A Turtle Walk to Remember

Walking to Life

Isn't it strange how sometimes you forget about certain life changing experiences until something happens and stirs up that Pensieve? (You guessed it, I love Potter books). While I was in Trissur last week, I paid a visit to my husband’s ancestral home. In its current state of abandon, the house and its grounds are overrun with weeds. We made our way through the thickest, my father-in-law and I, searching for fallen coconuts. The grounds are notoriously dangerous, especially after the rains, and our search took us towards the unused pond. There, on its sandy banks my father-in-law spotted something that looked like a dry coconut husk. It was the shell of a tortoise – hard, grey and empty. I wondered how the animal had died. Did someone kill it for its meat or did it die a natural death at a ripe old age. I know they live to be a 100, sometimes even more. 

Way back in 2008, when I was still living in Chennai, I had gone on a Turtle Walk with some of my colleagues and a bunch of conservationists. I remember the date clearly; it was after 10  pm on February 29^th, the leap year day. And it was something that I had wanted to do for a long time, ever since my college buddy Koshy described his walk experience.

Team dinner, group meet and turtles

I was with my team mates Bijoy Bharathan and Jonathan and the three member business reporting gang, Anandan sir, Sangeetha and Chirathan. 

The office cab dropped us off at Neelankarai, where we met Arun, from the Students' Sea Turtle Conservation Network - a voluntary group, working along the beaches of Chennai, trying to conserve and create awareness about Olive Ridley sea turtles. From stray dogs that feed on them, to greedy fisher folks looking for free omelet eggs, to propellers that mow down the swimming turtles; for these yearly visitors looking for a safe place to lay eggs, enemies were aplenty. The group was making great progress with locals in these areas, but even then they had ahead of them a challenging job. 

At about 11 pm, the group was fully formed - scouts or trained turtle spotters, regular walkers and a few first timers like us. Arun briefed us about what the night might have in store. We were to walk along the coast from Neelankarai beach to Besant Nagar (6.5 km stretch) and the journey was to be completed by 5 am the next morning. We were warned against using harsh lights or taking too loudly, as these might scare away the nesting turtle. “I cannot guarantee that you will see any turtles,” Arun said, making my heart sink.

Soon we set off in groups of six, with flashlights and the faint moon guiding us on. I remember thinking that sea was at its loudest and quickly realizing that this is probable because it was past midnight, and the streets were silent. Soon someone spotted something and we quickened our pace. 

Nesting time

A turtle had come to nest. Sand flew from under her hind legs as she laboriously worked the soil away, digging a pit deep and just right enough for her eggs. We gathered around, but the mother seemed oblivious to the attention that she was getting or she probably just wanted to lay those eggs. Her digging complete, she quickly moved on to the task in hand. We saw the eggs drop, one at a time, in rapid succession. Around 70 of them, I counted. 

While a camera managed to capture most of the action on night mode, the turtle, relived at last, started its next task. Once again sand flew all around, as she used her hind legs to cover up the pit and then used the weight of her body to pat down the sand and camouflage her nesting site. The sound of the waves guided her back to the sea, and in less than an hours, she had come, laid her eggs and vanished into the night. 

The team from the conservation network got down to business. They had to collect the eggs and also check the temperature and depth of the pit to rebuilt a similar one in the hatchery. There the eggs would stay, protected till the day they would hatch. On the way to the hatchery, the scouts spotted another turtle nesting site. The same process was repeated and more eggs bagged. 

Further down the beach, we spotted two dead turtles and a dolphin. I remember thinking that this was my first dolphin sighting as well. The feasting stray dogs stood silent and still until we passed the carcass.

Marching to the sea

Dawn was slowly breaking. I could see the sun as a faint orange line in a distance. We were approaching the fag end of our long walk and I was trailing behind. The magic of day break keeping me away from the walkers. What an exciting night it had turned out to be... but it wasn't over just yet, because the scouts ahead were waving once again. 

A set of eggs in the safe house was hatching. The little ones were crawling out of their egg shells and taking baby steps towards the ocean. The tide, the waves and the magnetic field were all guiding them on, and like troupes returning home from battle, they stomped towards the finish line. I picked one up and like a new born baby she wriggled (and was probably crying loud too). I was afraid that I’d drop her or hurt her, so I gently put her down near the sea, and she paddled away, riding high on the morning waves… a blob in a distance that soon vanished. 

For travelers heading to Chennai, looking for adventures that's outside the guide books, the Students' Sea Turtle Conservation Network could be a good start. In one single night I had witnessed birth, survival and death. For planning that adventure I have Jonathan to thank. And the dead turtle from last week, for reminding me again about the Circle of Life, that moves us all. 

‘Indian men, bahut harami’

A slightly shorter version of this piece appeared in Azhimukham, an online journal in Malayalam early this week. For those of you who cannot read the language, here it is.

Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot's Woman in Blue

“You mean you are not Slovenian? I thought you were, because you just don’t look Russian,” he said. The lady in the blue evening gown answered politely. “I am Russian.” He was quick with his next question. “And the man you were talking to earlier... are you friends? Is he from Russia too?” Yes, she said. He is from Russia, but he wasn't someone she knew personally. More questions followed. How long have you been in Delhi? 10 years is a long time, do you speak Hindi then? And where do you stay?

I was at a party and this conversation happened across the table. At first I wasn't paying any attention, but soon I was drawn into this game of cat and mouse. The woman was polite and kept her answers short. She had an exhausted smile. Short answers were good enough for the man who continued to grill her.

