It was still dark and there was a man with a big stick waiting under the gate.
"Are you Sakeer?" I asked.
"No." Said the shadowy figure as he stepped into the light. "I am Rajesh."
We shook hands and he looked me up and down, tsking disapprovingly at my jungle-treking attire: shorts, shirt, hoodie and trainers.
"Wear trousers." He said and tapped my leg with his stick, a little hard, i thought. "Put these on."
He handed me two stockings made of thick, brown linen. I noticed that he was wearing a pair over the top of his trousers, having tied them up just under his knee.
"Okay, sure. What are they?" I asked
"Leech-socks." He said, matter-of-factly, in a tone that suggested I should have known the answer. I headed back to my room and changed almost everything i was wearing. I pictured myself upto my chest in a murky river, holding my bag above my head, cursing myself for wearing my most expensive pair of jeans and bringing my mobile phone, while muddy slithering creatures wrapped round my ankles and untied the laces to my favorite Hush Puppies.
I ditched a load of stuff from my bag too, restricting myself to a bottle of water, my glasses, wallet and camera, carefully placing the last two objects at the top of the bag which i assumed would get wet last. I returned to Rajesh, who was now inspecting the blunt end of his stick under a streetlight. He looked me up and down and nodded. I was basically wearing the leech-socks over a pair of my pyjama bottoms, dirty socks, pants, a t-shirt and my hoodie.
We were off. I'd have to stick pretty close. Apparently round here, the jungle is massive!
I followed him through a network of dark, musty, urine-smelling alleyways until we came to an opening in the forest. He turned and raised his finger at me.
"Shhh... Park ranger hut. Quiet."
Great! I thought. Another illegal trek. My second time trespassing in two days. No wonder this tour was so much cheaper!
We entered the forest and stealthily made our way through the trees to a rough path. It was raining slightly and was already very hot, with humidity levels rising steadily the further in we went. I followed him silently as invisible damp things that hung from trees brushed against my head and face. It was pitch black under the canopy of leaves and i could just about make out the white stripes on Rajesh's shirt floating a few metres infront of me.
Occasionally something would squawk or whoop somewhere above us and he would stop and point with his stick at some mass of branches.
"Hornbill. Very big." or "Black monkey. Awake now."
We carried on, he doing everything you would want from a jungle guide; tapping with his stick to draw my attention to branches to that i might walk into or bushes that might catch my clothing. He pointed at holes and said things like "Snake home," and "Bear, dig," and gestured at patches of flattened grass and said "Buffalo sleep. 2 days," generally keeping me informed of everything that we were squelching past.
As we walked, he would swing his stick like a cartwheel at his side, forcing me to follow him at a disance of a few metres if i was avoid being hit. I thought about this for a bit. He was obviously keeping a gap between us so that if he stumbled or slipped, or were even attacked by a wild animal, I would either have that extra second or so to make my escape, or I'd be far back enough to get a better view, therefore ensuring that i'd have a much grittier anecdote to tell when i got home. I noticed his shirt was striped white, orange and brown and wandered whether he was using himseslf as a tiger lure to draw attention away from me. He told me that there hadn't been a tiger sighting here in 6 months, but perhaps baiting them out of the jungle with sexually alluring stripey tops was a good way of making these illegal treks more exciting and therefore proitable.
Dawn was softly breaking above the canopy and I was beginning to warm to Rajesh, so as he walked and i followed, i struck up a quiet conversation.
"It's beautiful round here. Are you from Kumily?"
"Yes. I born here."
"How marvellous. Are you married?"
It might sound like an odd or unwise question, considering we were both wearing stockings and i was following him into the undergrowth, but since i've been here, i've been subjected almost exclusively to these four questions by every local i have so far met:
1) What is your name?
2) Where are you from?
3) What is your job?
4) Are you married?
I figured that by now I had established the answer to the first 3.
"Yes. I married. My wife from Allepey."
Well there was a coincidence.
"Oh, Allepey? I hear it's lovely. I'm going there this afternoon."
He slowed a fraction.
"No bus today. Strike."
Something overhead whooped loudly.
Not you too, Raj... Is there anyone in this town that isn't trying to con me into staying an extra night in this town against my will?
I stopped and pretended to tie up my laces. He continued on, unaware. Suddenly, in the cold dawn light filtering through the leaves, the swinging of his stick took on a more sinister edge and I remembered him inspecting it outside the hostel before sizing me up.
Suddenly it hit me. (not the stick)
This is much bigger than the Rainbow Cottage, and this isn't just about me paying over the odds to go on a longer tour and stay the extra night. He's leading me into the jungle where he's going to bludgeon me to death and nick my stuff or sacrifice me to the monkey-gods, or something!
I considered for a second taking out my wallet and dropping a credit card on the ground so that somebody might find it and raise the alarm. After all, nobody knew i was here. I only had two cards though, and i'm sure he planned to walk me much further into the jungle. There'd be a better opportunity later on. There was also a chance of course, that when he attacked me, i'd overcome him and escape. In that situation, it would most inconvenient to have no access to my bank funds, especially if i had a stick-wielding tribe of monkey-worshiping maniacs after me.
I looked around and got up calmly.
Well. If you've gotta go, you may as well go out fighting... with a man dressed as a tiger in a dark, wet forest in the Indian jungle.
We continued up an incline and it got hotter and hotter and wetter and wetter. We were walking into the cloudcover and every breath became an effort. I could feel my heart pounding. The ground was very slippery and occasionally i would lose my footing and have to grab a branch or a patch of long grass to stop myself from falling. My hands were covered in tiny cuts and there were leaeches all over my legs. Rajesh seemed unconcerned. He didn't care that i seemed to be struggling behind him. However, whereas most people might be on the verge of passing out at this stage, not being used to this climate or doing this level of strenuous activity in such hot, muggy conditions, I was fine. I'd done bikram yoga. Twice!
I continued to play the part (quite effectively, i might add) of the exhausted, unfit westerner all the way to the top of the hill, where he lit a bidi and i made a big display of gasping for breath, clutching my chest and guzzling from my waterbottle feverishly.
Let him think you're weak. I thought
"Can we wait for a bit? I'm knackered."
He rolled his eyes and turned to survey the cloud-laden forest from which we'd emerged. I chuckled to myself and continued to pretend i was exhausted for at least another 5 minutes.
For the next hour or so, we followed a series of tracks along the top of the hill. More than once i felt that i was being watched, but when i looked round, all i saw was mist and trees. Although we were still up in the cloud, having broken the treeline the visibility was much better, and occasionally we would see a buffalo grazing in the mist before it would spot us and flee. There was a lot of elephant dung scattered around and Rajesh would stop every once in a while to talk about the plants we were passing and their medicinal qualities.
"This leaf good for snakebite," and "This tree like eucalyptus, but is not eucalyptus."
I got the impression he was continuing the facade and pretending everything was normal in order to lull me into a false sense of security
Sure, this was just your average, everyday, illegal jungle-trek.
I played along and pretended to relax but was careful to never take my eye off his stick.
We re-entered the trees after descending the other side of the hill and followed a path that Rajesh had told me was made by elephants. The sound of whooping in the trees got louder and the undergrowth got denser.
Suddenly the heavy thud of a footfall and the crack of a branch behind me alerted me to danger and I swung round...
To Be Continued In...
The Jungle Trek - Part 2
1 comment:
You bugger...
Post a Comment