Sunday, July 14, 2013

Being a xi que in Beijing

Xi que - happy magpie
These magpies we saw all over Beijing.  Happy as a magpie. (Pica pica - Eurasian magpie)

They are a sign of good luck and happiness in China.  We saw them in the Temple of Heaven gardens in Beijing, at the Beihai Park as well and in Xi'an too.

Sadly could not get better pictures than this.

There is a love legend surrounding this bird.  culminating in the Qixi festival sometime in August - the seventh day of the seventh lunar month.  On this day, so the legend goes, the magpies form a heavenly bridge to unite two unlucky lovers - Zhinu the weaver girl, and Niulang the cow herd.  So, Zhinu is now symbolised by the star Vega and Niulang by Altair, and the festival includes some star gazing!

It dates back to the Han dynasty, and the Manchus considered the bird sacred, and the Song dynasty has a poem about the lovelorn couple too.

To me it was a happy, cheerful, cheeky birds, reminding me in its manner and appearance to our Oriental magpie robin as well.

The other bird was the Azure-winged magpie.  Very camera shy they were, but beautiful as they glided between trees.

The one thing that surprised me was the abundance of sparrows.  From the Forbidden City to our hotel plaza they were everywhere.  Gazillions of them.

The tree sparrow - a little different from our house sparrows, they had a white collar.

Nesting in the dragon's mouth at Beihai Park! Passer montanus
 

Pretty impressive I thought, given that Mao had ordered their extermination - along with rats, mosquitoes and flies!  The Great Sparrow campaign in 1958, part of the Great Leap Forward, saw the Chinese tearing down sparrow nests, breaking eggs, and constantly shooing them, completely decimating their populations.

All because they ate grain.  

The local sparrow population was restored via imports of sparrows from Russia!  Their cheerful chirping was a welcome interlude in all the parks and green spaces that we visited. 

It got me wondering though.  In India, we wring our hands at the falling numbers of sparrows in our cities.  So the question is how are they thriving in Beijing, nototrious for its air pollution and where the density of human population, skyscrapers, cars, cell phones and every other supposed anti-bird development is extremely visible?







Thursday, June 27, 2013

Gurudwara Hemkunt Sahib, at 15,000 feet, closes for a year


Uttarakhand: Iconic Gurudwara Hemkunt Sahib, at 15,000 feet, closes for a year | NDTV.com


Uttarakhand: Iconic Gurudwara Hemkunt Sahib, at 15,000 feet, closes for a year

Is this flood water or is this the lake?

Patiala: In the recent devastation caused in Uttarakhand, the Hemkunt Sahib Gurudwara may remain closed for the rest of the year as the road link to the 17th century Sikh shrine has been badly damaged.

"We have decided to close Gurudwara Hemkunt Sahib as of now and asked staff of the Shri Hemkunt Sahib Management Trust (SHSMT) to come down at Gurudwara Govind Dham, located lower at a height of 10,500 feet above sea level," SHSMT Vice Chairman Narinder Jit Singh Bindra said, adding that it will be next to impossible to resume the pilgrimage this year.

The sealing of the Gurudwara with electric welding is underway, Mr Bindra said. The entire process to keep all the food stock intact is likely to be completed in couple of days.

"We have instructed all the 70 odd staff members to come down at Gurudwara Govind Dham," he added.

All the staff members of the SHSMT along with 130 other employees from Gurudwara Govind Dham would be airlifted to the plains when the choppers will resume sorties in two days, Mr Bindra said.

"We have formed a committee which would visit and estimate the damage done to the Gurudwara and other buildings. It would also check the safety of the areas and advice on the repairs and maintenance," Mr Bindra added.

He said the Trust will ask the Uttarakhand Government to allocate some more place in Gurudwara Govind Ghat for Langar (Community Kitchen), store and parking as the entire place was washed away by the Alaknanda on June 16.

Moreover, the Yatra work could resume only after the roads and bridges en route to the Gurudwaras including Govind Ghat (6,000 feet) and Govind Dham (10,500 feet) were rebuilt, he added.

Notably, Hemkunt Sahib Gurudwara, situated at a height of over 15,000 feet above the sea level in the Himalayan ranges of northern India, has emerged as an important centre of Sikh pilgrimage which is visited by thousands of devotees from all over the world every summer.

According to Bachitra Natak, the autobiographical account of the tenth Guru, Gobind Singh, it was at Hemkunt 'adorned with seven snow peaks' that he meditated in his previous birth.

Heritage valley in danger | Down To Earth

The Valley will recover if left alone.  The torrential rain has probably put paid to any road plans.

