Untuk tanggal Oct. 31. nvn

Untuk tanggal Oct. 31. nvn

In the eye of the tiger

Brian McDermott, Guardian News Service/India

You'll need patience, warm clothes and a certain
amount of resilience, but the rewards of a tiger safari in India
are worth the effort.

We clung on as the elephant thrashed around in the undergrowth a
few metres from a young female tiger baring her teeth in what was
either a genuine threat or a world-weary yawn.

"Picture, picture, picture," shouted the mahout as we tried to
respond from the unsteady platform on the elephant's back. A
hopeless task as a blurry mess of bush and stripe appeared in the
digital window.

It was only some time later that our guide gently pointed out
that the urgent cry we heard as an instruction for us to take
photographs was, in fact, a Hindi command for the elephant to
move back to avoid an unhealthy confrontation.

Such are the hazards of locating and then attempting to
photograph tigers in Kanha National Park, a 362-square-mile swath
of tropical forest in Madhya Pradesh, and one of the most
successful arms of Project Tiger which has done so much to save,
and then rejuvenate, India's beleaguered tiger population over
the past 30 years.

Gauging the numbers of tigers in any one area is never an
exact science but at the last estimate there were 128 in the
forest, only a third of which is open to tourists.

We spent a week in Kanha and in that time drove through the
extensive network of tracks in open-top jeeps for over 40 hours,
after making a start in freezing temperatures at 5am each day.

The result in bald statistics was three tiger spottings, two
leopard and a fairly sparse collection of antelope, deer and
monkeys. Clearly this is something you really have to want to do.

But the rewards are far greater than ticking off the number of
sightings like some wildlife Walters. The bird life is plentiful
and always interesting -- you don't need to be a "twitcher" but
it's probably best if you can tell an intermediate egret from a
racquet-tailed drongo, a feat we accomplished by the end of the
week despite starting from a very low base.

The dense forest, with occasional clearings of tawny-colored
heathland and glistening ponds, always appears to hold a secret
around every corner. And this is the essence of the fascination,
the thrill of the hunt without the nasty business of having to
end a life.

But if the hours of searching start to stretch the patience,
Kanha has a further surprise -- something that is frowned upon in
other Project Tiger areas, such as Ranthambhore in Rajasthan
which we visited next.

Early each morning five elephants with their mahouts go out
into the bush looking for tigers. Most days they are successful
and radio the location back to the park headquarters where
passing jeeps call in to be told where the "Tiger Show", as they
call it, will take place. You then drive to the area, clamber
from your jeep on to the elephant's back and make the journey of
a few hundred yards into the forest where the tiger is usually
sleeping and sometimes snarling.

There's no denying that this is an exciting experience,
particularly when the tiger tried to take off and our elephant
gave chase with remarkable determination and dexterity through
the bush. But to the authorities in Ranthambhore this practice is
a) cheating and b) harassment of the animals: you pays your
rupees and you makes your choice. Personally, we hoped our tiger
didn't resent our 10- minute intrusion too much.

Apart from the tiger sideshow, visiting Kanha is a daily
regime that requires a fair bit of patience, particularly because
expectations have been raised unrealistically by television
wildlife programs which have often been years in the making.

You also need a certain amount of resilience as you start your
bumpy days covered in two sweaters, coat, hat and gloves and like
some aging burlesque performer, strip off the layers as the
midday temperature reaches the high-30s.

The morning regime is broken by a breakfast of cheese
sandwiches, pakoras and fruit laid out on the jeep bonnet. Each
vehicle has to take an official guide into the park who, for the
most part, are expert at pointing out interesting but often
unconsidered trifles.

And while the wildlife is quite thin on the ground, there is a
chance to escape into remoter parts of the forest where there is
little of the clutter of vehicles and tourists that is now so
common in many African game parks.

Then it was on to Ranthambhore in the dusty semi-desert of
eastern Rajasthan, where there is an altogether different
approach to protecting tigers. This was once the private tiger
reserve of the Maharajah of Jaipur, but by the 1970s the
population was on the verge on extinction -- down to as few as
seven animals, according to best estimates.

There are now thought to be 44 tigers roaming the majestic
landscape of Ranthambhore but, yet again, they are threatened --
this time by the climate which has seen the monsoon fail for the
past two years and the famous lakes, with their backdrop of the
ruins of royal forts and lodges, coming close to drying up.

Much will depend on this year's monsoon to provide the almost
instant rejuvenation that comes with the rains but contingency
plans are already under way. Groups of men are digging holes to
be filled with water at strategic points in the park in
preparation for the hot season and the hope is that nature will
then do the rest.

Visiting Ranthambhore, made famous by the charismatic Indian
naturalist Valmik Thapar, whose work over the past 30 years has
done much to establish a stable tiger population, is a lottery of
a different kind. If you want to almost guarantee sightings the
best time to visit is April when tigers can often be seen in and
around the lakes at the end of the dry season.

The downside is the heat; we went in late February (our tour
was arranged through Naturek UK) and had two good tiger sightings
in three days but as "Tiger Shows" are considered a bit
downmarket here there are fewer guarantees at this time of the
year than at Kanha.

However, the landscape, towered over by the huge 11th-century
Ranthambhore fort, is a spectacular mix of forest and sandstone
hills and the people are among the most colorful in India.

The park authorities impose a strict access policy with a
daily maximum of 40 jeeps and cantours (large open-top coaches
that will collect you from your hotel) allowed into the 105
square-kilometer core area -- though there is currently a debate
about whether it is possible to expand tourist access without
further endangering the habitat.

Each vehicle is allotted one of seven different routes and
must stick to that area. Route one, which takes you away from the
lake area, tends to be the short straw.

So, the hunt for tigers is an elusive but rewarding experience
-- which is pretty much what you'd say about India in general.