how to navigate this river or provide other kinds of aid; however, the boats must not attempt to steer each other nor crowd out other boats. With diversity comes strength for us to navigate this river of life, even when the river becomes difficult to navigate. I think it is a wonderful analogy that one should keep in mind when interacting with different cultures and one I will keep in mind when touring the many wonderful vessels of culture we travel upon.

Thailand Journal – Entry 3 – A Brief Disclaimer

2008-09-16T12:30:00.002+07:00

Mood: Anxious

I would like to apologize in advance...my internet activity is anything but consistent at the moment. I'm trying to find a groove to get into, but with the beginning of classes, things are still a tad chaotic. It may take some time for me to reply to any messages you send. Rest assured they are read and they are most certainly appreciated. It is nice to know there are people out there rooting for you, even if you do feel isolated and alone.

I have also cleared up the matter about posting comments. Previously, you had to have an account to post comments on my blog which was the default setting. However, I understand not everyone cares about blogging. I changed the settings to allow anyone to comment...just be sure to identify yourself so I know who is out there.

Cheers!

Thailand Journal – Entry 2 – Bangkok Bound

2008-09-12T10:31:00.000+07:00

Mood: Content

Well, I arrived safely, though the trip to Chiang Mai was a tiring one. I still have not slept in a real bed, but my spirits are high. I love traveling, especially when there is no pressing agenda.

Takeoff from Pearson International in Toronto was...uplifting. I had a permanent smile on my face due in part because of the feeling of soaring into the air at high speeds, but also because it was another one of those “first step” moments. The flight was short and uneventful.

Chicago saw a small level of stress as I had to run around frantically to figure out how to get my plane ticket within a couple of hours. I wasn’t taking American Airlines, but Japan Air (Sugoi!) My seat was situated at the top deck of the plane and after ticket-holders got settled, I was able to move to spot with ample leg-room, a window seat and a whole row to myself. Unfortunately, I couldn’t lie down and I never got any sleep on that 12+ hour flight. I did, however, get to see a number of cool things out my window.

The flight route took us into Manitoba, Northern Saskatchewan, up to Alaska and down the Bering Sea and Northern Pacific to Tokyo. I took solace seeing many of the pristine areas down below – there was nature, seemingly free of human influence (besides climate change, airborne pollutants and the occasional sound of an aircraft jet). I even saw glaciers and mountains...for the first time in my life! Down there was wilderness where wildlife could function and persist in an environment all their own...harsh, but full of life. I find it disappointing that such a concept seems incomprehensible for the majority of humans – something only has value when it is relevant to people and a world without people is godless, empty, irrelevant and dead. I see life in more than just humans and I find such places to be sublime for their own intrinsic worth.

My day would eventually last about 30 hours after less than 3 hours of sleep. As time wore on, I began to get extremely tired, though it was nothing I wasn’t used to at school and during the flight from Tokyo to Bangkok the kind Japanese waitresses happily bombarded me with smiles and caffeine. Spirits were high throughout the journey as everything was fresh and new. I even got to watch the new Indiana Jones movie on the plane (which was quite enjoyable). I also found myself watching the in-flight maps and seeing just how close I was getting to places with actual wild tigers! I wondered if there was a tiger somewhere on the prowl below while we were passing over Vietnam and Cambodia.

I would to first like to admit that I am a sufferer of “warm-fuzzy-feeling syndrome”. This condition usually arises when I am around tigers, looking at photos of tigers, feeling strong emotions about tigers etc. Symptoms include a feeling as if your heart is on fire, but engulfed in a pleasant, tingly warmth rather than pain. If you think this is weird, you are not alone: I think it is weird as well. I’m not sure what it is, but it is absolutely euphoric...it is another one of those “things” that make up the connection between me and tigers which others seem not to care for or understand. These symptoms began to manifest as we got close to landing in Thailand and eventually reached an apex when the plane was touching down. I’m sure it had something to do with finally being in “tigerland” and although I was in a city, I knew that this was a place where tigers had once roamed, a place I had not yet been in this life.

I finally arrived.

I exited the plane at a fast walking pace, fuelled by the warm and fuzzies in addition to the last cup of coffee. I knew I wasn’t going to run around in the jungle quite yet, though I was still anxious to get going. I was happy to see posters at customs warning visitors about the illegal wildlife trade and though they could have been more visible, I was calmed by their presence: there are many hard working conservationists in Thailand after all. My sense of urgency diminished and soundly silenced after claiming my luggage and I was able to enjoy the rainy sights of night-time Bangkok from the taxi taking me to the hostel.