Heritage valley in danger | Down To Earth


Heritage valley in danger

The Valley of Flowers in Uttarakhand, a World Heritage Site, may have been damaged in the recent floods in the state. A look at what makes this biodiversity-rich region susceptible to disturbance
The Valley of Flowers (VOF) National Park in Uttarakhand runs in an east-west direction along the banks of the river Pushpawati. Its rich biodiversity and outstanding natural beauty have earned it the status of a World Heritage Site from UNESCO. However, this region, with its picturesque and species-rich alpine meadows, is under threat.
What is at stake
The VOF has a highly heterogeneous landscape, ranging from low-lying flat and gentle slopes, to steep slopes, unstable glacial moraines, stream banks, forest-meadow edges and snow-bound areas. The mountain system consists of a series of spurs all around the valley. Many rivulets cut across the valley and meet the river Pushpawati, which originates in the Tipra glacier.
This unique geo-morphological heterogeneity has resulted in a rich diversity of flowering plants, which attracts a number of botanists and tourists from all over the world. During my long stay in VOF beginning 1993, I recorded a total of 520 species of higher plants; of these 498 belong to flowering plants, 18 fern species and 4 conifers. The VOF harbours 472 species of herbs, 41 species of shrubs and 8 species of trees. Asteraceae is the most dominant family here, followed by Rosaceae, Ranunculaceae, and Orchidaceae. Of the 520 species, 16 species are endemic to Indian Himalaya and 31 species are of rare and endangered categories.
A view of the valley in 1998. It has over 500 flowering plantsA view of the valley in 1998. It has over 500 flowering plants
In the face of the current disaster in Uttarakhand, it is time to reflect on the fragility of the Himalayan ecosystem, and the importance of conserving its bounty. Once the hill slopes are exposed, continuous rainfall, floods and subsequent landslides can change and destroy the entire ecosystem. In such an event, the existing climax species would be lost. The process of succession of species would start again on exposed land. The first few species to come up in an area in the first stages of succession are weeds. The composition of the new ecosystem thus could be very different from its present day composition, affecting the natural beauty of the place.
Ill-planned development
During my years of stay at Ghangaria, 3 km downhill from the VOF and 3,000 m above mean sea level, I noticed rocks and boulders were frequently detonated for use in the construction of buildings and the widening of the pedestrian route to the Sikh religious site Hemkund Sahib. Such detonation is quite dangerous for the valley’s ecosystem as these activities affect the fragile hill slopes, rendering them vulnerable to landslides.
A plan to construct a motorable road up to Hemkund Sahib or at least up to Ghangaria had been proposed in 2001-02. Although the road was not constructed because of objections raised by conservationists, a parking facility for vehicles was constructed on the banks of the Alaknanda at Govindghat despite concerns about its feasibility that I repeatedly raised. Unfortunately, the recent disaster washed away over 200 vehicles from the parking facility.
Chandra Prakash Kala is a faculty member with the ecosystem and environment management division of Indian Institute of Forest Management in Bhopal

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

The Valley - grim news

The Valley will recover and rebound if left alone, what was more alarming to me was the news regarding the villages, villagers, the development activities and the cutting down of rare trees.

A series of articles by Vibha Varshney, who seems to have visited the Valley roughly around the time we did last year.

http://www.downtoearth.org.in/content/lost-valley-flowers

Floods have washed away the village that cared for the upkeep of the precincts around the World Heritage Site. Will its residents get a chance to rebuild their lives?
The river that passes through the Valley of flowers has reportedly wiped out the meadows and the flowers endemic to the landscape (Photos: Vibha Varshney)
News about the floods in Uttarakhand revive memories of my trip to the Valley of flowers last year. I am glad I could make it then, for this year this picturesque place in Chamoli district of Uttarakhand has been ruined by the extreme rains. Sanjay Rawat, sarpanch of the van panchyat (village forest council) who had guided me around the World Heritage Site last year, called to tell me about the devastation in the area. He said the river that passes through the heritage site had washed away the beautiful meadows. The flowers, too, have been wiped out. His information was hearsay as nobody can go near the area. Rawat and other people stranded in the valley were airlifted to safety recently.
But the Valley of flowers was not the reason Rawat called. The rains had washed away Pulna and Bhyundar—two small village settlements that had been in existence for about a century. Pulna is the winter residence of people of Bhyundar valley panchayat, and during summers, they move higher up to Bhyundar. These settlements had survived for at least a 100 years. The elders in the village say that the last time rains of this magnitude had hit the area sometime in the 1940's, the destruction had been minor. This time round, there is no way that the place can be rebuilt. Rawat said that now the community wants to be relocated to Joshimath.
The route to Hemkund Sahib before the floods
But the authorities have never been sympathatic to the needs of the people. During my visit, I had gone to Pulna to meet the former gram pradhan, Jagdish Chauhan. He had a story to tell – the forest officials in the area had cut down two trees of endangered Taxus wallichiana. The trees were just an excuse. The community was waging a war against the forest department to gain rights over the land where their hotels were built in Ghangaria. These hotels were the only livelihood option available to them since grazing animals had been stopped in the areas after it was declared a World Heritage Site (see Rift Valley).
Instead of supporting the van panchayat, the forest department seemed more amenable to ousting them and leasing out the land to outsiders. The community had got a taste of such an experiment on an earlier occasion. In 1960, the department had leased out land to the Hemkund Sahib gurudwara for a rest house. After 50 years, though 53 structures existed in the area, only 10 were given on lease by the authority. Last year, there were talks of taking paved roads right up to Ghangaria so that vehicles could ferry the tourists. This meant that more hotels would be needed. The community wanted some assurance that they would have a stake in the profits. They did not get this despite the fact that the van panchayats in the area are supposed to have control over development. People of Ghangaria have been taking good care of the area. Despite the huge number of tourists, a community organisation has managed to keep the plastic menace in control to an extent).
The valley has many rare plants. The Himalayan poppy
But the bigger question at the moment is whether fragile ecosystems like these should be put through haphazard development. Both the Valley of flowers and Hemkund Sahib are accessible only between June and September, and even during this time, landslides are common. My bus ride from Dehradun to Joshimath took me through areas where huge boulders jutted out of the mountainside and loomed over the road. These were accidents just waiting to happen – a slight tremor, a little rain could easily dislodge these and my co-passengers seemed to hold their breath all though the 10 hour journey. The only conversation that happened was when we crossed a place where a landslide had crushed a car and killed everyone in it a few days back. The driver concentrated on the road while the conductor focused on the mountainside, hoping to catch a signal in case boulders showed the slightest sign of movement. As he stared at the mountainside, the conductor told me the destruction to the landscape was because of the dams being built on the Alaknanda river.
As the area also houses Hemkund sahib gurudwara, religious tourism is likely to restart as soon as the paths are made navigable. This would be the time to set up a better system in place to protect the area. Climate change will bring in more such events. In the absence of a plan, letting people go there is akin to homicide. And for people like me who love plants, losing the valley would mean losing precious biodiversity.





