A year later

Ah so 2009 is gone? So in the meantime I have been thinking about what it is I want to think/ write about. India, politics, education, environmental education and life in the US could be a start.

So this is a start:
We (Casey and I) are in Bharatpur Wildlife Sanctuary. The fog which has blanketed and clogged much of North India has lifted for a while. We are able now able to see the sights of this ailing sanctuary from our comfortable perch in the back of a cycle rickshaw. The water is gone - the birds that migrated here for the winter are out looking for newer grounds. But still as we creak on gently in our rickshaw there are owls, lots of tree pies, deers, macaques, an occasional peacock. Many of the star attractions are gone now (the Sarus crane is still seen occasionally) because of the dire water shortage, this is still a beautiful place at dusk. We stop near a meadow and walk. Our bird guide walks with us. He jumps, suddenly excited and charges ahead - we follow. It is a jackal! We stand still and watch. The fog is thickening, the sun is slowly dipping and the jackal is running gracefully - this damaged ecosystem evokes awe and serenity.

We are returning now. We talk as we bump along in our rickshaw. We are talking mainly to our driver - a strong old man who has worked here for many years (in this biting cold he only wears a shawl and cotton pants and a shirt). He and the bird guide (who is cycling next to us) are both sharing with us their well-worn story of the decline of the park. Not for the first time on this trip I am struck by the intense competition there is in India to make a living. Our rickshaw driver had to be awake at five am to be in line with his rickshaw in front of the sanctuary gates to have a shot at having customer today - there were some 40 other rickshaws there and not that many tourists at all. So perhaps 20 people would have no customers for the day! So much of the local economy is tied with the sanctuary - it is going to be tough going for the people here if this place declines any further.

It is now dark and we are still winding our way out of the park in the cool breeze. I know Casey and I are both silently considering the plight of these people we both like. I know we will give a generous tip. I also know that this will be followed by profuse thank yous from our dignified, old driver. I find it very difficult to be thanked in this way - there is desperation in that gratitude. This rankles especially after living in the US where people have a fierce sense of personal dignity no matter what their job. So we get back to the hotel (charming little place run by a local birding enthusiast) and Casey gives the tips. There are tears in the eyes of our driver and he wants to take us to the park the next morning too - he must, he insists.

"I am me"

I am a lapsed evolutionary biologist and now-pedagogist with an interest in learning many things about people, places, politics and policies. And I am still trying to figure what I want to be when I grow up.