In the Jungle

Nepal is turning out to be a wild experience, and a gorgeous country for that matter, like nothing I've expected.
After spending 3 days in the valley town of Pokhara, Nepal's 2nd largest city, surrounded by the awesome Annapurna mountain range, I set way for the Chitwan national park in the southern part of Nepal, as an excursion on my way back to the Indian border. Little did I know this would be a truly "wild" experience.

After losing my camera on the ride over, I got to the village of Sauraha in the eastern Terai region of Nepal a little distraught, thinking of the fact that I won't be able to take any pictures of animals in the jungle, and losing an important medium in conveying my experiences to other people. The place is a typical Nepali rice growing village with small mud houses and very simple style of living. Kids bathing outdoors and ducks and chickens in the front yards. the small wave of tourism that hit the village due to its proximity to Asia's most important national park brought up the building of fancy bungalows and hotels for rich safari tourists. But all that didn't seem to affect the slow pace and simple life in the village.

The next morning I was off to the jungle to see some wild animals and felt a little better about losing the camera. My to-be guide, Ramu, informed at about 7am that he won't be leading me into the jungle in the end, because he has to take his mother to the hospital, but his brother, Jenwa. A few moments later, Jenwa appeared in the mud house that functioned as a common room, office and restaurant in the guesthouse. A man in his late 30's, tall and skinny, black skinned, almost African-looking, soft spoken with a bee sting in his right eye and a long bamboo stick in his hand. "This is Jenwa, he lives in the jungle" Said Ramu with pride. And indeed, from the moment I set my eyes on him, I could feel he is a man who lives in nature. I felt this is a man I can trust to lead me into the vast wilderness where wild animals dwell, unbothered by human civilization. Jenwa's soft tone and relaxed character didn't seem to have to prove anything about his capabilities in the wild, as other guides I saw did. He just appears when called, and quietly does what he needs to do, much like an animal in the wild. He opened by saying: "I have little English, but I know the jungle". Later I learned his English was just fine, and he even knew the Latin names of some of the plants and animals we saw along our 10 hour walk in the park.


Lunch and water in our backpacks, Jenwa, me and another local boy set out to the other side of the Rapti river, where the boundaries of Chitwan begin. The rules of the park require at least 2 local people to accompany tourists in the park. So the boy had to join us, and it was good being only 3 - less noise and more chances of seeing the wildlife. We began with a short canoe sail along the river in the morning fog. The quiet of being in the middle of wilderness immediately took over my senses and I could relax. Sitting in the boat, I could see on the bank flocks of Siberian ducks who migrate to Nepal every winter, small blue kingfisher birds, peacocks crying out to eachother and black-tailed monkeys coming down to the river for a morning drink.

Our party of 3 got off the canoe, which we shared with another group of German tourists, led by clean-cut Nepali guides with good shoes and expensive clothes. For a moment I felt inadequate that all I could afford was this local jungle-boy, but I was quickly brought to my senses when Jenwa whispered to me as we got off the boat:"These guides, they from Kathmandu, they don't know the jungle, they only walk where jeep goes. I know where the animals are... come". As we started walking down the narrow animal trodden paths, I soon saw what he meant. He started walking very quietly and very slowly, so we are not noticed by any animal. This way we can get to see them and also to respect their natural habitat by remembering we are only guests here. And, as meditation practice has taught me, walking slowly and mindfully sharpens the senses and allows me to be truly present with all there is to experience in the nature around me - the sound of the crickets and the birds and the smells of different plants and animals. Every few steps, Jenwa halted, looked to the side where he heard a rustle in the bushes, a cluck or a whisper of anything that might be alive in the bush. He stopped when he smelled something and whispered to me:"Tiger piss" or, "Bison, close by" . Every mound of shit we passed he checked the freshness of it and what direction the footprints of the animal indicate its going and made his evaluations as to what direction to go. I felt like i'm walking with a Bedouin in the desert. The long hours of being alone in nature make their senses very sharp and in tune with what is happening, much like the animals can sense what is happening far from them.


Only half an hour into the walk, we saw our first big animal - a full size male crocodile on the banks of a stream, bathing in the early morning sun. It was exciting. Seeing these reptiles in Hamat Gader when I was 10 years old was nothing compared to seeing this vicious thing in its natural habitat. We were silent, mindfully approaching him not to get him nervous. After a few minutes he sensed us and plunged into the water. He could have been dangerous. Jenwa explained to me before we set off into the jungle the ways we are supposed to act if we are charged by a rhino, attacked be a bear or a tiger. I felt secure though, being with Jenwa and his big stick. I was happy to be deep in nature in such climate and vegetation which I have never seen before and about to see animals such as Rhinos, Elephants, Deer, Bears and Bisons which I have never seen in the wild. This was coming full circle with all my childhood years of taping animal documentaries on video and watching them over and over again. I have now learned to appreciate what hard work and patience these filmmakers and zoologists needed to get the footage and explore these animals in the wild.