The rift valley | Down To Earth

With no income options, Ghangharia residents want forestland for hotels

Ghangharia is a base station for people heading to Hemkund Sahib and Valley of Flowers (Photographs: Vibha Varshney)

Every year between June and September, Ghangharia becomes a busy place. Pilgrims going to the nearby Hemkund Sahib gurudwara and those visiting Valley of Flowers, a World Heritage Site, have to spend at least one night in this small settlement in Uttarakhand’s Chamoli district. Residents have cashed in on the influx of tourists by opening hotels, restaurants and small shops. But they live in constant fear of losing their means of living.

Map not to scaleGhangharia lies in a reserve forest and is part of the van panchayat of Bhyundar (see map). The van panchayat, which is responsible for managing forests along with the forest department, has been active in Ghangharia since 1965. Over the years, the community has been fighting with the forest department over land rights. The residents want some part of the forest to be earmarked exclusively for livelihood through tourism—to which the authorities have paid scant attention. The authorities maintain that the existing hotels, restaurants and shops are illegal since they have been built on forestland.

Events in December 2011 underlined the increasing tension between the two. Forest officials cut down two trees of endangered Himalayan yew to build an additional hut for an information centre. Residents, who need to obtain a series of permissions from the forest department to cut even one tree, filed a complaint with the district magistrate, the divisional forest officer and the state and the Union Ministry of Environment and Forest (MoEF), saying the tree should be protected because it is home to an endangered bird (see ‘Proof at its best’). In a letter dated June 27, 2012, MoEF asked the sarpanch of the van panchayat to verify the residents’ claims. The sarpanch, Sanjay Rawat, through whom the complaint was filed, is yet to respond.

When Down To Earth enquired about the tree felling, the forest department said it was necessary because the trees were growing in the middle of the construction area. “We can cut down trees for work related to protection and development of forests,” says S R Prajapati, the divisional forest officer. Madal Lal Sah, the local forest guard, adds the trees were small and unlikely to survive. “We will compensate by planting 10 similar trees in the region,” says Prajapati.

Proof at its best
 

Felling of trees led to construction of a hut for an information centre on the Valley of Flowers (Courtesy: Jagdeesh Chouhan)

 

Residents of Ghangharia claim the forest department is not protecting the forests. The officials cut down two Himalayan yews in December 2011 (Taxus wallichiana). Following this the residents filed a complaint with the authorities. As evidence, they sent a photograph of the trees before they were cut down. The photograph was taken by former gram pradhan Jagdish Chauhan.

Himalayan yew or thuner, as it is locally called, is the winter home of the state bird "monal". The bird (Lophophorus impejanus) is protected under schedule 1 of the Indian Wildlife (Protection) Act of 1972.

IUCN classifies the Himalayan yew as endangered. It is also included in the Red Data Book of Indian Plants and is part of the Convention on International Trade of endangered species of wild Fauna and Flora, restricting its trade. Regeneration of the tree is difficult as the seeds take two years to germinate and the tree grows slowly. Traditional uses of the Himalayan yew do not put the tree at risk. People used to drink an infusion of the bark to keep the body warm in the coldest of winters. With the easy availability of tea in the market, only its fruits are now used.

In the 1990s, 90 per cent of Himalayan yew trees were cut to derive an anticancer drug from the bark and leaves.

Both Prajapati and Sah believe residents filed a complaint on such a trivial matter because a powerful faction of the Ghangharia community is in a legal tangle with the department. In November last year, the department had filed cases against five hotel owners in the district court for illegally extending their hotels. The owners, including gram pradhan Devendra Singh, claim the officials have arbitrarily marked the boundary for forestland. Still, the hotels are within limits, they add. The next hearing of the case is on August 10.

Former sarpanch of the van panchayat Vijendra Singh Chauhan explains the boundary issue. Till the 1970s around 8,000 hectares (ha) was under the control of the van panchayat (land under van panchayats is revenue land). “But in the 1980s, the department took over 650 ha, saying the area was too big for us to control,” says Chauhan. At the time of land transfer, the department did not mark any boundaries. “In 2007, the officials haphazardly installed pillars to mark the limit. They did not even consult the van panchayat as required under law,” he adds. What’s more, the van panchayat has not been given a map that shows land under its jurisdiction. In April 2012, Rawat filed an RTI demanding the map. Reply is awaited.

Better to know boundaries

Ghangharia residents, who have been traditional grazers, say they have no other income source besides running hotels and restaurants. Under the Forest Rights Act (FRA), forest dwellers can use their land for agriculture, not tourism. In Uttarakhand, where FRA has not been implemented, agriculture is difficult because of rocky terrain and extreme weather conditions. Resident Raghubir Chauhan says his hotel is the only source of income for him. “If they take away this, I will have to leave my village and learn a new trade,” says Chauhan, who earns between Rs 2-Rs 8 lakh annually. Devendra Singh demands that 8 ha of forestland should be diverted for hotels.