I awoke after a deep, restful sleep to a muggy morning. The Thailand Year Abroad coordinators eventually gave us a tour of the city, which included a boat ride down one of Bangkok’s canals and a visit to the famed Grand Palace. I was awed by the incredible detail in the palace architecture, though I was mildly disappointed that tigers didn’t feature more. I was able to visit the much respected Emerald Buddha which was housed in a Sistine-Chapelesque golden building where the air was full to bursting with reverence. I found myself thinking about the story of the Buddha and the tigress: one of Buddha’s incarnations saw him a young wealthy price, but after coming across a starving tigress with cubs, he decided to offer his own flesh to her in a gesture of ultimate sacrifice and selflessness. The spot where the noble act occurred is marked with a temple called the Namobuddha in the mountains of Nepal where tigers still persist, perhaps due to the ultimate love of Buddhism for all creatures. The story is inspiring for someone like me and though I seek to do help tigers more in life, I am not afraid of personal suffering or death for this greater good. After all, as conservationist Eric Dinerstein said in his “Tigerland” book, “Every endangered species needs...at least one valiant person determined to turn the tide, at whatever personal cost”.

Thailand Journal – Entry 1: Adventure's Advent

2008-09-06T09:49:00.000+07:00

Mood: Optimistic

Where do I begin?

First of all, welcome to my humble blog. If you are reading this, you probably already know who I am. If you don't, I will fill you in: I am a young man who's self-assigned life mission is to not only prevent the tiger from going extinct, but to secure a long term future for the species! I have set up this blog in order to chronicle my new adventure in Thailand both for those who are interested, but also for myself. Be sure to check back often. Perhaps we can all learn something amidst my ramblings.

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There a few days are left before I depart on the biggest adventure of my life – to Thailand. I have been anticipating such an opportunity to set foot in a tiger range country ever since I realized I wanted to help save the world (for tigers anyway). I remember all the nights I sat awake, feeling a million miles away in a country where wild tigers never roamed. I felt held captive by inexperience, inadequacy and insufficient funds. Going on an adventure to save tigers didn’t seem like it would happen until much later in life...yet here I am.

The events leading up to my departure to Thailand seem too serendipitous and fateful to be true, something more befitting of an adventure novel. I never figured myself to be one of those “smug” or “rich” students who could study abroad, though that is not to say I didn’t want the opportunity. No, my desire was always hamstrung by the fact that I couldn’t afford it; at least that is what the school pamphlets always told me. Going to university allowed me the freedom to explore new opportunities for learning and as I grew I became more inclined to investigate such opportunities even if my initial feelings were such investigations would prove fruitless wastes of time. After reading a speech WWF-Canada President Emeritus Monte Hummel delivered to York University students in my first year, I was able to firmly appreciate the importance of practical learning experiences. The well respected conservationist announced that he would rather hire a student with actual experience and average marks over the bookworm who gets fantastic marks, but has never laced up a pair of hiking boots. I took those words quite seriously, imagining myself in a future job interview at a conservation organization like World Wildlife Fund. In this first year at university, I solidified a search image for any opportunity that might allow me to get such valuable experience that would be attractive to conservation organizations. After seeing advertisements for a study abroad fair on campus, I decided to take a look. I shuffled with mild interest from display to display, encouraged by opportunity, but with enthusiasm suppressed by doubt. I stopped at the booth for Thailand with an older individual standing alone in front of a giant map of the country. As for who started the conversation, I cannot recall; however, I do remember asking about whether Trent students who had traveled to Thailand had ever found themselves doing work for conservation. The old man chimed in happily that there had been cases where students did field work with World Wildlife Fund. My ears perked – mild interest gave way to a very cautious curiosity. I eventually learned that, due to the low costs of living in Thailand, students could essentially pay the same amount of money as if they were studying in Canada. I then was enlightened that, despite this being an Indigenous Studies program, I could actually earn credits towards my Environmental and Resource Studies degree. My Berlin Wall of apprehension and doubt was being chipped away bit by bit, but hearing such fantastic news was tantamount to trading hammers for bulldozers. I could actually get involved in conservation and study at the same time without having to be a rich. I was able to pursue the program with full-throttle enthusiasm, doubts reduced to dust. I began telling people I was going to Thailand only months into my first year, despite me not actually being accepted into the program until the final weeks of my second year. Everything had I ever wished for was taking form – I felt a strong sense of destiny associated with the program and the opportunities it had to offer. I harboured a quiet ferocity and tenacity that told me this was something I could not be denied and would fight tooth and claw to ensure it became reality. I was going...it was just a matter of time.

A summer of waiting has come to pass; months have turned to weeks and weeks into days. My excitement is growing, fuelled by the feeling that my career as a conservationist is truly beginning and the anticipation of adventure. It would be inappropriate to simply focus on this 8-month journey as a means to help tigers. Though it is well established that my life’s mission is the prime reason I decided to participate, I can appreciate that my stay in a foreign country, immersed in a foreign culture will inevitably offer profound lessons. I expect it to be a humbling experience – often the most important lessons are learned through hardship and by no means will this be a vacation. I am prepared to work hard and face adversity if it arises. I feel I owe it to myself and, ultimately, the species I have dedicated my life to serving. I’ll be a better person by the end.

An often quoted, perhaps cliched Chinese proverb declares, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step". Well, my friends, this is my running start.