As we moved along the bush got thicker and we were already deep in green, moist, swampy jungle with Sal trees and different vines climbing on them like snakes. The double billed birds with black and white feathers greeted us next, along with huge colorful peacocks on the trees. We crossed some high grassland for some time, Jenwa following a Rhino's track and moving the tall grass aside with his stick. I felt like an ant walking across a football field. Then we spotted the large Sambar Deer, a male and a female. The large black male with branching horns moved away while the female saw us and simply stood and stared at us with huge black eyes. She was beautiful, brown fur and large rabbit ears and a look of surprise and purity in her eyes. it was exciting. Later we also saw the spotted deer, running in flocks at the first sound of our feet on the dry leaves on the ground.


Jenwa took me in tiny trails to places he believed we would see the bigger animals. Once in a while he took off his deteriorating shoes (I so much wanted to buy him a good pare of shoes in Kathmandu...) and climbed up a Mango tree, high up to see if there is any Rhino or other animal in the area. After a couple of times he just kept walking barefoot in the jungle, shoes tied to his stick. When there were areas of deep water to cross, he put me on his back and carried me through, even though I insisted I can too take my shoes off and walk in the water. He pointed out big holes in the ground, dug by the mighty vegetarian Sloth Bear, looking for Termites he likes to eat. After walking on a path with a bunch of those holes, there he was, a black Bear with a white face, standing on fours about 10 meters in front of us, staring. we fell silent and all I could hear was the crickets and the tension in the air. The bear started coming closer ever so slowly, until he got scared and started running away. Jenwa started chasing him and signaled me to come after him. This was exhilarating, chasing a bear in the jungle. He finally disappeared in the bush, making loud stepping sounds, making clear this was a big mutha of an animal!

It was getting late, and Jenwa was getting restless, wanting to earn the trophy of having me see a wild Rhino. He told me that if we do not See a Rhino today, he will knock on my door at 6am the next morning and he will take me for another 2 hour walk, free of charge just to see the grey beast. But that was not needed. As the sun was approaching the last quarter of the sky, the bush was colored in yellow and orange and Jenwa set out to the waters where he was sure the rhinos were drinking at this time of day. He came back 5 minutes later with a look of excitement on his face, but silent as always. He took me, partially on his back through the waters to see one of the most exciting sights I have ever seen. It was a full size female Rhino, a huge thing, I may add, having a feast on the tall grass. I was practically in tears from excitement. I felt all my childhood dreams of seeing these animals in the wild come true. The calm and gentleness in her simply standing there, where she has lived for years as did generations of Rhinos before her, in a land which was once all this jungle before man inhabited the Indian sub-continent, and covered all of India with Elephants, Tigers, Lions and hundreds of other animals. Today they are restricted to small areas tagged as national parks, although they still suffer being killed by the occasional poacher, selling their horns and teeth for a lot of money in the black market. Jenwa used to live in a village inside the park, as did many other locals who were uprooted from there by the Nepali government for the sake of the animals. Surprisingly, the villagers accepted this and didn't mind too much moving their rice fields and homes to the other side of the river. In Israel it's done for the sake of peace with our human neighbors, and here it's for peace with our animal ones. That said, every night wild elephants and rhino cross over the river and eat the villagers' crops.


This was a new experience of nature for me and hopefully not the last of its kind. There is an amazing stillness in the jungle that takes time to really plunge into, and feel the simplicity and love that exists from just being, and allowing nature to take its course, animals to do what they were born to do, and humans leaving it alone, and maybe learning a thing or two from these beautiful creatures which, unfortunately, are becoming more scarce and extinct by the day. Today there are around 250 Rhinos in Chitwan national park. 10 years ago there were over 500, and the numbers are not getting higher. Wild elephants are rarely to be seen and most of them are bred in the park's "breeding center", and they are trained for taking tourists for elephant rides in the jungle. It is people like Jenwa that inspire me in believing it is possible to live in harmony with nature, if we just tap in to its rhythm, smell the smells and listen to its subtle vibrations of life and the silence from which it comes.

I'm back in India now, in the city of Gorhakpur, waiting for a train to Varanasi. The smells, the filth and Indian chaos are reflecting the peace and beauty of the nature I've experienced in Nepal this past week. But this is also a kind of national park, where we are the animals and are interacting with eachother in a world which none of us have personally created. What animal am I?

Love,
Daniel