In 2011, more than 700,000 tourists flocked Ghangharia.

In 1960, the first construction on forestland started when the department leased out land to the Hemkund Sahib gurudwara. At present, there are 53 structures within the forestland, of which only 10 have leases. Singh alleges the gurudwara has been given preferential treatment over the local community.

Others have backed the demand of the residents. In 2005, Tata Consultancy Services Ltd, which was commissioned by the state tourism department to prepare a master plan for ecotourism in the Valley of Flowers-Hemkund belt, had recommended that land should be diverted to ensure residents’ land rights.

Land conversion would imply diverting forestland under the Forest (Conservation) Act of 1980. The Act considers only those areas for conversion that the state had identified before the Act came into existence. In 2004, the revenue department along with the forest department created a database of the land on which construction has taken place in Ghangharia. They found that buildings had been constructed on 1.99 ha before 1980 and petitioned the nodal officer in Dehradun to convert it into revenue land for hotels. The authorities are yet to take a decision on the petition. In the absence of regularisation, buildings are growing stealthily in Ghangharia. By 2002, nearly 3 ha was occupied by hotels, shows a study by Tata Consultancy Services Ltd.

Officials say despite no response to the petition, all the 53 structures within the forestland have been allowed to stay. “As long as the resident community maintains a status quo, there is no problem,” says Prajapati.

Forest officials have installed pillars (circled) to mark boundary of forestland

Rawat says there are many instances where the department has interfered in the smooth running of the settlement. The forest officials created hurdles in the van panchayat’s recent efforts to lop a few trees to make way for electricity transmission wires, says Rawat. The officials also do not allow any construction material because the department does not want any additional construction in the area. “While the department allowed a helipad in the area, it objected when the panchayat leased out land for setting up tourist tents,” adds Rawat.

A far-fetched dream

It seems the residents’ demand of revenue land for forests would remain unheeded. A July 2012 report of the Central environment and forests ministry on the action taken on all proposals from Uttarakhand for land conversion between 1980 and 2012 does not mention anything on hotels in Ghangharia. Among the approved proposals, 0.99 ha is for integrated development of Hemkund Sahib and Govindghat, 0.04 ha for a reporting police post and 1.3 ha for a path from Ghangaria to Hemkund.

Forest right activists say instead of giving the land to outsiders for hotels, it is better to let the residents use it. “These people are the original residents of the area and should get land rights,” says Roma of National Forum of Forest People and Forest Workers.

If the situation is not defused quickly, the future of community forestry would be at risk, says Hem Gairola, founder of the Himalayan Community Forestry Centre in Chamoli. “Van panchayats have worked well,” he adds.

However, Gairola blames the changes in the van panchayat rules for the deterioration of working relationship between the forest department and the community. The first set of rules came out in 1931, since then it has been revised four times. “With each set of rules, the powers of the van panchayat have been diluted,” he says. For instance, before the rules were amended in 2005, the van panchayat could decide how it wanted the land to be used. “If the community wanted a part of the land for hotel construction, the van panchayat would have allowed it if necessary,” says Gairola. The government should work with the community and set down rules as per requirements, otherwise conflict would start in sensitive areas, he suggests.

Guman Singh, coordinator of Himalaya Niti Abhiyan in Himachal Pradesh, suggests political involvement as a solution. Under existing laws, it would be easy to label the ongoing commercial activity in Ghangharia as encroachment. “The residents cannot now go back to traditional grazing activity and should be given land for alternative livelihood,” says Singh. The community needs to petition the government and appeal for its livelihood. “The fight over settlement of land rights is a national phenomenon. The resolution will come from this fight,” he says.

http://www.downtoearth.org.in/content/redemption-litter?quicktabs_1=0

Redemption from litter

Uttarakhand non-profits have taken responsibility for clearing tourists’ plastic waste

Sacks full of plastic waste thrown by tourists are collected along the path to Hemkund Sahib and the Valley of Flowers

Neat piles of white sacks greet people as they enter Govindghat hamlet in Uttarakhand’s Chamoli district. The sacks are full of plastic bottles, food wrappers and remains of raincoats made of thin polythene, thrown by pilgrims and tourists along the trek to Hemkund Sahib gurudwara and the Valley of Flowers National Park. The 13-km pathway, that bifurcates at a small settlement called Ghangaria and leads to the two centres, is crowded during peak tourist season—June to September. Mules that tourists ride on also leave a trail of dung. Yet, the area is reasonably clean. All the plastic waste thrown by pilgrims and tourists along the path are picked up, packed in sacks and kept at places assigned for the purpose along the path.

This organised system of waste collection started in 2002. Before that, the pathway was a mess, says Jyotsna Sitling, former director of Nanda Devi Biosphere Reserve, who was then working to get the Valley of Flowers recognised as a World Heritage Site. At least 400 illegal shops had sprung along the pathway. But their owners did not take the responsibility of clearing the waste they generated. There are stories about a Canadian woman who tried to clean the area single-handedly by picking up plastic bottles and packets. “But nothing helped because the amount of waste was overwhelming and chances of the Valley of Flowers getting World Heritage Site status were bleak,” says Sitling.

