Interesting, Colourful, Different
Interesting, Colourful, Different – suitably ambiguous words to describe the masala mix of Indian culture. These are Taja and Romana’s swerving answers, so not to bruise a gentle Indian pride, soft like a cream egg, to the question ‘How are you liking India?’ The words ring true; for me the delight and the challenge of a country that continues to defy definitions, and refuses my old logic. ‘Interesting, Colourful, Different’ is a happy jingle that loops in my head as each day spins into the next.
Where was I… Ah Ooty. Ooty in Tamil Nadu state. Ooty with a silly name – not its real name (Udhagamandalam) – that children might toot and hoot in the back seat because it feels funny to say in your mouth. My first foray into these parts passed through Bandipur National park with bouncing spotted deer and common monkeys. My first morning in Ooty, while eating breakfast opposite the lake, I was approached by some guides offering horse riding in the surrounding hills. Now I’m no Johnny tight pants, and Suze, you’ll remember the last time I went riding in Pouto. But happily, this white skinned tourist on a lovely white haired mount (that even obeyed my left-right-go-stop commands) trotted through the fields and forests for 3 hours, bruising my butt for days to come.
I stretched out some different muscles the next day and went on a walking trek with 2 middle aged, young at heart dutchy’s and a guide from the Toda tribe in the Nilgiri hills 17 km out of town. This area, known as the Western Ghats, is a no go zone for tourists (particularly, I’m told, for the littering Indian tourist). We were guests, we were told. The Brits, when they used the area as a summer retreat back in the day, made a law giving land rights to the tribal Toda people, land which cannot be bought or sold, and so remaining a protected area. Eucalyptus have been introduced to stabilize the soil. Local peoples gather the dried, fallen leaves, which are later cooked up and sold for their medicinal properties. Of peculiar interest are the unique ecological Microsystems operating here, where native plants grow in a small area, stop abruptly, then start again in a different area, leaving natural grass pathways.
Rajiv, our Toda guide, knower of things, and passionate campaigner for preservation, led us through the breathtaking valleys, where water buffalo drink in the lakes, to a number of Toda hamlets. The Toda are nature worshippers and vegetarians, whose only currency is the milk products derived from their buffalo. Only when a Toda dies is a buffalo killed to accompany the deceased and provide for him in the next world.
Lollies sweetened the local people and we were able to look at their temples – hut-like buildings made gathered materials, but obviously strong. Temple ‘Priests’ for the short months they are practicing are not allowed any physical contact with anyone and must prepare their own food. They kept their distance. Round stones outside the temple entrance are a test of strength and only one villager can lift the heaviest. After 2 fails and some technical advice I managed the heaviest onto the top of my chest, (not quite onto the shoulder for a complete lift) but a best effort for a white man. (see photo with red, red face). Ganja has a spiritual place here.
Wild bird life sung its songs and the shy black Langur swung and dropped through trees. Colourful women picking tea on the hills smiled toothless grins. We missed the last bus and flagged down a local 4wd after dark back to Ooty town.
Leaving Ooty the next day I lost my sense of humour somewhere down one of the 50 odd hairpin turns. I reached Kochi, halfway down the state of Kerala, after 12hours, but was cheered by the easy smiles of the waiters at the Indian Coffee house. Thats right – coffee mmm
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