Soon he popped the inevitable question. “Can I have your number? I can meet you at Vasant Vihar near your place, and we can have a coffee or something.” A small pause, and he adds, “I’ll text you and if you don’t respond that will be the end of it. I won’t bother you.” She made a polite excuse, “I’m thirsty, I have to get something to drink.” He didn't get the hint and if he did, he wasn't ready to let her off the hook. Not after he had tried so hard, for so long. Let me bring it for you he said, before rushing off.

She looked at me with an exasperated expression. “Do you get this often?” I asked her. She nodded. In her 10 years of living in India, she had learnt that ignoring a man’s advances might hurt his ego. And that's just something you don’t want to do. It is instead best to play the role of a courteous ice maiden. “Indian men,” she said, “bahut harami.” Bahut was emphasized, and I don’t think that was because of her accent.

My evenings in KL

At a tourism seminar held in the city, I learnt that France is the most visited country in the world and closer home there is China, Malaysia and Hong Kong. India, according to the travel gurus, wasn't living up to it's true potential. In all these popular countries, apart from the infrastructure and sightseeing options, safety of a traveler is assured.

I landed in Kuala Lumpur (detailed travel account here) late one night in February and hailed a taxi to the city center. I was of course scared and therefore alert, but when the car stopped at the toll gate in the middle of nowhere, I noticed that the night staff was a woman. Her presence reassured me, and sure enough I had an uneventful ride into the city. I don’t think my country returns the same favour to women travelers. The lady in the blue evening gown is just one of the many 'atithis' or guests, who find living and traveling in India uncomfortable. In many places, including our biggest cities, we do not have enough public convenience spaces. The few that exist are dirty and unhygienic. So during the Commonwealth Games, when two women approached me with this question at Connaught Place, I took them to United Coffee House and explained their situation to a sympathetic manager.

Aurélie De Smedt has a special bond with India. She found the man of her dreams here. She has many friends and has traveled and lived in the remote corners of the country and therefore looks forward to her annual pilgrimage to the subcontinent. “But I can appreciate India only in parts,” she says, “Here; I cannot afford to let my guard down. I cannot relax on a bus or sit on a park bench without attracting unnecessary attention. My mind has to stay alert. I am always asking myself questions like - should I do this? Can I go there? Am I dressed right? It is all very exhausting. Back home I can relax and not worry about being attacked in broad daylight. But I look forward to my Indian vacations, though technically I relax only after I go back home.”

Nancy Mueller's Woman

Hungary’s Heléna Kontos couldn't agree more. “When I first moved to India, I was thrilled every time a man gave me a second look. In Hungary unless you are both sexy and 17, nobody gives a damn. But of course, this feeling didn't last for long. I soon realised that these weren't just admiring glances. Now, I wrap a shawl around me every time I step out and don’t go anywhere without my husband. I am an independent woman, but here in India I have to depend on so many people to get things done… my husband, the maid, the watchman… and that’s not a happy feeling,” she said.

I understand what she means. I grew up in Kerala where 'eve teasing' is as common as taking an oil bath. Most of us therefore, develop a sort of sixth sense about these things, and learn to foresee and avoid them.

Of course, I must also add that I'm not generalizing India as this big, bad, mean place full of clawing men. When I moved to Madras in 2005, I had a tough time adjusting. My sixth sense was useless here. No one gave me a second glance, and there certainly was no eve teasing. For a while I wondered if this was because I was unattractive. As an young girl of 21, I rated myself based on how much the world 'admired' me. I soon figured out that Tamil men respected their women folks. They call her 'amma' or mother, and therefore, even on a crowded bus, she is safe. Of course it is a conservative society, but its conservative nature allows a women to be. In fact, I would even go to the extend of calling it a gender neutral society, and it was here that I felt truly liberated.

Sadly, I can't say the same about the capital. It was a rainy day and Heléna had an open umbrella in her hand. She was shopping at Sarojini Nagar market, when a strong hand grabbed her unshielded breast. Another time, she was on a train with her visiting family, traveling between Kerala and Goa. Sometime in the night her cousin sitting on the lower berth, felt something warm and slimy on the nape of her neck. It was falling from the upper berth. Something white, almost translucent. When she realised what it was, she was too shocked to react.

When these women return to their countries, they might not recollect in great detail the lush green landscape, the big fat Indian weddings, the flavourful meals and the colourful ceremonies that they were a part of. But these experiences - the feeling of helpless outrage, shock and disgust, they will always remember.

Bikas Das's busy streets of Kolkata, India

Thomson Reuters Foundation did a survey in June 2011, which placed India 4th in the list of the world's most dangerous countries for women. The survey predates the much publicized Delhi gang rape case of 2012, or the more recent rape of a photojournalist in Mumbai.

Image for reference only

The rupee is plummeting; and we need foreign travelers to spend their dollars and pounds here. In many ways, our world is slowly waking up to this reality. In a first of its kind initiative, the Government of Tamil Nadu has announced auto rickshaws with GPS systems and a panic button.We now have hotels like The Leela reserving an entire floor for single women travelers. The tourism ministry has also launched an 'I Respect Women' campaign.

Today, more than ever, we need to reinvent ourselves and our image to make the ‘Incredible India’ campaign work for us. We should also learn to recognise women as fellow human beings well worthy of our respect.