It was around this time that the forest department took up the challenge. It roped in a non-profit at Bhyundar, the only village on the route, to collect plastic strewn on the pathway. In about three months, the non-profit Eco Development Committee (EDC) Bhyundar, had 4,000 sacks full of plastic waste, all brought to Govindghat on mules. The next year, it had 14,000 sacks. But all this waste stayed in Govindghat because the forest department had not yet formed a system to dispose it. In fact, the collection was as high as a three-storey building, says Sitling. In 2003, the forest department sent the waste to Dehradun, where it was segregated and then sent to Delhi for recycling. But transporting so much of waste was troublesome and expensive. The forest department collaborated with the municipal authorities in Srinagar town in 2004 to use its compactor machine that can compress plastic and make transportation easy. But after four years, the machine broke down and the forest department had to again take up the cumbersome task of transporting big, uncompressed sacks to Dehradun.

In 2010, the authorities at Joshimath tehsil allowed the use of their compactor machine. But it was overworked and the authorities refused to compress waste the next year.

In 2011, a group of trekkers saw the sacks piled at Govindghat and informed their friend Anis Ahmad, a waste dealer in Dehradun, about them. Ahmad worked out a deal with EDC. Till now, EDC was paying the transportation cost. But Ahmad gave EDC Rs 3,000 for each truck of waste and transported it for free. He collected 111 tonnes of waste and sold it to a recycler in Delhi, for profit.

This year, too, he awaits a similar arrangement with EDC. By June-end, EDC had 9,980 sacks of waste. With the tourism department’s decision to install a compactor machine at Govindghat, transportation is sure to become easy.

Economics of cleanliness

To lend a helping hand to EDC Bhyundar, the forest department made efforts to create a similar non-profit in Govindghat. EDC Govindghat was created in 2004. Till now, the two units have disposed of 587 tonnes of waste.

Most of the fund is generated by charging registration fee from mule owners, and dandis and kandis. Dandis take people up to the hills in palanquins and kandis carry tourists’ load in baskets. With increase in tourism, the number of mules, dandis and kandis also increased, improving EDCs’ collection. In 2003, EDC Bhyundar had collected Rs 10.4 lakh. This rose to Rs 29.6 lakh in 2011. EDC Govindghat, which had collected Rs 6.5 lakh in its first year, raised Rs 17.2 lakh in 2011. The non-profits also tax shop and restaurant owners on the path. The amount is used to hire sweepers and manage waste disposal.

(Left) Around 70 sweepers clear litter at regular intervals; waste collected along the path that leads to Hemkund Sahib

The system works well for tourists and pilgrims also. Mule owners, dandis and kandis are more accountable because all of them are registered. Their rates are also fixed by the district authorities and reviewed every year.

The initiative has proved a big source of employment. EDC Bhyundar hires youngsters to provide information to visitors to the Valley of Flowers National Park. They are also trained to work as guides, accountants, cashiers and computer operators at both the EDCs.

Besides, many migrant labourers have found jobs here. EDC Bhyundar has 49 sweepers while the Govindghat EDC has 20. Most of them come from Uttar Pradesh where the monsoon is a lean work season. Dileep Kumar, for instance, has been given the task of cleaning the path outside the Valley of Flowers. Work at the brick kiln at Moradabad, his hometown, stops during monsoons. During his four months’ stay in Ghangaria, Dileep will earn Rs 2,500 per month, get food, a place to stay and medical care, all for free. The facilities are available to mule owners and head loaders as well.

The forest department’s efforts yielded results and in 2005, the Valley of Flowers was declared a World Heritage Site. EDC, however, admits that mule dung has not been taken care of because there is no space to collect it and turn it into manure.

Ideas big and small

What happens if the EDCs are unable to generate enough funds to hire sweepers? Satish Chandra Bhatt, chairperson of EDC Govindghat, suggests government could step in to supplement funds.

However, instead of collecting huge amounts of waste at a high cost, would it not be better to reduce its generation? wonders R N Okhal, a Mumbai resident on a pilgrimage trip across the country after retirement. “When I went to Gomukh, I deposited Rs 20 for each plastic bag that I carried. While returning, I got the money back when I showed the same number of plastic bags,” he says.

Another effective way to reduce litter would be to give tourists discount on water bottles when they return empty bottles, suggests Ranu Srivastava, a tourist who is program manager at Oracle India Private Ltd in Gurgaon. Ravinder Singh of Punjab thinks a difference can be made if people are fined for littering. There should be restriction on sale of cheap raincoats, says Vipin Kumar, Dehradun-based expert on plastic waste disposal.

But authorities believe implementing these suggestions could be a problem. “The number of people who come to Govindghat is huge. They come from far away places and bring their own plastic. It is not possible to regulate such a huge amount of waste,” says S A Murugesan, district magistrate of Chamoli. In fact, EDC Govindghat had tried to reduce waste by providing good quality raincoats on rent. But tourists were not ready to pay. In the masterplan for Uttarakhand, Kumar has suggested technologies that can be used to turn plastic into products that do not re-enter the waste cycle. Bread wrappers, for instance, can be turned into chairs, he says. He has also suggested charging tax from manufacturers who increase the shelf-life of their products by packing food products in plastic bags.

The forest department is making efforts to increase awareness about keeping the area clean, like painting messages on mountains and placing dustbins. Tourists need to do their bit, says S R Prajapati, divisional forest officer of Nandadevi Biosphere Reserve. “Just throw waste inside the bins,” he says.

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Du Fu and the Golden Oriole

I am in a Chinese state of mind these days, as we plan to go off for a week to Beijing and Xi'an.

And Mr Ramanan sent me this absolutely spectacular picture of the Godlen Oriole he spied at Vedanthangal.  As I admired those eyes that looked like they were kohl-lined, I was immediately struck by the thought that someone must have been inpired to rhyme by this lovely bird.

