Chitwan National Park, Nepal
Chitwan National park
The oldest National park in Nepal, Chitwan was established in 1973. It is approximately 350square miles of subtropical forests, river valleys, lakes and hills in the Terai lowlands of south-central Nepal. More than 700 species of wildlife live here.
From our long dugout canoe we watched crocodiles and white throated kingfishers, storks, egrets and osprey as we flowed the murky, meandering waters of the Nayarani-Rapti River. No paddles. The flow was swift but shallow—our guides used long bamboo poles to correct our course.
We poled up to the muddy bank and set out on foot. Deeper into the depths of the forest. Rhinos, elephants, sloth bears, bengal tigers, and leopards live here. Our guide now walked with his bamboo pole. Somehow it felt reassuring. He explained that rhinos don’t see well. Zig-zag run if they charge. Climb a tree if you can. When we came upon a mama and her baby, we stayed back, watching from a distance as they emerged from a marshy wetland. The baby had a mop of water weeds on her head- like a camouflaged wig. Our guide whispered us a story about one time when he was charged(!)—mama rhino lowered her head down and barreled down…he shimmied the closest scraggly tree. It was thinner than he was and bent with his weight. When it snapped, the crack was an enough to startle both him and the rhino and they ran in opposite directions. He told this to us lightly, with humor. This was not exactly a reassuring tale. We retreated and my heartbeat felt a little bit too loud. As we walked my eyes scanned the woods for the closest climbable quick escape. With every step I had my tree. Tigers live here in Chitwan. Leopards too. Trees wouldnt help us but we did not expect to see them. Cats are the watchers of the woods. More likely out at night anyway. We continued to make our way through the jungle scrub and grassy meadows as quietly as we could. We were on high alert in this beautiful tangle of green. But we are humans. Crunching leaves under foot. Crackling branches. Swishing the tall grass. Shlopping through the mud. Human quiet is very loud. In the mud we walked alongside rhino tracks and elephant and bengal fox, maybe jackal.
Our guide pronounced his name, Kiran. He was young. Kind and gentle. He is from this place and deeply loves this place. He has never been to the mountains or snow. But he knows this river valley and surrounding hills. He knows the birds and reptiles and mammals and how to expertly make his way through the jungle.
Emerging from the trees we sat on a bench in the shade by the side of a dirt road pulling leaches off our ankles, blood tricking down our skin. Karan crushed them in the dirt with his bamboo stick.