Golden oriole - Photo by Mr Ramanan
And there it was.  Du Fu, the Chinese poet from the Tang dynasty period composed this four-line poem.

A pair of golden orioles sings in green willows
a column of snowy egrets flies off in blue sky
my window contains peaks with a thousand years of ice
my gate harbors boats from ten thousand miles downriver

( Red Pine. Poems of the Masters, p. 100. Copper Canyon Press 2003.)

Another translation:

Two golden orioles sing in the green willows,
A row of white egrets against the blue sky.
The window frames the western hills' snow of a thousand autumns,
At the door is moored, from eastern Wu, a boat of ten thousand li.

http://www.chinese-poems.com/d29.html

I like the second translation better.

The capital of the Tang dynasty in the first century AD was Xi'an.  But Du Fu himself seems to have moved to Chendu, where he is reported to have composed this quartrain sometime around 759 AD. 

The Golden Oriole seen in China some 1,200 years ago, and photographed so beautifully in Madras by Mr Ramanan.  The poem survives and so does the bird!

Gives me goosebumps.

Good news or what?!

How come I did not read this piece of news?

India's rice revolution | Global development | The Observer

India's rice revolution
Sumant Kumar
Sumant Kumar was overjoyed when he harvested his rice last year. There had been good rains in his village of Darveshpura in north-east India and he knew he could improve on the four or five tonnes per hectare that he usually managed. But every stalk he cut on his paddy field near the bank of the Sakri river seemed to weigh heavier than usual, every grain of rice was bigger and when his crop was weighed on the old village scales, even Kumar was shocked.
This was not six or even 10 or 20 tonnes. Kumar, a shy young farmer in Nalanda district of India's poorest state Bihar, had – using only farmyard manure and without any herbicides – grown an astonishing 22.4 tonnes of rice on one hectare of land. This was a world record and with rice the staple food of more than half the world's population of seven billion, big news.
Link to video: Rice farming in India: 'Now I produce enough food for my family'
It beat not just the 19.4 tonnes achieved by the "father of rice", the Chinese agricultural scientist Yuan Longping, but the World Bank-funded scientists at the International Rice Research Institute in the Philippines, and anything achieved by the biggest European and American seed and GM companies. And it was not just Sumant Kumar. Krishna, Nitish, Sanjay and Bijay, his friends and rivals in Darveshpura, all recorded over 17 tonnes, and many others in the villages around claimed to have more than doubled their usual yields.
The villagers, at the mercy of erratic weather and used to going without food in bad years, celebrated. But the Bihar state agricultural universities didn't believe them at first, while India's leading rice scientists muttered about freak results. The Nalanda farmers were accused of cheating. Only when the state's head of agriculture, a rice farmer himself, came to the village with his own men and personally verified Sumant's crop, was the record confirmed.
A tool used to harvest riceA tool used to harvest rice. Photograph: Chiara Goia
The rhythm of Nalanda village life was shattered. Here bullocks still pull ploughs as they have always done, their dung is still dried on the walls of houses and used to cook food. Electricity has still not reached most people. Sumant became a local hero, mentioned in the Indian parliament and asked to attend conferences. The state's chief minister came to Darveshpura to congratulate him, and the village was rewarded with electric power, a bank and a new concrete bridge.
That might have been the end of the story had Sumant's friend Nitish not smashed the world record for growing potatoes six months later. Shortly after Ravindra Kumar, a small farmer from a nearby Bihari village, broke the Indian record for growing wheat. Darveshpura became known as India's "miracle village", Nalanda became famous and teams of scientists, development groups, farmers, civil servants and politicians all descended to discover its secret.
When I meet the young farmers, all in their early 30s, they still seem slightly dazed by their fame. They've become unlikely heroes in a state where nearly half the families live below the Indian poverty line and 93% of the 100 million population depend on growing rice and potatoes. Nitish Kumar speaks quietly of his success and says he is determined to improve on the record. "In previous years, farming has not been very profitable," he says. "Now I realise that it can be. My whole life has changed. I can send my children to school and spend more on health. My income has increased a lot."
What happened in Darveshpura has divided scientists and is exciting governments and development experts. Tests on the soil show it is particularly rich in silicon but the reason for the "super yields" is entirely down to a method of growing crops called System of Rice (or root) Intensification (SRI). It has dramatically increased yields with wheat, potatoes, sugar cane, yams, tomatoes, garlic, aubergine and many other crops and is being hailed as one of the most significant developments of the past 50 years for the world's 500 million small-scale farmers and the two billion people who depend on them.
People work on a rice field in BiharPeople work on a rice field in Bihar. Photograph: Chiara Goia
Instead of planting three-week-old rice seedlings in clumps of three or four in waterlogged fields, as rice farmers around the world traditionally do, the Darveshpura farmers carefully nurture only half as many seeds, and then transplant the young plants into fields, one by one, when much younger. Additionally, they space them at 25cm intervals in a grid pattern, keep the soil much drier and carefully weed around the plants to allow air to their roots. The premise that "less is more" was taught by Rajiv Kumar, a young Bihar state government extension worker who had been trained in turn by Anil Verma of a small Indian NGO called Pran (Preservation and
Proliferation of Rural Resources and Nature), which has introduced the SRI method to hundreds of villages in the past three years.
While the "green revolution" that averted Indian famine in the 1970s relied on improved crop varieties, expensive pesticides and chemical fertilisers, SRI appears to offer a long-term, sustainable future for no extra cost. With more than one in seven of the global population going hungry and demand for rice expected to outstrip supply within 20 years, it appears to offer real hope. Even a 30% increase in the yields of the world's small farmers would go a long way to alleviating poverty.
"Farmers use less seeds, less water and less chemicals but they get more without having to invest more. This is revolutionary," said Dr Surendra Chaurassa from Bihar's agriculture ministry. "I did not believe it to start with, but now I think it can potentially change the way everyone farms. I would want every state to promote it. If we get 30-40% increase in yields, that is more than enough to recommend it."
The results in Bihar have exceeded Chaurassa's hopes. Sudama Mahto, an agriculture officer in Nalanda, says a small investment in training a few hundred people to teach SRI methods has resulted in a 45% increase in the region's yields. Veerapandi Arumugam, the former agriculture minister of Tamil Nadu state, hailed the system as "revolutionising" farming.
SRI's origins go back to the 1980s in Madagascar where Henri de Laulanie, a French Jesuit priest and agronomist, observed how villagers grew rice in the uplands. He developed the method but it was an American, professor Norman Uphoff, director of the International Institute for Food, Agriculture and Development at Cornell University, who was largely responsible for spreading the word about De Laulanie's work.
Given $15m by an anonymous billionaire to research sustainable development, Uphoff went to Madagascar in 1983 and saw the success of SRI for himself: farmers whose previous yields averaged two tonnes per hectare were harvesting eight tonnes. In 1997 he started to actively promote SRI in Asia, where more than 600 million people are malnourished.
"It is a set of ideas, the absolute opposite to the first green revolution [of the 60s] which said that you had to change the genes and the soil nutrients to improve yields. That came at a tremendous ecological cost," says Uphoff. "Agriculture in the 21st century must be practised differently. Land and water resources are becoming scarcer, of poorer quality, or less reliable. Climatic conditions are in many places more adverse. SRI offers millions of disadvantaged households far better opportunities. Nobody is benefiting from this except the farmers; there are no patents, royalties or licensing fees."
Rice seedsRice seeds. Photograph: Chiara Goia
For 40 years now, says Uphoff, science has been obsessed with improving seeds and using artificial fertilisers: "It's been genes, genes, genes. There has never been talk of managing crops. Corporations say 'we will breed you a better plant' and breeders work hard to get 5-10% increase in yields. We have tried to make agriculture an industrial enterprise and have forgotten its biological roots."
Not everyone agrees. Some scientists complain there is not enough peer-reviewed evidence around SRI and that it is impossible to get such returns. "SRI is a set of management practices and nothing else, many of which have been known for a long time and are best recommended practice," says Achim Dobermann, deputy director for research at the International Rice Research Institute. "Scientifically speaking I don't believe there is any miracle. When people independently have evaluated SRI principles then the result has usually been quite different from what has been reported on farm evaluations conducted by NGOs and others who are promoting it. Most scientists have had difficulty replicating the observations."
Dominic Glover, a British researcher working with Wageningen University in the Netherlands, has spent years analysing the introduction of GM crops in developing countries. He is now following how SRI is being adopted in India and believes there has been a "turf war".
"There are experts in their fields defending their knowledge," he says. "But in many areas, growers have tried SRI methods and abandoned them. People are unwilling to investigate this. SRI is good for small farmers who rely on their own families for labour, but not necessarily for larger operations. Rather than any magical theory, it is good husbandry, skill and attention which results in the super yields. Clearly in certain circumstances, it is an efficient resource for farmers. But it is labour intensive and nobody has come up with the technology to transplant single seedlings yet."
But some larger farmers in Bihar say it is not labour intensive and can actually reduce time spent in fields. "When a farmer does SRI the first time, yes it is more labour intensive," says Santosh Kumar, who grows 15 hectares of rice and vegetables in Nalanda. "Then it gets easier and new innovations are taking place now."
In its early days, SRI was dismissed or vilified by donors and scientists but in the past few years it has gained credibility. Uphoff estimates there are now 4-5 million farmers using SRI worldwide, with governments in China, India, Indonesia, Cambodia, Sri Lanka and Vietnam promoting it.
Sumant, Nitish and as many as 100,000 other SRI farmers in Bihar are now preparing their next rice crop. It's back-breaking work transplanting the young rice shoots from the nursery beds to the paddy fields but buoyed by recognition and results, their confidence and optimism in the future is sky high.
Last month Nobel prize-winning economist Joseph Stiglitz visited Nalanda district and recognised the potential of this kind of organic farming, telling the villagers they were "better than scientists". "It was amazing to see their success in organic farming," said Stiglitz, who called for more research. "Agriculture scientists from across the world should visit and learn and be inspired by them."
A man winnows rice in Satgharwa villageA man winnows rice in Satgharwa village. Photograph: Chiara Goia
Bihar, from being India's poorest state, is now at the centre of what is being called a "new green grassroots revolution" with farming villages, research groups and NGOs all beginning to experiment with different crops using SRI. The state will invest $50m in SRI next year but western governments and foundations are holding back, preferring to invest in hi-tech research. The agronomist Anil Verma does not understand why: "The farmers know SRI works, but help is needed to train them. We know it works differently in different soils but the principles are solid," he says. "The biggest problem we have is that people want to do it but we do not have enough trainers.
"If any scientist or a company came up with a technology that almost guaranteed a 50% increase in yields at no extra cost they would get a Nobel prize. But when young Biharian farmers do that they get nothing. I only want to see the poor farmers have enough to eat."

Friday, May 24, 2013

Avoiding "nature deficit disease"! My Cassia love affair continues

I read this article recently, and coincidentally received some beautiful pictures from Rags, and the the essay by Gowri and the pictures by Rags seem to be meant for each other.

Back when city schools had their trees

Friday, May 24, 2013, 9:20 IST | Agency: DNA  Gowri Ramnarayan  

“I get up listening to song birds, not the crow,” my friend said, vacationing in the hills, far from the Chennai furnace. It was Dawn Chorus Day, the first Sunday in May, when people rise early to hear the birds.  In the 1960s, my Chennai school had never heard of “Birdsong Days”. But its green campus rang with an all-day, round-the year avian orchestra.

Back then, even city schools had their trees — mango, tamarind, neem, peepal, each a colony of nests. Oh the joy of stealing mangoes! Hitting tamarind clusters with your catapult! Or, swinging on the aerial roots of the banyan, to spy on that hole where the sun-blind night owl snoozed with owlets, one, two… three?   

In summer you walked on streets canopied with interlacing branches. Rain trees laid carpets of wispy pink, the rusty shield-bearer and flame of the forest rolled out gold and scarlet paths. Maramalli, unromantically called “Cork Tree”, sprayed its creamy clusters and heady fragrance. The laburnum, amaltas, made pools of lemon gold.

A kingfisher waits patiently
Each tree was an aviary to hoopoe, wagtail, myna, dove, bee eater, babbler, kingfisher, Indian roller, woodpecker, tailor bird, magpie-robin, drongo, sunbird, minivet, shrike, hawk, rosy pastor, the fluttery red-vented bulbul, the elusive coppersmith which we knew more by its call. What a thrill when huge tree pies made a noisy halt on a massive branch! Or a crane stopped to rest on its way to the river! Watching coral-beaked parakeets winging above the banyan tree, as if green leaves and red figs were scattered in the blue above?

Can you spot the sunbird?
The spectacular paradise fly catcher, angel-white, weaving through the sun-dappled trees, trailing an incredibly long fairy tail… Was it the romantic prince of fairy tales, waiting for a princess to break the spell, and restore his human form?

And my favourite coppersmiths.  Two male barbets competing for a mate?
The humble sparrow, now a stranger to the city, was a household member then. Every morning, grandma greeted the chittukuruvi with a song, “Sparrow, little sparrow, give me all the news!” The sparrow’s nest was tucked into the niche behind the huge Ravi Varma portrait of Goddess Lakshmi. You never used the electric fan in that room. It could kill fledglings in tentative flight.

Indian summer is imaged in the koel’s call, celebrated in centuries of myth and verse.

Suddenly, I wonder. If she had heard the bird’s voice crackling through the urban din, could Begum Akhtar have poured out her passion in “Koyaliya mat kare pukar, karejwa laage katar” (Don’t call, a dagger strikes my heart),?

Mishearing karejwa (heart) as kajaria (kohl), I had long believed that she addressed the Golden Oriole… Maankuyil in my mother tongue Tamil, the name a variant of the kuyil or koel. How striking those jet black “kajal” stripes lining its ruby red eyes, against dazzling yellow! In flight it spins gold, in song it spills incandescence. Like love, the oriole’s aria pierces the heart with bliss and pain. 

Where are those endless V formations of water birds in twilight flight? The pools are gone, the river dry. A condominium walls my balcony, replacing the mango tree which housed a hundred birds singing at dawn, chattering at dusk. The same balcony where, 20 years ago, my son had been wonderstruck by three miniscule bits of fluff, (sunbird chicks?) emerging from a hidden nest behind the flower pots, hopping on to his foot with carefree bonhomie!

Today, you can hear the oriole on a Youtube clip maybe, where you can also learn about a fast spreading modern ailment: nature deficit disease. Then you know what the eerie ballad means: “The sedge has wither’d from the lake, and no birds sing.”

The author is a playwright, theatre director, musician, and journalist writing on the performing arts, cinema and literature.  

So, plant that tree and look out of your window, for this is what you may see.

All these Cassia pictures by Rags as he looked out of his window and played "I spy" with his camera!

I miss my neighbour's Millingtonia which provided a convenient perch for the birds of our street, and delighted me consequently.

Thursday, May 23, 2013

And a squirrel on the Cassia


The summer theme of Cassias in bloom continues, with this lovely picture by Rags, taken from his balcony window in Thiruvanmyur.  Urban wildlife all around us, if we only stop and stare.

See his other lovely pictures at Zenfolio..

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

More Cassia at Pondy

Isnt it grand?  Cassia fistula at Pondy.  They were blooming on every street, and a delight, compensating for the searing heat...or maybe a reflection of it?
Cassia grandis I think.  Bangalore is full of them.
And another fistula, this one close to our hotel
The Punnais were in bloom too.  This is the tree we have planted on our road, and I hope it will soon be tall and proud like this one.
The sun was doing a good job at creating mountains of salt @ Marakkanam

Sunday, May 5, 2013

It's Cassia time again

Cassia fistula.  Kalakshetra colony.

That same tree, flowering faithfully again!

I enjoyed its showers of gold last year

Hopefully, next summer the one I've planted in our building puts out flowers too.  Greedy me!

Bangalore diaries - Kaikondrahalli lake visits

I visited 2023 November, so it has been close to a year . 26th October 2024 8-10am To my delight, I discovered a skywalk across the Sarjapur...